Page 42 of Nanny for the Cowboy

The tension in my spine rachets up, that tingly feeling in my nerves singing. I chase my release, adding another finger, then focusing on my clit.

I’m close,soclose, and all I’m thinking about is how much I want this to be Brooks, even though I know that’s impossible.

So, I’ll enjoy this. My private little fantasy that’s only for me as I lay alone in the bed. No one has to know, after all. This is just for me—a release that won’t precipitate action.

“Oh, God…Brooks…” I’m right there, just a little longer, and I’ll?—

Knock, knock, knock.

I jump up in bed, yanking my hand back enough to wack the lamp on my nightstand, making my knuckles sting.

What the hell? Why? Who’s?—

“Clover? It’s Brooks.” His voice is a whisper but loud enough that if I was awake—which I am—I’d hear him. “Are you up?”

The pounding fury of my heartbeat actuallyhurts, and I suck in so many fucking breaths before I’m able to answer, clearing my throat as I do.

“Umm, yeah, h-hold on.”

Scrambling to the bathroom, I wash off my hands, then hurry back to the bed and throw the blanket over myself. The door is unlocked, a fucking mistake I didn’t mean to make earlier, but I think I’m about as composed as I’m going to get right now.

“Come in.”

Brooks pushes the door open, and I notice right away that he sort of lets it fall into the room and doesn’t step past the threshold. He seems off somehow, and I narrow my eyes as he stands there without saying a word for a minute.

“Did you…need something?” I raise my brows, clutching the blanket and being all too aware of the fact that I’m still not wearing underwear beneath these shorts.

“Umm…” Brooks scans over the room with his deep hazel eyes, and I follow them, wondering what even brought him here when we’re all supposed to be sleeping. “…I just wanted to say that umm…”

This is the most tongue-tied I’ve seen Brooks, and it makes me itchy. I don’t like it. It’s weird, as if he knows something or sees something, and it’s preventing him from saying what’s actually on his mind.

“What?” I shake my head forward, leaning up off my pillow as I sit criss-cross, my legs folded beneath the covers.

“You did good today, Lucky.” He smiles, the awkward air around him finally breaking. “I was really impressed.”

“Oh.” Surprise hits me, and I perk up, grinning as I relax a hair. “Well, thank you. I really didn’t want to do that, but I guess I’m glad you convinced me.”

“Oh, so now you’re realizing that you should listen to me? Think that’ll apply to how you do your chores? Or am I still going to be picking up eggshells because you stack ‘em too high?”

Glaring playfully, I narrow my eyes at Brooks. I pull my knees up to my chest, forgetting about the blanket in favor of shielding myself with my legs out of habit.

“I do not. Jerk. The egg thing was because chickens are assholes.”

Brooks laughs with a burst of energy as he leans against the door jam with his arms crossed. “Well, you’re not wrong about that.”

He stands there, and I look at his cast for a minute. It only goes up to his elbow, and I notice that the bicep it’s not covering still seems as strong as the other one.

Brooks hasn’t been taking it easy like he’s supposed to.Stubborn rancher.

“You know, you haven’t been listening to the doctor. You already lost the bet with my dad. Do you really want to be in that cast for another week?”

With a low chuckle, Brooks straightens up. I’m not sure what he’s doing when he reaches up to the top of the door frame with both hands. Gripping the ledge, he leans into it, and his t-shirt lifts slightly.

I can see the dark dusting of hair at the top of his pajama pants, and I force myself to swallow.

“Worried about me, Lucky?” He holds my stare—all fire and challenge—so I shake my head. “’Cuz I’m just fine.”

“No.” I sound so dumb, like some teenager saying shedoesn’thave a crush on a cute boy. “I am not worried about some obstinate farmer who refuses to listen to a professional.”

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