Page 5 of Brothers Best Friend Cowboy

“No.” She sighs. “I just got to school. I can’t handle a baby right now.” Her tears get louder. “Plus, I want something real, you know? A real relationship. How am I going to get that if I’m pregnant?”

“What do you mean? Loads of guys date single moms. It’s a thing some guys are into.”

She glances toward me. “Even so, please don’t tell anyone. Besides, I don’t even know if it’s true. Maybe I’m sick from all the juice I’ve been swapping for wine. Just in case… ya know?”

I nod, letting a heavy breath out with it. “You’re going to be okay. Life has a way of working itself out.”

She nods and wipes her tears, then stands from the bed, stretching out in the little bikini. She’s so beautiful that she could have any man she wants, pregnant or not. “You’re right! I’m not thinking straight. I need to go make an impression and put this to the side until I know for sure.” She leans in and kisses my cheek. “Thank you! I don’t have many people to talk to.”

I give her my best comforting smile and follow her down the stairs to the sound of a bottle shattering.

Dodge curses and I rush into the kitchen to see what’s happened.

“Sorry.” He grins. “I started drinking, and now it’s on the floor. Nothing to see here.”

I bend down and help him pick up the shards, despite the fact that he’s begging me to get up off the floor.

Emery rushes in shortly after, pausing when he sees me on my knees.

Shit.This isn’t the angle I was hoping to present. Down here, I look all folded and weird. Then again, I have the perfect angle of him. I gaze up in his direction, letting my sick mind wander to the thought of what his cock would be like pressed between my lips.

When my clit throbs, I know it’s time to look away.

I glance toward Ash, who’s standing in the breezeway with the sun on her golden skin. I look like a fool. I should go change. Refocusing on the shards, I gather what I can before Emery bends down next to me. “You shouldn’t be down here. You could get cut.” His voice is low and graveled, dark and deep. He’s wearing black board shorts and his shirt is nowhere to be seen. Apparently, he’s big into chest tattoos as well.

“Seriously, Maggie, get up. I’ll get the broom.” He grips my arm and helps me from the ground, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.

God, what is he thinking?

He’s probably thinking about how to tell me I look like a mess in this bathing suit.

I wrap my cover tighter around me and he looks away before scratching his beard.

“What, ugh, what do you say we go down to the…” He clears his throat. God, the man can’t even speak. I’m so hideous. “We can hit the river and get back to this party.”

I look up at him and nod. I expect Ash to follow behind, but she stays back with Dodge.

Truthfully, I should’ve brought the wet suit. I don’t think the mountains are ever warm enough for a bathing suit this small, and today is no exception.

“You have goosebumps,” Emery says, running his big hand over my forearm.

I close my eyes for a fraction of a second and soak in his touch. “Yeah. I’m freezing. I guess I thought I was going to Tahiti. Not ten miles north. I wore a jacket yesterday to work, for God’s sake.”

He laughs. “Do you want my flannel?”

My nose scrunches. “Kinda.”

He grabs it off the boulder by the stream and hands it toward me. For a second, my insecurities sneak back in. Maybe he’s trying to make sure he can’t see my skin. I repulse him. He can’t wait to get the disgusting eyesore that is me out of his vision.

His eyes have gone blank. His stare like a robot not yet programmed. I’ve broken him.

“You okay?”

He startles alive and nods. “Yeah… yeah. That bathing suit is small. You have a lot of skin.Good skin.Your skin looks good.Youlook good, not just your skin. You’re in a small bathing suit, and you look good.” He looks away and clears his throat as I tuck into the flannel shirt.

I can’t help but smile.Did he really say that? Does he think I look good?I genuinely believe he thinks I look good. I contemplate not covering up and getting more naked, but his compliments don’t make it any less cold and the smell of his flannel is an unexpected bonus of wearing it that I wasn’t expecting.

“Sorry,” he finally says, his gaze on mine. “That was inappropriate. But really… you don’t have any clothes on.”

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