Maybe she better knock on Aidan’s door. He may have overslept.
Standing outside his bedroom left her feeling jittery in a way she didn’t want to contemplate. When she rapped softly, she received no response. She knocked again. “Aidan?”
No answer.
He must not be in the house.
She hurried through the routine of injecting her insulin so she could slip on her boots, grab her jacket and quickly went outside. He told her he began the morning by checking the horses, so she headed there first.
When she entered the barn, a couple horses greeted her with whinnies. She scanned the dim interior, and there, against the wall, she spotted a tall figure stretched out on two hay bales. His booted feet hung off the end, and one long arm draped over the side, the fingertips brushing the floor.
She jerked her gaze to the cow, who stood there in the stall munching on hay as if a man slumbered nearby on the hay every day.
Liberty shook her head. She’d met plenty of ranchers over the years, but none so dedicated as Aidan Bellamy.
She stole down the center aisle to the sleeping man. Staring at him when he wasn’t aware seemed wrong, but she couldn’t help herself. Her gaze latched on to his handsome face. How could he appear even harder in an unconscious state? The angular planes of his cheeks and forehead, his straight, manly nose and that jaw that stirred a woman’s ovaries into a fit, all drew Liberty’s attention.
His hat had toppled off in the night and lay on the floor. But it gave her a chance to really make note of how soft his hair looked. If she threaded her fingers into those strands, would they trickle through her fingers like she thought they would? A thick lock lay on his forehead, and she experienced a sudden urge to brush it away.
Her throat clicked as she swallowed and continued her study of the artwork before her. God had surely reached deep into his creative well when he designed Aidan Bellamy.
The top button of his plaid shirt was open, revealing a triangle of tanned neck. Seeing his pulse throb there had her own heartrate spiking. At least she thought so before her gaze traveled over his chest, hit his belt buckle, and dipped lower.
Holy. Hell.
The man sported a bulge in his Wranglers impressive enough to bring a silent gasp to her lips. Morning wood didn’t begin to describe what she was looking at. More like morning artillery. A warhead.
It might be the low lighting and the lack of enough caffeine in her system playing tricks on her eyes, but she thought the man must be hung like the proverbial horse.
Okay, enough. She needed to wake him so they could get to work.
Reaching out, she touched his shoulder, steely even in his relaxed state. She shook him a little.
His arm dangling to the floor whipped up, caught her around the hips and dragged her down with him. She landed on his chest with a hard thump that slammed the air from her lungs. Or maybe his musky scent did that. Or the way he buried his face against her neck and nuzzled her.
Her eyes slid shut on the sensation of warm lips meeting untouched and neglected flesh. He eased his mouth up to her ear and parted them around her earlobe. A shudder racked her, and she planted a hand on his chest, thinking to push him away. Instead, her fingers clamped on his shirt front.
Dark heat oozed into her belly as he prodded her earlobe. When he grazed it with his teeth, she tightened her hold on his shirt, twisting it in her grasp. A croak left her throat.
Aidan went still. The arm banded around her hips tightened momentarily before loosening.
He raised his head and stared at her. For a moment, she saw the aftereffects of sleep lingering in his icy blue eyes. Then the fog cleared and realization set in.
“Hell,” he grated out. “Sorry, I was dreaming.”
She bolted to her feet and strode to the cow, mind murky with the sensation of being locked to the rancher’s solid body while he worried her earlobe with his lips and teeth.
She stared at the cow but only saw Aidan.
She realized what he said. Dreaming. Whoever he dreamed of was one lucky woman. The bulge in his jeans said he wanted her bad.
For some reason, this hit like a blow to her ego, and she snapped her arms around her middle.
Focus, Liberty. Focus on work. Ranching. This cow.
Her attention narrowed from man to ranch to the cow before her. The animal appeared to be completely fine as she ground the hay between her teeth and went for more in the trough.
A boot thump on the floor behind her sent a shiver of awareness through Liberty. Would Aidan say more about what happened?
“You slept out here,” she said to change the topic before it even came up.
“Yeah, I couldn’t clear my head from worrying.” He stepped up beside her, rumpled and smelling of hay and the hottest thing she’d ever set eyes on. He pulled his hat down over his messy hair as he surveyed the cow. “She’s lookin’ better.”
Liberty nodded.
“Something we did worked. We’ll keep an eye on her, let her stay here for the day before turning her out with the herd again.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Her voice had a breathless quality she wished would vanish along with the tight knot in her core.
He turned his head to pierce her in that intense stare. Her heart picked up its pace again.
“Did you get breakfast yet?”
“Yeah, I ate your last egg. I’ll buy some later today.”
“That’s fine. One’s not enough for me anyway. I’ll grab some cereal.”
“I didn’t see any milk in the fridge either.”
“Yeah, I guess I used it up and forgot to buy more.”
“Well.” She stole a look at him. “There’s always beans.”
His hard lips, that minutes before had been wrapped around her earlobe, quirked at the corner. “Good source of protein.”
What felt like fizzy soda bubbles rose inside her. She smiled despite her wish she was more immune to this man’s dark, rugged good looks. Having a crush on her boss would make working with him more difficult.
“I’ll head into the house for a few.”
“I made coffee,” she said.
He nodded. “I appreciate it. What kind did you make?”
“The dark Colombian roast.”
“Good choice for a morning cup.” He drifted to the barn door and turned as if about to say something to her.
Her heart practically launched inside her chest. After he dragged her down on top of him, her body already felt like it was orbiting. Now her mind floated out into the nether too as she considered the things she was learning about Aidan Bellamy.
Devoted rancher. Coffee connoisseur. Galant rescuer of crying women.
And capable of heating her with a nibble at her ear.
Since she wasn’t certain what to do for the cow for the time being, she began with the horses. Her knowledge of their routines was limited, and she could only think to fill their feed boxes with grain. Within minutes, Aidan returned, wearing fresh clothes and holding a thermos of coffee with the lid open.
He stood in the open doorway, watching her progress and generally unnerving the hell out of her. Was he looking at her like a boss watched an employee to make sure they were up to snuff? Or was he seeing the woman he’d yanked down and rubbed his hard body against?
Either way, she refused to lose her poise. During the rougher years toward the end of her marriage, poise was all she had, holding her head up, thrusting her shoulders back and acting as if nothing in the world could get to her.