Page 25 of Nanny for the Cowboy

Clover’s wide eyes blink once before the innate gesture to figure out what happened has them tracking downward. In seconds, her stare flares even wider, and Clover turns beet red like she fell asleep outside and came in with a wicked sunburn.

I have to imagine that I’m no fucking better with the way my face is on fire.

Shiiit.

Fumbling, I stoop to grab the towel again, and I wrap that thing back around my hips like it’s a damn contest. The damage is already done, of course. I’m standing there like a moron, and Clover’s eyes have yet to go back into her sockets.

“I…” what the hell am I supposed to say in a situation like this? “…I wanted a drink.”

After a moment, Clover refocuses and nods. “Right, yeah, umm, me too. A drink.”

Silence hangs, both of us unable to look at each other now. Then, Clover is the first to ask the obvious question.

“What, umm, are you doing up so late? I don’t usually see you down here when I can’t sleep.”

“Right, yeah. Can’t say I’ve noticed that about you, so…” I bob my head, any chance at nonchalance utterly destroyed. “I couldn’t sleep either. Lot on my mind.”

“Sure, sure.” Clover nods like I did, this damn bobblehead act that’s fooling absolutely no one. “Is it your arm? The work around the ranch?”

The comment is so insightful that I’m taken aback for a moment. While that’s certainly been on my mind, I can’t say that’s what was behind tonight’s little late-night mistake.

“Umm, mostly, yeah. And you? Having trouble sleeping? Why?”

And why is my voice so high-pitched right now? Oh, and that white-knuckle grip I have on the towel? Ignore that.

Clover meets my eyes, rolling her lips between her teeth, and I have to remind myself not to stare at them.

“Oh, umm, lots of stuff. You know that stressful job I left in the city is still there, so…I worry about what I’ll be in for when I get back.”

Her mood shifts, dropping down, and I swear I hear her mumble, “If I get back.”

It’s also a bit of a sight to see her try to stick her hands in her pockets and then abruptly realize that she has no pockets because she’s wearing pajamas.

You know, the kind that consists of shorts that barely cover her ass and a matching crop top.Jesus fuck, it’s like the world has it out for me.

“Well, I hope that you’re able to get some rest, Lucky.”

Scoffing, Clover eyes me, folding her arms, which unfortunately draws my attention to the v-neck cut of her pj top, the mint green fabric bunched up in the center by a string that seems to tighten it.

“Oh, so it’s Lucky now? I’ve been here a week, and I’ve managed to drum up a country girl nickname.”

I cock a brow. “Pardon?”

“It’s such a thing around here. Everyone has a little nickname that everyone uses instead of a person’s given name. I assumed it must be a country thing.”

I can’t help the laugh or the shiver that reminds me I’m still standing in front of Clover, basically naked, with a thin towel as the only thing keeping her from gawking at me again.

The only thing concealing the rapidly growing erection that I really thought I’d dealt with.

“You’re not wrong. Folks like ‘em round here. It’s a token of appreciation if you’ve earned one.”

“Oh,” Clover raises her brows, “so you’re showing your appreciation?”

“It was a stroke of luck on both our parts to have you wind up in Red Lodge, and…your name is Clover. So.”

“So.” She nods. “Well, I’m heading to bed then. I’ll see you in the morning…Ace.”

She turns before I can ask where she heard that one, but I have to assume it was Rosie. Still, I’m smiling as I watch her go upstairs, and I can’t for the life of me remember why I came down here in the first place.

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