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“He really will spank you, darlin’. You should watch out for him.” Noah’s dark hair shook slightly as he walked into the room and started to open drawers. He pulled a thick quilt from the bottom of the dresser, turned, and then walked toward her. “And he’s an awful host. You’re obviously cold, and he didn’t even offer you a blanket.”

No, he’d offered her the warmth of that big body of his, every inch of it corded with hard-earned muscle. James worked for a living, and he worked hard. When James’s hands had touched her skin she could feel the harsh calluses on them. So different from Christian’s soft skin.

“Now, see, I’m beginning to think my brother is right, and there’s something awful going on in your head. Every now and then, your eyes tense up, and it’s like you’re somewhere else. Somewhere bad.” He pulled the blanket up over her, covering her to her chin. “I don’t like that look you get in your eyes. It makes me worry.”

“Don’t. You don’t know me, and the truth of the matter is, I’ll be leaving town soon.” It was the truth. It was better to just get it all out there.

His handsome face didn’t even frown. His grin widened as though he knew something she didn’t. “Well, I think I’ll have to do something about that, Miss Hope. I don’t think I’m ready for you to leave, not when I just came home. So we’ll have to make the most of our time together. Lunch tomorrow?”

That was a horrible idea. “No. No. I have to go into town tomorrow and see about my car.”

If he was horribly offended by her turning him down flat, he didn’t show it. He simply put his hands under the covers and pulled off her leopard-print ballet flats. “You don’t need these. I’ll find you some warm socks. Until then, Butch can help you out.” He whistled, and the dog bounded onto the bed, covering her feet with his enormous body. He stared at her, his tongue lolling out, begging for a little praise.

“Thanks, Butch.” It was odd. There was a dog warming her feet. It was also rather sweet. Butch put his head down, as though utterly willing to have her feet poking his belly for just as long as she needed him.

Noah winked down at her. He was stunningly gorgeous with forest-green eyes and hair so black she would swear there were shades of blue in it. “As for tomorrow, how exactly were you going to get into town? It’s a long walk for a girl who’s supposed to be resting. I happen to have a little time built into my schedule, so I already called Long-Haired Roger, and we have an appointment at eleven. My stomach starts crying right around eleven thirty, and it’s been five long years since I had some of Stella’s butterscotch pie. Do you really want to make me drive all the way back here weak with hunger? I saved you on the side of the road. I’m willing to drive you all over town. I’ve offered up my very own dog in order to keep your feet warm. Are you sure you won’t allow me to feed you a decent meal so I don’t worry about it all day?”

Asshole. He’d made his whole heartfelt speech with the smile of a man who knew he’d put a woman in a corner. “Fine, but don’t think you can use me to make your brother jealous.”

He flushed slightly, but didn’t back down. “No, Hope. It’s not that, although we always have been competitive. We also have the same taste in women. I’m attracted to you. Terribly attracted to you and it’s been a long time since I wanted a woman. It feels damn good, and I won’t back off because Jamie wants you. He doesn’t have you yet, and that makes you perfectly fair game. And I’m the smarter one this time. I get the feeling he’s fucked up with you. I don’t intend to do that. So you should know I’m going to treat you right. Now you rest. I’ll be back to take you to dinner at five forty-five.”

“James said six.”

“Yes, he did, didn’t he? The early bird catches the worm. You rest well, darlin’.”

Noah strode out the door, and she was left with a foot-warming dog and about two million questions.

As she drifted to sleep, her mind was filled with two cowboys. She smiled as sleep claimed her because there wasn’t room in her brain for anything else.

Chapter Five

James walked through the house, carefully avoiding the crowd in the living area. His cock was still righteously hard, and his brain was in a damn tailspin.

She’d been so soft and sweet underneath him. She’d flowered open, her whole body blooming under his. He’d gotten a hand on her breast, and just as he’d suspected, they were real and perfect, the nipples pointing beneath his palm. If they’d been skin to skin, they would have pressed against his chest until he wouldn’t have been able to handle it, and he would have been forced to drag his mouth to her breasts and suck them inside.

James strode through the kitchen, cursing his brother’s name. He slammed through the back screen door and dragged cool air into his lungs. This was what he needed. He needed to be outside, where every wall of the house didn’t press at him with some memory of his childhood.

Sometimes he thought he’d tear the fucker down and rebuild. Every room contained a memory. He couldn’t walk into the parlor without seeing his mom putting up a Christmas tree. She’d never had one of those Martha Stewart perfect trees he’d seen on TV. She’d said that having a theme for a Christmas tree went against the spirit. Their tree was decorated in a wild kaleidoscope of color. In the attic, there were boxes and boxes of ornaments his dads had thought would please her and pieces of crap that he and Noah had made. Every one she’d treasured and displayed despite the fact they weren’t her blood. They were more than blood, she’d told him once. Ellen Glen-Bennett had looked down at him, tears filling her brown eyes, and told him that she’d chosen to be his mom. She’d picked him and Noah as surely as she’d picked their fathers.

Fuck, he missed his mom.

Hope reminded him of her. Not in any physical way. It was there in her sweetness. It was in the way she took care of the people around her. She made sure Logan got his lunch. She baked cookies for everyone on their birthdays. She’d brought salad to Nell and Henry when their protests lasted longer than expected, and when Mel and Cassidy had taken to their bunker, she’d made sure Cassidy got her favorite mystery novels.

Hope McLean knew how to take care of a person. She knew how to love.

And that scared the fuck out of him.

He walked toward the stable. What was he doing? Hope was too close to perfect. Hope was the type of woman who could help on a ranch because she would understand. She would get that it was a team effort, and she would throw herself into it.

And that was perfectly fine. He wanted and needed that in a wife. What he didn’t need was a wife who made his heart pound at the very thought of her. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want what his parents had. He didn’t want to fade away when his love was gone. His father had only been sixty-seven, and after his wife and friend were gone, he’d faded. There wasn’t another word for it. Fred Glen had been a ghost of himself after their deaths.

James didn’t want that.

And yet he wasn’t sure he could walk away from Hope.

He found himself standing at the fence of the training area. It was a large, round, three-tiered wooden fence. It was where he trained his horses, but lately it was where he got his ass kicked. Red had been brought out for his daily exercise. James nodded at Kirk, one of his newly hired hands. Kirk nodded back. He was standing far from Red, who snorted and put up a good front. Red was a magnificent horse with amazing lines and a sturdy frame, but he snorted and bit at everybody. The minute he felt a man’s weight on him, he bucked and went crazy.