Free In Love With A Cowboy (BWWM Romance) by Tasha Jones, BWWM Crew Page A

nothing like the man I’d seen a moment ago. A small seed of fear throbbed inside me. If he was anything like Dean…
     
    “If you don’t want me I’m not going to force you,” he said and his voice was calm. I’d expected him to scream and shout.
     
    “It’s not about not wanting you, Tanner. You’re the best thing that’s happened in my life since Keisha. But I don’t know how to do this.”
     
    “Together?” he suggested and his voice was warm. The fight left me for a moment, and I entertained the idea of us being together, a happy family. And what? Dean would come over for Sunday roast? He would sit in the café that he owned, watching his ex-lover with his brother? And what was Tanner going to do, move back to the middle of nowhere that he wanted to escape from in the first place?
     
    “I don’t think so, Tanner,” I said and my voice sounded distant. Not like my own. Tanner looked at me like he couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth. And then he shut down. He closed to me, and I couldn’t reach him anymore. He nodded silently, not making eye-contact.
     
    “Thank you for dinner,” he said and walked to the front door.
     
    “Tanner,” I said, not sure why I called him back. But he ignored me, his broad back stiff, and the door slammed shut behind him. I stood in the passage, the air sucked out of me, and I felt tiny hairline cracks run across my body. I’d steeled myself before I’d told him no. I’d been strong before.
     
    But it turned out that I couldn’t do it, not with him. Not this time. I was falling apart. I could feel myself crumble. I walked to the cabinet in the dining room and found a bottle of wine that had dust on the label. I pulled out the cork and walked to the kitchen with it.
     
    Before I’d gotten to the kitchen to find a glass I already chugged some down, so I sat down at the kitchen table with the bottle alone, and opened myself up to the escape alcohol held for me.
     

Chapter 8 - Tanner
    I stood outside her house, clenching and unclenching my fists. I was furious. I tried to calm down, but I felt like hitting something, and breaking it. I wanted to take my rage out on something before I exploded. My skin felt hot and I started walking away from the house, unable to stand still.
     
    I’d known that telling her wouldn’t go down well. What did I expect? I should have told her from the start. Would it have made that much of a difference? Yeah, it would have. She wouldn’t have slept with me.
     
    And to be honest, I was glad that she had. Maybe it was selfish, but that was one of the best nights I’d ever had, and if I had the chance to do it all over again, I would have done exactly the same thing.
     
    Except now I didn’t have her. She’d kicked me out like a dog. And I hadn’t exactly lied to her. I just hadn’t told her the truth.
     
    What did Dean have that I didn’t? How had he managed to hold on to a woman like her for two years when she’d kicked me out of her house in less than a few weeks? She’d called me back when I’d left. I could still hear her voice, lilting slightly at the end with a Texan accent, so soft and gentle like a caress. And I’d ignored her, because I was angry. I had been embarrassed and angry and ashamed and irritated all at the same time. I should have told her, yes. I knew I was wrong. But what about what it felt like around her? Surely she felt the same? Did she really think it was better just to push me away?
     
    Apparently she did think that. I stopped and looked over my shoulder at her house, smaller now in the distance. Keisha’s window had a very soft glow in it from her nightlight. All the other lights were off except the one in the kitchen. That was where Jada was now. I could walk in there and tell her how I felt. That I wanted her in my life. That I liked… loved her. Was it possible this quick?
     
    I knew I’d known Nicole for months and what I felt for her, even when we were doing it, was