Page 35 of Nanny for the Cowboy

Right now, the green and black flannel shirt she has on is rolled up to the elbows and unbuttoned to reveal the black tank beneath it. I can see the swell of her breasts pressed against the fabric, and when I yank my eyes away, they just land on her full lips.

“Clover, I…”

But the words drop away, and we just stare at each other. The air is simmering with something potent and terrifying. This can’t be happening between us.

And still, I step closer, unable to keep myself back. Clover doesn’t retreat; she just tilts her head to keep holding my eyes with hers.

That fragrance of floral perfume clings to her space, and my body is humming with heat and electricity.

This is a bad idea, Brooks. Back up. Back up. Back up.

Clover’s eyes flick down and then back up, and she looks at me from beneath her lashes, her stare lidded and intense.

I want to touch her. I want to slip my arms around her waist and haul her close to me. My hand begins to move forward on its own again.

There’s a curl in front of Clover’s eye, and I tuck it behind her ear, my fingers lingering, unwilling to leave her. I look at her lips again, and I can feel her doing the same.

Everything I’ve been reminding myself of, to stay away from her, that she’s nearly half my age and this is inappropriate, all drops away. All I see is this remarkable woman who’s very being calls to me like a siren.

Leaning closer, Clover mimics the action, and we’re right there—right up against each other. My heartbeat in my ears is nearly deafening, and then I’m hovering my lips over hers, almost tasting that coconut chapstick she’s always using.

“Dad!”

Flying back, I turn around on my heel to see Darby rushing toward the shed from the house.

“Dad!”

I have to clear my throat to clear my head. As my son rushes forward, fire burns beneath my skin, the fear over what he just saw simmering like acid.

But he’s crying, and I drop to my knee and open my arms so Darby can run into them. “Hey, hey. Calm down. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

“Darby, are you alright?” I hear Clover whisper, her tone soft.

“I...I…I had a bad dream.” My son can hardly speak around the hiccuping sobs, and I pull him close.

Wrapping my arms around him, I pick him up, carrying him back toward the house. I hear Clover follow behind us, and I…I can’t think about that.

“It’s okay, buddy. It was just a dream.” Rubbing down the back of his head, I try to soothe the obvious fear making Darby shake. “You’re safe, okay? You’re safe with Dad. I’ve got you.”

It’s a quiet trip back to Darby’s room, and as I set him down, he clings to me, not wanting to let go. I smile sympathetically, smoothing my hand down his head as he lays in his small bed.

He hasn’t had a nightmare this bad in some time, and the last one kept him up all night. I’m not sure what to do now that’ll make it any better. I’ve got no new tricks up my sleeve.

“Do you want me to sing you a song?” Clover steps up to the side of his bed, holding Darby’s hand.

Darby’s face lights up, the relief washing over him so profoundly that it makes my eyes sting. He smiles and nods.

“Yes, please.”

Clover grins down at him, and I watch as she strokes his hand while she sings a soft lullaby. I can’t place the song at first, and then I remember where it’s from, that Disney tune she talked about before.

It soothes Darby almost instantly, and his lids begin to droop as sleep glides over him again. Clover finishes the song, and I watch to be sure Darby stays asleep. He does.

“Thank you,” I whisper, unable to hold Clover’s stare for long.

“Of course.” She nods back at me, and then we part ways, each of us heading to our own bedrooms.

My hand fumbles with the door as I close it, and I walk over to my bed on shaky legs. I’m not sure what just happened between us, and I’m not sure if Darby’s interruption was a good or a bad thing.

---