Lonesome Cowboy (Honky Tonk Hearts) by Stacy Dawn

her cheek and caused the breath in her lungs to hitch. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What do you have to be sorry for? I’m the one who caused all of this—if I had just waited, kept the faith, believed in us more…Even if I hadn’t come here and left well enough alone…”
    “Then we wouldn’t have known the truth, and I wouldn’t have ever gotten another chance to do this.”
    His hand wove beneath the hair at her nape, pulling her forward until his lips sealed his words.
    It was as if the earth dropped from beneath her feet, the memory of his lips so pure, so vivid, so all consuming, time was suspended, as if she’d been in a drought and he was the water of life. Two years closed together, and she almost cried out for the need she had suppressed for so long.
    The warm lips, slow and sweet at first, became strong and demanding, as if he too needed her to survive. The realization was empowering, and she clasped his shirtfront, unwilling to let even a breath of air come between them.

Chapter Eleven
    Dark blue eyes held Amy’s gaze, their expression mirroring her own turbulent emotions as their air-starved lungs pulled in short breaths. She slowly lowered from her toes, thankful the strong arms were around her, because if Marshall let go right now, her weak knees would surely give out.
    A kiss from him was something she never expected to experience again, ever. Talk about your world turning inside out and backward in the blink of an eye.
    Trembling fingers came up to brush her cheek and she leaned into the warmth. A heavy breath fanned her face as his forehead pressed against hers and his eyes closed.
    She wished he’d say something, anything. This afternoon’s confessions turned out to be so much more than either of them had expected. How did they move on from them… could they move on from them?
    “I don’t know…” he finally began, breaking off on another heavy sigh. “I don’t know what to do about—”
    “Helloooo? Marshall? Where are you?”
    A cool spot opened on her forehead as he raised his to the feminine voice coming from the kitchen. Marshall stepped away from her and ran his hand over his jaw like he used to do when he was thinking too hard—something she’d found endearing then, but currently wobbled her fragile optimism.
    Amy’s attention was pulled to the creaking of the screen door. She couldn’t help the widening of her eyes at the bleached blonde in a tailored pencil skirt and six-inch heels stepping through the doorway.
    “There you are. I saw your truck and…” The overly familiar tone gave way to a raise of one slim brow when her gaze circled to Amy.
    And that’s when it hit her, hard, yet another fist to her chin today. Had she really thought Marshall would’ve just sat around pining for her all these years? How naive can you get, Amy? Of course he would be in a relationship. He was a great catch; she of all people knew that firsthand.
    But then, why did he kiss…
    Marshall cleared his throat and waved a hand between them. “Amy, this is Lee-Anne. She’s the real estate agent I mentioned.” He turned his attention to the other woman. “Amy’s interested in checking the place out.”
    The wary expression instantly transformed to business, ready and inviting. “Great.” She clicked over and extended her hand. “Since I’m here, why don’t I take you through the place. It has a lot of great features.”
    She shook the cool, perfectly manicured hand, all the while thinking that now would be the perfect time for Charlotte to wake so she’d have an excuse to leave. But her daughter slept on like an angel, a small smile on her cupid-bow lips.
    Amy stepped to the stroller and maneuvered it out of the corner anyway. “That’s okay. I’ve seen all I need to.” More than I needed to . “Thank you, though. But I should get going.”
    With all the airing of their past, she thought they’d connected again. She fought the urge to raise a hand to her lips.