Page 48 of Risking it for the Cowboy

He smiled, then rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. “All better.”

It wasn’t, but it felt nice having someone here, having him here. She reached up in her cupboard for a coffee cup, pulling down her pink one with rhinestones studded in the shape of a guitar, and words in pretty cursive, saying, Don’t Fret.

She turned back to him with the coffee. “How do you take it?” she asked, pulling the sugar canister closer, taking off the lid.

“Hot and sweet,” he murmured.

Then licked his finger, pressed it into the sugar canister, and brought it up to her mouth, painting a dusting of white crystals across her lips, before bringing it back to his mouth to suck free.

Her pulse pounded as she flicked her tongue out to lick them clean, and his eyes bored into the tiny action, tracking her tongue as she fumbled to scoop a teaspoon of sugar out of the dish and stir it into his mug.

She took out the spoon, and he captured her wrist in the circle of his thumb and finger, bringing the spoon to his mouth, sucking it clean of droplets, taking the mug from her fingers as their touch mingled.

He lifted the mug to his lips and sipped, sloshing it as he wrested something from his pocket and placed the jagged things into her hand. “Hits the spot.”

Her keys? Right, her Rover keys, as their chests rose and fell against one another and he savored the coffee.

Then he held out his palm.

“Oh, yeah, your money. How much was it?” She reached around him and slung her purse off the back of a kitchen chair, when his palm slid onto her waist, stopping her, sending warmth skittering through her as he chuckled.

She stared up into his eyes.

“Naw, baby, my keys. It might be my day off, but I got a vitamin shipment to pick up and a grown-ass cousin to babysit since your bestie seems to have broken his heart.”

“Thaddeus, you have to let me pay you.”

“Don’t have to let you do anything.”

T.R. sipped. Glanced at her mug and smiled wistfully. Touched the rhinestones contemplatively.

The TV volume turned up an inch. “Daisy Maisy.” She invoked her nickname to soften the blow. “You gotta do your school reading before TV. You know the rules. I’ll be in in a second—”

“Maybe T. Rex could help me,” Daisy said from behind them.

Thaddeus’s face blanked at the suggestion, when a little hand reached to his, taking it in hers.

He looked down at Daisy in her jammies and messy hair, holding her Magic Treehouse book. “Oh, I don’t know if I’m, uh, if I’d be that helpful.”

“Sure you would. You got all those books on those old-fashioned disc things—”

“Old-fashioned?” His brows shot up. “What am I, a dinosaur or something?” Thaddeus teased but let Daisy lead him back into the living room to the couch.

“Yes.” Daisy giggled. “You’re T. Rex.”

Charlie grinned to herself. They were kind of old-fashioned.

“Okay.” He chuckled, muffled by the distance. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Chapter reading … teacher likes to torture us…”

She smiled at Thaddeus’s soft rumble of laughter, like the purring of an engine, as she dashed up the back stairs to throw on actual clothes for the day.

“Now let’s see,” his voice filtered upstairs, taking the book and flipping through the pages. “You like these pictures? Look at that, a unicorn? Why don’t you try readin’ this page to me.”

“I can’t.” Daisy moaned, inciting a deep chuckle, when she heard him launch into the story except…

Charlie knew this book frontways and back. He wasn’t reading anything she’d ever heard before.