Chapter 9
1764 Words
Chapter Nine
A knock startled her awake. Sunlight streamed in her bedroom window, turning the dust motes to sparkling diamonds. She was still fully clothed, on top of the covers. She’d spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, nested in the warmth of Blake’s leather jacket. Tumbling Blake’s and her father’s words over and over in her mind until they were as smooth as river rocks.
You fight because you’d die before you admit you want to f**k.
I ain’t sellin’. Especially to the likes of them.
For f**k’s sake, will you let me help you?
People have changed, Maddie Jane. They’re proud of you.
Don’t insult me by lying to me.
Would you be slippery and wet for me?
The knock sounded again. “Maddie?”
She rolled over groaning, reaching for the alarm clock to check the time. Eight-thirty a.m.
No news was good news. The doctors had been right. Her dad had made it through the night. She lay back and inhaled deeply only to be assailed by Blake’s scent on the collar of his coat. It had comforted her throughout the night, like the hug she desperately needed but was too proud to ask for. But in the light of day, lying here drenched in… in him… was too much. It scraped at her nerves like coarse sandpaper taming wood. Left too many edges rough and vulnerable to catching sparks.
She sat up, and rubbing her eyes, reached for her glasses. After a quick hesitation, she picked up the blue ones.
A knock sounded again, and this time the door opened a c***k.
“Maddie? You okay?” Blake stuck his head in, his eyes lighting as they met hers.
Had he shaved? How long had he been up?
“Sleep okay?”
She shook her head. “Nope. You?”
He smiled ruefully. “It was better than sleeping on the ground during a bison drive. But only a little.”
He had definitely cleaned up. He looked entirely too composed and fresh for having spent the night on a lumpy couch.
“May I?” He pushed the door open a bit wider, and held out a steaming mug of coffee.
She couldn’t help smiling. “You figured out my dad’s ancient coffee pot? That thing makes terrible coffee.”
“Use one just like it when we move the herd. And I promise, I don’t drink bad coffee unless I have to.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned. Her heart pounded a little harder against her ribs. She stood and reached for the mug, wrapping her hands around its warmth. She ducked her head and took a sip. Silence stretched awkwardly between them.
“You can keep the coat if you like.”
Her head snapped up to meet his penetrating gaze. It was hard to tell what was behind his eyes, and it made her squirm. Was he teasing her?
She should have crawled under the covers like a normal person. Not that there was anything remotely normal about this situation. She’d never spent the night here without her dad, and now Blake was towering over her in her bedroom.
Yeah. Awkward.
The air between them grew heavy.
She handed him back the mug and started shrugging out of the coat, suddenly wanting to put distance between them. “Here.” She held out the coat. “I should have given it back last night.”
His eyes softened. “Keep it.”
“No. Really. I’m sure I can borrow something over at Martha and Eddie’s.”
He studied her intently. “Don’t you keep a change of clothes here?”
She shook her head. “Why would I?”
“It’s your home.” A note of disbelief entered his voice.
Irritation blossomed, and she pushed on her glasses. “Not.”
“Prairie’s not all bad, Maddie.”
She rolled her eyes, dropping her arm. “The one thing you and my dad have in common. May I have my coffee back please?”
His mouth flattened, and he handed her the mug. “You need to get off your high horse about the people in this town.” He spun on his heel and left, not bothering to shut the door behind him.
Why did everything with him have to be a sparring match? Or a kiss fest?
Fighting or f*****g.
She took another sip of the coffee. The man did make a mean cup of coffee. Way better than her dad’s.
Whatever was between them would simply have to be ignored. She needed to get her dad sorted and then find a decent internet connection so she could keep working during her stay. The one at Martha and Eddie’s was spotty and not secure, so that was out. As was the public library. They were still on dial-up. She could book a hotel in Manhattan, but that was public wi-fi. At least there she could skype her team. If she was incommunicado for more than a few days, her boss would have her head.
Squaring her shoulders resolutely, she rooted in her bag for yesterday’s work clothes. First things first. She needed a shower. Taking her mug with her, she headed down the hall to the bunkhouse’s sole bathroom. The shower hadn’t been used. Did that mean Blake had gone home to shower and then returned? Shaking her head, she turned on the water. He was the least of her worries.
Twenty minutes later, she emerged ready to meet the day, and was met by the smell of bacon wafting from the kitchen.
Geez.
He made decent coffee and he made breakfast? What else was going to surprise her about Blake Sinclaire? Her dad never made her breakfast.
