Page 8 of Stranded with a Very-Kissable Cowboy

He rubs his hand along the scruff of his chin, and the tone of his voice drops. “Uh, my wife died three years ago.”

I gasp, and before I can say something, he says, “Ethan hasn’t talked in three years. I’ve taken him to therapy. He was in a special kindergarten class. I’ve done everything I know to do, everything the doctors and therapists have told me to do, and in one night with you, he talks. Please… I know you don’t know me, and you—”

“I’ll do it. I’ll stay.”

He smiles, and my heart does a flip in my chest. “I’ll pay you.”

I laugh. “I won’t take it.”

“But…”

I hold my hand up to stop him. “I can work from anywhere.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I can’t just ask you to hang out with my kids for nothing.”

I shrug because it’s really not a big deal. At least to me it’s not. “What? They’re good kids. I had a great time with them.”

He laughs, and when he sees I’m serious, he stops smiling. “You’re for real? I have to—”

I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “I think you’re forgetting that you saved me off the side of the road today.”

He smiles and leans against the post at the bottom of the stairs. “Right, how could I forget that? I was an ass about it too.”

I’m not going to argue with him. “Right. You were a little bit of an ass. What’s up with that?”

He blows out a breath. “Defense mechanism.”

I point at myself. “Defense mechanism? What? Were you scared of me?”

He grits his teeth. “Not scared.”

When he doesn’t continue, I tilt my head to the side, trying to understand. “Then what?”

“You’re beautiful.”

My mouth drops, and I shake my head.

He takes a step back. “Don’t even act like you don’t know it, Gianna. I’m already fighting off my foreman because he wants to meet you. You’re beautiful.” He turns away from me. “Okay, so let me grab your bag out of the truck and I’ll get you situated.”

I don’t bother telling him I can get my own bag. I just nod and then stand where I’m at while he goes out to retrieve it.He thinks I’m beautiful.I don’t have time to dwell on it because he walks back in with my bag and walks past me down the hall. “Follow me.”

I walk behind him and try to ignore the way he looks in his Wranglers. I’ve never had any kind of interest in cowboys or even cowboy romances, but I could totally see myself looking for some tonight. I mean, geez, there’s something about his tight ass and his grumpy, can do anything demeanor. I jerk my eyes up when he walks into a room and then turns around to face me. “This is the spare bedroom.” He points toward a door. “The bathroom is through there, and if you need anything, just let me know.”

I nod, staying where I’m at because if I go farther into the room, I’ll be pressing my body against his to get by him. “Okay, so uh, what time do the boys get up?”

“Around six.”

My mouth drops. “In the morning?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. I get up around four, so I’ll be up with them. You’re not on any kind of timeframe or anything. You’re doing me a favor with this—”

“Stop,” I tell him. “Quit saying that. I’m happy to do it.”

He sets my suitcase on the bed, and it’s awkward between us as he slides past, making sure not to touch me, and then stands by the open door. “Okay, well, let me know if you need anything. I’ll see you in the morning.”

CHAPTER 8

DALTON

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