her cheek. “Just not as much as I want you. I can wait.”
She moaned and fell back against the straw. “I’m going to be up all night because you’re being so damn noble,” she muttered.
He grinned at the evident frustration in her voice. “Join the club. How about we do dinner instead? Maybe a nice bottle of wine or a couple of beers will settle us both down.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Who’s cooking?”
“I will.”
“You cook?”
“I can, if you’re not too particular about what you eat. How does a western omelette sound?”
“Heavenly,” she said at once.
He lifted himself up and went in search of her blouse and bra before he could act on the wicked ideas still raging through him. “Sorry about the blouse,” he said when he handed it to her. “I’ll buy you a replacement.”
“You will,” she agreed, then grinned. “Something with snaps.”
Wade laughed. “Good idea.” He held out a hand and helped her up. “Now scoot, before these noble intentions of mine lose out to my hormones.”
“Your place in a half hour?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he agreed.
Okay, maybe not so perfect, he thought as he headed home. How the hell was he supposed to keep his hands to himself all evening long, now that he knew exactly how Lauren felt beneath his touch?
Chapter Seven
L auren spent ten of the precious thirty minutes Wade had granted her down in the barn trying to make herself presentable in case she ran into Grady or Karen up at the house. She didn’t want either of them to take one look at her and conclude that she and Wade had been rolling around in the hay. Which, of course, they had been. Unfortunately—from her perspective—they had stopped short of making love.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t unfortunate. Wade had seen what she hadn’t been willing to admit. She wasn’t ready to make the kind of commitment that would go along with that kind of intimacy. More important, she wasn’t sure Wade was ready for any kind of commitment at all.
If she were a different person, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. They could have spent a few wonderfully wicked hours in each other’s arms, then goneright along as if nothing momentous had happened. Sadly, though, Lauren had learned that she was really lousy at casual sex. Come to think of it, she wasn’t much better with committed relationships, either, she reminded herself. She had two divorces to attest to that.
Of course, maybe the reason she’d jumped into those marriages had been the belief that commitment and sex went hand in hand, an anti-free-love morality, as it were. Maybe this time she should try to separate the two and not assume that just because she and Wade had all this delicious chemistry between them, they were suited to making a lifetime commitment.
“Well, hell,” she muttered as she tried to make sense of it and couldn’t.
She tied the ends of her blouse together in a knot that would at least give the illusion it was meant to be worn without buttons. As long as she didn’t make any sudden movements or quick turns, it should get her past any inquisitive gazes.
En route to the house, Lauren went back over her quandary. If she wasn’t any good at casual sex and was no better at marriage, what was left? She had a feeling she’d better figure that out in a hurry, since the heat between her and Wade wasn’t something she could ignore forever. They were going to land in bed together. The only question left was on what terms? It was one thing to have a relationship end messily in Hollywood, quite another to stir up talk in Winding River.
As she neared the house, she could hear Grady and Karen in the kitchen, so she slipped around to the front door and fled up the steps. Once she’d washed her face, put on a light dusting of fresh makeup and brushed her hair, she felt marginally better. Clean clothes accomplished the rest. By the time she went downstairs, shewas prepared to make a quick dash right back out the front door.
She’d
She moaned and fell back against the straw. “I’m going to be up all night because you’re being so damn noble,” she muttered.
He grinned at the evident frustration in her voice. “Join the club. How about we do dinner instead? Maybe a nice bottle of wine or a couple of beers will settle us both down.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Who’s cooking?”
“I will.”
“You cook?”
“I can, if you’re not too particular about what you eat. How does a western omelette sound?”
“Heavenly,” she said at once.
He lifted himself up and went in search of her blouse and bra before he could act on the wicked ideas still raging through him. “Sorry about the blouse,” he said when he handed it to her. “I’ll buy you a replacement.”
“You will,” she agreed, then grinned. “Something with snaps.”
Wade laughed. “Good idea.” He held out a hand and helped her up. “Now scoot, before these noble intentions of mine lose out to my hormones.”
“Your place in a half hour?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he agreed.
Okay, maybe not so perfect, he thought as he headed home. How the hell was he supposed to keep his hands to himself all evening long, now that he knew exactly how Lauren felt beneath his touch?
Chapter Seven
L auren spent ten of the precious thirty minutes Wade had granted her down in the barn trying to make herself presentable in case she ran into Grady or Karen up at the house. She didn’t want either of them to take one look at her and conclude that she and Wade had been rolling around in the hay. Which, of course, they had been. Unfortunately—from her perspective—they had stopped short of making love.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t unfortunate. Wade had seen what she hadn’t been willing to admit. She wasn’t ready to make the kind of commitment that would go along with that kind of intimacy. More important, she wasn’t sure Wade was ready for any kind of commitment at all.
If she were a different person, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. They could have spent a few wonderfully wicked hours in each other’s arms, then goneright along as if nothing momentous had happened. Sadly, though, Lauren had learned that she was really lousy at casual sex. Come to think of it, she wasn’t much better with committed relationships, either, she reminded herself. She had two divorces to attest to that.
Of course, maybe the reason she’d jumped into those marriages had been the belief that commitment and sex went hand in hand, an anti-free-love morality, as it were. Maybe this time she should try to separate the two and not assume that just because she and Wade had all this delicious chemistry between them, they were suited to making a lifetime commitment.
“Well, hell,” she muttered as she tried to make sense of it and couldn’t.
She tied the ends of her blouse together in a knot that would at least give the illusion it was meant to be worn without buttons. As long as she didn’t make any sudden movements or quick turns, it should get her past any inquisitive gazes.
En route to the house, Lauren went back over her quandary. If she wasn’t any good at casual sex and was no better at marriage, what was left? She had a feeling she’d better figure that out in a hurry, since the heat between her and Wade wasn’t something she could ignore forever. They were going to land in bed together. The only question left was on what terms? It was one thing to have a relationship end messily in Hollywood, quite another to stir up talk in Winding River.
As she neared the house, she could hear Grady and Karen in the kitchen, so she slipped around to the front door and fled up the steps. Once she’d washed her face, put on a light dusting of fresh makeup and brushed her hair, she felt marginally better. Clean clothes accomplished the rest. By the time she went downstairs, shewas prepared to make a quick dash right back out the front door.
She’d
Similar Books
