Free His Firefly Cowgirl by Beth Williamson Page A

depression.
    He shook off the maudlin thoughts about his mother and grabbed a couple towels from her linen closet. After Sophie left, he was going swimming in the pond. Possibly for hours, until his body was too exhausted to do anything but sleep. He hoped he didn’t dream of her.
    When he went back outside, Sophie stood by the car, her back to him, arms crossed. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her to his bedroom. There he could take his time tasting, teasing and pleasuring her for the rest of the weekend.
    It was clear she didn’t want it or she would have said something. Instead she stood waiting for the keys, eager to put Tanger—and Dax—back in the past.
    “Here you go.” He handed her the keys then put his hands on his hips to avoid kissing her. Even if every fiber of his being told him to taste those lips one more time. “Gas tank is full. Myron will give you a call when your starter is replaced.”
    Dax had to step back, away from her and any thought of this relationship, whatever it was, from continuing.
    “Thanks.” She opened the car and put her things in the backseat. “I appreciate the loan.”
    He shrugged with no casualness whatsoever, completely faking it. “I should’ve thought of it last night.”
    But I was too distracted by the thought of you, the taste of you, the anticipation of having you .
    “Well, bye then.” She climbed into the car and started it, backing out with care. Sophie waved as she pulled away.
    He didn’t see tears in her eyes. It was just the sun reflecting on her glasses. It had to be. She wouldn’t cry over leaving, not when she wanted it.
    Dax watched the car until it disappeared over the rise by the gate. She was gone. Again. He blew out a breath and pressed a fist to his chest. It still hurt, goddamn it.
    He thought about changing into swim trunks but no one would be at the pond this time of day. With a heavy step he walked to the pond alone. It would have been better if she never had returned.
    Maybe then he wouldn’t have another broken heart.
     
    Sophie drove with the windows down, the wind whipping through her hair. It was so loud, it drowned out all other noise, but it couldn’t quiet the ache in her heart or the certainty she’d just made a very big mistake.
    She traveled to the edge of town to the four-way stop. As she braked, she reached up to find tears rolling down her face. Why should she cry when there was a very real man who’d been kissing her not six hours earlier? He was real. He was there.
    She loved him.
    Sophie swung the car around, heedless of the speed limit. There was no time for dilly-dallying. If she wanted him she had to claim him and that meant opening herself up to pain. Or potentially to joy.
    Either way, she couldn’t leave Tanger without telling him how she felt. He was probably at the pond swimming. She pulled the car back under the carport and left the keys on the seat. She ran as fast as the cheap flip-flops could carry her through the tall grass.
    The worn path was so familiar, so dear, she smiled at it. She’d definitely lost what was left of her sanity, but that was okay. Love was the very definition of insanity.
    As she rounded the bend and ducked into the woods, she noted how much the trees and bushes had grown. The lush, green woods that ringed the pond were an oasis in the sometimes dry heat of the summer.
    She breathed in deep of the rich Texas scents and her mouth curved into a smile. This was the right choice. For the first time in a long time, she made a choice that felt right.
    When she stepped onto the bank of the pond, she saw Dax on the rock formation above the water. He executed an impressive cannonball into the water.
    And he was stark naked.
    Her pulse thundered through her ears. The decision to return hadn’t involved him being nude when she spoke to him. She could hardly think with all that male lusciousness in front of her. He cut through the water back to the rocks to apparently jump into the water