A Passionate Proposal. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ inhaled and exhaled. She could do this, but it would have been easier if Cort had widened around the middle and thinned on the top like most of their classmates.

      It would be easier if she didn’t still feel the imprint of his hand on her butt.

      At that moment Cort yawned and stumbled again. The man must be exhausted. Honestly, some people had no sense of when to quit partying and go home to bed.

      Tsking, Tracy marched across the floor and tapped her friend’s shoulder. After a sly look, Libby surprisingly relinquished her prize without argument.

      This time Tracy ignored her embarrassment and looked at Cort—really looked at him—noting the purple smudges beneath his brown eyes and the tired slump of his wide shoulders. She fought the urge to smooth his dark hair and pull his tired head to her shoulder. Her heart quickened just thinking about such a bold move, but of course she’d never do such a thing—especially with so many people watching.

      “You’re dead on your feet. Why are you here when you should be in bed?” She hoped he didn’t notice the catch in her voice when his fingers curled around hers or the fact that she had never learned to dance worth beans.

      Cort’s brows rose, and a teasing sparkle lit his eyes. His amazingly sensual mouth curved in a smile. “Is that an invitation?”

      Her cheeks flamed and her stomach dropped to her shoes. She glanced over her shoulders to make sure no one had overheard. “It most certainly is not. With the way you’re stumbling around, you’re an accident waiting to happen.”

      “And I thought you liked my style.” He tried and failed to smother another yawn as he two-stepped her around the floor.

      She didn’t take it personally—even though one of her dates in college had informed her that she could bore a man to death. “Your style is absent tonight…along with your coordination. Would you like for me to drive you home?”

      “I can make it under my own steam.”

      He looked as if he’d doze off standing up if he stopped moving. “Twenty miles down a straight, dark stretch of road? I’m afraid you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”

      “Are you trying to mother me, Trace?” A gentle smile touched his lips.

      She winced. According to her siblings, she mothered everyone. “No. Yes. Probably.”

      “Thanks. I’ll accept your offer.” He yawned again. “Guess I’m not much of a party animal tonight, but I sure am glad I came. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss seeing you.”

      Warmth swept through her, but she stopped it. Cort was just being polite. He’d always been polite. Too polite. Back in high school she’d wished just once he would grab her and kiss her senseless. She’d have willingly done whatever he wanted in the back of his pickup, but he’d saved that treat for the more popular girls. That was then, and now she had better sense. Thanks to her youngest sister, she’d learned exactly what folks around here called gals who did such a thing.

      “My car is the dark-blue sedan parked near the flagpole. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”

      His brows dipped. “We can’t leave together?”

      “People will talk.”

      “If you don’t want to be seen leaving with me, then I’ll get myself home.”

      God save her from the male ego. Oh, bother. “Let me tell Libby where I’m going and why.”

      Five minutes later Cort crammed his long-legged frame into the passenger seat beside her. The car seemed darker, smaller and more intimate than when she’d parked it two hours ago. Lord, the man smelled good—like one of those expensive samples that came in her magazines. She tried not to be obvious when she drew in another whiff and then exhaled shakily.

      “In a few minutes you’ll be home and tucked in.”

      He slanted a sexy, sleepy look in her direction, and she nearly backed into the flagpole. Her mouth dried and her heart hammered. She double-checked to make sure her fingers hadn’t turned into thumbs on the steering wheel, because it certainly felt that way.

      A mile down the road the tightness in her throat subsided enough for her to ask, “Are you and your brothers keeping late hours catching up?”

      Silence. Tracy glanced at Cort as she drove beneath the area light at the Farm and Ranch Store. He’d fallen asleep. The straight road and the full moon gave her the opportunity to look her fill. Once she’d dreamed of marrying this guy and living happily ever after. But, of course, that was before she’d discovered his plan to go to college halfway across the country. Just as well, popular jocks like Cort never dated geeks like her except out of pity.

      Minutes later she parked in front of the Lander home. Moonlight slanted through the windshield, and a cool breeze swept fresh air through the open car windows. Being with Cort brought back bittersweet memories, which she’d deliberately suppressed in the past few years. She didn’t like remembering where she’d come from. Instead, she focused on where she was going.

      Their community didn’t have a train track, but it did have a landfill, and the Sullivan house was on the wrong side of it. Folks had pitied them, donated clothes and old toys to them, but she’d never noticed Cort looking down his nose at her. He never seemed to see the shabby house and furnishings, and he never complained about her siblings storming through the kitchen for snacks during their study sessions. If anything, he seemed to like coming to her house for tutoring. As long as the cookie jar was full, Cort had been a willing visitor.

      Much as she would like to sit here and reminisce, she had to get back to the gym before folks—namely Libby—started talking. Curving her fingers over the thick muscles of his shoulder, she shook him awake. “Cort, you’re home.”

      His eyelids slowly lifted and he smiled sleepily. “Thanks, Trace. You’re a pal.”

      “So I’ve been told. Good night, Cort. I’ll see you around.”

      He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers before she realized his intentions. Her heart pounded, and she had to fight the urge to twine her arms around his neck. She’d come a long way in the past decade, but men like Cort never settled for less than the best. He sat back and she licked her lips. His taste lingered.

      “Count on it.” He winked and sauntered away.

      Two

      Cort eased into the house as quietly as possible, pausing to listen for Josh’s wail. Silence, blessed, rare silence greeted him.

      He leaned against the door and wiped a hand over his mouth. He’d kissed Tracy—twice—and wanted to again. Was he nuts?

      Stepping into the den, he flipped the light on—oh, hell—and flipped it back off when Leanna squealed, “Eeek!”

      His brother was bare-assed and busy with his sister-in-law.

      “Sorry.” Embarrassed, he backed out of the room and hustled to the kitchen. A few minutes later his brother followed him in. Cort said, “I’m sorry, man.”

      Patrick fixed himself a glass of water. “She’ll get over it…eventually. You’re home СКАЧАТЬ