Page 37 of Love in Overdrive

Laney lay back on the cushions, trying to keep her brain from wandering to lustful thoughts of Cade. His feather-light touch was strictly clinical, but that didn’t stop her mind from feeling it all the way up her leg to her feminine parts. She’d been ready to strip off her clothes and he’d only touched her calf.

He might be her hero, but a hot, sexy, ex-military guy was not on her self-improvement course. And darn if she’d let a man derail her. Even if he was over six-feet of the most splendid male she’d ever laid eyes on.

Laney sighed and flung an arm over her face. She could hear Addison and Marti’s voices chattering in her head like little devils on her shoulders.

“You deserve to enjoy such a glorious male feast,” Little Addison said.

Little Marti chimed in, “Self-improvement is one thing, but this stud is another. Look at it as improving your sex life. That’s self-improvement.”

Laney turned on her side and punched the pillow. They were no help. She would have to stay strong on her own.

A yawn snuck up on her. Today, they’d walked miles and miles through the snow, up and down inclines. She hadn’t been this exhausted since Addison talked her into trying that ninety-day high intensity workout last year.

Cade was chivalrous in offering her the couch, but she didn’t plan on hogging it all night. She’d get up, check the fire, and switch with him. Even if he resisted.

Laney removed her other shoe, and set the now leaking ice bag on the floor. She pulled up the Native American blanket. “Wow. Beautiful craftsmanship. Heavy. Scratchy. Wool.”

She yawned again. Her mind bounced from the bold pattern on the textile to the man gathering wood.

No way she’d let him stay up all night so she could sleep. Surely, he was sore from the fight in the car. He needed sleep too. And as soon as he came back with the next load of wood, she’d tell him that.

Laney snuggled into the warmth of the blanket while she waited. She rubbed the gravel from her eyes. Stay awake. “He’ll be back any second.”

Cade inhaled, letting the crisp air cool his blood. Not to mention his blooming erection. Talking to her, watching her chew her food… Fuck, touching her leg. He was a dog.

He shook out his arms and rolled his head. She was injured. He needed to keep it in his pants. On an exhale, he grabbed as many logs as his arms could hold and jumped over the loose step. He did it for the fire. True, but also to work off this lust for Laney coursing through his veins.

No rush. He had her name and where she worked. He wouldn’t lose her again. With one more quick reminder to himself to play it cool, he opened the door, maneuvered the bulky load inside, and kicked the door shut.

He zeroed in on her the second he entered the tiny cabin.

She was out cold.

Good. She needed the sleep, but Cade couldn’t help but notice how sexy she was in slumber… her dark lashes… those full, ripe lips begging to be kissed. Sweet and sensual at the same time.

She’s injured—some honorable part of him reminded.

Cade tore his gaze from her sleeping form and placed the wood in the copper holder on the hearth. She didn’t flinch. She looked so peaceful all sprawled out, with her rosy cheeks and her hair partially covering her face. She looked like a starfish, a damn cute starfish.

What the hell? Cade shook his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he watched a woman sleep. And the flowery phrases floating through his mind, shit. He’d just met this woman, and he was ready to spout poetry.

Scratching his chin, he tried to remember an instance where he watched his former girlfriend sleep. Had he ever thought she looked sweet and innocent, like a fragile butterfly that had just landed? Never.

“This is crazy. I must be tired. My brain's turned to mush.” He ran both hands through his hair.

Cade picked up a log in each hand and laid them on the low fire. Stoking the flames with an iron poker, he worked the logs into a roaring fire. He turned back to the woman on the couch. He watched her fully-clothed chest rise and fall… the air moving in and out of her lips. With each exhale, the tension in his body released.

This woman. He barely knew her, but he would. If Cade had anything to say about it, he’d learn every little thing about her.

Cade removed his boots and coat and pulled the quilt up around her shoulders. He brushed her hair from her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. His lips tingled with memories of the kiss they shared at the bar. Not tonight.

As quietly as possible, he turned the chair, backing it against the wall beside the fire. After one more check of the cabin, he stretched out.

Cade learned to sleep light and fast, and he was out in minutes.

***

Nineties country blocked out her words, but the way her lips tipped in response, Cade was getting lucky tonight.