Delivery to the Farmhouse (Havenwood Cowboys Romance #4)

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

O nce he closed the door and secured the latch, I found myself herded toward the bed. Gently, pushing me by the shoulders, Colton guided me to sit on the mattress.

“Tell me what you need.”

“What?”

He crouched at my feet and then rested his knee on the carpet. Kneeling before me, he stared up. His expression was rigid. Focused. Stilling.

“I can only imagine how that was for you, having that creep close in. Touch you without your permission. Tell me what you need. Space? I can leave you here. But I can help, too. Keep you company.”

As he spoke, I realized the shock of earlier sank in. I was touched but also thrown off.

He’d just punched a guy in the face for me—and he was worried about how I was doing? There was the slightest tremor taking place under my skin. Was that unrest because of what happened?

I didn’t know what to say. “How about we kick back?” I suggested. “I don’t know about you, but I need to get my mind off of it. We could…watch a movie or something.”

“You got it.” Colton rose and headed into the bathroom. The sound of water running came through, and seconds later, he was back out again, offering me his hand.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Smoothly but forcibly, his warm hand enfolded mine, and he led me toward the bathroom.

Steam filled the room. Once we got there, he released me long enough to make for the tub and shut off the water.

“Get cleaned up. I’ll shower after you.”

I stared at the steam filling the bathroom. And I was ridiculously aware of him in this small space. In his tall body standing so close to mine. In the intimate way he didn’t take his eyes from me.

“You…drew me a bath?”

“Is that okay?”

I touched his arm. “Are you kidding? Thank you.”

He didn’t smile. His typically sunny persona had faded after the tense evening. I couldn’t blame him.

He ducked out of the bathroom long enough to slide my bag toward me. I took it, ready to herd him out and soak in that bath, when a thought seized me.

“You’ll still be here, right?” I said. “When I get out?”

For some reason, our conversation before we’d left, about sharing rooms, came to mind. It seemed to cross his mind as well.

“If you want me to.”

“I do,” I said, trembling with the words.

“We’ve got a movie to watch,” he added.

“Exactly.” The word was weak. My smile was weak.

It felt like every move we made was treading on new ground. Something had shifted between us, and I wasn’t sure either of us knew how to deal with it.

He jutted his chin toward the bathtub. “Enjoy,” he said, before turning and leaving me alone in the bathroom .

I pulled out my toiletry bag, digging out my toothpaste and toothbrush, shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. After cleaning my teeth, I stripped down and soaked in the most luxurious bath I’d ever taken.

In all honesty, it was just like any other bath, except this bathroom was nicer than any of mine had ever been, and the fact that Colton had drawn the water for me had a serious impact on just how relaxing the water was and just how succulent the sugary smell of my body wash was.

I soaked for as long as I dared and by the time I toweled off and dressed, I felt an entirely new anticipation. Was he really still in the room?

He wouldn’t have left, would he? Was he the type of guy to have second thoughts? To make promises and ditch out on a girl just before seeing them through?

With my bag in hand, after resting the towel on the side of the tub, I stepped out into the noticeably colder room. To my relief, Colton sank back against the pillows. He’d taken off his boots and held the remote in one hand as he flipped through channels.

“Feel better?” he asked, lowering the remote.

“Much,” I said. “Did I say thank you? If not, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, setting the remote down.

“Your turn,” I said, gesturing to the bathroom, and for some reason, the idea of Colton sharing the same bathroom I’d just used felt extremely intimate.

With his lips quirked upward and a lock of hair tumbling into his eyes, he strode past me, bending for his bag and heading in.

“You’ll have to check out the options,” he said just before disappearing inside. “I saw a few that looked good, but you might like one better than another.”

“I will,” I said.

Honestly, even though I flipped channels, I didn’t see much at all. My thoughts kept straying to Colton and the evening’s events, to how weirdly natural it felt to be in the same hotel room with him, to just how bad he’d looked as he’d ripped my attacker off the bench and told him to leave me alone. Of the things he’d said.

I turned to my phone instead, skimming through social media and replying to a few messages. Mom texted, asking me how things were going.

If I told her the truth, that would be an interesting reply.

Oh, good. I just ran away from home with Colton Holden. He defended my honor in the manliest way, drew me a bath, and now we’re sharing the same hotel room until he decides it’s time to leave.

I knew we’d talked about not sharing a room, but honestly, I didn’t want him to leave. Not when he came out smelling like musky body products with his damp hair hanging in his eyes.

He was also barefooted. I’d never seen him barefooted before.

“Find anything?” he asked, strolling down the aisle between the room’s two beds and bringing his tantalizing scent even closer. Driving me wild.

I reached for one of the pillows next to me and hugged it, staring at the screen. Then, as he set his bag down at the end of the bed, I noticed the bruises on the knuckles of his right hand.

“That looks rough,” I said, pointing.

