Page 29 of Rescued By the Mountain Man Cowboy
He takes his last bite and leans back in his chair, chewing. Still keeping his eyes off me, he answers, “Thirteen years.”
“You retired early?” I ask, thinking he’s too young to have already done so, but also, he doesn’t seem to have any apparent injuries for medical discharge.
Finally. There they are. Deep, green eyes, framed by obnoxiously thick, dark lashes. With his hat off, his dark blonde hair is unruly at the top, but on the sides, he keeps it short. The thick stubble is intentional, and with all the tattoos, he’s giving off major bad boy vibes.
Scratch that, he is most definitely not a boy. Luke Davis is all man. Masculine. Alluring. Temping. Dangerous for my neglected libido.
“Chatty all a sudden,” he remarks.
“You prefer me quiet and whimpering in fear?” I ask, feeling parts of my old self again.
There’s that twitch at the corner of those full lips.
“I saw enough shit in my time. Didn’t see myself advancing to Special Forces. Wanted a change. Mable and Harold put out an ad. Found it seven years ago, interviewed with Gabe, and haven’t looked back since.”
I nod, digesting what he’s offered. “Family?” I ask, carefully folding my sandwich wrapper for the trash.
He pauses, watching me. I keep myself from squirming under his intense stare.
“A brother,” he says in a way that sounds like it cost him to share.
“Older or younger?”
“Younger. You?” he asks.
I half-grin. “Only child.”
We sit quietly, watching each other.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. “After earlier?”
I take note of my body. “Good.” I’m not sore or anything.
“Good,” he nods and gets up, crumpling his wrapper.
Luke takes mine and tosses them both in the trash. I get up and start unpacking the groceries he left on the counter.
Luke joins me, and we work efficiently, side by side.
I put things away where I believe they should go. Luke follows behind and removes the item I placed, putting it elsewhere that makes absolutely no sense. It becomes a game I don’t realize I initiate.
I fight laughter every time Luke doesn’t say a single word, but just repeats the action of taking something he clearly doesn’t want placed where I put it, and takes it elsewhere.
Instinct tells me he’s allowing it because he notices it’s bringing me joy. And if that doesn’t cause problems for my blossoming crush.
Choosing to take him out of his misery, I lean back against the island. “How about this?” I start, waiting for his attention.
Luke places the last of the grains he bought in the small pantry before mirroring my posture across from me.
“You’re doing me this huge favor. In return, I’ll take over meals,” I offer, pursing my lips from smiling.
Luke’s eyes narrow. “You don’t like my cooking?” he asks so seriously, I fear for a second I’ve offended him.
Then he obliterates my ovaries and grins. A full on playful grin.
I laugh unexpectedly, causing his grin to widen. “I’ll just say, you’re welcome, in advance.”
Laughing, I walk off to take a shower.
