Page 17 of Long Hard Ride
Chapter Seven
Ican’t stop thinkingabout the best fucking morning of my life. I’m a little sore, but, for whatever reason, getting my cherry popped wasn’t nearly as painful as people make it out to be.
It’s just after seven. Shane usually gets home around seven thirty, and I want everything to be perfect. It’s a small kitchen, but I’ve set the table with a pretty floral tablecloth. I even added a few votive candles and a set a jar of wildflowers right in the middle.
The hamburgers are almost done, and I made my mom’s famous potato salad. It’s ready in the fridge.
Singing along to Kenny Chesney blaring from my phone, I grab the two prettiest glasses I can find and place them on the table. Maybe we’ll have wine tonight. I hunt around the cabinets for something other than beer and hear the front door open.
My heart sings. My pulse jackhammers. The birds have flown the nest and they’re all clamoring around my insides, not knowing what to do next.How ’bout fuck?
“Hey,” Shane calls from the living room, and I rush out to join him. He plunks down on a chair and starts to pull off his dusty boots.
I lean down and give him a kiss on the cheek, wanting to jump on his lap, but he looks a little stressed. “Everything go okay today?”
Shane sends me a panty-dropping smile. “Yeah,” he says, tugging the second boot off. “Blade Parker helped me work a deal with a rancher he knows. It looks like I’m buying another fifty head of cattle.” He looks up and our eyes connect right as he breaks into a dashing smile. And it’s game over. “Come, here.” Shane rises, spreading his massive arms open wide. In a heartbeat, his big, callused cowboy hands are stroking my back in a tight, possessive hug.
I wrap my arms around his tight waist and bury my nose into his plaid shirt, smelling pine and Shane—and cows. “I need a quick shower,” he whispers, and then sniffs the air. “Are you cooking something?”
“Uh-huh.” I grin. “Just one of my many talents.”
“Don’t even get me started on yourtalentthis morning.” He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “Be right back, baby girl.”
I keep myself busy while Shane showers. The pipes are so old in this house I can hear the water running. He must look like fucking heaven with hot water running down over his rippling marble muscles. Just the thought of him in there with all that steam makes me wet. I keep my thighs clenched as I putter around the kitchen.
I can’t find any wine, so I fill the delicate glasses with beer. I have to admit the table looks pretty fancy.
Shane rejoins me in the kitchen, taking up all the space, smelling clean and fresh like a spicy pine-tree ocean.Myman.
He takes a seat, and I bring the potato salad and hamburgers to the table. All the fixings—buns, ketchup, mustard, lettuce, onions, and tomatoes—are already there.
Shane catches my eye. “You didn’t have to cook for me.” Something about the evenness of his tone puts me on edge.
“But I wanted to,” I say, gliding into the chair across from him.
“Thanks. I appreciate it. But I have concerns about this morning.” He doesn’t look up as he loads his burger with tomatoes.
I don’t want to hear his answer but ask anyway. “Concerns about me losing my virginity? Do you regret what we did?”
“Absolutely not.” He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I just don’t want to mislead you, Brooke.” He gestures to the table and points at the flowers. “Now you can tell everyone that you lost your virginity to your husband, just like you wanted.”
I scoop a spoonful of potatoes onto my plate. “But?”
“But I’m not sure playing house together is a good idea. Strike that—I’m positive it isn’t a good idea. There’s still a lot of time left on our deal, and fucking each other the whole time won’t lead to anything but disappointment.”
My heart sinks. Not this shit again. “How can you say that? How do you know if I’ll be disappointed?”
“Because I do. You’ll just have to trust that I know what’s best for you, and me, for that matter. I’ve got fifteen years on you. I know what I’m talking about.”
“You don’t know—”
“I was honest with you from the start. I’m not good with commitment, Brooke.” He gives me a heated stare, and damn, do his blue eyes get dark. “You don’t want me getting any closer to you than I already am, because I swear to God, I’m at my breaking point.”
“Good.” I snort, lifting my chin. “Then I’ll break you.” I pretend to ignore him, stabbing a slice of tomato with my fork.
“I can be a very possessive man. I’m not sure you’d like it. I’d never let you leave my sight, and you haven’t even lived.”
