His back was still toward her.
He had a small scar over his right shoulder blade. Sheâd kissed her way over it dozens of times but had never asked what had caused it.
Why hadnât she asked?
Because she wasnât interested?
Or because she was afraid he wouldnât have told her?
She slowly propped the broom handle against the wall and walked over to him. Her hand wasnât entirely steady when she placed it on his shoulder, but it was a lot steadier than her insides felt.
He stiffened at her touch and looked at her.
She didnât know what was tormenting him.
And maybe comfort wasnât their thing.
But she did know what was.
She leaned forward and slowly pressed her lips against his. She felt him inhale slightly. Resistance, almost.
But not quite.
***
Return to the Double C:
Under the big blue Wyoming sky, this family discovers true love
Chapter One
âIâve decided to get pregnant.â As far as sweet nothings went, Jane Cohenâs statement didnât rank very high on the scale.
Casey Nathaniel Clay had to have heard her wrong. Maybe his head was still reeling from the truly phenomenal sex. Outside of the bedroom, he and Janie couldnât seem to agree on the time of day. Inside the bedroom, though, they were like two halves of a whole.
But in the year since their relationshipâfor lack of a better wordâhad moved into the bedroom, not once had either one of them expressed an inclination to take things into the âseriousâ realm.
He levered himself up on his elbow and peered down at her.
Her long golden hair was tangled around her head, strands clinging to her cheeks and neck, sliding in loose curls down her chest, over her breasts that were still rising and falling as she caught her breath from not one butâhell, yeah, if he didnât mind counting âemâtwo orgasms.
He dragged his stupidly reluctant gaze upward to meet her coffee-colored eyes. âWhatâs that you say?â
She pressed her lips together. They were the same soft pink as her nipples. âDonât pretend you didnât hear me.â Annoyance rang in her voice as she impatiently pushed her hair from her face. âI was perfectly clear.â
Ordinarily, people tended to consider Casey a relatively intelligent guy. His degrees from MIT supported that opinion. But just then, he didnât seem capable of forming much of a coherent thought, much less a reasonable response.
What the hell are you talking about? was in the forefront of his mind. And he was pretty sure that wasnât what Janie was looking for.
She seemed to know what he was thinking anyway, because her lips tightened even more.
Looking disgusted, she rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulders aside, disentangling her warm legs from his, and slid off the bed. âCool the panic jets, Casey.â Her voice was tart as a bowl of lemon juice with the closest supply of sugar a few counties away. âI wasnât suggesting I wanted to get pregnant by you.â
The words stung more than sheâd ever know.
He eyed her, wondering why heâd thought that getting into bed with the infernal woman was a good idea in the first place. But that was just what happened when a man followed his baser nature. âThen why on earth did you bring it up now?â he groused.
She made that impatient sound that only women seemed to know how to make, the sound meant to convey he was missing something completely obvious to anyone with a half a brain. The sound that pretty much meant he was dumber than a box of rocks. She retrieved her robe from the back of the bedroom door and slid into it, yanking the belt around her narrow waist.
The action only served to draw attention to her breasts.
They were perfect, those breasts. Surprisingly full for someone with such a lean, athletic figure. Her legs were perfect, too. And donât get him started on her buttâ
âBecause if I want to have a baby, all this has to change.â Her toneâsuperior and vaguely snootyâpulled his attention back to her face. She was waving her hand toward the bed. Toward him.
The pink robe was thin. It clung lovingly to her curves as she moved around the room, snatching up their strewn articles of clothing.
Again, he focused with an effort and bunched the blanket around his hips as he sat up. This particular turn of the conversation made sprawling there naked as a jaybird seem ill-advised. âChange,â he repeated warily.