Читать книгу Hard Lovin' Man - Peggy Moreland, Peggy Moreland - Страница 8

Double-Cross Heart Ranch.

Frowning, Lacey looped an arm around the steering wheel and leaned forward to peer through the windshield at the wrought-iron sign hanging above the ranch’s entrance. Fitting, she decided bitterly. In her estimation, the owner of the ranch—Lucas McCloud—was a double-crossing, heart-breaking, low-crawling snake, so it seemed only appropriate that his ranch’s name would reflect those same traits.

And today she planned to tell him face-to-face what a lowlife she thought he was. Firming her lips in determination, she made the turn into the ranch’s entrance and bumped her way across the cattle guard.

Cattle grazed along both sides of the long drive, unaffected by the dust she stirred, but a small herd of horses lifted their heads as she passed by, curious. Another time, another place, she might have stopped just to enjoy the beauty of the animals and the rugged Texas landscape. But not today. Today she was on a mission.

She’d waited two years for this moment. The rodeo in Fort Worth the night before had put her in close enough proximity to Austin and the Double-Cross Heart Ranch to justify the trip. Not that she needed justification. To her way of thinking, a confrontation with Lucas McCloud was long overdue.

As she topped a small rise, a sprawling ranch house popped into view—and, without warning, butterflies the size of bats took wing in her stomach. She pressed a hand to her middle, and tried to swallow back the unexpected attack of nerves. She could do this, she reminded herself firmly. And once she’d had her say, she was hightailing it back to Missouri, and she’d never have to so much as think the man’s name again.

Parking her truck in front of the house, she hopped down and marched to the porch. She rapped her knuckles hard against the thick oak door then stepped back and folded her arms across her chest, waiting.

She had just about decided to knock again when the door opened and a harried young woman appeared. But before Lacey could state her business, someone inside the house shouted, “Mandy! Where’s the Bible?”

The woman called over her shoulder, “In the bookcase in the office,” then rolled her eyes as she turned back to Lacey. She offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Things are a little crazy around here at the moment. We’re getting ready for a wedding.”

A wedding? As usual Lacey’s timing sucked wind. Didn’t matter, though, she told herself. Wedding, or not, she was staying until she’d seen Lucas McCloud and said her piece.

The woman extended a hand in greeting, her smile growing warmer. “I’m Mandy Barrister. What can I do for you?”

Reluctantly, Lacey unfolded her arms and shook the offered hand. “Lacey Cline. I’m here to see Lucas McCloud.”

“Lucas?” the woman repeated, her smile slowly fading.

“Yeah,” Lacey replied, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone. “Tell him his daughter is here to see him.”

The woman grabbed for the doorframe, her eyes going wide. “You’re Lucas’s daughter?”

Ignoring the question, Lacey leaned to peer around her. “Is he here? I’m in kind of a hurry.”

Drawing in a long breath, the woman uncurled her fingers from the doorframe and straightened, lifting her hand helplessly. “No. He’s—” She dropped the hand limply to her side. “Lucas is dead.”

A hoof with fifteen hundred pounds of horsepower behind it could have hit the wall of Lacey’s chest and had a lesser effect on her ability to breathe. “Dead?” she managed to choke out.

“Yes. For about thirteen years now.”

Lucas was dead? Lacey raked her fingers through her hair, trying to get a grip on her spinning emotions. She’d waited two years for the opportunity to tell the man who had sired her what a low-crawling snake she thought he was for refusing to acknowledge her as his daughter. She supposed she should be glad he was dead…but for some reason, all she felt was a huge gaping hole in her chest. She backed up a step. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, then, unable to think of anything else to say, turned and ran down the steps.

She’d almost made it to her truck when she heard footsteps running behind her.

“Lacey! Wait!”

She stopped, drawing in a deep breath before turning. The distress she saw on the woman’s face shamed her. She didn’t know what kind of memories her request to see Lucas had stirred, but obviously they weren’t pleasant ones. “Listen…Mandy, isn’t it?” At the woman’s nod, she hurried on. “Look, Mandy, I’m sorry I bothered you. I didn’t know.”

“You said you were Lucas’s daughter.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, and dropped her gaze to hide the unwanted tears that swelled again.

“So am I.”

Lacey’s head shot up. “What did you say?”

