Page 150 of Cowboy Daddies

Luther:

?

Me:

MY Liv!!!

Luther:

Well, well, well, what do you know. Is she all right?

Me:

Fine. Sleeping.

Luther:

Do you need me to come to the hospital?

Me:

No. I got this.

His response was immediate and had me pulling one of a Little’s favorite tricks and rolling my eyes at a smiley-face emoji—the one with hearts where its eyes were supposed to be. Still, it also made me grin.

Chapter Ten

Livvy

While I was very relieved when Lincoln had assured me the only thing my car had murdered was his fence, I felt like I’d been the one run over by every single four-legged Disney character–who then reversed direction in order to run over me again. There wasn’t a muscle in my body that didn’t ache and my head and ankle were throbbing like they were in competition to win the regional high school drum-line trophy. Oh, and go ahead and throw in the fact that I was burning up.

I shifted to throw the weight of the blankets off me—only what my hand encountered wasn’t a quilt. I opened my eyes to stare not at my sunny yellow pillowcase but at an expanse of blue. An expanse broken by a vee promising far more than cotton sheets lay beneath it.

Not a fever then

A man.

And may I say—what a man!

“No, you may not!” I scolded silently though I secretly had to agree. The man whose chest I’d been using like a mattress wasn’t anywhere near as soft as one. His chest was broad and firm against mine, his arms were as rigid as any seatbelt around me, and his thighs were as solid as rocks beneath me. When I shifted to sit back a bit, I discovered I could throw “hard as wood” into the equation.

I’d never been more appreciative of the fact I could claim my sore neck as an actual reason not to lift my head. Not that I minded the feel of the bulge beneath my butt, but because I didn’t want to let the man know exactly how happy seeing it made me. He’d spent the entire day helping me and didn’t deserve to have me grinding against him and…

Who do you think you’re fooling? What’s that song? Oh, right, “Save a Horse⁠—”

I had to admit, she wasn’t entirely out of line as that was exactly the song that had just popped into my head⁠—

“Are you singing?”

My head snapped back while I simultaneously planted my palms against his chest and shoved. I’d only meant to move off his cock but wound up slipping into the gap between the table and bench, my butt hanging out into space, and yelling, “Owwwweeeee,” as I tried to scramble to grab the table top for support.

“Well, that’s one way to dismount I suppose,” Lincoln said and then chuckled even as he reached for me.

My face flamed and as much as I wanted to fall back into his arms—then preferably continue falling through a giant hole in the ground—I just couldn’t. Not when I felt something wet spreading across my butt.

If there was even a remote chance that I hadn’t yet made a big enough fool of myself, it disappeared with the knowledge that I’d just wet myself. I had no clue how to cope with this so did the only thing left to ensure he never wanted to see me, much less touch me. I burst into tears… again.

Funny thing though, his eyes didn’t narrow into slits to glare at me. He didn’t hiss for me to stop embarrassing him. He didn’t shove me the rest of the way off his lap before sliding out of the booth to walk toward the door. Nope, not Lincoln. Like his ancestors before him, he did the only thing he could…