by Jane Porter
“They’ll have the basics. Milk, bread, eggs. If we’re lucky we’ll find some ground beef.”
Inside the store, she loaded her basket with the basic essentials, along with a couple bananas, some apples, ground beef, and the only package of chicken breasts in stock. She’d never made Billy a meal before, and wasn’t looking forward to trying to make dinner for all the guys tonight. She wasn’t a great cook and usually lived off cereal, toasted bagels, and canned soup.
Sam added two bags of egg noodles to the basket, a can of cream of mushroom soup, and a small container of sour cream and then took the basket from her. “Does poor man’s stroganoff sound okay?”
“I don’t know what it is.”
“Tonight’s your lucky night,” he said, heading for the cash register. “What about Beck? Does he need anything?”
“Not yet. But this weekend I’ll probably need to buy formula and diapers.”
“If you drive south toward Zion, there’s a town with some bigger stores. Or, if you go to the city of Bryce, just east of the park entrance, you’ll find everything you need there.”
“So, there are some real towns around here.”
“Yes. You just have to be willing to drive and know where to find them.”
Back at the cabin, Sam unpacked the groceries and began dinner while she checked on the guys. They were all asleep—even Tommy who’d stretched out on the couch, with Beck’s car seat parked next to him.
She smiled crookedly, warmth filling her chest. Good thing she wasn’t a sucker for a pretty face because the Wyatt brothers all looked far too appealing when paired with a baby.
*
After dinner, everyone called it a night, with Beck and Erika disappearing into their room, while the brothers sorted out where they’d crash for the night. Sam and Tommy left after breakfast the next day, trying to make Oklahoma for the weekend’s rodeo, with the plan to pick up Sam’s truck the following Monday.
After they’d gone, the cabin felt different. Everything became quieter, far less lively.
A little less happy.
Billy spent most of the day in bed in his room, and she’d check in on him, but he was definitely withdrawn.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked midafternoon, popping her head once more around his partially open door. His blinds were down and the room dark with shadows now that the sun had shifted in the sky. She couldn’t help feeling worried. He’d had breakfast with his brothers but nothing to eat or drink since then. “Water? Tea? A snack?”
“I’m fine,” he answered flatly, before adding on a thank you.
“Anything special you want for dinner?”
“I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“I thought you liked to eat,” she said, approaching the bed.
“I do, but not hungry today.”
She reached out and touched his forehead. His skin was smooth. He wasn’t feverish. He wasn’t cold, either. “Do you think it’s the pain meds?”
“Maybe.”
“Or your brothers leaving.”
For a moment, he said nothing then he let out a raspy laugh. “Am I that pathetic?”
There was no chair in the room and so she sat down on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were adjusting to the dim light, and she could see the light blue of his sling holding his left arm still. “You love them. That’s not a bad thing.”
“It’s hard being left behind. I wanted to be there this weekend.”
She bit her tongue to prevent her from answering. She couldn’t understand how Billy could even think of competing when he was so badly injured.
“At least Sam will be with Tommy. They’ll compete together for the team events, so that’s good,” Billy added, struggling to sit up.
She rose and adjusted a pillow behind his back. “Do you need another pillow?”
“This bed isn’t very comfortable.”
“Maybe because you’ve been in it all day. I bet you could use a change of scenery. You have a very nice leather recliner in the living room.”
“Is this your way of telling me you’re feeling lonely?”
She choked back a laugh. “In case you haven’t noticed, Beck keeps me quite busy.”
“And I haven’t done much to help out today,” he said, swinging his legs out from beneath the covers. His flannel shirt was half on, buttoned over the injured shoulder and arm. An ACE bandage wrapped tightly around his rips, giving her glimpses of bare skin.
“You get a pass today,” she said, smiling. “Now tomorrow, who knows?”
“And Beck? How is he?”
“He’s been napping but I think he’s waking up.”
“Does he need a bottle?”
“He will.” She watched him rise. He swayed a little on his feet. She nearly reached out to help him but stopped herself in time. “You okay?”
“Fine. Just give me a second.”
“You don’t need an arm on the way to the living room?”
“I have two of my own, and my legs work just fine.”
“Okay. I’m going to get Beck up from his nap, change him and then bring him to you for a bottle.”
When Erika emerged from her room, Billy was in his leather chair, a pillow wedged beneath his left elbow, the TV on to an early news broadcast.
She positioned Beck on Billy’s lap so that he could give the baby a bottle. “You’re good?” she asked him, cocking her head, frowning down at him.
“Do I not look good?” he drawled, giving her a look that made her blush.
He was so confident, but also so sexy. It wasn’t fair. He was completely out of her league. She had no idea how to manage him. “Fishing for compliments?” she flashed tartly.
“Just wanted to be sure I hadn’t lost my charm.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you’re good, I’d love to go take a shower.”
“Take your time. Beck and I are just going to be watching the news.”
*
After her shower, Erika heated up the leftover stroganoff for dinner, and then took Beck and put him on a blanket on the floor so Billy could eat.
