Free Cowboy of Mine by Red L. Jameson

dipping low. “I know I probably should be vigilant. I saw a man on my porch, after all. But now I’m so, so tired.”
    “Ye should sleep then.”
    “So should you.”
    He shook his head.
    “Will you lie down with me?”
    She was killing him. Just killing him. He felt his heart contract from her request. His body, though, was overreacting, and he didn’t want her to think less of him for it.
    “I—I’m still scared. Will you sleep with me?”
    Could he say no to her?
    Doubtful.
    “All right.”
    This time she didn’t hug him as he wanted. But she did give him a smile. “I have egg and bacon pie in the icebox if you want it.”
    He shook his head. For once he wasn’t thinking about food.
    Then she set about getting ready for sleep, putting his hat on the table, piling more wood in the stove, making sure the kittens were sleeping, then she unwrapped herself from his plaid and laid it on the bed.
    Damn. Damn. Damn, he kept thinking all sorts of indecent thoughts, especially so since he’d just met her, barely knew her, and was there to protect her.
    She gave him a toothbrush, and that finally clicked something in his mind to think less desirable thoughts. They brushed their teeth together over a basin. She’d concocted some kind of baking powder and mint paste that tasted great, and the act was innocent enough for his fantasies to simmer. For a bit.
    But once they were done, smiling at each other with their shy looks, she took off his coat.
    Oh, there she was, bonny woman, with her curves, the deep valley between her breasts beckoning him. He turned from her when she started to unlace her stays. She really was getting ready for bed. And he needed to think only of her needing a hero. Not some dog of a man, pawing all over her.
    He heard the squeak of her spring mattress, the covers rippling as she probably got in them.
    “You can look now. I’m ready.”
    Ready , oh Lord, how he wished she was.
    He took a big breath and quietly walked around her home, blowing out the candles.
    “Do you want to take off your waistcoat?”
    Yes. God, yes. That would be a good start.
    He was proud of himself for just taking off his black waistcoat then his boots. When he walked to her bed, in the middle of her little house, he realized then that mayhap sleeping beside her was for the best. After all, he doubted he’d be able to truly shut his eyes, he was so excited.
    He swallowed and made sure to lie on top of her covers. Her wee back was to him. Her slim shoulders covered in her shift poked out from her bedding. Good. Good. It was better not to see her. Well, not see her fae-ish face.
    He turned to lie on his back, feeling his body sink into her bed. It was a combination of springs and feathers and a bit too comfortable for him. His eyes, already feeling like sand bit them, were suddenly closing of their own accord.
    She turned. His body became alert once more.
    He wouldn’t look at her. Didn’t dare. No way in hell or heaven for that matter would he look at her.
    But she ran her tiny fingers along his hand then pulled his arm around her shoulder. She nestled her head, her hair smelling so sweet and floral, on his chest. His arm around her, her arm resting on him, she tipped her face up, smiling.
    “Now I can sleep.”
    Aye, she was truly killing him.
     

 
     
    Chapter 4
     
    I t was so warm, so relaxingly warm. Meredith couldn’t help but smile at waking with her toes not frozen for once. Her blanket was so heavy, but felt so...
    That’s when she realized her blanket wasn’t that at all. But a very large, oven of a man who had one leg wrapped around hers, one arm firmly nestled around her waist, his front to her back. He pulled her even closer, even though they were as close as they could be. While clothed.
    Her body sizzled from the intimacy, from Jake mostly laying on her. Last night, he’d been so brave, so effortlessly comforting. She’d asked Jake to sleep with her, because, like usual, her mouth acted before she