Mandy drew in a shuddery breath. “I’m Lucas’s daughter. I have two younger sisters, Merideth and Sam.”

Lucas had daughters? Then that meant Lacey had half sisters. Numbed by the realization, she stared, speechless.

Mandy seemed at a loss for words, too, because she clasped her hands together and squeezed until her knuckles looked like a string of pearls wrapped around her fists, before she lifted her hands in a helpless shrug. “I—I don’t know what to say to you.”

Lacey clamped her lips together in a frown. “You don’t have to say anything. Like I said, I’m sorry.” She turned away again, but Mandy grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Please don’t go,” she begged. She glanced toward the house, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “We’ve got this wedding,” she began hesitantly, then turned to Lacey again. “But it shouldn’t last too long, and I really would like to talk to you. We all would.”

Lacey eased from the woman’s grasp, regretting that she’d ever stepped foot on the Double-Cross. “Sorry, but I came to talk to Lucas. Since he’s dead, there’s no reason for me to hang around.”

“But Sam and Merideth will want to meet you.”

Lacey snorted a laugh. “I doubt that.”

Mandy scowled, obviously irritated by Lacey’s sarcasm. “Well, I don’t, and I think I would know their preferences better than you.”

Lacey moved her shoulder in a shrug. “Can’t argue that, since I didn’t even know they existed, or you, either, for that matter, until a couple of minutes ago.”

Mandy lifted her chin defensively. “Well, we didn’t know you existed, either, until you showed up on our doorstep.”

Aware that the conversation was going nowhere fast, Lacey tried to think of a way to end it. “Look,” she said, fighting for patience. “Just pretend I was never here, and that this conversation never took place. Okay?”

“No way.” Pursing her lips, Mandy grabbed Lacey’s hand and dragged her toward the house. “You can’t expect to drop a bomb like that and just drive away, leaving us with a thousand unanswered questions.”

Lacey dug in her boot heels, trying to wrench free, but was surprised to discover that, though the woman appeared delicate, her strength equaled Lacey’s own. “Hey! I said I was sorry. Okay? It was a mistake. I should never have come here.”

“Too late,” Mandy muttered.

“But you’re getting ready for a wedding,” Lacey reminded her, grasping at straws, anything to escape.

“Your cousin Alayna’s wedding. You’ll want to meet her, too.”

Lacey jerked to a stop and succeeded in dragging Mandy to a stop, as well. Half sisters and cousins? She’d never thought about Lucas having a family. He’d been just a name to her, not a real person…and she wanted no part of his family. “My horse is in the trailer,” she said on sudden inspiration. “I can’t leave him there in this heat.”

Mandy gave Lacey’s hand another jerk, hauling her up the steps behind her. “Don’t worry. I’ll have my son Jaime take care of him for you.”

She opened the door and all but shoved Lacey inside ahead of her. “Merideth! Sam!” she called. “Come here. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Lacey stood at the back of the cavernous living room, trying her best to melt into the wall. The room was crowded with members of the McCloud family—all of them strangers to her. Half sisters. Brothers-in-law. Cousins. Nieces and nephews. Before the wedding had started, Mandy had insisted on introducing her to every last one.

She drew in a shaky breath. She still wasn’t sure how Mandy had managed to rope her into staying for the ceremony. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be on the road, headed for Missouri, and as far away from the Double-Cross Heart Ranch as she could get.

But she wasn’t. And it didn’t look as if she was going to be able to leave any time soon.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she angled her head slightly to find Merideth staring at her, a slight frown curving her lips. Lacey frowned right back. With a haughty lift of her chin, Merideth turned away, centering her attention on the preacher and the bride and groom who stood in front of the massive fireplace.

To heck with you, Lacey fumed silently, forcing her gaze to the ceremony. She wasn’t here to win any friends. Heck, she didn’t even know why she was here!

Well, she did know, she reflected morosely as the preacher’s voice droned on and on as he read a long passage from the Bible. It was all Mandy’s doing. There had only been enough time for quick introductions before the wedding had started, and Mandy had insisted that Lacey stay until after the ceremony when they would have more time to talk. Lacey had finally agreed, just to get the spotlight off her for a while. Being introduced as Lucas’s illegitimate daughter and having all those people staring at her had been a little disconcerting.

