Page 50 of Take Me Away, Cowboy

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Getting Better

Paige wobbled abit on her feet, but she walked almost half a mile a day, doctor’s orders. She was mildly resentful that she still had to check in with the physicians at the hospital. Being a patient was harder than she thought it would be after so much time spent on the other side.

As she rounded the corner of the south field on her parents’ farm, she caught sight of Owen working in the adjacent patch of land between his corn fields and the wilder wheat plots. Yes, she may have walked this way because he’d be there, but she didn’t see the harm in just looking.

They’d kissed a few times since the dinner at her house, he’d taken her to Jules and Verne’s to play cards and eat, but she could tell he was keeping his distance, giving her time to heal. She respected him for it on the one hand.

But on the hand that had run down his taut, smooth skin and muscles other men had to begrudge him for, she wanted him to be less respectful. Much less respectful.

Her body was a live wire when he was around. The hairs on her arms stood on end, her limbs got all fidgety. Worse yet, the secret part of her that ached for him wanted him again in the way she’d had him on the mountain, twice.

That part of her was on house arrest for a couple more weeks, but she couldn’t shut it down, silence it. How was Owen so strong? He hadn’t so much as copped a feel since before the accident, no matter how much she’d thrown herself into his kisses. Only part of her was broken for Christ’s sake, and the part that wasn’t wanted him something fierce.

She waved when she caught his eye and the smile on his face rang alarm bells all over her body. Surely that wasn’t the smile of just a friend? He jogged over, his shirt littered with dirt, grass, and weeds. Though he dripped with sweat, his tight T-shirt wet and clinging to him like she wanted to be, the scent wafting off him was an aromatic and erotic mix of floral and earthy.

She breathed him in deep.

“Looking good,” he told her, and the lingering heat from the day sprung to her cheeks.

Definitely not the greeting of a friend. She tucked an errant hair behind her ear, in the moment hating her decision to grow her hair out.

“I mean, you’re out and about, huh? The healing looks like it’s coming along.”

OK, that had to be more friendly than romantic. Dammit, why couldn’t she get a clear read on him?

He hopped his fence, making the leap look easy as he landed soft on the ground not inches from her face. He kissed her cheek, but then added a soft peck on her lips. Ambiguous again.

She bit her bottom lip, then blurted out, “Do you like me?”

Oof. Could she sound any more like a needy tenth grader with a crush? Jeez.

Owen looked stunned, but his smile remained.

“Very much. Why do you ask?”

Paige wondered how much to say, but ultimately decided that the only way to it was through it, or so her dad used to say. She might as well lay it all out there.

“Well, for starters you tell me I look good. But only from a ‘you’re not a gimp anymore’ perspective. Then, you kiss me. Kinda. Then there’s the fact that we’ve been out to eat like four times since my parents’ house and you’ve barely kissed me good night in those three weeks. But you keep asking me out. If you want out of this, whateverthisis…” she started, her pulse racing.

But she was cut off when Owen’s lips found hers and enveloped her in an all-consuming kiss. His tongue explored her lips, lightly brushing them before going deeper, drawing her tongue out, teasing it with the tip of his. His hands fisted in her hair and his length pressed hard against her belly.

It made her wet; God, why didn’t she have the all clear from her doctor already?

She lost herself in the sweetness of his tongue—part coffee and part justhim—wanting this moment to last.

Owen pulled away, leaving Paige breathless and foggy.

“Does that tell you how I feel about you?”

Paige could only nod.

“Good.” Owen smiled and took her hands in his. “Because I’m crazy about you, Paige. I’m just trying to give you time to heal, and if we have too many of those kisses too soon, I won’t be able to do my job as your boyfriend if I hurt you because I can’t stop touching you. When you’re ready, though…” He drew her close to him.

She took all of him in—the bulge that pressed against her, the scent that snuck up on her again, rendering her useless when it came to pushing back against him.

Not that she wanted to. But still, he’d said something that rendered the rest moot.

---