Page 26 of Her Grumpy Cowboy
Because it’s true.I’m his.But he’s mine too.
We breathe together.He doesn’t crush me; he cages me with his arms like he knows what it is to miss the feeling of being held by someone that keeps you safe, gives you peace.
When he can move, he kisses my forehead, my nose, my mouth, and pulls out with a carefulness that makes my eyes sting.He tucks me under the covers and disappears for a moment before returning with a warm cloth.I shiver as he cleans between my legs, biting my lip as he drags the cloth against my sensitized clit.He touches me so tenderly, like aftercare is part of the ritual and not an afterthought.Then, gets me a glass of water and checks the bandage on my ankle because he is who he is: gruff exterior but soft for me.
“Okay?”he asks, climbing back in and hauling me half on top of him.His palm spreads across my lower back, thumb stroking absent circles.
I nod, a little sob caught behind my teeth.“Okay is so small.I feel… rewired.”
“Good,” he says, satisfied.“That was the plan.”
I nuzzle into his throat.“You have a plan?”
His grin is slow and devastating.“Yeah.Next time I’m going to put you in my lap and make you say please so many times you forget any other word.”
A laugh catches in my chest and comes out as something that might be a sob if I weren’t so bliss-drunk.
He goes quiet then, the good kind.I feel it, the peace in him I helped make.
Outside, the storm rattles the windows.Inside, the heat purrs.He kisses me again—lazy now, smiling into it when I tug him closer.
“You make me brave,” I whisper when he pulls back.
He taps my bottom lip with his thumb, eyes hot and tender.“You make me soft.But don’t tell anybody.”
“My lips are sealed,” I promise, and then open them for him anyway.
Chapter8
Grady
Morning comes in slowly, as if it knows better than to disturb a man who found peace in an angel’s arms.
MyAngel is asleep on my chest, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other spread possessively over my ribs.
Last night was…
Hell, I don’t even have a word for it.Transcendent?Mind-blowing?
Spiritual?
Yeah.Let’s go with that.
Her hair is tangled from my hands, and her leg is thrown over mine like she owns me.And she does.She fucking does.She made a mess of my self-control, my soul, and now she’s snoring like a drunken cherub who has no idea she upended my entire life plan with one smile and a killer wreath.
I brush a strand of hair out of her face and just stare.
When she finally stirs, it’s with a soft little sound that goes right through me.Brown eyes blink open, heavy-lidded and warm.She takes one look at my face, and I watch it happen—recollection sliding into satisfaction, that shy-proud glow that lights her from the inside.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi, Shortcake.”My thumb strokes the curve of her shoulder.“How are you feeling?”
She stretches and blushes.“Good sore.”
I grin, because yeah—same.
Angel hides her face against my chest like she’s embarrassed, but the smile curving her lips gives her away.
