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“Because it ain’t proper.”
She stares at me like I’m crime scene evidence and she’s a forensic scientist, trying to find a clue.
“Why is it not proper?”
“Because I don’t want to take a woman I just met to bed in a hotel room just because it’s fun.”
This causes her to sit up, wide-eyed.
“Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re one of those purity types.”
“Nah, that ain’t it. I was just raised to believe that a man should protect a woman’s reputation.”
“A little late for that, Sam. I’m a mess.”
I turn and cover both her warm hands with mine, which has the added advantage of keeping her caresses at bay. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. That’s a part of the whole protecting a woman’s reputation thing. I have to stop you from running yourself down. It’s not allowed.”
Her cringe makes my heart squeeze and I don’t know what to say.
“I don’t need your protection. I just want… I don’t know… I just like to be close to you—is that wrong?”
I reply weakly, “I’m too old. You shouldn’t be wasting your life on an old man.”
The look in her eyes pains me. “Now who’s running themselves down?”
But she needs to be reminded of the truth. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Why would you want to get involved with me?”
She chuckles. “Well it ain’t your personality, that’s for sure.”
Damn if that doesn’t make me bust out laughing. Again.
“Wren, the more you make me laugh the more I want to kiss you again.”
Her hand slips out of mine and works its way up my thigh. “Then calm your tits, man. Maybe all we need here is some company during these unbearably boring evenings.” Her lips land on my cheek, just in front of my ear.
Damn. That feels good.
“What if we develop feelings for each other? Then what? I’m supposed to take you home to my ranch?”
She murmurs in my ear, “Maybe. Or maybe all I want is you to hold me and tell me everything is going to be OK.”
I turn to face her. “I can do that.”
“Prove it.”
So I do. I see no harm in simply holding her until she falls asleep.
Moments later she’s wrapped up in my arms, her head nested in the crook of my arm.
She cuddles up close to me and stretches one arm across my middle, pulling herself in closer. The noises she makes are kinda sweet. Like she’s settling in for a long winter’s nap after a tough day, and she’s found her favorite spot. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was a wispy fairy, or a flower I have to be careful not to crush.
Wren may look like and feel like a flittering little creature, bouncing from one thing to the next, but it seems to me that what she needs a soft place to land. She needs a strong, secure tree in which to build her nest. I can be that for her. I want to be that for her. A lesser man might win her heart and try to control all that boundless energy. Or lasso it to suit his own needs. Put out her flame, or redirect it to make him more and her less.
As I lie with her in my arms and listen to her breathing, feeling her warm breath against my chest, I know I can’t deny the truth. I can’t stomach the idea of anyone else being this close to her. Not physically, not emotionally.
I’m not an emotional man, but I know right now that’s about to change.
Wren is about to change everything for me.
