Free I am Not Your Melody: (steamy cowboy romance) by Shoshanna Evers

least for now. “I think I need to take a nap and charge my phone before I can go back to start cleaning up the bar,” she admitted. “Is that…okay?”
    “Are you asking my permission to fall asleep?” The anger faded from his face, and he raised an eyebrow in amusement.
    Allie laughed at the absurdity of it. “I guess I was,” she said. “I thought you’d like that…” Ooh, that sounded a touch too flirty. She tamped it down a notch. “I need to get out of the heels.”
    Not much better. What was it about the heat of an argument that made Bill seem so…sexy to her? It must be his testosterone rising — she could sense it. Hormones, nothing more. She kicked off her heels right where she stood, and picked them up to bring into her room.
    Bill looked at her. “Now you’re even tinier,” he mused. “You’re gonna get a crick in your neck starin’ up at me all the time like that, you know.”
    He was too handsome for his own good. Thank goodness he was an asshole as well — that made it easier not to want to mix business with pleasure. Though Allie couldn’t ignore the tiny voice inside that suggested a little fling after the painful separation from her former husband would be nice. As long as she didn’t let her heart get involved. And as long as they kept the business out of it.
    No. Bill was clearly still tortured by memories of Melody. He probably had no desire to start up a “friends with benefits” sort of deal. But were they ever friends at all? Or had they gone from emailing about business to flirting online? But he sure looked like he’d be amazing in bed.
    Stop that.
    She turned and walked into her room and shut the door. As long as she could actually sleep in this stranger’s house (that’s what he was, no need to think otherwise), in his dead wife’s bed, then she’d be ready to tackle cleaning up the mess she could now proudly call fifty percent her own. And no matter what, she absolutely wouldn’t let herself dream about how amazing working with Bill would be, if only they could both avoid either killing each other, or sleeping with each other.
    Either one seemed like a real possibility at this point.
    ***
    Bill sat heavily on the couch in the living room, his hand automatically running across the cracks in the leather along the back. The leather was seriously beat up, with worn spots and scratches. The nice thing about it, though, was at least no one was afraid of messing it up. When the guys came ‘round to visit and fill him in on the goings-on at the ranch, they were glad to have a place to kick up their cowboy boots after a long day on the mountain or working with the cattle.
    It was a bit early in the season for the fireplace, but staring into the dancing flames always soothed his soul. It was better than TV (at least he thought so, but then again he didn’t have a TV). The only problem with sitting on his couch was the vantage point: looking straight at the room where Allie slept.
    How many nights had he done the same thing, over two years ago? Just staring at that shut door, wishing his wife would come out and simply… sit on that busted couch with him. It wasn’t fair to expect her to love him the way he did her — how do you match something so strong that the loss of it nearly killed him now?
    Melody had never truly loved Bill, she’d even admitted it herself. Their shotgun wedding after she got pregnant from a one night stand resulted in a miscarriage less than three months later. She was different after that, she pulled away, and any talk of their future together was gone. At least when they had the idea of a baby to keep them together, she’d been able to hold onto that hope that she might learn to love her husband. As for Bill, he’d fallen fast. She’d been so kind, so tall, so beautiful. And knowing that she had his child growing inside of her had made him fiercely protective of her.
    It’s not Melody in there anyway . Forget about it.
    No, it certainly