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“You’ll stay here. You’re right. The trailer isn’t big enough for you and a huge dog.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He turned and whistled. Gilley lifted his leg before he came running. He jumped up on Corbin and gave him a sloppy kiss that made him laugh. “Okay, okay. You can sleep in Tay’s condo.”
“Now wait just one second,” Belle said. “I’m not staying here.”
Corbin looked at her, his gaze intense. “Why not? Are you afraid if you stay you’ll want more than kisses from me, Bella?”
She willed the tingle in her tummy away. “Absolutely not.”
“Then what’s the problem? It’s not like we’ll be sleeping in the same room.”
Just the thought of sleeping in the same room with Corbin had the tingle returning tenfold. She had two choices. Confess, not only to Corbin but also to herself, that she had somehow become infatuated with him. Or act like staying the night was no big deal.
“Fine. But only because it’s late and the hotels are probably full. So staying would be a smart choice.”
Corbin turned and muttered something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like . . .
“Sorta like licorice ice cream.”
Chapter Thirteen
Corbin woke feeling groggy and annoyed.
He hadn’t slept well, and it was his own damn fault. What was he thinking inviting Belle to spend the night? Had he lost his mind?
No, just his guts.
The thought of her staying in a disreputable hotel wasn’t the only reason he’d insisted she stay at the ranch. He was terrified of staying at the ranch without someone who knew what they were doing. Not for himself, but for Sunny.
He was the one who had caused his sister’s injury. The one who insisted on stopping to rest in a nest of pheasants. If Hank or Jesse, or any of the Holidays, had been there, they would have known better and Sunny wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Corbin couldn’t chance her getting hurt again . . . even if he had to put up with Belle until Darla, Hank, and Mimi got back.
Or until he could find himself a foreman.
He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. Probably because he’d been so tied up in proving he could become the next Clint Eastwood. Sunny getting hurt had been a reality check. He needed help if he wanted to own a ranch. Experienced help. He would start looking for a foreman today.
A whine had him rolling to his other side. A big furry head rested on the mattress only inches away. Soulful hazel eyes, that looked more human than dog, stared back at him. Corbin hadn’t really wanted the dog sleeping in his room. He’d only offered to get Belle to stay. But as soon as they entered the house last night, the dog had streaked up the stairs and stuffed himself into Tay’s condo. The kitten usually slept on a pillow right next to Corbin. But as soon as he’d placed her on the pillow, she’d jumped off the bed and scaled to the top of the condo where she’d spent the entire night.
The cat/dog relationship was weird to say the least. Especially when Gilley seemed to be terrified of the kitten. And yet, he couldn’t seem to stay away. Maybe he just thought it was safer to keep his enemies close.
Corbin reached out and scratched the dog’s head. “Smart dog.”
Gilley whined again. Realizing he wasn’t going to get any more sleep, Corbin got up and pulled on a pair of jeans. Tay was still sleeping peacefully so he left her and headed down the stairs with Gilley.
The sun was just peeking its head over the horizon when he stepped out on the porch. Corbin had to admit it was a pretty sight to see the pink-tinted land—his land—stretched out for as far as the eye could see. After Sunny had gotten hurt, he’d started to worry that he’d made a big mistake. He still worried. But the sight of the sun rising over the ranch caused those worries to fade away.
As Gilley raced down the steps to take care of his morning needs, Corbin raised his arms over his head and stretched, enjoying the feel of the morning breeze on his bare chest.
A soft exhalation had him freezing mid-yawn and turning.
Belle sat on the porch swing in a short white nightie that showed off her long legs. Her hair was mussed and her eyes sleepy like she’d just rolled out of bed. As his gaze wandered over her, he realized that’s exactly what she’d done. She’d just rolled out of bed. A bed that had been only a short walk down the hall from where he’d slept.
“Good mornin’.” Even her voice soundly sleepy and sexy.
Sexy?
Where had that word come from? And once there, it didn’t want to leave. Probably because it was the exact word to describe the woman sitting in the swing cradling a mug in her hands.
