Page 44 of Perfect Cowboy

My head is not right around her, and while I learned to separate sex and emotion by necessity, having my first love all over me again is not making the task easy.

I keep reminding myself that I don’t know her anymore. Maybe I never did because the girl I loved never would have just up and left without so much as a goodbye.

But fuck, it would feel way too good to get lost for a while.

I stand abruptly and she steps back, startled. My dick is so hard that it’s pressing painfully against my zipper, and I want to reach down and squeeze it so bad.

Just for a second.

Just to get a bit of relief.

Fuck.

“I need to go check the fire,” I say.

Chapter 12

Ashley

Gavinisdoingeverythinghe can to avoid me, which isn’t easy in a space this small.

After tending to a fire that didn’t need his attention, he bundled back up and went outside to clear some of the snow away.

The snowfall has stopped – for now – but there is an insane amount on the ground. He brought a snow blower because he’s prepared for everything while I have no idea what I’m doing. He’s outside clearing the driveway and making paths to the road and woodshed.

It’s all work that needs to be done – and I wouldn’t have been able to do it – but his timing could be a lot better.

I know he wants me – sexually, at least – but also understand his hesitation given our history. But our shared past was years ago, and we’re grown now.

What’s the harm in having a little fun?

If I’ve thought about it, there’s no way that he hasn’t.

Since it’s getting late and there’s nothing to do – I don’t imagine turning on a movie would be essential when you’re on generator power – I debate just going to bed.

Except I don’t know where I’m sleeping.

Gavin is doing hard, physical work and he’s already sore. His gigantic frame wouldn’t even be able to stretch out on the loveseat.

It’s only right that I give him the bed.

With nothing else to do, I head to the kitchen and turn the kettle on. If ever there was a perfect night to have hot chocolate – spiked, of course – it’s tonight.

Gavin opens the front door just as I’m pouring a generous helping of Peppermint Schnapps into a mug.

“Want one?” I ask.

“Do you have any rum or just that candy-tasting shit?” he asks, with a wry grin.

“Just the candy-tasting shit.”

“Well, beggars can’t be choosers, so sure, why not.”

He strips out of his winter gear and as much as I try not to look, I can’t help it. I’m hoping that he’ll decide to go shirtless again, but he doesn’t.

What a damn shame.

I pass him a mug, purposely grazing my fingertips against his. He looks up and the heat in his eyes is unmistakable.

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