She had to give it to them, though, she thought with a sigh. To their credit, not a one of them had questioned her claim as Lucas’s daughter, and all had treated her civilly.

Other than Merideth, of course.

Lacey glanced Merideth’s way again, frowning at the back of her blond head. It wasn’t that Merideth had been rude exactly. She just kept watching Lacey as if she expected to catch her slipping off with the family silver or something.

Lacey pursed her mouth in irritation and turned her gaze back to the front of the room. Discovering one of her half sisters was a movie star had come as a shock, but hadn’t changed Lacey’s feelings toward Meredith. She didn’t care for Meredith any more than Meredith cared for her, movie star or not. And as soon as this hitching was over, she told herself, she was getting out of here, promise or not. She didn’t owe the McClouds any explanations, and as far as she was concerned, they didn’t owe her any, either.

She heard the front door open behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see who was arriving late. She choked back a laugh when she realized the futility in that gesture. She didn’t know the bride and groom, much less any of their wedding guests. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the ceremony, silently praying that the long-winded preacher would speed things up.

She felt a shoulder bump hers and glanced over to find a man had slipped into the room and was standing beside her. When she got a good look at his face, she did a quick double take, snapping her gaze to the front of the room and the groom, then back to the man at her side, sure that she was hallucinating. The two men could be identical twins—only the groom was wearing a suit, and the man beside her was wearing camouflage pants and a black T-shirt. She smothered a laugh. And she’d been concerned about attending the ceremony dressed in boots and jeans.

The eyes that met hers were a deep chocolate brown, and she couldn’t help but stare. His face obviously hadn’t seen a razor in a couple of days, because the stubbled beginnings of a mustache and beard the same shade of brown as the hair that brushed the neck of his black T-shirt covered his jaw and chin. And his eyes. There was a wildness, a desperation in them that was downright scary.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and shifted away, putting space between them.

Tearing her gaze from his, Lacey quickly turned her attention back to the ceremony just as the minister said, “If anyone present knows of a reason why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy matrimony, may he speak now or forever hold his peace.”

“I do!” the man beside her growled.

Lacey whipped her head around to stare at him, as did everyone else in the room. As Lacey had, to a person, they did a double take when they got their first look at his face.

“Travis!” the groom exclaimed, a smile beginning to spread over his face. “You came!”

The stranger—Travis, the groom had called him—didn’t return the smile. “And just in the nick of time,” Lacey heard him mutter under his breath as he pushed himself away from the wall. He took a step forward, then stopped, squaring shoulders as broad as those of the man he confronted. “Mike, our foreman, sent me a wire relaying your message. I can’t let you go through with this, Jack.”

The smile that had bloomed on the groom’s face quickly dipped into a scowl. He turned back to the preacher. “Ignore him. Go on with the ceremony.”

Travis took another step forward. “Don’t listen to him, preacher. He’s crazy.”

Lacey watched the groom’s shoulders rise then fall in an obvious search for patience before he turned slowly back around. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Travis. I’m okay now.”

Travis closed the distance between them. “No, you’re not.” He nodded his head toward Alayna, who was staring at him, her eyes wide with shock, her face pale beneath the sheer veil that shadowed her face. “Not if you’re about to get married again. You made one mistake. I can’t stand by and watch you make another.”

“Then leave,” the groom snapped. He turned to face the preacher again. “Finish the job,” he growled.

The preacher gulped, glancing nervously from one man to the other.

Travis slapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder and whipped him around to face him. “If I leave,” he said, the warning undergirded with a thick layer of steel, “I’m taking you with me.”

Jack’s face turned bloodred with rage. He knocked Travis’s hand from his shoulder. “Like hell you are.”

If asked later, Lacey couldn’t have said who threw the first punch, but, in the blink of an eye, fists were flying. The bride screamed and one of the little kids in the room started crying. Another kid yelled, “Cool, dude! Hit him again, Dad!”

There was a grunt of pain, but Lacey couldn’t be sure if it was Travis or Jack who had made the guttural sound.

Mandy’s husband, Jesse, and Sam’s husband, Nash, quickly jumped into the fray, trying to pull Jack and Travis apart. But it was Merideth’s husband John Lee—a tall man with arms as thick as his wife’s waist—who managed to wedge himself between the two men and separate them. For his trouble, he caught the left meant for Jack square on the chin.

