Page 38 of Ocotillo Kisses
Shewrapped her arms around his shoulders immediately, bringing her chilled body up against his, the shape of her burning into his skin through his wet shirt. Her fingers combed into his short hair, her lips parted beneath his, as if she had been thinking about this just as much as he had.
She slid her hands up his arms, beneath the tight sleeves of his t-shirt, then down his slick skin, up again to his shoulders. He lowered his other hand to the small of her back and brought her to him, every cell in his body recognizing her, remembering her.
A noise behind him busted through the noise of the storm on the other side of the door, and he lifted his head, turning to see his foreman and several of the hands watching.
A different heat washed over him, and Con used every ounce of willpower to take a step back from Britt. He saw momentary confusion in her eyes, but when she saw their audience, she reddened.
He slid one hand down her arm, unable to stop touching her just yet. “Let’s get you up to the house and into some dry clothes,” he said. Ordinarily he would take care of his horse first, but enough people were around that he could leave that task to one of them while he took care of Britt.
“What about Dove?” she asked.
He turned to his foreman, Richard. “Did one of the Drexler horses end up here?”
“No, not that I’ve seen. You want me to send someone to look out for it?”
Con considered. “Call over to their barn, see if Lonesome Dove showed back up. Call me up at the house once you know. I don’t want to send anyone out in this.”
Richard nodded. “You want to take my truck up to the house?”
The distance between the house and the barn was significant, but Con didn’t want to leave Richard without his truck. He looked down at Britt. But maybe she didn’t want to be out in the storm any longer than she had to be.
“We can’t get any wetter,” she said with a shrug.
“That’s true.” He looked from Britt to Richard, then back again. “Whenever you’re ready.”
His temptation was to hold her hand as they ran up to the house, after that kiss, but he also wanted her to be able to catch herself if she slipped in the mud. He followed along behind her at a trot, because, well, it wasn’t easy to run in wet boots, for either of them, and the water was already flowing down the path from the house. He put his hand at the small of Britt’s back as she tried to mount the steps to the porch with her muddy boots, finally reaching shelter.
She turned to him breathing heavily, pushing her hair from her face. “I don’t remember that hill being that hard to climb.”
“We’re not usually getting a face full of rain and slogging through mud.”
“I guess that’s true.” She stopped at the door. “Your mama is going to kick our butts if we track mud and water all through her house.”
“I’ll clean it up.” He reached around her to open the door to the house, and almost instantly, his mother rushed toward them.
“You’re back! I was getting so worried, especially when the dogs came back without you! Oh my goodness, you’re soaked! Britt, your teeth are chattering! Go on up to take a shower. Con will bring you something to wear. I mean, obviously you can’t fit in anything of mine, but maybe he has something you can wear. He can bring it up to you, when he gets dried off. Go on, honey. I’m just so glad to see you safe. I was so worried when the storm came in and you were still out.”
Con saw the real fear in his mother’s eyes and he crossed the room to grip her arm. “We’re okay. A little worried about Britt’s horse, though. She took off when the storm came up. You said the dogs were back?”
“Yes, they’re in the kitchen. I dried them off the best I could, but they are a mess. I was about to call Richard to go look for y’all.” She hugged Con, then Britt. “I didn’t even know it was supposed to rain today.”
“We didn’t mean to scare you, Mom. We’re okay.” He turned to Britt, who was shivering. “Go on up. I’ll take you some clothes up.”
She looked him up and down. “I don’t know if you have anything that would fit.”
“Pajama pants, maybe.”
She nodded, then reached down to pull off her boots. But pulling wet leather off of wet socks when standing up was hard.
“Sit down,” he said, crouching at her feet. “I’ll get them.”
“I don’t want to get the chair wet.”
He pulled a jacket from the hook by the door, and set it on the wooden bench so she could sit, then he crouched at her feet, taking the heel of one boot in his hand and tugging. She had to brace her hands against his shoulders as he tugged one, then the other, setting them aside, then stripping off her socks.
“Oh, you don’t have to—” She pressed her hands against his shoulders, pushing him away.
He stroked his fingertips down the top of her foot, making her jump and jerk her foot away.
