“Okay. What’s that?”
His hands came to rest on my thighs, parting my legs easily, settling his dense, heavy frame right into the cradle of my hips until the rigid length of his morning erection pressed firmly against my soft center.
“Rule #50: Move in with the mountain man who’s crazy about you.”
The world stopped.
“Bridger.” I placed my hands on his chest.
“I’m serious, Roxie. Stay here. With me.” His thumbs stroked over the tops of my thigh. “I made a few rules of my own. Rule # 1: What I find, I keep. And I found you.”
“I was kind of forced on you.”
“No, you weren’t. Do you honestly think I’d have let just anyone invade my life? I would have found you somewhere else to stay.”
“Like Lou’s tire bay?” I shook my head, trying to come to terms with what he had just said. What he had just offered. “This is insane.”
“I know.” His hands tightened on my thighs. “But I don’t care. I want you here. In my house. In my bed. In my life. You can start over. Whatever you want. Just do it here.”
The practical part of my brain—the part that had survived eight years in corporate America on sheer stubbornness—tried to raise its hand.You have no job and no plan.
“I don’t have anything figured out,” I said. “I don’t even know what I’d do here. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a chainsaw artist.”
Something shifted in his expression. “You don’t have to have it figured out. That’s the whole point of starting over. What did you actually want to do? Before the corporate job ate you alive.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
The honest answer surprised me. “Write. I always wanted to write. I just talked myself out of it because it wasn’t practical.”
“Lone Mountain’s quiet,” he said simply. “Good place to write.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling his head down. “I think rule fifty is my new favorite.”
“So you’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay.”
The smile that broke across his face was devastating. Then he was kissing me, and I tasted the promise on his lips. “I’m in love with you,” he said quietly. “Just so you know.”
“I’m in love with you too,” I whispered.
“Good.” He kissed me again, softer this time. “Because I wasn’t letting you leave anyway.”
I laughed. “So, the whole rule thing was just a formality?”
“Wanted to give you the illusion of choice.”
“Very generous of you.”
“I’m a generous man.”
“Yes, you are,” I purred, tangling my fingers in his hair. “Very generous.”
Before I knew what was happening, he tossed me over his shoulder in one smooth motion. I laughing. “Bridger. You can’t keep doing this.”
“Why not?” He gave my ass a firm, possessive squeeze that made me gasp as he marched up the stairs. He carried me down the hall and into his bedroom.
Our bedroom.