Testing his jaw to make sure it wasn’t broken, John Lee kept a hand braced on Jack’s chest, holding him back, while Jesse and Nash struggled to pen Travis’s arms behind his back.

John Lee looked from one furious face to the other, then suggested mildly, “Now why don’t you boys tell the rest of us what this little scuffle’s all about.”

“He’s crazy,” the two men said in unison, gesturing with their chins at the other.

John Lee nodded his head. “Well, I’d have to agree with you on that score, because you’re both acting like a couple of nutcases.” He glanced over at Travis. “Nice left,” he added, rubbing his still-throbbing chin.

“Thanks,” Travis grumbled.

Lacey would’ve laughed at the absurdity of the conversation, but she was afraid she might miss something.

John Lee let his hand drop from Jack’s chest and began to pace between the two men, his hands clasped behind his back, looking much like a trial lawyer preparing to question a crucial witness. He stopped after a moment to peer at Travis. “So why’d you want to stop the wedding?”

Travis scowled at Jack. “Because he’s not ready to get married.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

John Lee made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Now, Jack,” he scolded gently. “Remember there are ladies and children present, not to mention a man of the cloth.”

Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets and ducked his head, properly chastised. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then shifted his gaze to Travis’s, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “I know what I’m doing.”

Travis shook his head. “You may think you do, but you’re still running on emotion. Your wife’s been dead less than a year.”

“Ex-wife,” Jack corrected.

John Lee listened to the exchange, then focused on Jack. “Do you love Alayna?”

“With all my heart.”

“And you want to marry her?”

Jack turned to his bride and took her hand, squeezing it in his own as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Yes.”

“And do you want to marry Jack?” he asked the bride.

Her lips trembling uncontrollably, she could only nod her head.

John Lee lifted a shoulder. “That’s good enough for me.” He turned to Travis. “I’d say you’re fighting a losing battle, buddy.” He eyed him a moment longer. “Think you can behave yourself, now?”

“Yeah,” Travis muttered, though Lacey could see that there was still some fight left in him.

John Lee gave a nod to Jesse and Nash. “Turn him loose.”

Scowling, Travis jerked free of the two men, then dragged the back of his wrist across his mouth, swiping a trickle of blood from a lip that was quickly swelling. John Lee pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to him.

“Thanks,” Travis mumbled.

John Lee folded his arms across his chest and reared back to study him. “Judging by the resemblance, I’d say you’d have to be Jack’s twin.”

Travis shot his brother a glare, then turned to John Lee, sighing heavily as he stretched a hand out in greeting. “Yeah. Travis Cordell.”

John Lee smiled as he shook the offered hand. “Pleased to meet you, Travis. I’m John Lee Carter.” He leaned close. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Self-consciously, Travis lifted a shoulder. “No, I guess not.”

“Do y’all always scrap like this?”

The brothers exchanged an indefinable look, then Travis mumbled, “Yeah. Mostly.”

John Lee chuckled and slapped a companionable arm around Travis’s shoulder. “That’s what I figured.” He turned Travis toward the door. “How about you and me go and grab us a beer and let these folks get on with their business?”

Though the wedding had proved to be more entertaining than Lacey had expected, she wasn’t sure how much more of this family-ness she could take. With the reception now in full swing and Mandy busy playing hostess, Lacey’s patience was quickly wearing thin as she waited for the promised meeting with her half sisters. She couldn’t count the number of toasts that had been made to the newlyweds, or how many times a camera flash had gone off in her face. She quickly stepped out of the path of a pair of towheaded kids, squealing and laughing while they played a game of chase through the crowd of well-wishers.

With a sigh, she glanced around in hopes of catching Mandy’s eye, but instead her gaze settled on the groom’s brother, who stood on the fringe of the festivities. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Though she couldn’t agree with his methods, she figured his heart had been in the right place when he’d tried to stop the wedding. And at the moment, he looked as if he felt as out-of-place and miserable as she did. Sensing a kinship of sorts, she moved to stand beside him.

“How’s the lip?”

He lifted the ice pack he held at the corner of his mouth and muttered, “It hurts,” then replaced it.

