Page 45 of The Widow and the Wanted

He stares at the pot a long moment. “Yeah, all right.”

He meanders over, falling into a chair and rubbing his face with both hands. His cropped hair is flattened where the hat had pressed.

“No game moving. Wind out there near blew my face clean off. Horse is eatin’ hay like God quit makin’ it. We lose that horse, we’re a special kind of fucked.”

Lula pours him a cup, gentler than he deserves after all his noise. “This should help some.”

“Sure this ain’t gonna turn me to lumber?”

“I’m reasonably sure.”

Chapter 14

Boone

Another week passes, and the days smear together into routine.

Mornings, I walk the perimeter with the rifle easy in my hands. Check the traps. Hunt if the weather allows. Clean whatever I kill and bring it back by afternoon for Lula to turn into something worth eating.

In the afternoon, Okee and I steal a few minutes alone in the lean-to. Today we circle the yard slow, checking where the drifts stack hard against the fence. Don’t see nothing moving but the horse switching her tail and the smoke off the chimney getting tugged east by the wind.

I duck inside to check the mare’s tack straps where they hang from the peg. Okee follows, shutting the half-door behind him against the wind. The horse lifts her head and blows steam, then goes back to nosing at the hay.

Okee runs a hand down the mare’s shoulder. He’s got his hat pushed back a little, black hair loose down his shoulders, mouth set in that flat serious line he wears when he’s thinking ahead. I like him best like this. When he’s using that smart head of his to see us looked after, and he don’t know how damn handsome he is for it. Or he does, and he hopes to torture me with it. Either way, my body notices.

He catches me looking.

“What?” he asks.

I grin and step closer. “Just admirin’ the stable boy.”

He snorts. “I ought to teach you some manners for that.”

The warning in it sends a jolt through me, and I damn near grin myself stupid. “Oh? How do you intend to do that?”

One big hand comes up and braces on the wood beside my head, caging me in. My breath catches as he leans close enough for his lips to brush that tender place under my ear. His voice drops low, rough as sand. “I could make a proper mess of you right here. Bend you over that saddle rack, yank your trousers down, and lick you open until you’re begging me to fuck you proper.” He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, that wicked half smirk still playing on his mouth. “Think you can handle that?”

“I don’t know, maybe we should try and find out.”

Okee’s half smirk turns into a full smile before he backs off and goes back to tending the horse.

The tease.

He turns back to the mare like nothing happened, running his hand down her flank again.

Lord, that mouth of his.

“Now that’s cruel.”

The horse shifts and bumps my shoulder with her nose, impatient for more hay. I scratch between her ears and step around her neck till I’m close enough to Okee to feel the heat of him through our coats.

He takes a step back. “Boone.”

I put a hand on his waist.

“Boone,” he says again, lower now, because he knows exactly what kind of fool I am. “Don’t kiss me out here. Lula’s always watching from the window.”

I glance toward the cabin wall like I might see through it. “She ain’t.”