Page 21 of Blazing Hot Nights
“Well, you’re a cowboy, so that doesn’t surprise me.”
“What does me being a cowboy have to do with it?”
“It’s the boy part,” I answered smartly. “Boys don’t hide in haylofts and cry.”
He lifted one brow. I hated that it made him even sexier than he usually was. The way his eye widened to a round ball of delicious chocolatey goodness dragged me in and held me there. “They don’t? What do they do then?”
“Stomp around, yell at everyone, kick things, cuss. The list goes on.”
“That’s not untrue, but sometimes even cowboys cry in the barn in the dark.” The shrug of his shoulder told me he had cried in the barn on more than one occasion. That was my fault too.
I finally managed to drag my gaze away from his before I could be convinced to believe his lies. “My point is, I’m safe. You can go home.”
“I’m not so sure. I’m a little afraid of how you’re going to get down that ladder.”
I sat straight up, ready to read him the riot act, and he held up his hand to stop me.
“I know you do it all the time. I know you’ve been coming up here since you were knee-high to a grasshopper, but angel, have you done it with your arm as unpredictable as it is right now?”
I groaned and flopped back on the pillow. “It completely ticks me off when you’re right.”
He laughed and shook his head, his hair falling over one eye. I pointed at it as he pushed it back out of the way.
“It looks like you need a haircut.”
“Or a hat,” he agreed.
He reached out and rested his hand on the elbow of my bad arm. It was nothing but bone, but he rubbed it lovingly regardless. The way he touched my arm should bother me. It should rile me up more than a boot on a rattlesnake, but it never did. I’d struggled with letting other people touch it since the accident happened when I was twelve. Back then, it was smaller than the other one, but I still had some use of my hand. The incident five years ago paralyzed it permanently. Slowly, over the years, it became twisted and ugly, just like I deserved.
“Please don’t touch my arm,” I said through gritted teeth. “I would pull it away, but you know I can’t.”
His hand paused, and he lifted that brow again. “Why can’t I touch it? Am I hurting you?”
I used my right hand to pull it away and tuck it into my own space again, so he rested his giant paw on my hip instead. He started rubbing that, which was far worse, in my opinion. I regretted taking my arm away as his warm hand sent shivers through me.
I also regretted that I liked the way his touch made me feel. When he touched me, I felt safe and cared about for a short moment in time. I liked the way tendrils of fire trailed down my leg as he rubbed my thigh, but I was smart enough to know that if I wasn’t careful, I was going to get burned. The worst part was, I couldn’t even stop his hand. If I rolled to my back, he’d just start rubbing my belly, and that would be far more dangerous than my hip.
“What do you want, Blaze?” I finally asked.
“I want to know why you think you have to suffer. I want to know what I’m supposed to be mad at you about.”
“I’m not talking about this.” I shook my head once and pursed my lips, refusing to open them again.
“I think talking about this is long overdue, Heaven. Like about five years overdue.”
I sat up, and his hand finally fell away from my hip. I was grateful, but a part of me was also sad. Life here was hard, and sometimes a warm, caring touch of a friend was what I needed. I wasn’t under the illusion that he was a friend, though. He might act like one, but he would turn on me as fast as one of his beasts turned on Callie.
I motioned at his face. “I know that somewhere deep inside, you blame—”
Blaze’s lips came down on mine in a hard kiss that cut off my words and stole my breath. His warm lips turned gentle the moment they landed on mine, and he teased me with a kiss, much like the one we shared four years ago. Only this time, if it was possible, there was even more heat behind it. My lips sang with the pure pleasure of having his lips back on mine for a fleeting moment in time.
His hand slid up to cup my cheek, his fingers toying with the hair at my temple. He tipped his head, and when his tongue stroked my lips, I was naïve enough to open them and let it in. He moaned, his tongue stroking mine in a feeling of velvet on velvet. It was everything I remembered it to be and more. It was sex all night long. It was lay me down in the hay and forget about the world below. It was unbridled heat, passion, and lust. This cowboy’s kiss was fire, and I was burning in heaven. I pushed back with my tongue, exploring his mouth the way he explored mine until we broke apart, panting and wide-eyed.
Blaze’s hand went to his hair, and he stared at me slack-jawed. “Good God almighty, Heaven,” he whispered, his chest still heaving.
My head nodded, but no words came out. I wanted to say something witty or snarky, but my brain was still on fire from the kiss, the emotions rocketing through me. Emotions I was going to have to put a lid on if I wanted to continue to live next door to Blaze and be able to function. I wanted this brazen cowboy, but I would never have him. That, in my opinion, was my punishment for the past. Blaze deserved to be happy, but because of me, he would never be again. Not with Callie and certainly not with me.
“I’m so relieved,” he said, bringing his knees to his chest and laying his chin on them. “I thought I was the only one feeling this way.”