Lacey stepped in front of him, squinting her eyes to better see his face in the glow from the torches lining the fan-shaped patio. “That eye looks pretty bad, too. Have you put anything on it?”

He puckered his brow, obviously unaware of the injury, and lifted a hand to inspect it. He flinched when his fingers grazed the raw flesh.

She bit back a grin. “I guess you haven’t.” She glanced toward the house, wondering if she could find a first-aid kit in the kitchen, then shuddered when she saw the sea of people she’d have to wade through in order to reach the back door. Squaring her shoulders, she hooked her arm through his. “Come on, killer. I’ve got some horse liniment in my trailer.”

“Horse liniment!” he cried, jerking her to a stop. “I’m no horse.”

She chuckled and gave him a tug, all but dragging him toward the barn where her truck and trailer were now parked. “No, but judging by the show you put on earlier, you could be a distant relation. A jackass,” she explained at his questioning look.

He snorted, then winced at the pain the action caused him.

Chuckling, she slipped her arm from his and opened the side door that led to the trailer’s sleeping quarters. She stepped inside, pausing to flip on a light. Moving easily in the confined space, she opened a cabinet door and pulled down a first-aid kit. When she saw that Travis still stood outside, watching her warily, she gestured for him to join her. “It’s okay, killer,” she said, holding up the box. “I’ve got medications for humans, too.”

Reluctantly he climbed inside. She waved him toward a wide, padded bench that she hoped to someday convert into a bed for use when she was traveling the rodeo circuit. “Have a seat and I’ll take a look.”

He dropped down, his look guarded as he watched her flip open the box and remove a packet.

“Pre-soaked antiseptic gauze,” she said, responding to the suspicion in his eyes.

When she tried to apply the gauze to the cut, he reared his head back and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “You hurt me,” he warned, meeting her gaze, “and I’ll have to hurt you back.”

The strength in his hand surprised her, but it was the emotion in his brown eyes that had the breath backing up in her lungs. Anger, frustration, concern. They all churned there, but it was his concern—a concern she instinctively attributed to his lingering worry over his brother’s marriage—that squeezed at her heart. Hoping to distill the sympathy she felt building, she teased, “Sissy.”

His scowl deepened, but he loosened his grip on her hand.

Mindful of his warning, though she sensed he wasn’t the kind of man who would make good the threat, she kept her touch gentle as she dabbed the gauze at the cut, cleaning it. “That brother of yours has a mean right hook.”

“Lucky punch,” he muttered disagreeably.

She bit back a smile. “Maybe,” she conceded, and continued to cleanse the wound. “Was it really worth all this to try to stop his wedding?”

“It would’ve been if I’d succeeded.”

“You said he was crazy.”

“Poor choice of words.”

“What is he, then?”

“Confused. Grieving.” He sighed heavily. “He lost his son and his ex-wife in an automobile accident less than a year ago. He’s been on the run ever since.”

“Tough break.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“So you think he’s marrying on the rebound?”

“It’s a possibility. A strong one.”

“He sounded sincere enough to me.”

“Maybe,” he said doubtfully.

With a shrug of apparent indifference, Lacey tossed aside the strip of gauze and picked up another.

Travis watched her, frowning, wishing he shared her detachment. But he didn’t. Jack was his brother. His twin brother. And when Jack hurt, so did he. Jack’s first marriage had left scars that Travis felt partially responsible for, and the accident that had stolen his son had left his brother—in Travis’s opinion—emotionally unstable. As a result, he felt duty-bound to see that his brother wasn’t hurt again.

He sighed heavily, feeling the frustration building. He didn’t want to think about his brother’s current emotional state any more, or his own failure to stop the wedding.

And the woman who was nursing his cuts offered just the distraction he needed to forget his troubles for awhile. A tight little butt, small waist, full ripe breasts. Sensuous lips pursed in concentration.

His own lips began to curve upward as she moved to stand between his spread knees again. Yeah, she was just the distraction he needed. Pleased with his current situation, he laid his head back and closed his eyes, prepared to enjoy the feminine attention. He felt her fingers graze his temple as she combed back his hair, then the weight of her hand when she pressed her palm against the side of his head, holding his hair out of her way. Soothed by her touch, he inhaled deeply…and filled his senses with her. No flowery perfumes for this woman, he reflected, fully relaxed now. Just soap, sunshine and pure woman.