She’d been worried there might not be enough, but Billy ate his fill, but didn’t ask for seconds, which was good, since there wasn’t any. She carried the dishes to the kitchen sink to soak and then refilled Billy’s tall water cup and brought him the prescription bottle from the kitchen counter. “You’re supposed to take this one with food in the evening,” she said.
“Thanks.”
She pulled the blue gel teething ring out of the diaper bag and handed it to Beck before sitting down on the couch. “Are you hurting?”
“A bit, but I’m holding off the pain meds until I go to bed. I don’t like to take them too often. Don’t want to get dependent on them. I’ll probably stop taking them in another day or so since they make me a little groggy.”
“Is groggy bad? You’re not supposed to be doing anything but healing right now.”
“I’ve got my horses to care for. Beck that needs attention. And you,” he said, looking straight at her, “have work to do. Work you haven’t been able to do. Two weeks in a row now.”
She was touched, and appreciated he was thinking of her. “Tomorrow, I’m hoping to get some work done.”
“Good.”
She was trying to feel optimistic, too, but she was also aware that Billy was limited in what he could do without help. She wasn’t even sure what he could do. He hadn’t asked her for any assistance today, but she knew his brothers had been like a morning nurse, changing his bandages, aiding him with his sling, before helping him with his shirt, ensuring he was partially dressed before they left. “What will you need me to do for before bed? Any bandages need to be changed?”
“Can you not say it like they’re diapers?”
She snorted, and then giggled at her own inelegant snort.
Billy lifted an eyebrow which only made her laugh all over again. Erika didn’t know why she was laughing, only that it felt good, and for the firs
t time in a long time, she felt happy. And it was an amazing way to feel.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Erika had only just finished making coffee and dressing when Billy appeared in the kitchen in nothing but baggy black sweatpants that hung off his lean hips, revealing a torso of chiseled abs and sinewy muscle. He had bruises across his chest, as well as scars, fresh scars from the recent surgery, and then older ones.
She tried to drag her gaze up to his face, but his body was fascinating. It was an athlete’s body, a mature man’s body, the embodiment of strength with so much muscle. She found herself wanting to study each hollow and shape, shadow and scar, tracing the lines and planes.
It took every ounce of her discipline to raise her gaze and look him in the eye. “Morning,” she said.
“Morning. Hoping you can give me a hand,” he said, holding a big Ziploc bag filled with gauze and tape, while stretchy bandages and the blue sling dangled from his fingers.
“Of course. How do you want to do this? What first?”
He set everything on the kitchen island and pulled out a stool and sat down. “Gauze and tape on the surgery wound, and then we’ll wrap my chest with the first bandage, and finally the sling.”
“Aren’t you supposed to have another stretchy bandage on top of the sling, to hold it all in place?”
“I’m not going to worry about it. Keeping the surgical wound clean is key, and then the rib compression thing helps a lot, and so does the sling.”
He walked her through covering up the dark red and purple wound on his shoulder. She could still see all the stitches and was glad when it was covered by the gauze, and securely taped.
“Now the ribs,” he said, rising. “Just wrap the compression belt around my chest and smooth the Velcro closed.”
She’d seen Tommy do this yesterday and had a general idea of what she’d need to do, but somehow it was different when she was the one standing in front of him. “You can’t lift your arms, can you?”
“Not the left one. You’ll need to get close, slide it up under my elbow and pull tight.”
She was facing him, almost hip to hip, torso to torso and she could feel his warmth, heat radiating off of him. Admittedly, the cabin was warm. Billy liked setting the thermostat at a comfortable temperature, to keep him from aching from cold when he wasn’t moving. But confronting Billy’s bare chest, and broad shoulders, and narrow waist made her throat dry, and her heart do weird little skips.
“I probably have coffee breath,” she warned.
“I like coffee.”
Her face grew hot, and butterflies filled her middle as she took the wide stretchy compression belt from the counter. She slid it around his waist and then lifted it up his torso until she could pull it tightly closed. Her nose was almost pressed to his chest and he smelled amazing, skin and a hint of soap, or body wash, but whatever it was, it was delicious. He smelled delicious. It’d be so easy to put a little tiny kiss there, right between his pecs, but she stopped herself from going down that path.
“Sling next?” she asked huskily.
He sat back down on the stool, and she had to step between his legs to slip the strap around his neck. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.
“You won’t,” he answered, “at least not more than I already hurt.”
She looked up into his blue eyes. They were exactly the same shade as Beck’s. “You’re in pain now?”
“I tried to do too much in the shower—” He broke off as she arched an eyebrow. “Do you have a dirty mind?”
“No.” Erika blushed and vigorously shook her head, and yet they were so close, and he was so warm and there was something powerful in the close proximity, something intoxicating. “I—” She broke off, and bit into her lower lip. “Nothing. Let’s just get you dressed.”
She helped ease his left elbow into the blue sling, drawing the strap through and pulling it taut, stopping when Billy told her that it was good. She had to lean in to press the Velcro pieces together, ensuring a snug fit, and with her nose practically in the side of his neck, her heart raced, her pulse pounding, even as desire coiled in the pit of her stomach, making her feel breathless. Dizzy.
