Wild Cowboy Ways (Lucky Penny Ranch #1)(80)

No one had ever cared enough about Allie to sit in a tub with her when she was crying or brush her hair, much less talk to her without using words. Sitting there with her eyes shut, feeling Blake’s long legs against her body and what had to be an erection pressing against her back, she couldn’t help but wonder if the third time was the charm. First there was Granny’s Walter. Then there was Katy’s Ray. And now there was Blake, who was the third. If it was a real fairy tale, the prince would come along and win the princess.

“Now that’s as far-fetched as anything can be,” she murmured to herself.

“What?” he asked.

She clamped a hand over her mouth. “Did I say that out loud?”

“You did. Want to explain?” he asked.

She shook her head and leaned back so she could look up into his eyes. “Do you have your contacts in place?”

“No, ma’am, and I’m blind without them or my glasses so my hands are seeing for me this morning. They tell me that you are beautiful beyond words.” He smiled.

“And when do you wear glasses? After a Friday night of bar hopping?”

He reached behind him to the end table and put his glasses on. “Or on a nice rainy day so I can see you better. I don’t like them but they come in handy when my allergies act up.”

“I like them on you. They make your eyes even greener.”

“Then I’ll throw away my contacts and wear them every day just for you,” Blake said sincerely.

In all the fairy tales she’d read or that Granny had read to her in her youth, the prince had never worn glasses or been nearsighted. This had to be reality.

“You don’t have to do that, Blake. Do you always believe what your hands say?” she teased.

“Not always but my heart never lies to me and it’s in agreement with my hands,” he whispered.

“Oh!”

He stopped and kissed her hair. “I’m sorry. Did I hit a tangle?”

“No, I should call Mama and Lizzy. It’s a wonder they haven’t called out the militia already,” she said.

He pulled the brush to the end of her dark hair and then laid it on the end table. “I talked to Lizzy last night and your mother this morning. They know where you are, that you are alive, and that I’ll bring you home sometime later.”

“I can drive myself home. I drove over here drunk, so I reckon I can get back when I’m sober,” she said.

“Not in that truck out there with the front end caved in. You’re lucky that you didn’t hurt yourself, but then God protects drunks and fools,” he said with a chuckle.

She crawled off the sofa and pulled the robe tightly across her bare breasts. “I was hoping that part was a dream. Did I really wreck my truck?”

“You did, darlin’,” he answered. “Look out the window. Is that the one you bought when you were sixteen?”

When she peeked through the blinds, she expected another burst of tears. She’d saved money from working with her dad to buy that truck and now it was totaled. Sure, she could probably find used parts and have someone fix the thing, but was it worth it? Was this an omen that she should let go of all the past?

“I’m sorry.” Blake’s arms circled her waist and he buried his face in her hair. “I’m sure it means a lot to you, but it will take a fortune to fix it.”

“Thank God the folks who built Audrey’s and this house as well put them on a good solid foundation.” She leaned back against his chest. “It’s time to say good-bye to that truck and send her off to that great junkyard in the sky.”

“She will be able to visit with my first wrecked vehicle that looked a whole lot like her. Only I was eighteen and probably drunker than you were last night. Shooter and I thought we were experiencing our very first earthquake.”

“What happened that you got so drunk? And did it really shake the house that hard?”

“Second question first.” He led her back to the sofa, sat down, and pulled her into his lap. “Yes, it did, and I figure from the way that front end is caved in that you hit the gas instead of the brake. If you’d been sober, you would have stiffened up and come out of it with a whiplash at the least, but you were limber as a wet noodle. I did find a couple of bruises up under your arms where you must’ve hit the steering wheel but that’s all.”

She pushed up the sleeves of his robe and sure enough there were two long, skinny strips of purple under each arm as if she’d hugged that steering wheel at time of impact.

He kissed each bruise and pulled the sleeves back down for her. “Other question. My folks called a lawyer and he took care of things. I knew they were right. Hell, I knew I was making a mistake when I was standing there drunk and saying my vows to love, honor, and respect Scarlett.” He wrapped his arms around her even tighter. “But it didn’t make it sting any less for them to treat me like a child so I went out that night and got drunk again. I spent three days in the hospital with a concussion. When I saw my truck after they’d pulled it from around the big pecan tree, I decided I’d never drink that much again.”

“Did you keep that promise to yourself?” she asked.

“Almost all the time. Nowadays, three beers is my limit. If I have a shot of Jack, then two beers is my limit.”