Having the Cowboy's Baby. Trish Milburn
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Because she wasn’t one to give even her body so easily. She’d lost control, and if there was one thing she couldn’t bear, it was to not be in control of her own life.
She dressed in cool summer pajamas and crawled into her bed. She inhaled the familiar clean scent of it, ran her hand across the downy softness. Everything about it was better than the bed at the Country Vista Inn.
Except that she was alone. She tried to tell herself that she was perfectly fine on her own, that she preferred it that way. But as a tear finally leaked out and trailed down to her pillow, she admitted that she was lonely. Logan wasn’t to blame for what happened between them. Her friends weren’t either. It was the loneliness that most of the time she could convince herself was a figment of her imagination, the empty feeling that she rarely acknowledged. But as she lay in her bed alone, she let herself feel it. She let herself admit, if only to herself in the privacy of her own mind, that she missed the warmth of a man’s body next to her.
As she closed her eyes, she allowed herself to relive every moment, every touch she’d shared with Logan. Moments and touches that had for a short while made her forget that loneliness.
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