She peeked up at his mouth. He had firm lips, just full enough to make her think he’d know how to kiss. But of course he’d know how to kiss. He knew how to do everything. It was why women flocked to see him in every town.
Usually that would be enough to pull her back, bring her to her senses, but this morning she didn’t want to move away. This morning she wanted to move in.
She wanted to touch him, feel him, feel his mouth on hers.
She couldn’t ever remember wanting to be kissed this badly.
But just wanting something didn’t make it right, or realistic, and she needed to remain in reality. Firmly rooted in reality. She couldn’t afford to be one of those women who lost their head over a hot guy with great pheromones.
“You could probably use some clothes at this point,” she said, heart still racing, voice unsteady. “Is there a shirt or sweatshirt I could grab for you?”
“There’s a light gray sweatshirt hanging on a hook by the front door. I’ll take that one.”
It was a short walk to the door, and there was only one sweatshirt on the coat hooks. She lifted it off, glad to see it had a zipper, and carried it back to him. Billy took the sweatshirt from her, slid his right arm into the right sleeve, and then sat still while she helped draw the left side over his immobile shoulder and arm.
But just lifting his right arm had exposed more of his magnificent torso, the thick compression band doing more to define the thick muscles in his back than hide them. His hard, carved abs appeared below the edge of the compression garment, disappearing into the waistband of his sweats. He had an eight-pack at the very least. She wouldn’t let herself count them all, only that his body was ridiculously hot and she understood why women wanted it. Him.
She did, too.
Just a kiss, and maybe—
“If you could just tug the fabric over the left shoulder a bit more, we should be able to zip the sweatshirt closed,” he said.
Erika was having a hard time processing what he was saying. She looked into his eyes, needing him to repeat the instructions. His intensely blue eyes seemed to be looking all the way through her, straight into her heart and soul. He wasn’t smiling either, and a tiny shiver raced through her, making her skin sensitive all over.
“Just adjust the left shoulder,” he said, his voice pitched deep. “Zip it up, as far as you can, and I’ll be good for the day.”
Her hand shook ever so slightly as she connected the sweatshirt at the hem, hooking the zipper threads. She drew the zipper up, closing the soft cotton fabric over his chest. “How’s that?” she asked, stopping zipping halfway between the hard planes of his chest. “Or do you want it higher? Not sure how much movement you need.”
“You could take it up another inch,” he said.
Again, her gaze met his and her breath caught in her throat, emotions flitting through her—desire, curiosity, need. She reached up to zip another inch, her face so close to his chest that she felt surrounded by his powerful body, cocooned by his warmth and scent. Zipper sorted, she adjusted the sling strap a fraction of an inch, her fingertips brushing his chest. He was all muscle and firm, and her insides felt wobbly with want. “What soap did you use?”
“Whatever was in there. I think it’s just a bar of soap. You don’t like it?”
“No. It’s nice. You smell good.”
“Thank you.”
He smelled better than good but she wasn’t going to tell him that, just as she wasn’t going to tell him how much she wanted to kiss him, just to brush her lips over his, and see what it felt like, see if she liked it.
Maybe he wasn’t a good kisser.
Maybe he didn’t kiss the way she wanted.
She almost hoped so, because right now she found him virtually irresistible.
“All good?” he
asked.
She forced herself to give him a brisk pat on his chest before stepping backward. Erika ignored the fact that her legs were embarrassingly weak. Just like her insides felt weak and shivery, and her lower back felt tingly. “There you are. Good to go.”
“Thank you.”
She managed a smile, hoping it looked serene. “How about some coffee?”
“I’d love some. Does Beck need a bottle?”
“He had one earlier. He should be good for a bit.”
“What about breakfast then?”
Erika frowned. “For Beck?”
“For us. Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’ll probably have something later. I don’t eat right away—” She broke off, realizing what he was saying. Billy was hungry. “You eat breakfast.”
“I like breakfast,” he agreed, prolonging the conversation.
*
Billy wasn’t ready to let her escape and move to a different room. He liked having her close. She made the morning feel special, as if it was a big weekend, or a family holiday.
Erika had always been pretty in a don’t-touch-me sort of way, making him feel as though she was too educated, too polished, too sophisticated for a cowboy like him. But when she’d helped him with the bandages and then his sweatshirt, he’d seen something different in her eyes. She’d been softer, warmer. Approachable.
He’d been tempted to reach for her and pull her closer to him, drawing her more snugly between his thighs so that he could feel her against him. He wanted to trace the line of her jaw and tilt her head up to kiss the hollow beneath her ear, and then lower, along the side of her neck. He wanted to feel her breasts against his chest, and let her bottom fill his hands. She was very much a woman, and her curves and softness called to him. She was so pretty, so smart, so appealing, and yet he respected her too much to make a move. He couldn’t risk hurting her, or alienating her, not when Beck needed her so much. Far better to deny the attraction than let it get out of hand.
“Normally, I’d make my own breakfast,” he said, leaning back against the island, “but it’s tough to crack the eggs and do it all one-handed, especially when my ribs are still so sore. Would you be willing to make eggs for me today?”
