and dining room were immaculate, but empty, as was the living room. She glanced out to the big patio in back, but there was no sign of Hoyt. Then she saw his black Stetson hanging on a wall peg in the dim kitchen, and was certain he had to be in the house. Eadie started toward the bedroom wing.
The only light in this part of the house was coming from Hoyt’s bedroom, so she stopped just short of the doorway to rap her knuckles on the door frame without looking in. If he’d just stepped out of the shower in the altogether, she didn’t want to compromise his privacy. There was no response, but she heard what sounded like a soft snore.
Eadie cautiously peeked in and saw Hoyt sprawled on his back on the big bed. He had on a fresh shirt that he hadn’t tucked in and a different pair of jeans than he’d had on that day, but he was fully dressed. His boots were on again, so perhaps he’d laid down earlier because he was drowsy then had fallen asleep. Surely Miss Ed didn’t know about this, because she might have given him heck for putting his boots up on the beautiful bedspread.
Eadie couldn’t let him sleep the night in his clothes, so she started across the carpet to the big bed to touch his shoulder.
Her soft, “Hoyt, can you wake up?” was a whisper. She gave his shoulder a gentle nudge. “Hoyt? It’s Eadie. You need to wake up and get ready for bed.”
That seemed to rouse him and he began to stir. But the unguarded movement must have hurt because he drawled out a swearword. Eadie decided she had to be a little more firm and spoke in a more normal tone.
“Hoyt? You need to wake up. Be careful of your stitches, but wake up.” She gave his shoulder another nudge. “Hoyt?”
His low moan was more a resistant growl than an indication of pain, so she reached for his fingers and, careful not to brush his injured side, which was facing her, she chafed his hand between her palms.
And…oh, Lordy! The feel of his big, callused hand between hers was a guilty pleasure she didn’t dare indulge too long.
“Come on, Hoyt,” she coaxed, almost as much to get him to wake up so she could let go of his hand as to spare him an uncomfortable night. “You can’t sleep in your clothes. Wake up so you can take them off and get under the covers.”
The low growl that answered her was a shock.
“You take ’em off.”
Eadie stared down at Hoyt’s sleep slack face, stunned. She’d stopped chafing his hand between hers and that next second she realized her mouth was hanging open. Had she heard right?
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