And Then You Dance (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 2) by Heather A Buchman Read Free Book Online Page A

key for him to use until Billy had time to get one made for him.
    “You can stay up at the house tonight if you want to. There’s a guest room on the main floor, to the left of the kitchen. That’ll be yours, and you can stay there as much or as little as you want to.”
    “Can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Sookie said, and then told him how grateful he was to get out of the bunkhouse. “Whatever you need help with, I’m happy to do it.”
    As long as Sookie stayed away from Renie, he didn’t care what the man did. There was a bigger bedroom downstairs, but it was next to the one she stayed in. Billy didn’t want him down there.
    ***
    Billy would be there in about an hour and a half if he left when she thought he did. She looked around her one bedroom apartment, trying to decide if she should try to tidy up, or text him and suggest they meet somewhere.
    It would be better to meet somewhere. She wasn’t ready to have Billy here, in her space.
    Meet me at the hideout, she texted.
    No, he answered.
    You aren’t supposed to be texting and driving.
    Not.
    How was that even possible?
    For a smart girl, you don’t know much about technology, do ya?
    Meet me at the hideout, she texted again.
    No, he answered. Again.
    Shit. She really didn’t want him here.
     
    An hour later she heard a knock at the door. How had he gotten here so fast?
    “Hi,” Renie answered. Damn, he looked good. He hadn’t shaved all day, so the dark stubble was even longer. She wanted to reach out and run her hand over it. He wore his dark blue, plaid True Grit shirt. His Cinch jeans were just the right amount of tight.
    “You gonna invite me in to do that or are you gonna feast me with your eyes out here in the hallway?”
    She smiled, stepped back, and waved him in.
     
    Her place was small, but it looked like her. The dining room table was stacked high with books and papers, but the kitchen was spotless. The living room, which the dining room infringed on, looked less lived in.
    He longed to go and explore the rest of it, see her bedroom. He would’ve done whatever he wanted to a couple days ago, but now things were different between them.
    He looked at her. She studied him, a little smirk on her face, as if she dared him to do it.
    “Ah hell,” he said and stalked down the hall, opening the first door he came to. Bathroom. He closed the door. There was one other door; it had to be her bedroom. It was, and it wasn’t at all what he expected.
    It was the only room that looked as though she decorated it in a purposeful way. The rest of her apartment looked like a typical twenty-something’s place, a mishmash of randomly- gathered furniture. This was a different story. It looked as though it belonged in Greece. Everything in the room was white, except the bright turquoise and red pillows scattered here and there. The mattress sat on a white platform with a molded headboard that looked as though it was made of clay or stone. On the ledge it formed naturally, was a single vase with three fresh roses, and one picture frame. He walked over and picked up a photo of her and Pooh; she had to have been about eleven or twelve. The man standing next to them, holding the horse’s reins, was none other than yours truly.
    Renie stood in the doorway, watching him. He set the photo back down and looked around.
    “Where do you keep your clothes?”
    “In the closet.”
    Still with the smirk, he wanted to wipe it off her face, but the way he wanted to do it…it might be too soon for him to think about that.
    He walked back to her. She didn’t move, so he got as close to her as he could, without touching her. He stood in front of her and looked, up and down, the way she had done to him when he got there.
    She had on jeans, the same 501s she always wore, and a pink, striped, button-down shirt, with enough buttons undone that from where he stood, he could see the lace on her white bra, and the swell of her breasts. One hand was on her hip; the