closed doors before she was in the living room. There he was. Warmth flowed through her when she saw Bran sprawled on the couch, his forearm across his eyes, the stubble of his beard darkening the angular lines of his face.
Although he was mostly covered, the lower part of his leg peeked out from beneath the fleece blanket. His sweatpants had slid up to his knee, revealing the dark hair on his leg and the muscled flesh of his calf. The muscles gave way to the stoutness of his ankle and the smooth white skin covering the top of his bare foot.
She’d never seen cowboy Bran without boots, or at least socks, on his feet. Seeing that vulnerable part of him—well, she wouldn’t have felt more like a Peeping Tom if she’d gotten a glimpse inside his boxers.
Don’t stare at his crotch.
She purposely scrutinized his foot, from his heel to the tip of his big toe. Mighty long. Hmm. She wondered if foot size really was an indication of the size of his . . .
“If you’re done gawking at me, I’ll get up and make us a pot of coffee,” he said gruffly.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Were you planning on takin’ off without saying good-bye again?”
That was the first time he’d mentioned her sneaking out. She honestly thought he hadn’t noticed. Or cared. “No. I just . . .”
Bran moved his arm and she was staring into his eyes. Oh. Not fair. Why were his eyes more blue than gray this morning? A bottomless blue like the wide Wyoming sky? She could totally lose herself in his eyes.
“Harper. You just . . . what?”
Her cheeks flamed as she realized she’d been gazing at him like he personally hung the moon and the stars solely for her. “What? Oh, right, I’m, ah, still pretty confused. I just don’t remember anything from last night.”
A dark brow winged up. “Nothin’?”
She blushed harder, if that were possible. “I remember you opening the door. That’s it.”
He shifted until his feet hit the floor. “Not much to tell. I helped you get your outerwear off. As I was takin’ mine off, you disappeared. I found you in my bedroom stripped down to your very sexy underthings and passed out on my bed.” Bran locked his gaze to hers. “I threw a blanket over you. Then I came out here and crashed on the couch.”
Such a gentleman.
Such a pity.
Get a grip. “I’m sorry if I was a problem.”
Bran grinned the wicked cowboy grin that fired every feminine molecule she had. “The only problem I had was walking away when I had a gorgeous half-nekkid woman in my bed.”
How was she supposed to respond to that?
Don’t. Ignore it.
Brightly, with a totally fake smile, Harper said, “I’ll make coffee.”
Was it her imagination, or was Bran . . . chuckling?
The coffee supplies were still on the counter from yesterday—had it really been only one day?—so she didn’t have to dig through his cupboards. She sat at the dinette table, surprised that Bran hadn’t changed out of his jammies.
Right. Like big, bad, tough cowboys called them jammies .
Silence. Complete silence beyond the gurgling noises of the coffeemaker. She couldn’t think of a blasted thing to say.
“Harper? Are you okay?”
“No. I feel like such an idiot. Not remembering what happened last night, not only after we got back here, but before that. Everything is blank after we pulled that last calf. I’m sure you’re used to hired hands who are tougher, able to go days without sleep. I just hit a wall.”
“Part of calving is bein’ completely exhausted, and that’s why I needed help. I can’t do it on my own. To be honest? I don’t remember a whole helluva lot from last week. It’s a blur. I’m fairly sure I didn’t do nothin’ stupid and endanger the cattle by falling asleep at the wheel and running them over.”
Harper smiled. It was really sweet of him, trying to make her feel better.
“We’re in the midst of the worst of it. About two and a half weeks from now, we’ll be back to regular ranch
Although he was mostly covered, the lower part of his leg peeked out from beneath the fleece blanket. His sweatpants had slid up to his knee, revealing the dark hair on his leg and the muscled flesh of his calf. The muscles gave way to the stoutness of his ankle and the smooth white skin covering the top of his bare foot.
She’d never seen cowboy Bran without boots, or at least socks, on his feet. Seeing that vulnerable part of him—well, she wouldn’t have felt more like a Peeping Tom if she’d gotten a glimpse inside his boxers.
Don’t stare at his crotch.
She purposely scrutinized his foot, from his heel to the tip of his big toe. Mighty long. Hmm. She wondered if foot size really was an indication of the size of his . . .
“If you’re done gawking at me, I’ll get up and make us a pot of coffee,” he said gruffly.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Were you planning on takin’ off without saying good-bye again?”
That was the first time he’d mentioned her sneaking out. She honestly thought he hadn’t noticed. Or cared. “No. I just . . .”
Bran moved his arm and she was staring into his eyes. Oh. Not fair. Why were his eyes more blue than gray this morning? A bottomless blue like the wide Wyoming sky? She could totally lose herself in his eyes.
“Harper. You just . . . what?”
Her cheeks flamed as she realized she’d been gazing at him like he personally hung the moon and the stars solely for her. “What? Oh, right, I’m, ah, still pretty confused. I just don’t remember anything from last night.”
A dark brow winged up. “Nothin’?”
She blushed harder, if that were possible. “I remember you opening the door. That’s it.”
He shifted until his feet hit the floor. “Not much to tell. I helped you get your outerwear off. As I was takin’ mine off, you disappeared. I found you in my bedroom stripped down to your very sexy underthings and passed out on my bed.” Bran locked his gaze to hers. “I threw a blanket over you. Then I came out here and crashed on the couch.”
Such a gentleman.
Such a pity.
Get a grip. “I’m sorry if I was a problem.”
Bran grinned the wicked cowboy grin that fired every feminine molecule she had. “The only problem I had was walking away when I had a gorgeous half-nekkid woman in my bed.”
How was she supposed to respond to that?
Don’t. Ignore it.
Brightly, with a totally fake smile, Harper said, “I’ll make coffee.”
Was it her imagination, or was Bran . . . chuckling?
The coffee supplies were still on the counter from yesterday—had it really been only one day?—so she didn’t have to dig through his cupboards. She sat at the dinette table, surprised that Bran hadn’t changed out of his jammies.
Right. Like big, bad, tough cowboys called them jammies .
Silence. Complete silence beyond the gurgling noises of the coffeemaker. She couldn’t think of a blasted thing to say.
“Harper? Are you okay?”
“No. I feel like such an idiot. Not remembering what happened last night, not only after we got back here, but before that. Everything is blank after we pulled that last calf. I’m sure you’re used to hired hands who are tougher, able to go days without sleep. I just hit a wall.”
“Part of calving is bein’ completely exhausted, and that’s why I needed help. I can’t do it on my own. To be honest? I don’t remember a whole helluva lot from last week. It’s a blur. I’m fairly sure I didn’t do nothin’ stupid and endanger the cattle by falling asleep at the wheel and running them over.”
Harper smiled. It was really sweet of him, trying to make her feel better.
“We’re in the midst of the worst of it. About two and a half weeks from now, we’ll be back to regular ranch
Similar Books
