Page 26 of His Cowboy Heart

Of course he did. Why shouldn’t he? I’d known when we’d been driving down the mountain that hospitals bothered him, but I hadn’t really gotten it. It wasn’t something I could relate to in any kind of way. I hadn’t been satisfied with what had been a huge offering he’d given me with those few words. No, I’d stomped all over that and taken my own insecurities out on him.

I’d been so desperate into provoking him to interact with me, I hadn’t remembered that he’d done just that. He’d admitted something life altering for him and I’d shit on that just so I could use the chip on my shoulder that I did, in fact, carry around with me on him.

I used my hand to urge Flynn to look at me. I could tell that he didn’t want to, but he did it anyway. I released his chin but kept my eyes on him as I eased each side of the shirt open just a little and then slipped my hands beneath the fabric. His skin felt cold, and his muscles were stretched tight over his ribs.

“Breathe,” I whispered as I pressed my forehead to Flynn’s. It seemed to take forever, but when he let out that first rush of air, his entire body seemed to sink in on itself as some of the tension eased. Several deep breaths later, he had his arms around me and his face pressed against my neck. I removed my hands from his shirt, skimming them only briefly over the long thick scar in the middle of his chest, and wrapped my arms around him. For each little tremor that hit his body, I hugged him a little harder. It wasn’t until Flynn felt more relaxed in my hold that I asked, “When?”

“Two years ago,” Flynn murmured. “The first one was about six months before that.”

The first one?

“Heart attacks?” I asked carefully “With ans?”

Flynn sighed before nodding. “First one was mild… a warning. I didn’t listen.”

“And the second?”

“The second didn’t really give me a say in the matter. Flatlined in the ambulance, got my chest cracked in the ER, got it stitched back up six hours after a touch-and-go surgery that should have killed me but didn’t. Flatlined three more times in two weeks, got dragged back to life each time by very determined surgeons and spent three months wondering how I was supposed to live with a ticking timebomb inside of me,” Flynn explained. He sounded tired. “Jules, if I could have come into that hospital with you?—”

I shook my head and then brushed a soft kiss over his lips. Tears stung the backs of my eyes as I thought back on all the terrible things I’d said to him. “Flynn,” I began hesitantly.

“Can we just sit here like this for a little while?” he interjected.

“Yeah,” I said shakily. It was all I could do to curtail the tears as I kissed him again.

I couldn’t say how long we sat there like that before Flynn said, “Jules” in such a quiet whisper that I almost didn’t hear him.

“Yeah?”

Flynn turned off the light and then maneuvered us so we were lying down on the bed. His front was to my back. He turned my head just enough to lay a searing kiss on me.

“I know you were hoping to end up in bed with a rich-as-fuck banker stud who will be honest about whose lips are wrapped around his dick and whose ass he’s got his cock balls-deep inside of.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said?—”

Flynn kissed me hard to shut me up. “I just wanted to tell you that you’ll have to settle for a rich-as-fuckex-banker stud who is not onlysinglebutvery gayand knowsexactlywhoselips he wants wrapped around his dick and whose ass he’s got his cock balls-deep inside of.”

Between the hot-as-hell kiss and the statement that I had to unpack several times before I even began to understand even a tiny bit of what Flynn was saying, the man kissed my nose and then pulled me back against his chest and promptly fell asleep.

ChapterNine

FLYNN

I couldn’t stop touchinghim.

Just like I couldn’t stop smiling whenever he murmured “Banana Jammies” and then let out a little rumble of laughter.

I’d started the process of waking Jules up nearly an hour earlier by skimming my fingers over his cheek and kissing the back of his neck. Instead of opening his eyes, he’d started to whisper my name over and over. Each sexy little whimper had made my already burgeoning erection feel like my dick was going to split in half from the pressure, but all thoughts of rousing Jules had stopped because he’d ended up rolling his body over and snuggling up against my chest. His lips were resting right next to the top of the scar that ran down the length of my chest.

From that point on, I’d toyed with his hair, memorizing the texture and smell, and I’d touched pretty much every part of his face. Many of the bruises he’d incurred during the assault in Eden were finally starting to fade.

Everything about Jules confused me.

In good ways and bad.

First off, I’d never met a man who exuded such tenderness like Jules did. He had an innate ability to empathize, yet he didn’t allow anyone to walk all over him. His soft lips offered up a sharp tongue-lashing as easily as they did a sensual murmur. He’d sparred verbally like he’d been doing it his whole life, yet he gave every part of himself when he kissed. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the only one he behaved that way with.

Deep down, I wanted the answer to that question to be a yes, but I would never dare ask it. Leaving Black Hills Ranch in a few months would be hard enough as it was. Hell, leaving the bed was hard enough.

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