Page 70 of The Cowboy's Country Charm

He laid her clothes on the bed and shoved into a T-shirt. He’d wash up when he got home.

That had been some night of lovemaking. Not even getting dinged in the head could erase the good feelings that surged inside him. He knew it would be good with her. But it was better than good.

If things were different, if he didn’t have those nightmares, if he could trust himself, she’d be the one. But he was sure his confession last night had crossed him off her list of ideal candidates to get involved with. That always had been his fear, especially after the air force: that he came with too much baggage to be considered husband material by any decent woman.

That was why he had gone for casual, no-expectations relationships. Easier on him if he could keep things light, not get too invested. Not get hurt when the woman hightailed it out of the relationship. But even though he hadn’t known Kristy long, he didn’t feel casual about her. And last night had only deepened those feelings.

Now that she knew about his nightmares, knew the ugly truth, she’d probably want to end it.

He tucked his old clothes into the saddlebag, and the door opened. He whirled around. The room spun. He stood still, not moving until the room settled.

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to sit in that chair and wait for me.” She stood with her hands on her luscious hips.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Nothing is bothering me.”

“So you say. But you fell, hit your head, and passed out.”

Yeah, he definitely had too much baggage for her.

She set about gathering her extra set of clothes. He sat down on the bed and watched her get dressed. She turned her back to him as she pulled up her T-shirt. If his head wasn’t aching, he’d have laughed. He’d seen plenty of her in last night’s shadowy light.

And he remembered every detail. The smoothness of her skin, the roundness of her breasts, the tightness of her belly as he’d kissed his way down to the promise land. He remembered the salty taste on his tongue, her mews of pleasure, the sweetness of her lips, her shuddered breaths.

After what they did during the night, there wasn’t anything to be shy about.

“After we stop at the ER, I’m going to take a nice, hot shower.” Kristy combed her hair with her fingers now that she’d changed into jeans and a shirt. Her shiny blond tresses framed her face like the petals of the sunflowers sitting on the table.

“I don’t need a doctor. And there’s the creek, if you’re inclined.”

She faked a shiver. “No thank you. I’m feeling too good to ruin it with a cold bath.”

He reached out for her. She came and stood between his legs, her hands on his shoulders. Maybe there was still a chance.

“Last night was special for me. I hope it was for you too.”

She nodded.

“Are you looking forward to more?” He held his breath for her answer.

She nodded. She leaned down for a kiss. He obliged, even though his temples were rapping out a beat. Maybe she wasn’t going to run after all.

After a half-hour wait at the ER, with Kristy arguing several times that he had to stay and be looked at or she wouldn’t answer his calls, the doctor examined Rusty, took an x-ray, told him to take acetaminophen (no NSAIDs) and not to be alone for twenty-four hours, and sent him home.

If this was what it took to continue seeing her, he’d obliged. Because she didn’t sound like she would be bailing on him. Maybe she was just being nice to his face and when he left her, she’d ghost him. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“I told you it was nothing.” He held open the car door for her. He felt fine. Even the pounding had diminished into tapping. Good enough to drive.

“If you hadn’t passed out, I wouldn’t have been so concerned. But you were out of it when I found you.” She slipped past him and settled into the passenger seat.

Good that she wasn’t going to argue about him driving. She wouldn’t have won.

Once in the driver’s seat, he turned on the engine and patted her leg as he shifted the car into drive. “I appreciate your concern.” The fact she cared enough about him to insist he see a doctor he’d take as a positive sign.

“How is your head now?” she asked.

“Not too bad.” He reached over and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a small bottle of acetaminophen. “Two of these will have me feeling even better.”

He popped them into his mouth and swallowed. With that, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He’d take that as a good sign too.

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