Page 25 of At the Rancher's Pleasure

Sarabeth leaned her butt against the back of the couch and looked pensive. He waited while she gathered her thoughts. “I’ve never done this bed-buddy thing before, but I’m sure it doesn’t involve us practically living together two days after our first meeting. We’ve been spending so much time together that I, well...missed you this weekend.”

She sounded desolate, like she was trying to tell him she’d run over his dog or written off his truck. He tried not to let her see his amusement. “I missed you too. Is that such a bad thing?”

Sarabeth threw up her hands, obviously agitated. “As FWBs—”

“Aswhat?” Then the acronym clicked and he nodded. “Sorry, got it, carry on.”

“We shouldn’t be missing each other, it shouldn’t be this intense. We’re supposed to play it cool, have fun and do our own thing...apart. I’m sure we’re doing it all wrong!”

Brett rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to hide his smile. “Says who?”

Sarabeth stared at her feet. “Cosmopolitan. Jaynie, who had a couple of these types of relationships before she met Laura. And Google.”

He couldn’t contain his amusement anymore and grinned. “You’re consulting the internet about our love life?”

Sarabeth blushed. “I was doing research. And everything I read says that we are doing this wrong...”

“Bullshit,” Brett said, stepping up to her and placing his hands on her slim upper arms. “There is no one right way when it comes to people and attraction, sweetheart, and I refuse to live my life in accordance to a few stupid rules someone posted online.”

He brushed a kiss across her mouth and felt her shudder. “Does that feel good?”

“You know it does,” Sarabeth whispered.

Brett placed his hand on her breast and felt her nipple pucker. He knew the answer to the question he was about to pose but needed to hear her breathy voice again. “And this? Do you like me touching you here?”

“I like you touching me everywhere.”

So honest, so straightforward. He loved it. “And I know how much you love my fingers, and my tongue, between your legs. So, let’s agree that, as long as it feels good, let’s do it.”

“But what if—?”

She broke off her sentence but Brett knew what she was about to ask. What if they started to feel more, what if this thing between them started to deepen? He shook his head. “We won’t let this go deeper, Sarabeth, we can’t afford to let that happen. Because it would ruin what we have, and what we have, right now, is damn awesome. We’re friends who enjoy each other, in and out of bed. Let’s not ruin that by embarking on a rules-based relationship.”

He felt her sigh, physically saw the tension drain from her body. Then his lover, fierce and fantastic, lifted her head and pushed back her shoulders, lifting her chin and fine jaw. “I won’t fall in love with you, Brett. And I know you won’t fall in love with me.”

He pushed a strand of hair off her forehead, a little disconcerted by her determination. “Why are you so convinced of that?”

“Because, as much fun as we have together, in and out of bed, I don’t need you to save me. I’m emotionally independent and I don’t need rescuing. And if I did, I would do it myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Brett huffed, exasperated that she’d pointed out what he considered to be his weakest fault.

“And you need to be needed,” Sarabeth added.

He used to need to be needed. But not anymore. He was done with that...

She dealt in honesty but could she take it when it was directed at her? It was time to find out. “And, because you were put down and told you would never be anything but beautiful, and because you were once stripped of power, you need to feel, or be, in control. You think that if you need someone, it’s a sign of weakness.”

Sarabeth winced before releasing a shaky laugh. “God, if we did end up in a relationship, it would be ludicrously dysfunctional.”

Brett winced. “So, let’s not do that then?”

“Deal.” She nodded and managed a smile. “I’m glad we’re both on the same page, Brett. Another question...”

He held his breath, hoping it would be a lot simpler than the ones that had come before. Like most men, he preferred to avoid these conversational, paintball bullets.

“Why aren’t we naked yet?” Sarabeth asked, her hands sneaking under his flannel shirt and her fingers dipping beneath the band of his jeans.

That was a damn good question. So, instead of answering, Brett got to work.

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