A Real Cowboy Loves Forever (Wyoming Rebels Book 5) Read online

  But when her cheeks flushed and her eyes widened, he realized that she'd heard exactly what he said. "You do?"

  "Yeah." He moved his hand ever so slightly, just enough so he could slide his thumb over her lower lip. It was so soft that he felt like the world had shifted under his feet.

  Her cheeks turned pink. "I want you to kiss me," she whispered. "Is that horrible? I mean, I don't even know you—"

  He laughed softly. "Yeah, it's horrible, because you should run screaming from me."

  She lifted her chin. "If I should run screaming from you, why are you standing here touching me? Shouldn't your protector instinct make you want to keep me safe from you?"

  "Yeah. It should." He moved closer, until his mouth was inches from her. "It always has in the past. Women run from me like their life depends on it, and I like it that way. Until I saw you sitting on that bar stool in the café, until you smiled at me. My world stopped."

  Her face softened. "You never let anyone smile at you, do you?"

  "I'd let you smile at me all day long." His gaze dropped to her mouth, unable to contain the rising need within him to drop his head another few inches, and take her mouth in his. One kiss. One whisper of a kiss that he could take with him into the rest of his life.

  "I'm afraid of men," she whispered, even as she inched toward him ever so slightly, and rested her hand gently on his chest, barely touching him, but at the same time, sending fire streaking through his body.

  "And I'm the kind of guy you should be afraid of," he said.

  "So this is a bad idea," she whispered, her gaze flicking to his mouth again.

  "Hell, yeah."

  She bit her lower lip, settling on his face. "It's been so long," she whispered. "I don't even know if I remember what it feels like to be kissed."

  It was that whisper of yearning in her voice, the way she looked at him as if he could give her something she needed so badly, something kind, something soft, something nurturing, that broke his self-control. He could offer her nothing of what she wanted from him, but the mere fact that she was looking at him with that kind of trust and acceptance, was too much. For this one second, this one moment in time, he wanted to be the guy she needed.

  He thumbed her lower lip, and then bent his head and closed the distance between them. He brushed a kiss over her lips, lightly, intending it to be nothing more than a whisper in the cold, but the moment his lips touched hers, he completely forgot about being chaste.

  The kiss was both pure innocence, and pure sinful heat. No, not sinful. There was nothing sinful about this woman. She was everything he wasn't, kind, nurturing, shining light into the world. Kissing her was a grasp at salvation for him, a chance to breathe in the hope that could galvanize him for another decade to keep fighting the battle against the monster inside him.

  A small sigh of pleasure drifted from her, and his gut tightened. Her fingers were still resting against his chest, but he felt her fingertips curl ever so slightly, digging in, just enough to show him that he was affecting her at least on some level. Yeah, he knew he wasn't the kind of guy to pour light in anyone else. Hell, he was the guy who would strip the light out of anybody…

  That thought, that brutal truth, was like an icy cold stab through his gut. He broke the kiss immediately, and stepped back, dropping his hands to his sides. What the hell was he doing kissing a woman like Hannah? He would break her. He would put out that light, and watch everything she was shrivel and die if he poured himself into her life.

  There was no chance he was going to do that to her. No chance.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, but didn't go anywhere. He couldn't make himself step away. He was too entranced watching the play of emotions across her face. She was slow to recover from the kiss, her eyes still closed, her mouth still parted slightly, her breath slow and deep.

  Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at him. There was so much emotion in those brown depths, so much wonder, so much softness. She smiled slightly, and touched her fingers to her lips. "That was interesting."

  His eyebrows shot up. "Interesting? That's it? Like it was a piece of trivia you picked up on the Internet?"

  She laughed, a low, quiet laugh that seemed to pour right into him. "Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking. The moment your lips touched mine, I thought to myself that this was exactly like surfing the Internet for random facts about kangaroos."

  He couldn't keep the smile from curving the corners of his mouth. "I have to say, that this is the first time that my kissing has been likened to web searches for Australian marsupials. I'm not really sure whether or not I should take that as a compliment."

  She laughed again, but this time it was more genuine and deeper, but there was an edge to it that made it sound rusty, as if it had been a long time since she had laughed. "Well, I wouldn't necessarily classify it as an insult, so, in the interest of positive and constructive self-talk, you should definitely find a way to classify it as a compliment."

  Despite her humor, a little part of him couldn't help but wonder if she really hadn't responded to the kiss the way he had. But at the same time, he also felt like laughing, and that was a great feeling. The conversation was inane, and he loved feeling like he wanted to chuckle. Not much made him chuckle. "It wasn't my best stuff. I didn't want to lay my best kiss on you, because I wasn't sure you could handle it."

  Her eyebrows went up this time, and she looked at him with interest. "You know, I would expect that your best stuff would probably melt a woman's brain, so I'm thinking it's a good thing that you held back on my behalf."

  He didn't miss the veiled compliment in that comment. He grinned. "If you're cold, I'd be happy to do a little melting and warm you up." Even as he made the offer, he swore to himself. What the hell was he doing? He had no right to be making plays for this woman, ever. Wasn't it only a few seconds ago that he'd gallantly decided not to kiss her anymore, let alone again?

