Page 11 of A Rancher's Love
He gestured to the bedroom. “You need sleep. You’re less coherent than usual.”
Ginny paused. “I thought you didn’t want to get caught in the same bed.”
“We won’t. You’ll take the bed, and I’ll sleep out here.”
“Bullshit.” Ginny rose, reaching for her coat. “I’ll go find a different trailer to sleep in.”
“Bullshit,” he echoed back. “This one is all warmed up, which took half of forever, by the way. It’s damn cold out there, and it’s a waste of time. You get the bed, I’m out here. Then it’s all good when someone sneaks around in the morning to surprise you.”
Ginny pooh-poohed that idea. “They’ll be too busy staring at the Christmas tree and stuffing their faces with Tamara’s cinnamon buns to wonder where I am.”
She tried to stifle another yawn.
Exasperated, and closing in on his own limits, Tucker caught her by the shoulders and marched her back into the bedroom. “Sleep. There will be plenty of time to torment me in the coming days.”
“You should have the bed,” she said, but when he glared at her, she tossed aside her sweater and crawled onto the mattress.
Tucker watched her ass. There was no earthly way to resist.
Her head hit the pillow and she tugged ineffectively at the covers. He gave up and helped, tucking her in. Avoiding accidental contact with any hotspots—he was up for fucking sainthood after this.
Ginny’s eyes opened to half-mast as she licked her lips. “You’re sweet. You know, you like to act all gruff and stern, but really, you’re a total pushover.”
“Shut up,” he said with a laugh, kneeling on the bed beside her so he could lean close and press a kiss to her forehead. “No spilling secrets, remember?”
“Okay.” She watched him with those big eyes. “Tucker?”
“Yeah?” He wouldn’t bother to make a bed. Just crash on the floor.
“While you’re here, can we have sex?”
He swore softly, instantly aroused.
A laugh drifted upward as she stretched lazily, breasts pressing the blanket into dangerous curves. “I won’t tell. That will also stay our little secret.”
“Go to sleep, you evil woman.”
“That wasn’t a no,” she pointed out, the words fading on a soft exhale.
Tucker firmly closed the door between them. He tossed the quilt on the floor and collapsed onto it. Between the drive and the demon woman sound asleep less than ten feet from him, he was more than exhausted.
He was also done for, because she was right. He hadn’t told her no. In fact, the first chance he got, every wicked thing they could dream up was totally on the menu.
Keeping secrets might eventually kick his ass, but he would walk through hell for another taste of Ginny Stone.
On the edgeof waking up, Ginny snuggled deeper into the cozy warmth around her when the trailer door opened. The faint metallic screech of hinges protesting the cold loud enough to carry through the thin panel door of the bedroom.
Her brother Luke’s voice rang out a moment later. “Tucker? What the hell are you doing on the floor? Is something wrong with the bed?”
A low groan rose from Tucker. “Close the door. You’re letting out all the heat.”
“You must have been wrecked last night.” Luke chuckled softly. “You forget what a bed looks like?”
Ginny hurriedly crawled off the mattress and made her way to the door. She swung it open before Tucker could answer.
Luke’s gaze shot to her, his eyes widening for a second before he slammed a hand in front of his face as if blocking a dangerous sight. “Dammit, Ginny, you’re indecent. Put some clothes on before I go blind.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Grow up. I’m more than adequately covered. Besides, they’re just boobs.”
