Page 39 of Cowboy and the Convict

They’d been married. They had children. A life. A partnership. She couldn’t imagine how betrayed Devon felt by his wife’s admission.

“I know this is going to surprise you, but I don’t know what to say.”

Devon’s eyes lifted to her face again as a hint of a smile eased across his lips. “There’s that complete honesty I love.” He studied her for a few seconds. “I didn’t know how much I needed it until I met you.”

She stared back at him, at a loss in more ways than she could count. While she didn’t hold back, no one had ever been so open and honest with her. After a lifetime of chasing this kind of connection, finding it was overwhelming. So intense it was difficult to breathe.

“I didn’t know how much I needed a lot of things until I met you.” He lifted their joined hands, lacing her arm around his neck. “It was easy to ignore how lonely I was. How long it had been since I’d touched someone who wanted to touch me back.” Devon leaned close, the tip of his nose teasing hers. “And now I’m having a hell of a time being the friend I said I would be.”

As her fingers found their way into the hair at his nape, her body leaned into his all on its own. “How do you know I want to touch you back?”

“I mean,” his lips curved into a sexy smirk, “you don’t exactly keep your hands to yourself when we’re together.” His eyes dropped to where her other hand was gripping the front of his shirt, holding tight.

She started to let go, but he caught her before she could, the width of his palm wrapping around her fist. “Don’t do that. Don’t overthink it.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Just let it be what it wants to be.”

The thought made her gut clench in fear.

“That’s not something I do.”

She’d fought for every relationship she’d been in. Sure, she’d sent a few men packing over the years—like the one who brought her to Devon’s literal doorstep—but the men she’d genuinely liked and wanted to keep around were always the same ones who left her feeling insecure. Left her holding on so tight she didn’t notice she was gripping something she needed to let go of.

And it was easy to see herself doing that with Devon. Clinging to him at all costs.

Devon continued teasing his lips over hers. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” His breath was warm as it fanned over her face. “You’re the kind of woman who makes shit happen.” He nipped at her lower lip. “Another thing I love about you.”

Had anyone ever loved anything about her? Not her mother, that’s for sure. Not any of the men in her past. It led her to the conclusion there wasn’t much appealing about her. Not in the ways that mattered.

But hearing Devon liked—loved—the parts of her personality most people found abrasive, prodded at an ache she’d carried forever. Since that first moment her mother made it clear she wasn’t good enough the way she was.

“I…”

Was she ready to make a similar confession? To finally admit there were things she loved about him too? Like how hard he worked to be a good dad. The way he took care of the people around him. Even those damn lectures he gave were appealing now that she knew what they really were.

Devon shook his head. “You never have to feel like you need to give me something back, J. Never.” The warmth of his fingers brushed over her cheek. “I just thought you should know how I felt. Why I can’t stay away from you even though I said I would.” His lips left hers, tracing a path along the line of her jaw to pause just below her ear. “And why I’m going to do my damndest to convince you we should be more than friends.” His teeth raked across yet another spot on her body that was way more sensitive than she realized. “That we probably already are.”

“Are you saying that because we cuddled at the football game?” She sucked in a breath as the heat of his mouth worked down the column of her neck.

“No.”

Devon’s lips lifted, claiming hers in a kiss that stole all the breath from her body after setting every nerve ending on fire, leaving her aching and filled with an amount of need she’d never experienced.

It wasn’t just physical. Her desire for more of Devon wasn’t only confined to her body. It had settled into those two things she’d held so close for so long, guarding them at all costs.

“I’m saying that because I’m about to give you a reason to believe me.” His eyes held hers as his hand slid under the blanket, the warmth of his touch skimming over the skin of her belly. “And to test that legging theory of yours.”

16

Devon

HE WATCHED HER face for any sign of uncertainty. Any hint Janie wanted to hit the brakes on what was happening between them. And something was definitely happening between them. Not just in this moment, but in a much more general sense.

Like it or not—time for it or not—he could no longer deny she should be in his life and he should be in hers.

“What do you think, J? Can I touch you?” He harped on his daughters all the time about consent and its importance. The respect it showed. At the river, Janie had made the first move, but this time it was all him, and he wanted to be sure she was right there with him. It sure looked like she was, but looks could be deceiving.

Her eyes were wide on his, skin flushed, chest lifting in short, choppy breaths. “You want to do that? Here?” She glanced toward the house. “But the girls—”

“The girls are all wrapped up in their friends.” He stroked across the soft skin of her stomach, giving her plenty of time to tell him to go pound sand. “They decided it was too cold to come outside.”

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