Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)(61)

A soft breeze wafted through the bedroom window. She rolled onto her stomach, stretching out on the cool sheets that smelled like Tell. She’d never paid much attention to a man’s scent before, but his was so distinctive—sunshine, salty musk, the subtle aroma of laundry soap and a hint of lime shaving cream.


Mmm. She wondered if his scent would linger on her skin all day. There was incentive not to jump in the shower. Maybe if she remained naked, when Tell returned, he could rub that scent all over her body again.


She was imagining Tell’s very inventive ways of waking her up, when voices drifted down the hallway. She rolled and jackknifed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. Who was here at—she squinted at the alarm clock—nine thirty on a Sunday morning? She listened. She couldn’t discern the words, but she made out two distinct male voices.


Relax. Probably just one of his brothers.


Wasn’t like she could go out and meet the fam. She’d have to stay put because her only clothing was the fancy dress she’d worn last night. A dress that Tell had thoughtfully draped over the chair. When had he done that?


Was it a prompt for her to get dressed? Since he’d also set her underwear, bra, shoes and purse on the dresser—directly in her line of sight.


Her doubts from last night pushed front and center.


What happened now? He’d taken her to the reunion; she’d lined up judging gigs for him. Technically they’d each gotten what they wanted. Tell hadn’t mentioned wanting more.


Neither have you.


So what were her options?


Crawl back in bed and yank the covers over her head?


Get dressed and face the day—and Tell?


Option two won out.


When she entered the kitchen, Tell didn’t hug her or kiss her. In fact, he didn’t even get up from his seat at the table. He just gave her a once-over and a small smile. “Morning.”


“Morning.”


“This is my brother Dalton.”


Her gaze winged between the two men. Same dark hair, same blue eyes. Dalton had rugged features where Tell’s were sharply defined. Dalton was a big guy—he had a couple inches on Tell and thirty pounds—all muscle, from the looks of it. Most likely Dalton had the same shit-eating grin as his older brother. But there was no sign of it as his gaze moved over Georgia. She fought the urge to fuss with her disheveled appearance, choosing instead to raise her chin a notch and give him an equally cool stare. “Hey, Dalton. I remember you.”


“Georgia. You’re lookin’—”


Tell smacked him in the back of the head. “Shut it, *. Why are you even here? Don’t you have something to do today?”


Dalton scowled. “Not me, we. I’m waitin’ on you, because we both have to deal with that one thing, remember?”


“What one thing?” Tell asked with confusion.


“You know. That one thing.”


“Oh. Oh! That one thing. Gotcha.”


Talk about vague. Was “that one thing” some secret man code for lemme help you get rid of your pesky overnight female guest?


Yes, if the looks exchanged between the McKay boys were any indication.


Georgia’s cheeks burned. Yeah, she was some class act the morning after her high school reunion—wearing last night’s wrinkled clothes, smelling of sex, sporting bed head and dragon breath. No wonder Tell had the look of a trapped animal. Was he worried she’d somehow embarrass him in front of his studly younger brother? By acting clingy? Or worse…by making herself at home?


Screw that. She’d hold her head up high. She could act casually slutty, as if rolling out of a man’s bed after a night of hair-pulling, toe-curling sex was a regular occurrence for a tigress like her.


Big talk, Hot Lips. You’d run out the door if you could.


Her fingers tightened on her purse. “I know you’re a busy man, Tell. But I’m afraid I’ll need a ride home.”


“No problem. I’ll take you now.”


“Want me to ride along?” Dalton asked.


Both she and Tell froze, but they didn’t look at each other.


“Nah. I’ll be back in thirty and we can go do that one thing.”


So Tell wasn’t planning to hang out at her place.


Georgia could feel Tell’s gaze on her as he held open the front door. She never pulled the I’m-so-busy-I’m-constantly-needed-on-my-cell-phone type of avoidance—but she was doing it now.


She was so engrossed in the info on her phone she didn’t even glance at Tell after he helped her into his pickup. She was so immersed in the text scrolling across the screen she paid no attention to Tell McKay at all. Muttering to herself as she pretended to ignore the Wyoming countryside rolling by out passenger side window.


“Something wrong?” Tell finally asked.


“No.” She paused, wondering if she should take the chance and ask if she’d see him this week.


“I’m sorry Dalton showed up this morning. I completely forgot I told him I would—”


She held up the hand that wasn’t poking keys on her phone’s keypad, but she didn’t deign to look away from the screen. “No need to explain. I had to hit the road anyway, I’m just sorry I had to tear you away from your plans and you have to give me a ride. This is why I insist on driving. I hate being stuck somewhere without my car.”