  Before she could answer, he turned away, not giving her the chance to volunteer to test his best stuff. "I'll bring your bags in. Why don't you go find Ava, and figure out where you want me to put them?"

  But before he could make it to the door, Hannah stopped him with her hand on his arm. "No, no, no. That's not necessary. I'm perfectly capable of bringing all her stuff in. I'd feel terrible if you delay your departure any further, and then get stranded in the snow. All I needed was a guide to get me here, and I'm good. So please, don't stay. You can go."

  The sudden urgency in her voice caught his attention. He looked down at her hand still on his arm, then returned his gaze to her face. She wanted him to leave. He wanted to be on his way. But it was zero degrees here, and the house wasn't heated yet. What if it didn't warm up? "You need help unpacking?"

  She gave him an amused look. "Do I? Who do you think packed my trailer?"

  "You?"

  "Of course me." Her fingers tightened on his arm. "Go, Maddox. Seriously."

  He swore under his breath, sensing the genuineness of her request. She wanted him to leave. But he wanted to stay. He wanted to kiss her again. Which meant he had to get the hell out. "Fine—" Then his gaze landed on the three pieces of wood by the wood stove.

  Three pieces of wood for a week-long blizzard?

  They had to be better prepared for that. He nodded at the wood. "I know where the wood is. I'll bring in enough for you to get through the week if you lose power, and then I'll leave."

  "I can do it—"

  "You can't do it all before the storm hits. You unload. I'll get wood." He couldn't look at her again. At the weariness in her eyes. At the lips he'd kissed only moments ago. At this crappy house she was staying in. Because if he let himself see all that, he'd just want to park his ass in their house and be guardian to protect them from everything. And if he did that, it would be the slow path to destroying them both, and he would never, ever destroy any woman the way his father had destroyed his mother.

  "Maddox—"

  "I'm getting the wood." He was
n't going to stay, but he sure as hell was going to make sure they were warm before he left.

  He didn't even turn around as he opened the door, stepped outside, and headed toward the barn, using his truck's headlights to light his path. It would take less than an hour to bring in all the wood they'd need for the week. The snow would be bad by then, but he had chains in his truck. Hell, he used to drive a snowplow for extra money when he was in high school.

  The snow wasn't going to stop him from getting them wood, and it wasn't going to stop him from leaving when he was finished.

  But as he reached the barn and grabbed the door to open it, he couldn't help but look over his shoulder. Hannah was already carrying grocery bags into the house. He looked again at the size of the trailer, and knew it would take days for her to unload it.

  He wanted to stay and help.

  He couldn't.

  His job was wood. Nothing else. Nothing but leaving them before he could break them.

  She wanted Maddox to stay.

  She wanted his help.

  And she didn't like that feeling at all.

  Hannah leaned on the kitchen counter, bowing her head as another wave of exhaustion flooded her. Her muscles were so weak, and her head was throbbing. How much longer could she keep this up? When she'd driven up to the house and seen how dilapidated it was, she'd almost cried right then and there. Only Ava's presence in the backseat had enabled her to put a smile on her face, and happiness in her tone.

  Dear God, Maddox was right about how bad this house was. She'd wanted to get away from the big city and all the dirt, crowds, and reminders of Katie that wouldn't let them go, but this was not what she thought she would get when she rented the house. Her mom had always talked about Rogue Valley, a town she'd driven through as a kid, the one she wished she could have raised her daughters in.

  Hannah had decided to make that dream a reality for the second generation of Crowley daughters...and the ramshackle cabin in the middle of nowhere was so far from what she had expected. How were they ever going to thrive here?

  Hannah closed her eyes, listening to the thuds coming from the back porch as Maddox stacked wood. He'd already made a sizable pile by the woodstove, and had been adding more supplies by the back door for the last thirty-five minutes. It felt so good to hear the sounds of him moving around. She loved knowing that if the roof collapsed right now, he would be there to pull the timbers off them and make sure they were okay.

  She didn't know why she wasn't afraid of him anymore, but she wasn't. Maybe it was because she'd felt a kinship with Lissa, and it was apparent how much Lissa loved him. All she knew was that she felt safer with him around, safe in a way she hadn't felt in a very long time. She had learned not to trust men, repeating that lesson so many times throughout her life, and she'd watched her own family members die because they had trusted the wrong men. She had to show Ava how to be strong on her own, so that Ava would never align herself with a man just because she thought she couldn't do it by herself.

  Which meant the last thing Hannah was going to do was succumb to any wimpiness and ask some stranger to help her out. She was doing just fine. She'd even managed to find the boxes that had Ava's bedding, and the two of them had made Ava's bed, set up her stuffed animals, and started making Ava's room feel like home. The little girl had fallen asleep within moments, buried under a huge pile of blankets, clearly feeling content and safe in their new house, which made Hannah know she had made the right decision by coming here, both to Rogue Valley and to the house.

  But, God, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. She missed her job. She missed her friends. She missed her condo. She missed being in a house that didn't make her wonder how long it would keep standing. She missed everything about Boston.

