Rode Hard, Put Up Wet (Rough Riders #2)(24)

“Macie?”


“Thanks, but I think I’d rather stay here.”


“Is it because you’re afraid of leavin’ and goin’ out into the storm?” He paused and leaned back to look at her. “Or just afraid of me?”


“Maybe a little of both.”


Carter considered her for a moment. “Well, I didn’t bring my toothbrush, so you’ll have to share yours.”


“You’re staying here? Why?”


“And miss my chance to show off my cowboy manners by helpin’ a little lady in distress?” Carter grinned. “Not on your life, darlin’.”


“But. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna—”


“I have nothin’ else in mind for tonight, I swear.”


Macie gave him a skeptical look.


“That doesn’t mean things won’t change in a heartbeat after you’re not lookin’ at me like a scared rabbit.” He traced her cheek with the back of his hand. “Fear is the last thing I wanna see in these beautiful brown eyes when I take you the first time.”


Not make love to her. Take her. Despite her lingering fear of the storm, his words sent a thrill through her.


“Although, I ain’t chivalrous enough to sleep on the couch.”


“If you didn’t bring a toothbrush, I don’t suppose you brought pajamas either?”


A slow smile lit his face. “I’ve never been overly fond of pajamas.”


The thought of sleeping all night next to a naked Carter…Lord. You’d think she was bone-cold from the sheer amount of shivers racking her body.


Lightning spiked nearby, accompanied by a deafening crack of thunder. She gasped and threw herself against him again.


“Hey. It’s okay.”


After she quit shaking, he stood. “Maybe we should crawl in, pull the covers over our heads and try to forget about the storm.” Carter peeled back the denim comforter and smoothed the rumpled sheet. “You first.”


Macie heard rustling sounds as Carter stripped down to nothing.


The camper shook from another gust of wind. The covers were lifted, the bed dipped and a hot, hard male pressed against her.


Carter swore under his breath. “Darlin’, your skin is clammy and you’re freezin’.


Come here and let me warm you up.”


“Carter—”


“Innocent warmin’ this time, Macie, I promise.” His hands drifted up and down her back, and he tucked her against his chest.


She relaxed and let him calm her. She began to block out the sounds of the storm and synchronized her breathing to his.


After awhile he murmured, “Better?”


“Mmm.”


Carter kept his caresses light, but constant. Another few minutes passed and he said,


“Can I ask you something?”


“Yeah, I guess.”


“Does your dad know what happened to you when you were a kid? About your mom leavin’ you alone and your fear of storms?”


“No.”


“Why not?”


Yeah, why not? That same smarmy voice persisted.



She ignored it. “Because he wasn’t around much.”


“Yeah? How come?”


“My mom was older than my dad by ten years. When she found out she was pregnant, she thought he’d be a lousy parent, so she did the mature thing and took off. I saw him maybe once a year. Seems pointless to tell him about this now, especially when he never knew some of the other crazy things my mom did.”


“Like?”


“She’d keep me out of school so I could experience ‘life lessons’ not math lessons.


We lived all over the country. The year I turned twelve, Dad wanted me to spend summers on the reservation. My mom believed he’d take me on the rodeo circuit; she refused to leave me with him. When I was old enough to contact him on my own, I did.


Right after my eighteenth birthday, Mom was diagnosed with liver cancer. She died quickly, which was a blessing for her. Her death immediately thrust me into the adult world, but truth was, growing up I was more the adult than Mom ever was, so it wasn’t really that big of a change for me.”


Talk about spilling your guts, Macie. She stiffened, full of self-recrimination for baring all of her pitiful past, and braced herself for his pity or for more questions.


But Carter said, “That flat out sucks,” and his arms gathered her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Get some sleep, sweet darlin’.”


And for the first time in hours, she thought sleep was a possibility.


Carter wanted to punch something, namely Macie’s clueless father. As Macie curled into him, he thought back to his own childhood. It hadn’t been perfect, but it’d been damn near idyllic compared to hers.


He’d never been a pawn between his parents, never worried about waking up scared and alone. A large part of that was because he’d shared a room with Cam. And he had three other brothers down the hall.