She paused at the threshold to the kitchen, studying Blake over the stove. He moved with the practiced ease of someone who regularly made breakfast. Broad shoulders pulled his shirt taut across his back. And his a*s… Heat bloomed in her chest, leaving her breathless. His Levi’s perfectly molded to his backside and left little… No. Too much to her imagination. Her p***y throbbed eagerly as she stared, captivated.
He turned and grinned as his eyes raked over her. Her flesh tingled under his gaze.
“A little overdressed for the hospital?”
Embarrassment that he’d caught her staring replaced the warm fuzzies. “Of course I am,” she said a little too brusquely. “I went straight from the Fermilab stables to the airport.”
He tutt-tutted as he turned back to the skillet. “I see mornings agree with you. Sit down. This will be ready in a sec.”
She shouldn’t have snapped at him that way. But he just… got under her skin in the most irritating way. Like a pricker in her sock. There was no place in her life for an agitator. An outlier. She couldn’t concentrate around him… couldn’t think. She did irrational things around him like… kiss, and pour beer down people’s pants.
He… set her off balance.
Made her…..feel things.
Blake Sinclaire was quite possibly the most challenging, unpredictable man she’d ever met. And that meant she needed to get home and back to her orderly, predictable life as quickly as possible.
He placed a plate in front of her filled with the standard country breakfast fare. Bacon, fried eggs, and potatoes. Might as well jam a needle of cholesterol right into her heart. She’d bet the last dollar in her wallet if she peeped in the fridge, there wouldn’t be anything green.
“Can I refill your coffee?”
“Stop being so chivalrous.”
He scowled. “Look. I know your type. You exist on too much coffee and only eat when someone waves food in your face. You’ve had a helluva past twenty-four hours, and I’m guessing the only thing you’ve consumed in the last day besides coffee were the peanuts on the plane.”
So. Busted.
He stood over her, arms crossed over his chest. Her eyes drifted to the muscles pulling his sleeves tight.
“Am I right?”
She didn’t need to answer because the flush was already crawling up her neck.
“Thank you. I apologize.”
He pulled out the chair across from her, and sat down as she dug into her breakfast. It was good. Surprisingly so.
“Accepted.” He rocked back on the chair legs. “I know this is a stressful time, but try and accept that there are people besides your immediate family who might want to help you.”
“I’m a Hansen. We don’t take handouts.”
No need for handouts when she could survive just fine on her own, thank you very much. Being dependent on someone else was flat out dangerous.
She couldn’t do it. It was too risky. Both professionally and emotionally. She’d learned that lesson in both arenas times ten from Marcus. She wouldn’t make that mistake. Not ever again.
He banged the chair legs back down, scowling. “Jesus, Maddie. No one’s giving you a handout.”
She was clearly losing this argument, and the expression on his face said he wasn’t about to let it go. So she did what any right thinking person would do. She changed the subject.
“Where’d you learn to cook like this?”
A sardonic smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he shook his head. “You can play it that way if you want, Maddie. But our conversation isn’t over.”
“C’mon.” She propped her chin on her hand and gave him what she hoped passed for a flirtatious grin. “Who taught you to cook?”
Blake shook his head, laughing a little. “Mrs. Sanchez, our housekeeper. But I’m only good for breakfast. She preps dinner several times a week.”
If she kept bombarding him with questions, they wouldn’t drift back into dangerous territory. “So when did you eat?
“At about five this morning, over at my place.”
“Wait. How’d you get over there?” He rolled his eyes. “On a horse. Ben rode over with a mount and we rode back together. Your cushy city life has softened you.”
“I wouldn’t call the hours I keep cushy.”
“By choice, not necessity.”
She waved a piece of bacon at him. “There’s a reason I left Prairie, cowboy.”
He c****d his head at her. “Let me guess. No one understood you.”
She rolled her eyes at his reference to the previous night’s discussion. If you could call verbal sparring a discussion. “No one could teach me.” She glared at him. The way he got under her skin rankled.
He returned her glare with a steady gaze, an amused smile flicking at the corners of his mouth. “You’re adorable when you’re wrong.” His eyes smoldered, but he wouldn’t break eye contact.
She ignored the way her pulse fluttered when he sparred with her. “And you’re arrogant when you think you’re right.”
His half smile broke into a lazy, triumphant grin. He looked like the devil himself. “Shall we get you to the hospital?”
She shook her head, pushing her glasses up her nose.
Oh no.
Definitely not.
She refused to be in confined space with him for the two hour round trip.
“If you hand me Gunnar’s keys, I’ll drive myself thanks. I can drop you off on my way out of town.”
He smirked, laughter dancing in his eyes. “That ship sailed at dawn, darlin’. You’re stuck with me today.”
- Writer
