That kiss went on forever.
And still, it was too short.
She ended it, finally, by dropping back down to her heels again. Dazed, reluctant to lose the hot spell of her kiss, he opened his eyes to find her staring up at him, her mouth as plump and red as the cherries she tasted like.
“Brenna...” he whispered like some kind of long-gone fool. At that moment, her name was the only word he knew.
She gave a low laugh and dipped to the floor, grabbing both their hats and passing him his. He slid it on his head as she held out her hand. “Come on, cowboy. Let’s go have ourselves some fun.”
* * *
How did she do it?
Travis had no idea.
But that night, Brenna was a natural, a reality TV show dream come true.
He took her to Giselle first. She shook Giselle’s hand, leaned in close and whispered something.
Giselle laughed out loud. In the weeks he’d been dealing with her, Travis had never seen Giselle laugh.
It went on like that all night. Brenna was sexy and funny and so good at pretending to be in love with him, he almost believed it himself. She rubbed up against him and pulled him down to whisper naughty things in his ear. And the way she smiled at him? You’d have thought he was the only guy in the place.
All the other guys wanted to dance with her, but Travis kept her close. After the way he’d lost her there at first, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight again tonight.
She was so relaxed and easy, mugging for the cameras, but not too much. Just enough to be charming and playful and fun. She was drinking Coca-Cola, hadn’t had a single beer. Still, he couldn’t help wondering if she’d knocked back a little liquid courage when he wasn’t looking.
Once he even whispered, “Are you drunk?”
She laughed that magical, joyful laugh of hers. And then she kissed him—a deep, wet, amazing kiss that made him acutely aware of exactly how long it had been since he’d had sex with a woman.
And the way she felt in his arms when they danced?
So good. Just right. He could almost start wishing the night would never end.
At a little past midnight, with the band on a break, Giselle signaled them over again. She had two of the cameramen with her that time.
Travis knew what the casting director was up to. They were getting interviewed, an on-the-fly interview to test them both, to see if they had chemistry up close and personal, and to find out if Brenna could really shine with the camera focused right on her.
Giselle asked, “Brenna, how long have you two been together?”
Travis wanted to grab her and whisper that no matter what, she was amazing. If they made it or not, he’d owe her forever for this fine night at the Ace.
But then Brenna laughed. And he knew that she had them. “How long have Travis and I been together? Not nearly long enough, if you ask me.” She grabbed his arm and snuggled up close. “I have loved Travis Dalton since I was six years old,” she said dreamily. “That was the day that my mom let me ride my new bike on the Cedar Street sidewalk while she was shopping at Crawford’s General Store. It was the day that Angus McCauley pushed me off my bike and then rode away on it. I called Angus some bad names, but he didn’t come back. So I sat down on the sidewalk and burst into tears...”
It seemed to Travis at that moment that the whole place had gone quiet. People pressed close, but only so they could hear better as Brenna told them how Travis had appeared out of nowhere that day.
“He came like a knight in shining armor—except, you know, in dusty boots, jeans and a snap-front shirt.” She looked up at him with a glowing smile.
He brushed her lips with his, the light kiss so easy and natural, exactly right. He looked at the nearest camera. “I hate to see a little girl cry.”
Brenna went on with her story. “He picked me up and asked me if I was hurt. I showed him the scrape on my elbow where I’d hit the sidewalk when Angus pushed me down. Travis looked at it, all serious and frowning. He said, ‘You are a very brave little girl. Stay right here. I’ll get your bike.’ And he did just that. Not five minutes later, he came back around the corner of Cedar and North Buckskin Road, walking my bike. I ran to meet him, and that was when I told him I loved him and would marry him someday.”
“What did he say to that?” Giselle asked downright breathlessly.
Brenna let out a put-upon sigh. “He acted like I hadn’t said it. He did that a lot for the next twenty years or so.”
“She was too young for me,” Travis insisted, as he’d done more than once during the twenty years in question.
Brenna made a face at him. “The second time I said I loved him, I was eight and he was sixteen. That time, as it so happened, he’d just saved me from drowning in Rust Creek. I said, ‘Oh, Travis. I love you and I can’t wait to marry you!’ He just wrapped me in a blanket and drove me home. And then, when I was ten...”
He knew what was coming and couldn’t hold back a groan.
She nudged him with her shoulder. “Aurelia won’t mind. Remember, she got married and moved to Sioux Falls?”
Giselle, looking more eager than Travis had ever seen her, prompted, “So tell us what happened.”
“I caught them kissing, Travis and Aurelia.”
“Oh, no!” Gerry, the production assistant who stood at Giselle’s elbow, gave Travis a dirty look.
“Oh, yes,” said Brenna. “And okay, I was only ten, but still it destroyed me. It was in the summer, out at the county rodeo. Aurelia and Travis were both eighteen. Aurelia was so annoying. She had breasts and everything. I took one look at the two of them squishing their mouths together and felt my poor heart break clean in two.”
“Heartbreak?” Travis teased her. “Come on, admit it, Brenna. You were mad, not heartbroken.”
She gave a sniff, her cute nose in the air. “That was not anger, that was pure heartbreak, just like I said. Heartbreak that caused me to pick up a rock and throw it at Aurelia. I hit her in the shoulder.”
Travis elaborated, “Aurelia let out a yelp you could hear all the way to Kalispell.” He scolded Brenna gently, “You hit her pretty hard.”
“Well, I was upset and it seemed to me at the time that she deserved it.”
He shook his head. “You always did have a good arm on you, even when you were ten.”
“I remember she called me an evil little brat. And I turned to you and said, ‘Travis Dalton, what is the matter with you? You’re supposed to be waiting for me.’ I reminded you that I was already ten and it wouldn’t be long now—or it wouldn’t have been.”
“Except that you were so mad—”
“Correction. Brokenhearted. I was so brokenhearted, I ended it between us.”
“Bren. Come on. You were ten. I was eighteen. There was nothing to end.”
She put her finger to his lips. “Shh. I’m tellin’ this story.” And then she spoke to the camera again. “I said that on second thought, I hated him and I wasn’t going to marry him, after all, no matter if he crawled on his knees to me through razor blades and broken glass.”
He leaned in and told the camera confidentially, “She was always a bloodthirsty little thing.”
“Maybe. Now and then.” Brenna let out a rueful sigh. “Especially when the guy I love goes and breaks my heart.” Slowly, she grinned. “But then,