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Disclaimer: I do not own any one from CSI; NY …
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(Lindsay POV)
How did this happen?
I was going to be married.
To some one who doesn't cheat, someone who isn't the bad boy type, the perfect man, some may say.
That's what James was – is
But as much as I want and try to love him, I can't.
He doesn't make a shiver go up my spine when he says my name, huskily in my ear. He doesn't make me that angry. He doesn't have that animalistic way to him that drives me crazy.
The sex may be good but he would never ever dream of doing it on a pool table of all places. He doesn't bet against me and lose painful over and over again.
He doesn't call me Montana, or annoy me as much as you.
In fact he is everything a woman can ask for. Nice, sweet, charming, hansom.
In fact he is everything your not cowboy.
Yet here I am, standing at your door on my wedding day, in my wedding dress, because I simply can't live with out you.
The roughness of you gentle touch. The way you and only you can get me so angry I don't know weather to kill you or kiss you. Then the way you say you only do it because I look cute angry, or how we can have whole conversations with out saying a word.
I want the bad boy, who calls me Montana and fly's all the way across the country to hold my hand when I needed you the most.
I need to fell alive again. I need to feel home. I can only do that in your arms. Them strong arms that hold me tight when I need them the most or just to carry me across a roof top.
I need my rough, tough New York cowboy, not the modest, sensible lawyer.
I need my cowboy, Messer.
Im standing at your door in my white wedding dress tears in my eyes because I don't know if you will let me in.