Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
I wasn’t sure he’d still think that if and when he found out I hid my pregnancy from him. Our pregnancy. God, that sounded strange.
I let him nudge me toward my door and went inside, taking the opportunity to get some more food in me before I got queasy. That was the trick with morning sickness—never let your stomach get empty. It was counter-intuitive because I’d learned the hard way once I felt sick, I sure as hell didn’t want to eat anything, but eating down the nausea was the only thing that worked.
I kept a sleeve of crackers in my purse at all times, but since I was still at home, I fixed myself a second piece of toast with avocado mashed on top. When I wasn’t nauseated, I was ready to eat for ten. I had a feeling it was only going to get worse.
I ate the toast quickly, but it wasn’t quick enough because a knock at the door indicated Clint was already done. I swore that guy was so manly he made the Marlboro Man look weak.
I threw open the door just as he was about to knock again.
“All set,” he said. His gaze raked over me in my pink scrubs beneath my opened coat. “You’ll have to get a new set of tires for the front. I called Bishop’s, and they should be able to hook you up this morning if you have time to stop there now on your way to work.”
Two new tires. Yay! Not.
“Thanks, I do,” I said calmly. It wasn’t his fault I was wasting my money on things I shouldn’t even need. “I really appreciate your help. It was really nice of you to stop.”
He stood in the doorway and watched as I zipped up my coat and grabbed my purse then locked up. I followed him out to my car.
“Guess you must be feeling better,” he said, turning to face me, like he wanted to make small talk. Like he didn’t want me to leave.
Oh God, this guy. I wished he wasn’t so damn sweet, not that I’d tell him that to his face.
I glanced up at him and smiled. He smiled back. Oh shit, was that a dimple in his scruffy cheek? My stomach flip flopped and not from morning sickness. What was he doing hanging with me when he had a hot grocery-store-shopping girlfriend? No, she was family, but there were hot, single women all over Cooper Valley eager to nab a hot cowboy like him.
“Much better,” I said when I realized he was waiting for a response instead of me staring at him. “Promise not to puke on you today. So how was your, um, family thing, that you went to with your cousin?”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Shelby. My cousin, yes.” We stood beside my car. He advanced, like a hunter stalking his prey, backing me against my door and caging me in. One hand was on the roof, the other at my hip over my thick coat.
“You weren’t—you know—a little bit jealous when you thought she was my girlfriend, were you?” A dark brow winged up as he waited.
I let out an exaggerated pfft and stared at his Adam’s apple. Even that was manly. “What?” I blinked, and I knew my cheeks turned bright pink. I could feel the heat of it in the frigid air. “No. I mean, you and I… we hooked up one time, months ago. Of course, you’ve had other women since.”
Oh God. Why was I prying into this? I really, really didn’t want to hear the answer because if there were others just as pretty as Shelby, I might have to crawl back in bed and throw the covers over my head for… forever.
He shook his head slowly, a little smirk playing on his lips. I remembered how those lips had felt against mine, how he kissed. Wild. Potent. God, he’d been as into it as I had that night.
Okay, maybe I did want to hear. I had to know.
“No one?” Those two words sounded way too hopeful.
His face moved closer to mine until our lips were centimeters apart. I heard him take a deep breath and… growled?
“No one,” he swore. He smelled of cinnamon and a scent I remembered as… Clint. Some kind of soap because he wasn’t the kind of guy who wore—or needed—cologne.
My nipples hardened beneath all my layers as if my body remembered him.
I wasn’t going to kiss him. I definitely had a plan to actively avoid doing anything resembling kissing with Clint. I had a plan to actively avoid Clint, but that wasn’t working.
I stared at that mouth. “Then you haven’t… with anyone… since we—”
“Nope.”
With that one word from his lips, I went up on my tiptoes. That was all it took for my lips to encounter his. As if the devil himself was pushing me up with a nudge from Hell.