Page 31 of Cowboy’s Last Stand (His to Protect #1)

N atalie spent a busy but mostly uneventful evening at the Night Owl.

Wade dropped by to take a statement from her about the damaged tire. He looked downtrodden and exhausted. When she offered him a beer on the house, he declined. She waitressed tables in a fog, replaying her conversation with Jason.

If I’m going to be your man…

Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.

She had to decide what she wanted. The “ground rules” she’d laid down weren’t working. For one, she couldn’t stick to them. For another, he didn’t need sexy talk or kissing to tempt her. His sincere talk was doing the job just fine.

Did she want him to be her man?

He hadn’t alluded to a permanent arrangement before.

He’d been clear on his desire to bed her, but he hadn’t promised to stay.

Now, he was suggesting something like a real relationship, and she wondered how he could deliver on it.

A man who couldn’t sleep indoors wasn’t the best candidate for a live-in boyfriend.

A no-strings fling was out of the question now; feelings were already involved.

She wiped down the already-gleaming bar as she weighed the pros and cons.

On impulse, she doodled some notes in her receipt book.

The cell phone buzzed in her back pocket, startling her out of her reverie.

She glanced at the caller ID– Jason Reed.

The sight of his name on the screen triggered a faint memory that she couldn’t put her finger on.

Holding a palm over one ear to block out the noise from the jukebox, she answered the call.

“Hello?”

“It’s Jason.”

“What’s up?”

“I think Marcus has the flu.”

“Why?”

“He threw up. Twice.”

She made a sound of alarm.

“I handled it,” he said smoothly. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. I just thought I’d call.”

“I’ll come home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she said, glancing at the clock. She only had an hour left in her shift. Buster would understand.

“OK. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

She scrambled to add up the tabs she hadn’t collected yet.

Then she handed them to Buster and told him she was leaving.

He glanced up from his video gambling with a grunted assent.

Grabbing her purse, she stepped out into the misty night.

The parking lot was mostly empty. She hugged her arms around herself.

Jason arrived in her bug about thirty seconds later. She got in the passenger side. “Where’s Marcus?”

“He’s asleep. I didn’t want to wake him.”

She nodded, tugging on her seat belt. Jason shifted gears like an expert, though standard transmissions were rare these days. He didn’t seem bothered by the night’s turn of events. For a man who had declared himself broken, he was basically unflappable.

Jason offered a wry smile as he pulled into the driveway. “London told me he had a stomachache before he went to bed, but she also said he had hot Cheetos for dinner. I didn’t think anything of it.”

She exited the vehicle with a cringe, imagining the mess inside.

She went straight to Marcus’s room. Her son was sprawled across his bed, covers flung aside.

She knelt and placed her palm on his forehead.

It was slightly warm. He appeared to be sleeping comfortably.

She glanced at Jason in the doorway. “Where did he throw up?”

“The bathroom.”

She brushed by him. An inspection of the bathroom revealed nothing amiss. Not even a pile of dirty towels. “He made it to the toilet?”

“He did not.”

“You cleaned up vomit?”

“I did,” he said sagely.

She gaped at him in wonder.

“I left the laundry in a plastic bag by the washing machine.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Mike had never been there to care for Marcus when he was sick. Absentee parenting was a sacrifice military families made, and she’d accepted it with equanimity—until her husband died. The burden had become so much heavier when she’d known he wouldn’t come home again.

She’d been overwhelmed and alone for so long. Jason’s small act of kindness carried great significance. It meant that she didn’t have to struggle quite so much. It meant that she could put down some of the weight.

The tears wouldn’t stop, though she tried to blink them away. She gave up and collapsed on the couch, her face crumpling. She cried for everything she missed and everything she’d lost. She cried with sorrow and with relief.

When her tears abated, she became aware of his arms around her.

His shirt was damp against her hot cheek.

The collar was torn at the edge. He smelled of motor oil from the garage and citrus soap from her bathroom.

The opposing scents should have created an unpleasant clash, but they didn’t.

She inhaled deeply, her hands splaying over the muscles in his back.

