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Had I?
Had he?
Had we?
My eyes flew open and as I pushed up on my elbows I saw that I was wearing his T-shirt. It was one that I’d “borrowed” from him but had no plans of returning. I loved wearing his shirt to bed.
Bed. I was in bed. And he was in my room. Daylight was shining in through the slats of wooden blinds. He said he stayed the night.
All of those context clues told me that Cash must’ve taken me home. But I had zero recollection of that happening. The last thing I remembered was my brother Billy telling me that Hank had called a family meeting.
What happened after that?
“Are you okay?” he asked and I noted the sexy rasp in his voice. It got all husky when he hadn’t got much sleep.
Why hadn’t he slept?
“Cheyenne?”
“Sorry?” I blinked. “My head hurts.”
“It hurts so bad you screamed?”
“No.” I lifted my hand and squinted up at him. “I stabbed myself with my shoe when I tried to turn off the alarm.”
Now that the adrenaline had subsided the symptoms I’d been experiencing came back. My head pounded, my palm throbbed, and my stomach turned. I plopped back against the pillow and closed my eyes.
When I felt the heat of his touch as he cradled my hand in his, my lids popped right back open. I watched as he examined my injury closely. The roughened callous on his thumb brushed against the sensitive skin on my wrist and lower palm. His heated touch spread up my arm and curled in bliss in my lower belly.
How could a simple touch feel that good?
How was that even possible?
My breaths were coming in shorter pants as he concluded his thorough inspection and lowered my arm gently back onto the bed.
He stared down at me, his piercing blue eyes surrounded by a bed of dark lashes. For the briefest—most glorious—of moments I was sure that he was going to bend down and kiss me.
Yes!I inwardly cheered. It’s finally happening!
But alas, he did not. Instead, he backed away from me.
“Breakfast is ready downstairs,” he clipped before turning to leave.
There were so many questions whizzing through my head.
Did we spend the night together?
Did we sleep together?
Did we have sex?
But when I opened my mouth the one that came out was one that I already knew the answer to.
“You made breakfast?”
He stilled and glanced over his shoulder. The left side of his mouth turned up in a lop-sided half grin that I’d loved since we were kids.
“I knew that you’d be hurting this morning. I left you water and medicine on the nightstand. Come down when you’re ready to.”