Intrigued by her and by the brief story John Lee had shared with him about her questionable ancestry, he opened his eyes to study her. The light was behind her and left shadows on her face, but he could see well enough to make out her features. Wide green eyes framed by long dark lashes, a cute button of a nose with a light sprinkling of freckles across its bridge. Full sensuous lips, a stubborn chin.

A face full of contradictions.

As he decided this, she placed a finger beneath his chin and angled his face toward the light, furrowing her forehead in concern.

“That cut’s pretty deep,” she said uneasily. “You might need a couple of stitches.”

“Can you sew?”

Startled by the question, she shifted her gaze to his. “No,” she said, then bit back a smile when she saw that he was teasing. She glanced at the cut again and sighed, shaking her head. “But without stitches, you’re going to have a scar.”

“It’ll just add character.”

She shrugged as she straightened. “It’s your face.”

“And a handsome one, huh?”

She snorted a laugh and tossed aside the square of soiled cotton. “Watch it. Your ego’s showing.”

He caught her hand, and pulled her back around to face him. “Are you a nurse?”

Standing so close, Lacey had to admit that he was right. He did have a handsome face. And, fat lip or not, the sexiest smile she believed she’d ever seen.

Uncomfortably aware of the hand that held hers, she eased free and reached for the antiseptic cream. “No. I’m a barrel racer.” She squeezed a dollop of cream onto her finger and leaned to smear it on the cut.

“A barrel racer, huh? Too bad. You’d have made a good nurse. You’ve got a nice touch.”

Not knowing what to say in reply, she remained silent as she dabbed the cream along the wound.

“You’re Lacey, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’d have guessed right off.”

“Guessed what?” she asked absently, concentrating on keeping the cream on the cut and out of his eye.

“That you’re a McCloud.”

She jerked her hand away and straightened, staring down at him. “How?”

“You look just like ’em.”

Frowning, she tore her gaze from his and grabbed a rag to wipe the cream from her fingers. “No, I don’t.”

When he laughed, she shot him a look sharp enough to fillet a fish…but he just smiled. “Sorry, but you do.”

“I do not,” she repeated firmly.

“Yeah, you do.” When she huffed a breath, he laughed again. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. Hell, they’re all beautiful women.” He watched her rip open a bandage, her jerky movements reflecting her agitation, and added, “But I guess, being a woman, you wouldn’t have noticed that.” Her scowl deepened as she leaned to place the bandage over the cut. “Now, take me for instance—” he began, then flinched when she pressed the bandage into place.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“No harm done,” he said and continued with his observation. “I noticed right off how pretty they were, and I knew immediately that they were sisters.”

“How? They don’t look a thing alike.”

“Their colorings different, and they’re built differently, but the similarities are there.”

Having completed her first aid, she gave him a nudge with her hip, making room for herself on the bench, then dropped down beside him. Pulling the kit to her lap, she started replacing the supplies. “Enlighten me.”

“The way they walk, the way they talk. They’re all three strong women, sure of themselves and each other and their place in the family unit.”

Lacey snorted and closed the lid with a snap. “Well, if that’s what you’re basing your assessment on, you’re wrong, because I don’t have a place in this family.”

“Yeah, you do.” He grinned when she turned to glare at him. “You just haven’t found it, yet.”

“Yeah, right,” she muttered and stood, stretching to replace the kit in the cabinet.

Travis watched her, noticing the way her shirt molded those firm breasts, the tiny waist, the slender hips, the long stretch of muscular legs. He appreciated a beautiful woman, always had, and he considered the one he was currently looking at a prime example of the gender.

Deciding the trip to the Double-Cross might not be a total loss after all, he smiled as he took advantage of her precarious position and bumped his foot against her left boot, knocking her off-balance. She sucked in a startled breath, flailing her arms in an attempt to recover…but dropped neatly into his lap, just as he’d planned.

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and snugged her back against his chest, nuzzling his nose in her hair. “Is this a bed I’m sitting on?” he whispered at her ear.

She held her body rigid against his. “Y-yes.”

“Is it big enough for two to lie down on?”

“N-no.”

“That’s okay,” he said, and nipped playfully at her earlobe, “’cause I was kinda hoping you’d be stretched out on top of me, anyway.”