Love in the Dust: A Cowboy's Second Chance with a City Girl

What are we doing?

The next few days came in a similar manner. I would arrive at school, trying to focus on my work and not him, but he was constantly in the back of my mind like a pestering fly. Every time I passed by his door and I caught a peek at him in the hallway, it was like a unavoidable strike to me.

I noticed the small ways he tried to retain distance between us by keeping exchanges brief, dodging eye contact in meetings, and leaving the staff room whenever I entered.

There were moments when the pressure would bubble up to the surface. Like sometimes I would catch him looking at me from across the hall, his eyes staying just a second too long before he turned away. Or when our hands would lightly brush when we passed each other in the hallway such a simple act was electrifying.

It was absolutely draining, this consistent push and pull we doing. I could tell that he was struggling too. The lines on his face seemed slightly deeper and his shoulders seemed more tense. He had bags under his eyes. He was usually so confident, so in control, but now there was a tightness in his expression.

By Friday, the suspense had surpassed the breaking point. I had spent the entire day in a state of agitation from the awareness of him being just a few feet away. When the final bell rang echoing in the room, I let out a sigh of relief i didn't know i had been holding as i looked forward of escaping the school and getting some distance from him.

I was packing up my things when I heard a knock on the door. The sound echoed making my heart skip a beat, and I looked up to see him standing there, his face completely unreadable. He stepped inside my room without waiting for any invitation and he closes the door behind him.

"Margaret, we need to talk," he said in a low and serious voice.

I swallowed my spit as I feel a knot form in my stomach. "Okay."

He walked over to the window and he looked out at the almost empty parking lot for a moment before turning back to me. "I can't keep doing this." he says roughly.

"Doing what?" I asked softly. I think i already knew what he wanted and I think i wanted it too.

"This whatever it is between us. It's affecting everything. My work, my sleep, I can't stop thinking about you, and it's driving me crazy."

I stood completely frozen in place as my heart thumped erratically in my chest."I know," I whispered quietly. "I feel it too."

He took a step closer to me his eyes on mine. "I'm trying to be professional. Just like you said and to do the right thing like you wanted, but any time I see you.I just want to"

He trailed off his jaw clenching as if the words were too difficult to say or to admit.

"What do you suggest we do?" I ask, even I hear my voice coming out shaky. "We can't just ignore this."

"No, we can't," he agreed with me his voice sounding even rougher now. "But I don't know how to deal with this. I've just never felt this way before. Not about a colleague. Not about anyone."

He took another step to me he was so close that I could feel the heat coming from his body. His eyes blackened, and I could see the struggle in them, the battle between what he wanted and what he knew was right.

"Margaret, "his voice drops to a low rumble. "I can't keep pretending this isn't happening. Not anymore."

My breath stilled. I knew I should step back and put some distance between us. I couldn't move feeling glued to my spot, every thing pulling me to him. All I could think about was how close he was and how easily he could close the gap between us.

His eyes locked onto mine. He seemed to read my reluctance, and his own will hardened. He took a purposeful step forward, erasing the final bit of space between us. His hand came up, and before I could react, his fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back.

I felt a kick of emotion that I'd been desperately trying to keep hidden. His eyes reflected my struggle.

"Margaret," he growled, his voice rough and authoritative. "If I kiss you now, I'm not going to be able to stop. And I don't want to."

His words were a statement, not a question. He was offering me one last chance to back out, but I couldn't. I found myself leaning into him.

"Then don't stop," I breathed out, my voice fluttering slightly.

That was all the permission he needed. In an instant, his lips were on mine, the kiss fierce and commanding. Pushing me lightly against the wall his hand softening the impact. It was as if he was claiming me and he wasn't going to let go. His hands gripped my hair, pulling me closer, and I clung to him my fingers gripping the front of his shirt.

The kiss deepened, becoming more pressing, more frantic. It was an unfiltered exchange of all the emotions we'd been trying to subdue. At that moment, nothing else made a difference there were no rules, no consequences, just a fierce relationship between us.

Even as I submitted to the kiss, an annoying voice in the back of my mind cautioned me about the danger of what we were doing.

Finally, he pulled back breaking the kiss, both of us breathing slightly labored, he presses his forehead on mine
His eyes were dark, filled with a mix of obvious desire and possessiveness.

"Margaret," he growled softly his voice rough with emotion. "What are we doing?"

I struggled to find my voice, "I don't know. But I don't want to stop."

He pulled back slightly his hands still holding my face with a firm hold. "This isn't going to be easy. I'm not going to pretend it will be."

"I know," I said. "But I think it's too late to turn back now."

"Then we're in this together. No turning back. I'll make sure of it." he replied confidently and decided.

His words were a promise to me a statement that whatever happened next we'd face it as together.