Page 37 of Seaside Cowboy's Fairy Tale

She did feel a bit dizzy, and at least she could attribute her head spinning to recovering from the surgery instead of his effect on her. She stepped from the secure cocoon of expensive new-car smell and intoxicating cologne, into the reality of smoke from someone puffing away on a balcony and the odor of something rotting in the dumpster.

Yup, welcome home.

And not a great first impression of her dwelling for Tex. Sadly, it was about to get worse.

“Don’t worry about my car.” He leaned to her and swept her up in his arms.

Her eyes went huge as emotions flooded her. “What—how—why—whatare you doing?”

“Hmm, haven’t we been through this before?” He grinned as he carried her to the apartment.

That smile and those strong arms wreaked havoc on her. Her heart thudded against her ribs like a caged beast searching for escape. “You—I—you—I—” Rarely was she speechless. Finally, she found the right words. “I was shot in the arm, not the leg!”

“But didn’t you feel dizzy while you tried to walk in the hospital room?” He approached her door, a door covered in dirty streaks.

Why hadn’t she washed it? She cringed, but not too much because a pleasant wave spread through her at being so close to him. Okay, after over a decade of forced servitude in her youth, she didn’t like to clean much—or at all, frankly. But from now on, she was going to have the cleanest door in the apartment complex. Seriously.

“Please lock the car. I don’t live in the best of neighborhoods, and I sure hope you still have the car when you return to it.” Despite all her arguing, she let her head dip against the firm comfort of his chest. Hmm... too bad, he’d parked so close and the distance from the parking lot to her door was so slight.

“I’m not worried about the car. I can get another vehicle, but there’s only one of you in the world, treasured and irreplaceable.” His voice soothed, exciting her at the same time, a balm to her soul and yet something to stir her soul, as well. He was charming indeed, if not a prince. So how was she going to keep from succumbing to those charms?

It took all her willpower not to wrap her arms around his neck and ask him to never let her go. The voice of reason that he might be carrying her only to help her filtered through the fog of fascination, a reminder that she’d promised herself she’d never be a weakling again. She managed to unlock the door with her left hand and turn the handle, then sighed, recalling the condition she’d left her teeny apartment in. Nothing like the pristine palatial place where he must live.

“My apologies for the mess.” Her apartment probably looked like a tornado had gone through it. After a mudslide.

He opened the front door with his foot and carried her inside. “What mess?”

Huh. Good question.

Rachel looked around, unable to believe her eyes, and blinked several times. The place looked too tidy to be hers.

Was she wrong about the meds wearing off? Had she accidentally taken him to the wrong apartment? But the key fit the lock, and she recognized her faded sofa and wood-veneer side table. And yes, there was the cage with her pets who squeaked upon sighting her. “Let me see my mice, please.”

He carried her to them and placed her on the carpet nearby. “Sure.”

She dropped to her knees near the cage. “Oh, my darlings. No, I didn’t abandon you. I hope you’re okay.”

There was no odor, so the cage must’ve been cleaned and filled with fresh shavings. Gratitude swelled her heart. She’d have to thank Irene profusely. With fresh food awaiting them, the mice looked happy and healthy. And all five of them were there. Even Button, found and safely back in his cage before the boat trip. No new runaways, a possibility when the cage was opened for cleaning. If she could hug her pets, she would have.

With caution, she opened the cage and let Button, always the most curious one, climb on her arm, then on her shoulder as she closed the door. He tickled her cheek with his whiskers, making her chuckle. “This is Button.” Then she introduced the rest of the mice and gave them treats.

“Nice to meet you all.” He turned to her and whispered. “Am I supposed to shake their paws or something?”

She chuckled again. “No. You’re a stranger to them now. But mice can learn to recognize their owner. And Button loves staying on my shoulder. We watch lots of shows together. I usually skip the ones that have cats, though. For obvious reasons.”

He chuckled, too, the sound warming her. “They are adorable.”

“I agree.” After adding more food and putting in fresh water, she nestled Button back on the fresh shavings in his cage and let another mouse run on her uninjured shoulder as she looked around.

Irene must’ve hired professional cleaners. Most of the apartment was unrecognizable. They’d even gotten out the coffee stain on the carpet where she’d spilled her mug while getting ready for her date with Tex—she was going to do carpet cleaning when she returned, honest. The carpet was a shade lighter than the dark gray she’d left, so it must’ve been shampooed. The beige tile sparkled, and the grout looked not one but two shades lighter.

No dust coated the wannabe cherrywood dresser, and the dishes were missing from the now-gleaming metal sink. The jacket she’d dropped on the living room floor hung on the back of the chair now, with her shirt folded on the seat. The dirty sock—fine, two of them—seemed to have walked away from the carpet.

The place even smelled nice, with a faint scent of lavender. Must’ve been what the cleaning solution was like.

She owed Irene big time, but then, didn’t she already? And now she’d left the company. But she’d had to do it, hadn’t she? And worse—she still had a confession coming with Tex. She’d have done it already, but she’d better be sure she was clearheaded first.

Hmm, she was blaming too many things on the meds, wasn’t she?

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