Page 67 of Between a Rock and a Hard Cowboy

“But seriously, help yourself. Open anything you want.”

“Mm.” Her non-answer didn’t give him much to go on. Then she spun back to face him. “Let’s go to bed.”

There were way too many things to be unpacked in that deceivingly simple four-word sentence. Starting with the wordlet’s,as in them together? And since it was barely seven-thirty, she couldn’t be tired so she had to mean go to bed to have sex. Right?

He wasn’t sure of anything but he knew one thing, the correct response to her statement was, “Okay.”

He’d let her lead. He’d follow. If she went into his room, they’d be golden. He’d know exactly what she wanted.

If she went into her own room, that would be a little more tricky. What would he do then? Hang around in the hallway waiting for an invitation? Walk in and wait for her to yell at him or not?

Women were hard. And this woman was particularly difficult. Like she had to be in the top one percent of confusing females in the world.

“Wait.” She held up one finger. “Answer me this. Yes or no. If your father called that vote on Emmett today, which way would you vote?”

Where had this come from? He didn’t know but he was sure of his answer. “No.”

“No doubts?”

“Fuck no.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Come on.”

He scurried to make sure the screen across the fireplace was secure, flipped the deadbolt on the front door and turned off most of the lights downstairs, all as fast as he could. He wasn’t about to make this woman wait.

When he turned back to face the staircase, the glow of the Christmas lights that they’d wound throughout the greens on the banister lit her features as she ascended. She glanced back to see if he was coming, and the light danced in her eyes.

That was when he knew for certain—he was falling for this woman.

This cranky, contrary, stubborn, possibly criminal woman was the only one he wanted in his home, in his bed, in his life.

And she’d better want him back.

Following her up, he supposed he’d find out one way or another soon enough.

ChapterThirty-Five

“Your room or mine?” She stood at the top of the staircase and watched the mix of emotions cross his face. Surprise quickly followed by eagerness. She imagined it was a lot like he would have looked twenty or so years ago when waking up as a little boy, remembering it was Christmas morning and running for the presents under the tree.

After a beat he said, “My bed’s bigger.”

“Your bed it is.” She nodded and led the way into his room. And he let her lead. She liked that about him. Against all odds, she liked him. Period.

She wasn’t going to tell him that, but since they were about to get naked, he’d probably make the assumption.

Men were good at assuming things—whether their assumptions were true or not. Wilder men in particular. But Linc wasn’t as bad as his cocky, opinionated, overly domineering older brothers in that department. Maybe it came from his being so damn young—a fact she was staunchly blocking from her mind as she reached for the button on her jeans to get undressed.

But the process was interrupted when Linc closed in on her, hauling her against him while taking her mouth.

With his hands on her hips, he’d pulled their bodies so tightly against each other, she abandoned trying to unzip her fly. It was kind of nice to just enjoy the feel of his bulging back muscles under her hands through the cotton of his shirt anyway.

He broke the kiss and moved to her ear, causing a tremor to pass through her at the warmth of his breath against her sensitive skin. He ran his open mouth down her throat and her body twisted in response. Tightening. Craving. Needing to be filled.

Damn. He’d learned her special spots already.

Maybe he wasn’t the less dominant younger brother after all. And she kind of liked it for a change but not for always. Not that she thought she and Linc hadalwaysin their future.

This was a passing fancy. An adrenaline-fueled attraction that had infected her because of the whole Emmett thing.

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