Page 34 of Claimed By the Cowboys
Piper
Ablissful Sunday morning where I could sleep in had been promised to me before I went to bed late Saturday night.
Clayton had announced that the guys had promised to give Evelyn a ride into town to go to church. They’d also promised to spend some “daddies and me” time with Maisie at the park.
All of this conspired to give me a few extra hours of my Sunday morning where I was beholden to no one but myself until I had to get an early supper started.
I had resolved to stay in bed as late as possible, at least until ten.
Of course, the one morning I’d scheduled a lazy morning in bed, I found myself wide awake at a quarter to nine, the others only having recently left the ranch.
Groggily, I dragged myself into the kitchen, too lazy to throw on a fresh set of clothes while alone in the house, leaving me in boyshorts underwear and a lace-trim camisole.
I gave a big stretch and an even bigger yawn as I slowed to a stop in front of the kitchen island in a daze.
The warm, inviting smell of coffee filled my nose.
Mm, coffee. I could really go for a cup.
Still in a daze, I felt disappointed that I would have to make my own. Until I stood at the end of the counter, blinking dumbly at the tall coffee pot that was already mid-brew.
But if I hadn’t made the coffee, who had?
“I like yourjammies,” a voice called from behind me, followed by an appreciative wolf whistle.
I whipped around to see Dakota grinning.
In a completely misguided attempt to cover myself, I snatched the dish towel hanging from the bar across the front of the oven, as though the tiny chicken print towel would meaningfully conceal my near nakedness.
“I didn’t think anyone else was supposed to be home,” I blurted, my heart suddenly in my throat.
“Zeke and Clay took Maisie downtown for the morning.” Dakota swept his eyes up and down over me and my dish towel. “Just you, me, and Montana until they get back.”
“What!?” I squeaked, noticing Dakota’s eyes flit over my shoulder to the small breakfast table.
Sure enough, when I turned to look over my shoulder, Montana gawked at me over his newspaper.
Since I hadn’t been facinghimwith a tea towel, I was giving dear Monty a nearly unobstructed view of my butt in my cheeky boyshorts underwear.
“Every once in a while, Kota and I agree on something.” Montana gave me an approving nod. “Nice pajamas.”
And just like that, my bitch switch flipped.
“Well, at least one of us has to look good around here if Zeke’s out.” I sniffed, giving up on the dish towel, tossing it back over the counter to leave my skimpy pajamas on full display.
“Are you saying that Monty and I aren’t up to snuff?” Dakota scoffed, beginning to cross the kitchen floor to where I stood between him and his twin.
I took in the sight of Dakota and Montana, both still in plaid flannel pants and white cotton T-shirts. While it would take a lot of work to make either of them look anything less than downrightgorgeous, the standard dude PJs weren’t doing them any favors, either.
In my best impression of nonchalance, I gave them a nonplussed lift of my shoulders before letting them sag.
“I mean—you’re the one who said it, not me.” I shook my head, ready to walk off, close myself into my room, and quite possibly die of embarrassment.
“Well, is this an improvement?” Dakota stripped out of his T-shirt lightning quick, revealing well-defined abs and pectoral muscles covered in a fine layer of golden brown chest hair, the muscle cuts at his hips disappearing as they dipped beneath the waistline of his blue plaid pajama pants.
Montana clicked his tongue in admonishment behind me as Dakota flaunted his ruggedly ripped physique.
“Yes, I would say that ditching that pesky shirt was a massive improvement.” I nodded, eyes running up and down his body greedily.
