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“Why?”
“Let’s just say I owe you one. You took care of me that first night, remember?”
She wasn’t sure he’d heard a word she said. “A kiss. Please, Doc. One kiss.”
“Personally, I can’t stand Scotch, Cowboy, and you’ll likely taste like a barrel of it. So I’ll pass on the kiss.”
“I said I want a kiss.” He grabbed her arm, pulled her onto the bed, and rolled on top of her.
“Mmmpphh,” Annie said.
His mouth clamped onto hers. She opened to him in spite of herself. Intoxication clearly didn’t inhibit his kissing abilities. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue danced around hers. He did taste like Scotch, but it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all. Because he also tasted like Dallas. Like the man she loved.
The thought that crept into her mind jerked her out of the kiss. She wasn’t in love with him. She couldn’t be. God, he doesn’t even want me. She pushed him away. It wasn’t difficult, considering his condition.
“Get off of me,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding.
He lay sprawled on the bed again. “I’ve missed you.”
“Have you now?”
“Yeah. I think about you all the time. I can’t stop. It’s driving me insane.” He pulled at his hair. “Even the Scotch doesn’t stop it.”
“You’ve had enough Scotch,” Annie said.
“Nope. Need mo
re. Need to pass out.”
“Oh, you will,” Annie said, “but you’ll probably have to throw up first.”
“Nah. I never throw up. I’m sensible. I don’t drink enough to throw up. Never have. Chad and Zach, they threw up. I had to take care of both of them, keep it from our pa. He would’ve whooped their asses.”
“That was you, huh? The sensible big brother?”
“Yep. Always the sensible one. Never made the same”—he hiccupped—“mistake twice.”
“All right. No more talking now. I’m going to run you a bath. You need one.”
“Only if you get in with me.” He pawed for her.
“Not a chance. While the water’s filling up I’ll go to the kitchen and brew you some coffee. Which you will drink, do you hear me?”
“Yes’m.”
She took the bottle from the night stand. “This is going in the trash, and you’re not to touch any more of the stuff, capiche?”
“Capiche. That’s cute. You’re so cute, Doc.”
“You’re not going to think I’m cute when I get done with you. Stay here.”
She started a bath in Dallas’s luxurious jetted tub and then went down to the kitchen to make the coffee.
By the time she got back, Dallas was sitting on the side of the bed. “Remember how I said I never throw up?”
“Ugh. Don’t tell me. Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom. Quickly.”
She pulled him off the bed, walked him to the bathroom, and stood him in front of the toilet. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not watch.” She closed the door and left the bedroom. She didn’t want to hear it either. Ten minutes later, she returned.
