“Dammit!” she exclaims. “You have got to be kidding me,” she grumbles as she sees the hand I beat her with: a four of a kind, all twos.
“You did have all the twos,” she says.
We share a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You’re tired. Let’s go to bed; you can take mine.”
“Can I take a bath?”
“Of course.”
She wrinkles her nose as she stands. “You should too. We’re no longer prisoners, Briggs; bathing isn’t optional.” She stumbles forward, and I catch her.
“Drunkity drunk,” she says with a giggle I’ve never heard. “Ask me if I feel like a bad person for it.”
“Do you?” I grin down at her.
“No, some local supposed cowboy”—she lifts her fingers in air quotes as I hold her shoulders—“showed me a good time.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Not drunk enough to sleep with a horse,” she says with another laugh. It’s music, and it feels so fucking good.
“Thank God for that.”
“The human head weighs eight pounds,” she says with another giggle.
“What?” I ask with an incredulous laugh.
“I mean, where were you?” she asks, her shoulders shaking.
“Okay, drunk girl, think you’ll make it through a shower?”
She pulls away from my hold. “I’m good. Promise.” She sobers slightly, and I lead her to my bedroom. It’s surreal having her in here. The furnishings are all old wood. Nothing in Gran’s house is new, nothing.
“This is nice, big,” she says as she looks around. Our worlds are mixing, and I’m too damn drunk to let myself think about it.
“Towels are in the cabinet. You’ll have to deal with my mix of shampoo and body wash.”
“I’ll manage. I feel like an ass, taking your bed.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I move toward the door.
“It was so fun,” she says, wistfully glancing over her shoulder to peer back at me. “So fun. Thank you.”
“Sure. Night.”
“Night.” Our eyes lock, and I have to force myself through the door.
Tossing on the shit couch Gran refuses to replace, I find myself staring up at the ceiling. I heard the shower cut off an hour ago, and I know she’s fast asleep. Every part of me wants to be in that room with her. For the first time since we parted ways, I can’t hear the pendulum swinging. It’s the most peaceful sound, the quiet. She’s in my bed, and whether or not we’re supposed to be, we’re deep inside the other in a way we can’t seem to break. It’s more than love, it’s a friendship, a connection that’s so profound it’s infinite.
She’s here.
It’s the only thing that helps me drift to sleep.
Sometime later, I sense her presence.
“Scottie?”
“Shhh,” she says. “Go back to sleep.”
Opening my eyes, I wait for the darkness to clear and see her on Gran’s rickety lounger right across from me. I know for a fact it’s hell to sleep in. She’s got my quilt around her, and her eyes are closed.
“That can’t be comfortable,” I mumble.
“It’s perfect,” she whispers through the darkness, and after hearing the peace in her voice, I agree.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Katy
The scent of cologne and body wash fills my nose as I rouse from sleep. I’d woken up a few times last night in that chair, covered in sweat, heart racing. But seeing Briggs sleeping soundly across from me felt like consolation, once my breathing evened out.
I’d study the rise and fall of his chest, itching to run my fingers through his hair, but the comfort in knowing he was near for the first time in countless months was what lulled me back to sleep. Rising from the pillow, I realize I’m in his bed, and can’t recall getting there. I’m surrounded by the newness of his smell, the feel of his sheets tangled between my legs.
“Morning, or should I say afternoon?” I hear whispered next to me and turn my head to see the steam from his shower drifting into the bedroom. He’s already dressed in faded jeans that hang low and a black tank.
“Afternoon?” I ask before I faceplant back into the pillow. “Do I dare to ask what time it is?”
“Well, it’s after noon.”
“Smart ass,” I say, turning my head to grin at him, and he returns it. Reading his posture, I have no clue what he’s thinking. I can’t help my perusal of him, freshly showered. Desire courses through me, and I realize how crazy I must look. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a mean case of pillow face, and I can see my cloud of hair in my peripheral.
“How do you feel?” he asks with concern, nodding toward his bedside table where a glass of water and two Advil sit.
“I’m not sure yet,” I say, rolling over and popping the pills for precaution. “Thank you.”
“Sure,” he says, dropping down to sit at the far end of the bed on my side.
“Shower is all yours. There’s breakfast on the table for you, but you’ll probably have to warm it up. I’ll see you out there.”
“Wow,” I say, impressed. “You treat all your drunk girls like this?”
Something close to pain flits over his features and guilt sets in. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’ve never brought a woman back here. This is Gran’s place. It’s home to me, but not—not like that.”
“Oh,” I say. “Yeah, I get it.”
“I just haven’t moved out because I’ve been on base, and then Gramps died…I guess it would be wise at some point.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I offer, putting my hand on his. “I’m not judging you. If anything, I think you’re one of the best men I’ve ever met, ever known. You have to know that by now.”
He sighs, “But a jackass.”
“Most definitely, and I think that’s the thing I love about you most. You aren’t so easily swayed by anyone else’s opinion. You’re you, with no apologies. Take it or leave it.”
Between the sight of him on the bed and the smell of him between us, I’m having a hard time sitting idle. But I do because I still feel the hesitance in him. I’m interrupting his world, and I need to see myself out of it, but for the life of me, I can’t bring myself to do it.
“See you outside?”
“Yeah,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “Saddle me up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, thickening his drawl.
He makes it to the door and pulls on his hat, and something stirs within me at the sight—his presence, his easy demeanor, his quiet strength. One look back from him has me melting into his mattress with want.
After a few wordless moments of heavy eye exchange, he speaks. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Sure about that?” I ask, my voice squeaking with evidence of my arousal.
He presses his lips together because he doesn’t miss it, he never has.
He nods his head continually. “Yeah.” He smacks the doorframe lightly. “Positive. Hurry up.”
It’s only when he’s a few steps out the door that I hear a voice whisper from deep within.
Today is going to be a good day.
He chuckles from where he sits, perched on Houdini, as I’m jerked forward by the momentum. “Stop laughing at me, you ass, and give me some pointers.”
Positive I look anything but graceful, the horse trots forward as my body bounces on the saddle.
“First of all, you are the one in control, and you need to let him know it, so stop letting him jerk you around and tighten those thighs on the saddle. Straighten your shoulders, but keep your lower half loose, so you don’t get jarred.” He watches me for a few seconds. “Better.”
“It doesn’t feel better,” I say, feeling like I’m being bounced on a knee.
“Watch his head to take count of his stride. You two need to sync into a rhythm; it’s going to take a minute.”