Page 51 of Seaside Cowboy's Second Chance

“Thank you.” She sent him a grateful glance and nearly stepped in for a hug. But like he’d done minutes ago, she stopped herself. She lifted her face and let the ocean breeze caress her skin since she couldn’t let his fingers do the same.

He’d always seemed to know how to help her. Well, when she’d let him. No, she’d never been a helpless kitten. Neither had she been displaced from reality like her mother had seemed to be. But unfurling the sails and sailing off on the tumultuous seas of life had been much easier when Skylar had known he’d always be her safe haven to come to in the storm.

“I need to go through the things in the attic,” she surprised herself by saying. “Grandma hasn’t been there in ages, and she asked me to. I should do some things for her while I’m here.”

He winced at her wordswhile I’m here, and she chastised herself. No need to remind him. She’d be leaving soon enough. Her heart shifted painfully. No need to remind herself, either.

Okay, she wouldn’t just be looking through boxes for her grandmother. She had a selfish reason. As well as a reason she hadn’t made it to the attic yet.

“I can help you move boxes and such.” Understanding shadowed his eyes. “And I’ll remove cobwebs from the way and make sure no spiders linger nearby.”

She should thank him and tell him she’d do it herself. She could lift boxes and carry herself and had done both plenty of times. But, well, the spiders... Her lips curved up a little. “You’re my hero.”

His neck pinked. “Oh please. I’m no hero.”

“You are to me. Always will be,” she whispered.

He already stood tall, but her words made him stand even taller.

She’d accepted his help not only because of the spiders or because she hoped she could find some things in the attic by some miracle. But also because she’d always enjoyed being around him. When she’d been a traumatized, confused, abandoned child, he’d coaxed her out of the hole she’d curled up in, and she’d leaned into him like a fragile flower to sunshine. Because he’d been that sunshine to her for so long.

And fine, she needed his calm presence in the storm her life had become again with Grandma’s fiancé’s disappearance. But there was so much more to it, and it was dangerous for her heart to analyze it.

“Thank you.” The corners of his lips lifted slightly, curving his trimmed beard around them. Even his half smile did strange things to her heart, and her gaze lingered on his lips longer than it should have. Knowing how they tasted didn’t help.

Oh how she craved his touch or his kiss—fine, both!—that could raise her on such a high wave of sweet abandon. She had a great imagination, but she didn’t need it here.

His breathing seemed to go shallow, too. Close, so close, yet so far away. That moat she’d built still yawned between them, but she’d jump into the alligator-infested waters to reach him. Not a rational thought there, was it? She tore her gaze away and stepped inside the house before she could do something reckless and kiss him.

Inside, the lavender scent still hung in the air from the cleaning solution she’d scrubbed the tile floors with this morning. She’d done lots of laundry for Grandma, too, though the faint scent of clean sheets might be her imagination.

But no clean scent greeted her when she climbed the narrow wooden staircase, following Dallas instead of leading the way because, again, spiders. “Be careful, in case one of the wooden planks has broken.” Maybe that was another reason he’d volunteered to go first. She watched where she stepped.

“You, too. So far so good.” He made it to the attic, carrying paper towels and a cleaning spray, and waved away the cobweb. “Only one cobweb and no spiders in the vicinity. And no other, um, guests.” He put the cleaning supplies on one of the boxes and pulled her up.

“Thanks.” The brief contact sent a wave of awareness through her. They were alone here, and the feeling was sharp and delicious like spicy food and even more dangerous.

No.

Off-limits.

The narrow attic seemed much smaller than when she’d been a child. It smelled musty, and specks of dust danced in beams of sunlight. Boxes seemed to multiply since she’d last been here. Most of them she didn’t remember, but she did remember a heavy antique trunk.

Heat crouched in the rafters, pouncing as they ascended. Dust tickled her nose, and she sneezed several times.

“Bless you. And bless you again.” He smiled. “Would you like me to bring you a dust mask?”

“I should be okay.” She sneezed a few more times, sending more specks dancing. Hopefully, it also sent any lingering spiders running. “At this point, you can just say bless you a thousand times.”

“Bless you a thousand times.”

“Thanks.” She approached boxes covered by a thick layer of dust. “What do I expect to find here?” She shivered. Did she even want to know?

She wiped down the first box with paper towels, then opened it. Books. She separated the ones she’d read while growing up to donate to the library and wrote down the titles of her grandmother’s books.

“I hope it’s something good. I know your father threw away your mother’s dresses, but maybe you’ll find one he didn’t notice.”

“No.” Skylar blanched as the image of a red raincoat open to reveal a matching red dress emblazoned her mind. She straightened fast, her insides shaking.

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