Wild West Fortune. Allison Leigh
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She slid around him and pulled open the washing machine. “Grayson?”
“My other brother. He’s gone a lot. Rides rodeo.”
She chuckled. “There’s a famous rodeo rider who goes by just Grayson.”
At his silence, she looked up at him.
His neck felt even hotter.
“Wait a sec. Your brother?” She looked astonished. “He’s The Grayson?”
“Guess you’ve heard of him.”
“Well, yeah. One of my coworkers does a blog for Weird Life entirely devoted to rodeo. She never stops talking about it.”
“Blog?”
“Online journal. You know.”
“I guess. Never been particularly interested in that sort of thing. And around here...no internet.”
“Except for at the library.”
He smiled slightly. “Right.” He reached above her head to open the cabinet. “Soap and stuff. Use whatever you need.”
She shook her wet things out of the towel into the machine. Thin excuse for a shirt. Jeans. One red sock. One blue sock. A tiny scrap of something white that caught on the edge of the machine before she flicked it inside with the towel and hastily closed the door.
He looked at her bare feet below the rolled-up legs of the sweatpants he’d provided. For some reason, he’d expected her toenails to be painted some bright, shocking color. But they were naked. No color at all.
And who knew why, but the sight of her entirely naked feet turned him on all over again.
God, he was a head case.
“I should check for storm damage upstairs,” he said abruptly. And take his own damn shower. An icy one. “You need anything else?”
She looked a little startled. “I appreciate everything you’ve already done,” she said swiftly. “I’ll be fine. Do what you need to do.” She tugged at the neckline of the shirt, pulling it up her shoulder where it promptly slid right back down again. “Go.”
“Look, about what happened—”
She shrugged, which sent the shirt sliding even farther. She reached up to snatch the oversized bottle of laundry soap from the cupboard. “There’s no reason to talk about it. We’re two consenting adults—” Her eyes rounded and she gave him a quick look. “And unattached adults...right?”
“I sure hope so.” Tess hadn’t been unattached at all. She’d just neglected to share that fact with Jayden.
Ariana looked away from him again, nodding. “So, no harm, no foul. It’s not like we, uh, actually—” She broke off and cleared her throat slightly. “You know.”
Not for lack of wanting, he answered silently. Particularly after she’d writhed against him the way she had, making the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard. Sounds that were sure to haunt his sleep for some time to come.
“I mean, I don’t sleep with men I don’t know,” she added. She filled the soap dispenser and jabbed a few buttons on the front of the fancy machine. “I imagine you’re more discriminating than that, too.”
He took the heavy soap bottle from her and replaced it in the cabinet. “I don’t sleep with men I don’t know, either.”
“Sweetie,” she drawled sweetly without missing a beat, “if you swing both ways, I’m not going to judge.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “Do you?”
Her face was rosy, belying her seemingly bold expression. “As a matter of fact, I don’t, but—”
“Neither do I,” he assured her. “I like women.” Despite his better intentions, he moved closer to her. Crowding her back against the machine. Standing close enough to smell the minty toothpaste on her breath and inhale the warmth from her smooth skin. “Particularly the one I’m looking at right now.”
Her lips parted like she was struggling to breathe. He knew she wasn’t, though, because he could feel the rise and fall of her breasts against him just fine.
“You smell like toothpaste.”
“I didn’t use your toothbrush or anything.” Her voice was faint. “I...made do without.”
He wasn’t sure he’d have cared all that much if she had used his toothbrush. “Sweetheart, I was in the army a long time. I know all about making do. I am a little sorry my brother found us when he did,” he murmured. “Another hour—”
“Hour?” She pressed her lips together again and looked away. Her cheeks were even redder.
“Okay.” He smiled slightly. “Fifteen minutes.”
She let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. She crossed her arms between them. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that only plumped up her creamy, butterfly-kissed breasts, making them plainly visible for him within the neck of the loose shirt.
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