Page 41 of The Convict Gets His Girl

He snorted and closed the curtains, plunging the room into darkness. He kicked his boots off and moved both pairs to the area by the door. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he found her phone in her pocket and plugged it into the cord by the nightstand. He slipped his socks and shirt off, then sat on the bed to text Hunter to tell him he wouldn't be helping at the ranch today. He laid back on the bed, over the blanket beside her, careful not to disturb her rest.

As he lay there, her scent enveloped him—wildflowers that grew rampant in the nearby fields and the earthy musk of damp soil after a rain. His eyes fluttered closed as he basked in it, in her presence beside him. It was home, it was Jewel, and it seeped into his senses, lulling him into the welcoming arms of sleep. Yet underneath it all, he worried about Gemma's words and what Jewel hadn't told him yet.

He opened his phone, searching for information and a way to help her.

ChapterFifteen

Soft sunlight filtered through dusty pine-framed windows, casting amber patches across weathered wooden floors. Jewel's consciousness drifted upward like fog lifting from a valley, her body warm and unexpectedly comfortable against something solid and radiating heat. Her cheek rested against the solid plane of a man's naked chest, the steady rise and fall beneath her an anchor in the disorienting haze of coming awake.

Chase.

Her stomach fluttered at their closeness, his arm wrapped around her back as she lay plastered to his side. A blanket lay draped between them, tangling her legs and making her overly warm in the little cabin. No wonder she'd slept so well.

Their clothes remained layered between them, a protective barrier preventing anything more than innocent proximity. She still wore her jeans and t-shirt, and a glance down his bare chest showed jeans covering his lower half.

Her mind grappled with the fragmented memories of the night before, the fog of sleep still clinging stubbornly to her thoughts. Sunlight streamed through the curtain gaps, casting golden patterns on the wooden beams above.

She didn't remember leaving the clinic or what had happened to the dog. Despite not having a license, he must have driven them here to his place of refuge, this old cabin of his grandparents' that they'd played in so many times as kids. He'd taken care of her, tucked her in, not taken advantage even though she secretly wanted him to.

Jewel's breath caught, trapped between gratitude and an ache that shouldn't be there—the yearning for more than just shared dreams and borrowed heat.

Her gaze traced the contours of his face—the shadows defining his jaw, the long lashes and delicate shadows of his cheekbones. A faint scar near his temple caught her attention, a remnant of some long-forgotten childhood adventure. His brown hair fell forward, exactly as it had when they were kids, before high school transformed everything.

Back then, he'd grown his hair to his shoulders like every other teenage boy trying to prove something. Now, he was different. Broader. Stronger. No longer the skinny, bony teenager who'd once been the annoying little brother who'd tried to follow them around the ranch.

He wasn't the same boy, but she wasn't the same girl either.

So what was she doing here, wishing there were less layers separating them? Nothing had happened. He'd been a good friend to see her somewhere safe to sleep.

A strange flutter of disappointment rippled through her abdomen, surprising and unwelcome. Why should she feel let down? She was a responsible mother, a professional veterinarian who'd spent fifteen years carefully constructing a life of independence. A life without complications. Without men.

Without Chase.

But now that she was here, in his arms, she ached to wake up like this more. Or rather, she wanted to wake up like this but with less layers between them.

The cabin felt smaller suddenly, the walls closing in with memories and unspoken possibilities. Her organized life—the one she'd built entirely on her own—seemed impossibly fragile in this moment.

One touch. One look from Chase could unravel everything.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mix of vulnerability and unexpected longing hanging in the still morning air.

Her fingertips instinctively traced a barely perceptible line on the blanket, hovering just above where it met his chest. Close enough to feel his warmth, far enough to maintain distance.

"You think loudly," Chase mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "I can hear your thoughts spinning already."

Jewel froze. Caught. She licked her lips but didn't look up into his eyes or move from the shelter of his arm. "Um, mom bladder. Need to pee."

He hummed, the sound making his chest vibrate and sending a tingle through her body. "Bathroom's through the door behind you."

She slipped from beneath the blanket, slowly leaving him, disappointment spreading again. Her bare feet shuffled across the wooden floor, exploring the unfamiliar cabin. Each step felt like a deliberate escape, searching for something—anything—to ground herself.

The bathroom was rustic, yet still had both a bathtub and a large shower. A vintage mirror hung slightly askew, reflecting her disheveled appearance. Jewel splashed cold water on her face, gripping the porcelain sink. Her reflection stared back—tired eyes, tousled hair, a woman caught between who she was and who she might have been.

When she emerged, Chase was propped up against the headboard, ankles crossed, those hazel eyes—always too perceptive—tracking her every movement.

"Come back to bed," he said, his voice a lazy invitation that made her heart race as he patted the comforter next to him. Comfort. Warmth. Safety. Everything she'd been missing, wrapped up in such simple words.

Her body wanted to—God, how it wanted to—but her mind screamed caution. She shook her head, stepping past the bed. One foot. Then another. Escape was her only strategy.

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