Lies And Lullabies: Courting the Cowboy Boss

“That’s pretty cynical.”

“But accurate.”

He wanted to argue, but he didn’t have a leg to stand on. Mellie had pegged him pretty well. “So that’s a no?” Never in a million years would he admit that her harsh assessment of his motives stung. Most women in this situation would be all over him.

But he was rapidly learning that Mellie Winslow was not most women.

She shrugged. “Let’s take it a day at a time. This flu isn’t going to go away overnight. Maybe you’ll have the opportunity to rethink your invitation.”

“Don’t go,” he said gruffly. He wanted her here...under his roof. In a way he hadn’t wanted anything in a very long time. “It’s not like I can seduce you. I can barely hold my head up.”

* * *

Mellie shivered, though the kitchen was warm. He was doing it again. Winnowing away her good intentions. Trying to pretend that he wasn’t the Big Bad Wolf and Mellie a wretchedly willing Red Riding Hood.

“I can’t stay the night.” That was a lie. She could. But she wouldn’t.

“A movie, then. I’m sick of lying in bed.”

“Such a touching offer. I’m better than boredom.”

“You have a smart mouth.”

She took pity on him. Beneath his masculine swagger, he was the color of milk. “I’ll stay for a while.”

“Good.”

When he got to his feet, she moved closer and slipped an arm around his waist, inhaling the smell of warm male. “I don’t want to scrape you off the floor again.”

He chuckled, the low sound making her catch her breath. “Is that how I got the knot on my skull?”

“Let’s just say that you were not the best patient last night.”

He kissed the top of her head casually, as if they were an old married couple wandering down the hall to watch a favorite TV program. “You’re more than I deserve.”

“Damn straight.” Making Case Baxter laugh was fast becoming her life’s work. But it was either that or give in to the urge to join the handsome, bad-to-the-bone cowboy in his bed.

They had their next argument in the den. Case collapsed on the expensive leather sofa and crooked an arrogant finger. “Come sit with me, Mellie.”

“I’ll be fine right here.” She snagged a spot on the matching love seat, a safe distance away from the heavy-eyed male. “Have you taken your medicine?”

He scowled at her. “Is that all you can talk about? You’re a broken record.”

“I’ll get it,” she said wryly. Clearly, he was feeling like roadkill and didn’t want to admit it.

When she returned after gathering what she needed from his bedroom and the bathroom, Case was holding the remote, his expression moody as he channel surfed. She put a hand on his forehead, not surprised to find it ferociously hot.

“Take these.” She shook a couple of caplets into her palm and held out a glass of water.

“I feel fine.”

His big body radiated tension. They had entered dangerous territory. Case was physically frustrated, not only from sexual arousal but because his brain was writing a check his body couldn’t cash. As far as she could tell, he was holding himself upright by sheer stubbornness.

She nudged his knee, keeping her tone light and gentle. “Be reasonable, and I’ll sit with you. You can put your head in my lap.”

It was the perfect opening for some of his sharp-edged sexual innuendo. The fact that he said nothing worried her. He must feel worse than she realized.

When he finished the glass of water—and in the process downed his meds—he stretched full-length on the sofa. Mellie sat down as promised, stroking the hair from his forehead. “Do you really want to watch a movie?” she asked.

He shook his head without opening his eyes. “No. I feel like hell.”

“Okay, then...”

After a few seconds, Case’s breathing deepened, and she knew he had fallen asleep. The old house creaked and popped as it settled for the night. On the mantel, a beautiful clock ticked away the minutes.

The moment was surreal. How had she and Case transcended so many social barriers so quickly? She was the hired help. He was the rich cowboy. He had one failed marriage behind him. She’d always been too afraid of loss to give marriage a try.

Yet here they were. As intimate together as if they had already become lovers.

With nothing else to command her attention, she traced the shell of his ear with her fingertip, trying to imagine what he would be like in bed. Healthy. Vigorous. Demanding.

She pressed her legs together, her insides shaking with what could only be described as lust. Delicious, quivery, melting need. Heaven help her when Case was back to his old self.

Right now he was like some brilliant sun dimmed by a dust storm. The essence of the arrogant cowboy was still there but muted. The reduced kilowatts made it possible for her to keep up her guard. Maybe it was his vulnerability that stripped away her defenses and misgivings. Perhaps Case Baxter had seduced her without even trying.

The evening waned along with her need to hold him at bay. Would she end up sharing his bed? Why shouldn’t she? Becoming Case’s lover might well turn out to be the highlight of her adult life.

She knew most of the available men in Royal. Not one of them had sparked more than a fleeting interest in her over the years. So maybe she was destined to be happily single, a focused businesswoman, a dutiful daughter and a generous friend.

Living alone was not a dreadful thought. She understood Case in that respect. There was something to be said for peace and quiet and the chance to spend time with your thoughts. Case valued his privacy. Mellie valued her independence. It was a match made in heaven.

Temporary. Wildly enjoyable. Mutually satisfying.

Regretfully, the two of them were not going to get intimate tonight.

At nine o’clock she eased out from under her not-unwelcome burden and stood to stretch the kinks out of her muscles. Case never made a sound. He was deeply asleep.

His chin was shadowed with the beginnings of a dark beard. Even though she had seen him numerous times with his customary scruffy facial hair, now he looked far less civilized.

She felt guilty for leaving him like this. Still, he was a grown man and she was under no obligation, ethically or otherwise, to stay. Parker Reese would check on him eventually.

After tidying the kitchen and gathering her things, she slipped out the front door and locked it behind her. Unfortunately, when she arrived at home, she found her father sitting on the doorstep again.

Nine (#u047f3563-69a3-5384-8cea-74b4d0356db5)

She greeted him with a grimace. “It’s late, Dad. What do you want?”

He didn’t even offer to help her carry anything into the house. Which, unfortunately, was typical. Harold Winslow spent most of his time worrying about Harold Winslow.