Christ, did she have any idea of her allure right this minute? A man took one look at that mussed, just-been-loved-hard-and-thorough hair and those full, wide lips and he would want to push her back into her bedroom and have his way with her.
“I’ll wake up when you do,” she told him.
He liked her gumption. “Suit yourself. The offer’s there.”
“I’m all right.”
“I’ll knock on your door. Give ya a wakeup call.”
“I got it, thank you anyway.”
Her smart tone didn’t take a minute off, did it? Even dead tired after hours of work, she still had something to say in return.
“Suit yourself,” he said again. “G’night.”
He took two steps to his own bedroom door and stopped to throw her a look. She was watching him. A sizzle zapped between their stares, bringing him to a strong awareness that she would be sleeping next door to him. Paces away.
He walked into his room and closed the door. A moment later, he heard hers shut too.
When he offered for her to live here and work for him, he didn’t give a thought to the living arrangements. Who got the bathroom first? Did she want to shower tonight or in the morning?
There was also a matter of the house being a mess. He really should attempt to clean up a little and make her feel more at ease. He didn’t like living this way either.
He unbuttoned his shirt and cast it toward the hamper in the corner of his room. His socks followed. After he stripped off his belt and dropped it to a bench at the end of his bed, he opened the door again.
As soon as he stepped into the hallway and spotted a long pair of naked, toned, golden-tan thighs, he stopped dead. His stare lingered on the spot between those thighs, and shifted upward to where the hem of a long, oversized T-shirt stopped him from seeing Liberty’s perfect ass.
She whirled. “Sorry, I was going to…” her stare landed on his bare chest, “shower.”
A thump of attraction hit his cock, and it stirred behind his fly. The feeling reminded him how long it’d been since he had his hands on any woman let alone one he wanted so bad.
“I’ll wait.” His tone came out splintered.
Her gaze darted to his chest again as she backed into the bathroom and quickly shut the door.
Jesus Christ.
The woman had more allure in her pinky finger than most he’d slept with. He closed his eyes momentarily, trapping the vision of her into his mind, as he’d seen her just before she disappeared into the bathroom—hair down around her shoulders. Collar of her T-shirt so wide it nearly hung off her shoulder. And those legs.
God, even her small tanned toes left him burning for her.
If they were going to cohabitate, he’d need to find a schedule where his path didn’t cross hers.
He walked into his room once more. Damn, he couldn’t shake that off. Seeing her in such a state of undress would throw him off for days. She wasn’t so immune to him either, if her inability to draw her eyes from his chest told him anything.
He plunked down on the edge of his bed and listened to the shower, trying like hell not to think of her naked and wet, rubbing soap all over her curvy body.
Hell.
He wasn’t gonna sleep tonight either.
The minute he heard the shower switch off, he was achingly hard again. Envisioning water beaded on her skin and how sweet her moans would be as he slid his mouth down her body to the juncture of her thighs…
He swung his legs off the mattress. After he dressed, he cracked the door before stepping into the hall. He wanted a glimpse of her.
No, he didn’t.
Yeah, he damn well did but he was going to repress the hell outta that shit.
Going out to check on the cow would be his only distraction from the wicked thoughts swirling through his mind and making his libido act like it was seventeen again. He was going to pass it off as sleep deprivation and temporary insanity.
As soon as he drew in a deep breath of the night air, he centered himself. Liberty actually had helped quite a bit today. She didn’t hesitate to step in and get her hands dirty.
All right, so he was trying to distract himself from the other things he liked about her.
The quiet of the barn drew him in. Even as a kid, he’d found it to be a safe haven from the world that sometimes annoyed him too much. He’d hide out in the hay loft and think or dream. Around that time, he realized he wasn’t a people person, and that wasn’t a bad thing. He simply needed social activities in small doses.
For that reason, he’d avoided hiring a ranch hand. Funny enough, being around Liberty all day hadn’t bothered him.
The horses made rustling noises as he passed down the center aisle of the barn. In the rear stall near the doors, they’d installed the cow around one in the morning. Liberty had fussed over the animal excessively by stroking its side and talking to it, all while he fetched it plenty of water and fresh hay.
The cow seemed to be holding its own right now. Not better but not declining more, at least. Leaning against the side of the stall, Aidan assessed the animals. “I’ve spent two nights with you already. What’s another?” He wouldn’t get any sleep in the house anyhow, lying awake listening to every small noise from Liberty’s room. Picturing her naked legs and how it would feel to spread them and slide between.
He issued a low groan before dragging a couple hay bales toward the rear of the barn near the sick cow and stretching out on them.
Damn uncomfy, but a slight improvement over a constant hard-on.
* * * * *
Liberty hadn’t lived with anybody besides her ex-husband in quite a few years, but scanning over the wreck of a kitchen made her groan. Running on few hours of sleep and zero caffeine since the previous morning, she had little patience for this mess. Where was that slob of a man anyway?
Listening hard, she didn’t hear Aidan stirring in his bedroom, and she hadn’t met him outside the bathroom as she had the previous night.
The image of his broad, muscled chest tapering to washboard abs and God, those ridges of muscles riding around his hips had kept her awake for too long after she finally fell into bed.
By looking at the cowboy, she could tell he was layered with muscle from day after day of hard work. Seeing it with her own two eyes—and in the flesh—was another thing.
Well, she needed food. As soon as she could make a trip into town, she’d grab groceries for her half of the fridge. Until then, she was stuck eating…she opened the fridge door and stared at the contents.
An open can of beans with the spoon still in it was front and center. She thought only men in cowboy movies ate like that. The slightly sticky refrigerator also boasted ketchup, mustard and a gallon jar of pickles.
She steered clear of the conspicuous-looking lunchmeat and reached for the eggs. After opening the carton, she found a single egg there.
“Guess it’s mine.” She turned to the stove and searched the cupboards for a skillet. Of course it sat in the sink, dirty. Which meant she had to wash it.
Heaving a sigh, she scoured the pan of its burned on residue and set it on the stovetop. Two minutes later, she had her egg and some toast. Next to the coffeemaker, she located not two bags of good quality coffee but three. At least the man kept coffee in massive supply.
How odd to sit in a strange kitchen alone, eating a stranger’s food. She felt like an imposter. Wondering how her life had come to this stopping point would do no good, so she ate her breakfast and chased it with coffee. After that, she went into her room to administer her morning insulin.