Page 24 of Waiting for the Rancher
Maverick was kissing her—or at least kissing her head. And holding her tight.
And she still had her hand up his shirt.
She closed her eyes and fought against all the strange desires that were rolling through her. She wanted him to kiss her again. Even if just on her head. She wanted to stay in his arms. She wanted to lie next to him. She wanted the freedom to touch his beautiful body.
But those were the kinds of privileges reserved for a man and wife. And Maverick couldn’t even see her as a woman half the time, much less think about her as a potential wife.
She had to put an end to the closeness.
Even if she woke him up, she had to get up and go to the bed in the loft.
Taking a breath of resolve, she slipped her hand out from underneath his shirt and then started to push herself up.
She made it only halfway when both of his arms came around her, and he pulled her down on top of him, this time fully.
9
Hazel was on top of him.
Wakefulness hit Maverick, pulling him out of the half-conscious state he’d been in while resting with her on the sofa after she’d fallen asleep. To make her more comfortable, he’d reclined and situated her at his side with her head on his chest.
He’d only planned to close his eyes for a short while—hadn’t intended to fall asleep. In fact, he’d debated on whether he oughta get up and carry her to the loft. But it’d been so nice having her right there by his side that, truth be told, he’d been selfish and stayed because he wasn’t ready to be away from her.
Now, somehow she’d shifted positions, and every single perfect inch of her perfect body was pressing into his. He could get used to waking up to this every day.
His lips curved up into a grin. “Hey there.”
Her face hovered above him, her nose brushing his. “Maverick,” she hissed his name. “You can’t hold me like this. It isn’t decent.”
He became conscious of his arms surrounding her, his hands on her back—one awfully low but thankfully not low enough that he’d deserve a good walloping for crossing a line.
She was right. Having her on top of him wasn’t decent either. As much as he liked holding her, he had no right to hug her or even rest with her on the sofa. He shouldn’t have lain down with her, should have guessed he wouldn’t have the willpower to resist her—not with the way his thoughts had been circling back to her every chance they had.
All last night after the foaling, his mind had been filled with her face as she’d watched the birthing with amazement, joy, and confidence. All day as he’d herded the cattle with his men, he’d thought of little else except for her, hoping she wasn’t working too hard but knowing she was.
“Maverick, wake up.” She wasn’t making an effort to get off him, wasn’t wiggling or pushing or even trying to roll away. Maybe she liked being close to him too.
“I’m awake, angel.” He’d decided on calling herangel. It seemed to fit her, and he liked it a whole lot better thandarlin’.
“I should get to bed.” Her whisper wasn’t all that demanding. Was there even reluctance in her voice? “Before you soil my reputation.”
“Since I’m soiling your reputation, I reckon we oughta just get married. What do you think?” His tone was laced with teasing, but as soon as the question was out, all humor left him. What was he saying? He wasn’t really suggesting marriage, was he?
Or what if he was?
The question must have startled her too, because she grew silent and still. She lay on him only a moment longer before pushing up.
Even though he didn’t want to release her, he let his arms fall away.
She climbed up until she was standing beside the sofa.
He didn’t move from his spot. Instead, he crossed one arm behind his head and watched her as she fidgeted first to straighten her blouse and then her skirt—both of which she’d borrowed from Clementine or Clarabelle.
What was she thinking? How did she feel about him? About them? Maybe he didn’t have any right to ask her, but he sure wanted to.
She hesitated a moment, then turned to go.
Before she could take a step away, he reached out and caught her hand. He didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what he wanted from her or even from himself. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her walk away yet.
