Free Cowboy Crazy (The Dalton Boys Book 1) by Em Petrova

joining bodies.
    In a few weeks, she’d never see him again. It wasn’t fair to cross home plate—for either of them.
    “Hank…”
    He cradled her against his bare chest, and she breathed his manly scent. Her mind was whirling with scenarios and her body still pulsated. When he rubbed small circles on her back, she relaxed. He wasn’t an animal, pushing her to seal the deal right now.
    Leaning away, she drank in his god-like features. Straight nose, strong jaw, calm brow. His eyes turned her to jelly, because they were soft and warm with emotion.
    She pressed her palms against his chest, over hard pecs and the steely ridges just below. He was made for hard work—or hard work had made him. Stephen was nothing like this man, and that’s why she’d given a piece of her trust to Hank.
    But she couldn’t fool him into believing she’d be in his life for longer than a few days. She shivered.
    “You cold, sugar?” He wrapped his arms tighter around her, and her heart squeezed. He was thoughtful and giving. So different from anything she’d ever known.
    But she wasn’t for him. He deserved someone whole. Her body might be healed, even if it did bear a twisted scar, but her mind wasn’t sewn back together yet.
    She wasn’t ready for more, and Hank needed something better.
    “Hank, what are we doing?”
    He nuzzled her throat, rubbing his nose back and forth over her curls. “This is called country lovin’, sugar. I’ve never adored this porch swing so much.”
    Fighting a giggle, she was amazed by his words. His low tone buried deep in her, and the fires she’d thought to be doused rekindled.
    She slid off his lap and stood a foot away. If he leaned forward, he could grasp her and pull her back where she wanted to be so damn bad it hurt. She wanted to believe there could be more for her in life than pain and nightmares.
    A crease formed between his long brows, cutting her to the core.
    “I’m sorry, but we can’t do this.”
    He gave a small shake of his head. “I’m not asking you to go to bed with me, Charlotte. All I’m asking is to let this seed between us grow.” He held out a big hand, and she was unnerved to see it shake slightly.
    She stepped back. “What we just did—you’re amazing, Hank. But it can’t continue. I’m only here for a short time, then I’ll be on my way and you’ll lead your life.”
    He compressed his lips, huffing out a breath through his nose. His chest worked. “I don’t do things like this. I don’t lay hands on girls I don’t have feelings for.” His voice broke, ripping her open a little more.
    She spread her hands. “Me either. And it was…” she gave a full body shudder, “one of the best experiences of my life. But I need some distance.”
    He met her gaze. “You’re the one who came to me.”
    “I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
    He clenched a fist and rested it on his knee. “Why not? What aren’t you telling me? Do you have a boyfriend somewhere? A fiancé? Husband, kids?”
    Shock tore through her. “No!”
    “Then what? I know you have secrets. We don’t know each other well, but I’m willing to learn.”
    He was breaking her heart, and she didn’t know how. She’d allowed him to touch her a little, kiss her and give her release. Somewhere along the way she’d given him a small chunk of herself. Now she had to take it back.
    “I’m sorry, Hank, but I can’t.” Before she could see the pain on his rugged face, she hurried to the door and slipped back inside. Breathing hard, she leaned against the door, staring at her dark surroundings.
    None of it belonged to her. It was easy to feel a sense of belonging, and the thought of leaving infused such a feeling of homesickness that she could barely breathe.
    As she mounted the stairs and climbed into Hank’s bed, she longed for the man lying out on the porch floor, probably kicking himself for bringing her home. He had to be thinking that she was no good.
    He was