  And most of all, she missed her sister.

  Tears suddenly filled Hannah's eyes, and the most overwhelming sense of grief seemed to crush her from all sides. She braced her elbows on the counter and buried her face in her hands, trying desperately to hold the tears in, but it felt as if the dam that had locked them up for the last six months was finally springing leaks that she couldn't stop.

  She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to breathe deeply, trying to put her grief, her loneliness, and her fears back in the box she'd kept them locked in so tightly. But there was something about being in this depressing house, with a storm raging around them, that put her over the edge. When Maddox left, it would be completely up to her to find a way to make this work.

  She couldn't do it. She just suddenly knew she couldn't do this.

  "Hannah?" His voice startled her, and she stiffened, horrified that he'd caught her crying.

  She didn't turn around. She couldn't let him see how lost she was. People took advantage of vulnerability and weakness. Instead, she grabbed a box of cereal and put it in the cabinet. "Yes?"

  There was a long pause, so long that she almost turned around...but she didn't. There were still tears glistening on her cheek.

  "I've got enough wood stacked to last for a week without power. The generator looks old, and I don't like that. I'm not sure it's going to come on if you need it."

  No generator? In sub-zero temperatures? Panic started to grip her, but she shook it off. They had wood, so no problem. "We'll be fine, thanks to the wood. I've built many fires in my life." She took a deep breath. "You're amazing, Maddox. I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything." She managed a weak laugh. "I hereby declare you at liberty to get on the road and get out of town before you're stranded here."

  He didn't answer, and she glanced over her shoulder to see if he was still there. The moment her gaze met his green stare, she realized that he knew exactly how upset she was. It was the empathy and understanding on his face, the awareness in his gaze, the stubborn way his arms were folded over his chest.

  Maddox knew, and he cared.

  And she had no idea how to handle that.

  Chapter 8

  Maddox's eyes narrowed, and Hannah felt his inspection as his gaze ran over her. She was still wearing her parka, because the heat had barely made a dent in the Arctic temperature in the house. Maddox had offered to set a fire, but she hadn't wanted one going right before she went to bed. She desperately needed sleep, and she didn't want to have to stay up to watch a fire.

  She stiffened, waiting for his response, for him to declare she had to go to Lissa's. If he did, she wasn't sure she had the strength to refuse, even though she knew Ava needed to set down some roots and find her new place.

  His gaze settled on her face again, assessing. She gave up trying to appear strong, and wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks, to try to clear the tear streaks. She shrugged. "The toughness is all a facade. Don't tell Ava."

  "Tell her what? That you're fierce and strong? I think she knows."

  She sighed, too tired to fight. "I'm neither, and I think we both know it." She waved wearily at the back porch. "I can't thank you enough for the wood. Truly. You'll never know how much it matters to me."

  Maddox watched her for another moment, then shook his head. "I've watched people die of broken souls because they weren't strong enough. You have a fire inside you that you won't let die. I see it."

  There was something so intense about his words that she stood a little taller, suddenly wishing she was actually the woman he saw in her. "I'm not—"

  "Just say thanks."

  There was an edge to his voice that caught her attention. Pain. Grief. Wariness. The argument inside her died, and she simply inclined her head. "Thanks."

  He nodded. "I have to go. The storm's getting pretty fierce."

  Fear flickered through her, a sudden intense feeling of vulnerability at the thought of him leaving. Don't leave. The plea shot through her mind, silent, hidden, unacknowledged. She didn't need him to stay and take care of her. She could handle it, and she needed to show Ava exactly how capable two badass females could be. So, she nodded. "Yes, I can feel it shaking the house. How long is your drive?"
r />   "About six hours, without snow. Tonight, it'll probably take twice that, depending on how far south the storm is stretching right now."

  Guilt flashed over her. "I'm sorry you had to stay—"

  "My choice. I don't regret it." He studied her face again, his gaze so intense that she felt it burning over her. "You're sure you're okay?"

  "Fine. Just tired." She pushed herself off the counter. "I have all the perishables put away, so I'll head to bed when you leave."

  He still didn't move from the doorway. "How much stuff is still in the trailer?"

  "I got everything we need for now. The rest can wait."

  He still didn't move, and suddenly, the old kitchen seemed to shrink, and she became aware that they were alone, only a couple yards apart. The brim of his cowboy hat was lined with snow, and white fluff was piled up on his shoulders and arms. He looked solid and strong, undeterred by the last hour of hauling firewood through a blizzard. He seemed to be all the strength that she didn't seem to have.

  He finally levered himself off the door and walked toward her. She stiffened, drawing herself up to her full height as he neared, but she still had to crane her neck to keep eye contact. He came to a stop directly in front of her, his heated gaze burning through her. "You're shivering."

  She nodded. "It's cold."

  "It's not so cold in here anymore." He lifted his hand and set it against her cheek. His hand felt so cool that she almost sighed. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she leaned into his touch, suddenly too tired to hold her head up. Just for one moment, one tiny moment, she let herself lean into him.

  He swore under his breath, and set his other hand on her forehead. The cool touch felt so good. "Your skin's on fire."