They bunched at her touch, hard and trembling.

Desire welled up inside her, pulsing through her veins.

Her skin tingled everywhere it touched his.

The instant she lifted her head, his mouth was on hers.

He didn’t bother with a tentative brush of lips; they’d done this dance before.

He picked up where they’d left off a few days ago, his tongue plundering her depths.

She twined her arms around his neck, kissing him back with fervor.

Need flashed to the surface as quickly as the tears had come a moment ago.

He tasted like salt and mint and some delicious male spice.

Her breasts plumped against the wall of his chest. She moaned into his mouth and threaded her fingers through his hair.

His hands flexed at her waist, and her body screamed for more.

He gave her what she wanted. More heat, deeper kisses, and closer contact.

He changed the angle of his mouth and maneuvered her into a reclining position.

His hands explored underneath her shirt, spanning her ribcage.

She relished the feel of his callused fingertips on her bare skin and the weight of his hard form on top of her.

Even so, warning bells sounded in her mind.

If she didn’t put the brakes on, they were going to finish this right here in the living room.

He was already fully aroused and raring to go.

Before she could call a halt to the encounter, he dragged his mouth from hers and released the top button of her jeans.

Her zipper came down easily, revealing her stomach and the waistband of her lacy black panties.

She groaned as he put his hand on the cleft of her sex and rubbed through her tight jeans.

Then his open mouth met her quivering belly. He kissed the exposed skin hotly.

It was the most erotic moment of her life, ramped up to an excruciating degree by the sexual energy they’d been generating for days. She knew she should stop him, but she couldn’t think clearly when his hand was there , and his mouth was almost there .

Then her son made an appearance, reminding her of all the reasons not to engage in sex acts on the living room couch.

“Mommy?”

Jason jerked his hand free and scrambled upright.

“Do you have a tummy ache too?”

She rose from the couch, tugging her shirt down. Her son thought Jason was kissing her stomach because it hurt. Jason made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh. Natalie buttoned her jeans and smothered a delirious giggle.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

Jason watched as Natalie led Marcus to his room. Mortification filled her, and her pulse beat a wild rhythm in her throat. Thankfully, her son was too groggy to ask more questions. She tucked him in again and showed him the lined trash can by his bed.

“If you have to throw up again, use this.”

“OK, Mommy.”

“Good night, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She stroked his hair until his breaths came deep and even.

Then she stood, studying him for a long moment.

The interruption, though inopportune, had forced her to remember what was at stake.

She had to start thinking with her brain, not her body.

Straightening her shoulders, she returned to the living room.

Jason hadn’t left. He was still sitting on the couch, perhaps hoping they’d pick up where they left off.

“Sorry,” she said. “This is motherhood, in a nutshell.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“He could be up and down all night, so it’s not the best time for us to…”

“I understand.”

“Thank you for taking care of him.”

Jason shrugged as if it was nothing. He didn’t seem annoyed about being left unsatisfied again. The blatant fury he’d shown earlier this evening toward Billy had calmed into something like quiet contemplation.

Natalie went to the kitchen to wash her hands.

Then she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

After taking a long drink, she offered it to him.

He accepted the peace offering. She watched his smooth brown throat work as he swallowed, and desire tugged between her legs.

She could still feel his mouth on her belly, hot and open.

“We should talk before this goes any further,” she said.

“OK.”

She sat down on the couch next to him. It wasn’t easy to collect her thoughts. “I have concerns about dating you.”

He gave her a wary look. “Why?”

“Well, the fact that you’re working here makes it complicated. You’re also a stranger.”

“I’m not a stranger.”

“What are you? My boyfriend?”

“I’d like to be. I already said that.”

She moistened her lips. “This is why I wanted to talk. We’re basically living together. This isn’t casual for me. I’ve invited you into my life and my son’s life. I don’t make these decisions lightly.”

“I realize that,” he said, studying her face.

“If we’re going to sleep together, there are some things I need to know about you.”

He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “All right.”

“Why haven’t you accepted the job in San Diego?”

“I wasn’t sure I wanted it, even before we met.”

“Why not?”