Marrying the Cowboy. Trish Milburn
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hit the hay before I do a face-plant in my bowl.” She started to take her bowl to the sink until Verona waved it back down to the table, indicating she’d take care of the dishes.
“Sounds like a good idea,” Pete said, and stood, too.
As Elissa crossed the living area toward the hallway to the bedrooms, it dawned on her that she had no idea where Pete was staying. She turned to ask him only to find him right behind her. “You’re staying here?”
“Yep. Your aunt threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t.”
“I did not,” Verona called from the kitchen.
“Close enough.” Pete smiled, and even though his fatigue mirrored her own, it was good to see that smile.
She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do the same in his situation. It was tough enough in her own.
“You don’t mind sharing your space with a smelly boy?”
Elissa actually laughed a little at that, remembering the long-ago comment she’d made when he and Greg Bozeman had tried to sandwich her between them during a particularly sweaty P.E. class.
“As long as you remember to put the toilet seat down, you’re safe.”
He gave her a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes at him and resumed her trek to her bedroom. After making quick work of ditching her dirty clothes and slipping into her pajamas, she snuggled into her comfortable bed. It wasn’t until she heard the distinctive squeak in the next room that she remembered the guest bed was just on the other side of the wall, pushed long-ways along the wall as hers was. And for some odd reason, it felt weird to be lying in her bed that close to Pete. When she suddenly wondered what he slept in, she knew she’d gone way, way too long without sleep. She rolled over to place her back toward the wall, but damned if that same question didn’t plague her until she finally succumbed to the sandman.
Chapter Three
By the time Pete woke the next morning, the sun was streaming in the window and the little digital clock read 10:30 a.m. And despite the fact that he was in an unfamiliar bed, he didn’t think he’d slept that well in months, so much so that he didn’t want to move. Since he didn’t have to work until the afternoon shift, he lay right where he was for several more minutes, making a mental to-do list. He’d rather go out to the stables for a ride, but he didn’t have time. First thing he needed to do was find some cheap transportation. He’d get an insurance settlement eventually, but he couldn’t wait that long. He had a mess to clean up next door, and that required a truck.
Though he hated to do so, he forced himself to get up. Nothing on that to-do list was going to get done if he stayed in bed all day. It was likely that Elissa and Verona had been up for hours. But when he stepped into the hall, the house was quiet. Elissa was probably already out at the nursery, and Verona wasn’t a woman to sit idly at home when there were things to do and people to help.
He pulled on the clothes he’d taken off the previous night and made his way to the shower. He’d been standing under the hot water for a few minutes when his thoughts drifted to the night before. He’d listened as Elissa moved around in her room, how she seemed to be tossing and turning a lot after she went to bed. He’d gotten the distinct sense that something was bothering her. No doubt it was thoughts of the destruction to her business. Other than that, Elissa had always been carefree and perpetually happy.
As he shampooed his hair, for some reason his thoughts went back much further, to when Elissa had first moved in with Verona at the beginning of their freshman year. He’d been instantly in love. Well, as in love as hormonal teenage boys could get. But he’d also been the world’s biggest chicken when it came to girls and had never let her know how he felt, not even when they’d been paired up in history to create a diorama.
They had worked long hours creating the Coliseum in Rome filled with gladiators on the sand and bloodthirsty spectators in the stands, but he still hadn’t gotten up the nerve to ask her out. Eventually, the crush had faded away, leaving a close friendship. They’d worked together at the nursery in high school, and she’d been the one to encourage him to apply to the state police academy after his mother’s cancer went into remission.
He swallowed hard against the pain that still felt fresh, the knowledge that the cancer had returned and taken her life. He might be a grown man now, but there were times when he still felt like an orphan with both of his parents gone.
Pete shoved the thoughts away as he turned off the water and grabbed a towel. He had enough current problems to worry about without dragging up old sorrows. When he dried off, it hit him that he needed to address one concern before even a new vehicle. Clothes.
He stared at the rumpled jeans and T-shirt he’d had stowed in his locker at work. Without them he’d still be running around in the shorts and tee he’d had on when the storm hit. He had some new uniforms ordered, but he needed nonduty clothes pronto. Hell, he needed everything. Which meant he had to first go to the bank and get a new debit card. Damn, life was a pain in the ass when everything you owned blew away.
He rummaged in the cabinets until he found an unopened toothbrush. He needed to shave, too, but he’d wait until he could buy his own razor. It was bad enough that he was pilfering a toothbrush. Something about that act caused the events of the past couple of days to slam into him as he finished brushing his teeth. He cursed and shook his head. After rinsing the brush and his mouth, he stood with his hands pressed against the countertop for several seconds as he allowed himself a mini pity party. But then he turned on the faucet, splashed his face with cold water and toweled it away.
Feeling sorry for himself had never worked to his favor, so he wasn’t about to start now. Instead, he pulled on his worn jeans, thankful at least that there was one more clean T-shirt in the guest room.
He opened the bathroom door and was greeted with a yelp.
* * *
ELISSA COULDN’T BELIEVE she’d slept so late. After she’d finally gone to sleep the night before, she didn’t remember anything. Usually she woke up at least once in the night, but not last night. She’d slept like not just a log but a petrified log. She rubbed her hand over her face, trying to wipe away the groggy feeling.
As she reached for the bathroom door, it opened. She came fully awake with a cry of surprise. Her heart hammered against her breastbone until she realized it was only Pete and not some burglar who’d had to take a tinkle break before robbing her blind.
But as she looked up at him and noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt, her heart refused to slow its frantic pace. The bare skin was damp and probably warm from the shower. And when did Pete Kayne get so ripped?
“Sorry, I thought you were gone already.”
At the sound of Pete’s voice, the voice of her friend, she snatched her gaze away from his chest to find an awkward, embarrassed look on his face. She half turned and gestured vaguely toward her room. “I think I sort of slipped into a coma last night.”
“Me, too.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on, that she hadn’t just ogled the pectorals of one of her best friends. “Are you late for work?”
He shook his head. “On this afternoon.”
She glanced at the bathroom behind him.
“Sorry,” he said again, this time moving out of the doorway to give her access. “I’ve got errands to run.”
Pete hurried past her toward the guest room. Unable to help herself, she glanced over her shoulder. Damn, his back was every bit as well cut as his chest, a fact that she would have been much better off not knowing. Even after he slipped into the room and shut the door behind him, she didn’t move. Memories started tumbling through her head, and she realized she’d never seen Pete without a shirt on. And now she feared she’d never be able to forget the sight.
With