Home > Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders #10)(30)

Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders #10)(30)
Author: Lorelei James

“Shitty.”

“Need a beer?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He set the bags on the kitchen table. “Landon sleeping?”

“Finally.”

Brandt moved in behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, which were hunched up by her ears. She immediately relaxed a little. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here the last couple days. Especially since Landon has been sick.” She hadn’t shrugged him off, so he kept his hands right where they were. “Tell me something, Jess. Have you thought about backing out of this deal?”

“Maybe last night when I was up walking the floor with him at four a.m. I considered loading Landon up and driving to your house.”

“I can imagine.”

While she struggled—Brandt sensed she wanted to say something—just for a second, he closed his eyes and pretended this was a normal night in his life. A sweet, sexy wife to come home to. Supper on the stove. A cold beer nearby. As the phantom life teased him, he inhaled slowly. The scent of her shampoo drifted into his nose, filled his lungs. The scent was hard to place—a mix of fruit and honey. But beneath that aroma was the undeniable heady scent of Jessie. Which was better than any perfume in the world.

“Brandt.”

“Mmm?” He let his thumbs sweep across the muscles between her shoulder blades.

“You said ‘backing out of this deal’.”

“And?”

“And what am I getting out of this deal?”

That snapped him out of his fantasy lickety-split. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’m thinking about…some things.”

Brandt angled just a little closer. “Anything you want, Jessie, all you have to do is name it and it’s yours. Anything.” Before Brandt felt cocky or relieved, or hell, even hopeful she’d wrap herself around him and kiss him, she bolted.

“I’d better get these groceries put away, huh?”

He’d didn’t push it, not now anyway.

Landon woke up about halfway through Brandt’s first beer. The kid started out cranky, but that morphed into sweetness after Brandt dosed him with grape-flavored Tylenol. Landon dragged his blanket with him and curled into Brandt as he sat on the couch, watching the news.

Even Lexie sensed something was wrong with her tormentor. She sniffed his feet and put her head on Brandt’s lap so she could lick Landon’s hand.

Landon wasn’t interested in eating Jessie’s beef and noodle casserole. He didn’t suck down his bottle like a junkie, either. Brandt hated to watch Jessie eating alone, but he couldn’t move now that Landon had finally settled down.

After about an hour, Jessie said, “Why don’t you tuck him in bed? I don’t think he’ll wake up. He’s had a rough couple of days.”

“So have you.” Brandt grinned at her. “Want me to tuck you in bed too?”

Jessie blinked. Blushed. Then a sneaky smile stole across her face. “We’ll see.”

When Brandt returned from putting Landon down, Jessie was washing dishes. He rolled up his sleeves, snagged an embroidered dishtowel and stood beside her. Right beside her.

She gave him a strange look. “What are you doing?”

“Helpin’. Doesn’t seem fair that you cooked supper and have to wash the dirty dishes too.” He rinsed a plate and began to dry it, still feeling her eyes on him. “What?”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“At your service.”

They chatted easily, although Brandt was surprised by how long it took to wash dishes with two people…until he realized, Jessie was dragging out their time together as much as he was.

Don’t hope, man. You’ve done this before and it nearly destroyed you.

When she began to rub the back of her arm, Brandt took a chance. “Want me to do that?”

“Nah. It’ll probably be fine by tomorrow.”

“You sure? Because after I left the doctor’s office today I stopped by Healing Touch Massage and talked to AJ. I told her you’d been carting Landon around nonstop for three days, and she gave me some specific pointers on how to loosen up those muscles.”

Jessie’s eyes went wide. “Seriously? You did that? For me?”

“Yeah. I don’t think you understand how bad I felt leavin’ you here with him, when I promised that wouldn’t happen. So I’d like to make it up to you.”

“By giving me a massage?”

Brandt held up his hands in the face of her obvious skepticism. “No biggie if you don’t want it.”

“Would my clothes be on? Or off?”

Think with your head, not your dick. Do not blow this. “I believe AJ said the part of your body bein’

massaged needed to be uncovered. So since it’d be an arm and back massage, probably I could work around a…short-sleeved T-shirt or something.”

A thoughtful look crossed her face. “How about if I wore a sports bra?”

Hell yes. And maybe some of those ass-hugging boy shorts. “Ah sure. I suppose that’d be okay.”

“Where we doing this?”

“In your bedroom,” slipped out right away. Dammit.

“Okay. Give me about five minutes?”

“Sure.” That’d allow him time to brush his teeth, shave, see if he’d brought four or five condoms…

No. He had to be a perfect gentleman. Just a massage. Nothing else.

That sucked.

He drank the rest of his beer in the kitchen. At the five minute and thirteen second mark, he knocked on her bedroom door. “Jess? You ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

Brandt stepped over the threshold and the first thing he noticed was her butt. She hadn’t worn sweats, but ass-hugging workout shorts.

Do not do a celebratory fist pump, man. Act casual.

His gaze leisurely followed the curve of her back, the very sexy, very feminine curve of her back, stopping when his eyes reached the wide band of her black sports bra. It criss-crossed between her shoulder blades and the straps separated and disappeared down her front.

He’d forgotten what all that creamy, mouthwatering flesh looked like in the flesh.

Jessie looked at him strangely. “What’s wrong?”

“I just realized I forgot to ask AJ one thing. Where am I supposed to sit when I’m givin’ you a massage?”

“Good point. How about if we both sit on the bed. You can sit behind me.”

“I guess that’ll work.”

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