Page 86 of Last Chance Cowboy
“Your place?”
“Yes. Tonight. You should come spend the night with me. We can sit in my yard, and we can look at the stars. You know, for the purposes of my wilderness skills.”
“Sure,” he said.
He didn’t know if he should say yes to that. He should probably say no. He should probably go back home. They had sex, and that was supposed to be the point of this connection.
He didn’t spend the night with lovers. Ever.
A habit that had formed pretty early on.
When he lived with his grandparents, he was recovering from the loss of his family. He hadn’t actually had sex for the first time until he was in the military. When they would have R&R, go to the local bars around basic, there were plenty of women who wanted a military man, and it was why they were there.
So he did indulge himself. They wanted hookups, and he was happy to oblige. It was an easy thing to do, and it had formed the pattern for the way that he did things.
That culture had been even stronger in the rodeo.
There were women who just wanted to hook up with the cowboys.
There was no expectation they would spend the night. Wham Bam thank you, ma’am was the entire point.
And for him, it had given him the chance to taste something fleeting, a little bit of connection, without having to get deep.
Without having to make it intense.
So the idea of spending the night…
Well, he wanted it. The bottom line was, he wanted it because he wanted hours with her in a bed.
And he was already making bad decisions where she was concerned. Already making bad decisions about all of this, so why not?
Why not?
“I’ll cook you dinner,” she said.
“All right.”
He felt a little bit like that stray dog he often imagined himself as when he was at the ranch dinners, where the Grayson family would have him over, he would’ve said it was the feeling that he preferred. Like they built a plate for the stray, and he got to be in the corner, being as standoffish as he wanted to be, while also being on the perimeter of things.
This felt a little like that, but also different.
She was bringing the stray into her house. And he felt like an animal that had no idea what to do with that.
Had no idea what to do with the idea of receiving something soft and sweet.
It wasn’t in him.
Sure as hell wasn’t his experience otherwise.
“You should probably drive your own truck,” she said.
“Probably.”
“Or don’t.”
He ground his teeth together. Would anybody notice if his truck were here all night? Better actually to leave her car here. Because there might be questions about what she had been doing, but it wouldn’t be connected back to him.
“How about I drive?”
