Mocha Latte (Silk Stocking Inn #3) by Tess Oliver, Anna Hart

few country western stores once I got back home.
    With the thought of back home , my gait slowed and my shoulders slumped. Back home would mean away from Silk Stocking Inn, and most importantly, it would mean away from Jackson.
    “What have I done?” I asked myself aloud. It seemed I’d tried to patch my former heartbreak with another layer of heartbreak. I stopped and stared at the barn. The entire scene in front of me already seemed so familiar that it felt as if I’d been at the inn for months.
    Jackson walked out of the barn with a wheelbarrow. He was wearing his black hat, a white t-shirt and jeans. He was familiar too. As if I’d known him for months.
    I drew in a deep breath and willed my feet forward. There was no sense in stopping the weekend short just because I was afraid of getting hurt. That horse and buggy had already left the gate. I was well past the point of getting hurt. I’d just have to deal with it when the time came.
    Jackson swung the barrow around and spotted me coming along the path. His smile could light an entire television set. Feeling revived just by seeing him, I picked up my pace and headed toward him.
    He pushed his hat back as I stepped right next to him and hopped up on my toes to kiss him.
    “Well, that sure makes barn chores a lot sweeter.” He pushed the wheelbarrow, and I walked alongside him.
    “I’m here to lend a helping hand . . . with the hay.” I smiled flirtatiously his direction. “Or whatever else you might need.”
    “Is that right? Since I’m already finished feeding, I guess I’ll have to come up with whatever else .” He parked the wheelbarrow outside the barn and stripped off his gloves, an innocent enough action that caused my already tender pussy to clench. Jackson had awakened feelings and desires in me that I’d apparently buried during my long relationship with Nate. Now that they’d resurfaced, I had no intention of tamping them down again.
    Music was coming from a radio in the barn. I followed him into the tack room.
    “Counting Crows playing Four White Stallions. I love this song.” I walked over to the radio on the shelf and turned it up. I swung around and discovered Jackson had been watching me. “It’s just the right blend of rock and country, don’t you think?”
    He nodded. “Just the right damn blend, Becca.” He reached out his hand. I took it. He pulled me close and placed his other arm around my back. “Who needs to waste a night in a crowded bar when we’ve got each other and a perfectly good dance floor.” He tapped the cement floor with his boot. “And the Counting Crows singing country rock tunes.”
    The great music, the lighting in the breezeway and the warm scent of hay and animals created an incredibly romantic ambience for a girl who was quickly discovering that she’d left a piece of her heart back in the country on her grandpa’s ranch.
    Jackson swung me around. My head felt dizzy with it all. I lolled my head back. He spun me around again and then pulled me tightly against him. I rested my face on his shoulder, trying to remember if I’d ever felt so secure and safe with Nate as I did with Jackson.
    “Thank you, Jackson.” I said it so quietly, I was sure he hadn’t heard.
    “For what, Becca?”
    “For this. For being you. For helping me find my heart again.”
    He responded by closing his arms around me tighter. We danced until the song ran out.

Chapter 19
    Daylight was shifting to evening outside the barn.
    Jackson finished our impromptu dance session with a kiss. “I was thinkin’ maybe we should just stay in tonight. It’s your last night, and I don’t really want to share you with anyone else.”
    His mention of it being my last night made my heart sink in my chest. What would happen once I left the inn? We’d never discussed anything more than the weekend. In fact, he’d made it quite clear that I was his ‘for the weekend’. I’d given him just that--all of me, without hesitation. But I’d