Page 38 of Lone Star Country Protector
“I put a robe out for you to use,” he said. “And an oversize T-shirt.”
She liked the sounds of those things. After thanking him, she headed into his bedroom. It looked similar to the other rooms, unfinished. The bed was big and had comfortable-looking blankets and pillows. She tested it as she walked past. This was going to be like sleeping on a cloud.
A pink robe that was her size hung on the door to the bathroom. A sting of jealousy caught her off guard. She’d been clear there was no future for the two of them. Dalton was honest and respectable. He was honorable, which seemed in rare supply with people these days. All she had to do was take one look at her brother-in-law.
That wasn’t completely fair. She didn’t know the real ins and outs of her sister’s marriage. Greg, no matter how off heseemed or how desperate he looked, was a decent person. He was clearly torn up about the affair he’d been having. He seemed…she didn’t know the right word…maybe lost?
Seeing him at the hospital had been a wake-up call too. Bethany had been keeping secrets. She hadn’t been confiding in Blakely. Guilt nearly consumed her at letting her younger sister down. If Blakely had known about the problems, she would have been able to help. It was possible the situation wouldn’t have gone this far.
A shower helped wash the day away. Reluctantly, she wrapped herself in the pink robe after drying off. A toothbrush still in its wrapper waited on the counter. She brushed and then set her clothes outside the bedroom door for them to be washed.
When she opened the door, she heard the low hum of Dalton’s voice. It reverberated through her, lighting all kinds of fires that didn’t need to be lit. Was he talking to the owner of this pink robe? As much as she knew in her heart he wouldn’t betray another woman by kissing her, they hadn’t exactly talked about whether or not he was seeing someone.
Was it her business?
No.
Did a growing part of herwantit to be her business?
Yes.
So, what did she plan to do about it?
Chapter Fourteen
Dalton wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried. The update from his sister, Jules, had his stomach burning and his mind churning. His grandfather woke up for five minutes. Unfortunately, Jules had been outside grabbing a little sunshine to rejuvenate after what had been a long night of sleeping in fits and starts.
Essentially, when their grandparents needed someone to be in the room, no one had been there. He didn’t blame Jules. She was one person and doing a helluva fine job being “on” nearly twenty-four hours a day. She needed support. Maybe it was a mistake to have only one person on duty. The job might be too much for one individual to cope with. And yet, he couldn’t leave Blakely right now either. Did that make him the worst human in the world?
For someone who claimed to always put family first, how many holidays had he been home for in recent years? Not many. In fact, he volunteered to work so others could be home with their kiddos. Murderers didn’t take holidays off. In fact, they had a habit of striking when opportunity presented itself.
A cold chill raced down his back at the thought of Johnny Spear getting to Blakely.
Dalton shook off the thought as best as he could, took a shower in the hall bath and then routed for clean clothes inthe laundry basket. He threw on a pair of boxers and cotton workout shorts, grabbed a blanket after washing her clothes, and then rested his eyes while lying down on the sofa.
He rarely needed more than a cat nap when he was on a protection assignment, so he got up before the sun and finished the small load of laundry. The least he could do was give her clean clothes to wake up to. Handling her pink silk panties had sent blood flowing south, but he was no longer a hormonal teenager. He was a grown man, who was capable of doing laundry without needing a cold shower afterward.
Remembering how silky Blakely’s skin had felt under his touch was another story. It created a visceral memory that was more difficult to tamp down.
Dalton almost laughed out loud. Grown man, huh?
A fresh cup of coffee helped wake him up. He was still full from last night, so he grabbed his phone and checked to see if a message had come through on the group chat. When he’d talked to Jules last night, she’d sounded hopeful there was a chance their grandfather would wake up again.
Of course, they’d been going down this road long enough for him to be educated on the fact someone in a coma could wake up, seem totally fine and then go right back under, never to wake again.
Too many weeks had passed for Dalton to expect this situation to end well. Duke, his cousin, mentioned that they might want to think about what they wanted to do with the ranch if their grandparents didn’t make a meaningful recovery.
Dalton just wasn’t there yet. He couldn’t see a world where his strong-as-an-ox grandfather wasn’t at the helm of Remington Paint Ranch.
This wasn’t the time to think about comfort food, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting a chicken-friedsteak from Mama Bea’s place in Mesa Point. Every time he thought about the ranch, Mama Bea came up. Her food was the definition of heaven. A little voice in the back of his mind picked that moment to point out that he’d found heaven in everything when he was with Blakely.
He reminded himself how fast she’d bolted before and how little use there was in thinking there was even a remote possibility she would let him in her life, no matter how much electricity charged the air in between them every time they were within arm’s reach of one another. Or how much his mouth ached to claim hers, marking her as his, when their gazes met. Or how sexy she was in a jogging suit. Of course, she was even sexier with nothing on.
“Good morning,” she said after clearing her throat. He hadn’t heard her open the bedroom door. She caught him off guard, especially considering he’d just pictured her naked. She held out the pink robe, which was folded up. “This belongs to you. Or should I say your girlfriend?”
“No girlfriend,” he said quickly and with a little heat as he met her across the room. “Is that how little you think of me?”
“I wasn’t sure what to think when you left out a pink ladies’ bathrobe for me, Dalton.”