Colton lifted his hand and inspected his knuckles. He shook it a few times. “It’s nothing worse than I get from rowdy cows.”

While I wouldn’t mind seeing him wrestle some of those cows one of these days, I kept my attention on the matter at hand.

I freed my feet from the blankets and reached for him. It was a reflex thing, one I didn’t really consider seeing as how I was touching his uninjured hand. But by the time our skin made impact, it was too late to withdraw.

Either that, or I didn’t really want to. His hand was warm. Soft. And from this close up, he looked far too good. I had the stupid urge to run my fingers across the prickles on his jaw.

“Come here. Sit down.”

I tugged him toward me. Moving slowly, planting his solemn gaze on me, he did so. His thigh brushed my knee, sending a trail of sparks up my leg. From the way he straightened, I wondered if he didn’t experience something similar.

It made me wonder what his dating life had been before now. He’d said breaking hearts wasn’t on his track record. Did that mean his heart had been the one to be broken a time or two? Or was this new for him?

From his protective streak, I doubted dating was anything new.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but I took his hand and used the bruises as an excuse to cup it in mine. Whether I just wanted to keep touching him or not, the purple spots didn’t look good.

“Shh. I’m getting some ice.”

“But—”

I left before he could protest. I paused long enough to get the little bucket from the table next to the coffee pot. Then I carried the bucket and bag to the ice machine down the hall.

Once it was filled, I made my way back to the room. Knocking. Thrilling when Colton opened the door for me once more.

Neither of us said much at all. I wasn’t sure what kept him so quiet, but for me, it was a plain old not knowing what to say.

Since the silence didn’t seem to bother him, I sat on the bed beside him. Even though we both knew he was fully capable of placing his own hand in the ice bucket, he let me lift his arm and do it for him.

I stared at the muscle roping his forearm, at the way his vein made a trail to his wrist.

He flexed his hand, wincing as his fingers delved deeper into the ice.

“How’s that?” I asked, keeping my hands around the bucket, which was positioned between us.

“The truth?” His voice was a rumble deep in his chest.

I braced myself, unsure of what he was going to say. Was he going to tell me he was sorry we’d come at all?

“Only if you want to,” I said .

He removed his hand from the ice, flexing his fingers a few times, before lowering it back once more. And then, moving carefully, his other hand reached for mine sitting on my leg.

My heart became a driving force, stepping on the gas and pushing me up the ramp of a roller coaster. Even though we moved slowly, even though I was only climbing my way up to make the plunge, my pulse still pounded like the exhilarated rush of falling had already come.

I was mesmerized by the sight of his well-trimmed nails, of his soft fingertips trailing their way to insert themselves in the spaces between my fingers.

Breathing was harder than it should have been. Every breath my lungs attempted pinched in my chest.

“Having you here with me, that’s great,” he said. “The hand?” He shuffled it in the ice. “Not so much.”

“I’m driving tomorrow,” I said before I got swept up in his smolder.

Colton squirmed. His hand slipped only a fraction away from mine. “I don’t know.”

I held on tighter and pointed to the bucket. “You can let your hand rest.”

“I just?—”

“You just what?”

Squeezing my hand, he rested his on my leg. “I don’t usually let other people drive my truck.”

I nearly snorted. Was that all?

If I didn’t think him sliding onto the bench to show his ownership of me was possessive, this certainly was. What was the big deal? It was a truck .

“Get used to it. You need to rest. Besides, I’m a good driver.”

“As long as there’s no mud holes around.” The smallest grin took over the corner of his mouth.

The nerve.

“I’ll show you mud holes.” And even though ice had absolutely nothing to do with mud, it was the closest weapon I had. I reached into the bucket and splashed some ice water at him.

“Hey!” he said, wiping his cheek and looking at his hand as though it was to blame.

His gaze flicked to me with hints of mischief before determination settled in.

“You’re not the only one who plays dirty,” he said, removing his hand from the ice. He took a handful and splashed it on me in return.

I squealed as the cold, slimy cubes struck my throat and slid down into my shirt.

That was it.

I attacked once more. He deflected. And then we were really in it. My shirt was wet. Splashes of water splotched his shirt. Both of us were laughing, launching ice and flicking water at one another.

Finally, still laughing and half soaked, I took the whole bucket and tossed its contents at him. Some ice hit the bed, landing on the pillows I’d been couched against before, but to my complete satisfaction, Colton got a face full and, if I wasn’t mistaken, several cubes slid their way down his shirt, too.

Take that.

“Whoa.” Colton paused only a second to wipe the moisture from his face and hold out his arms.

Breathing hard, I waited for what he’d do next.

“That’s it,” he said. Knocking the bucket onto the floor, he took my wrists and pushed me back, pinning them—and me—to the bed.

His hold was surprisingly gentle. His body hovered over me, his knees between my legs. And boy, did I like him from this angle. I melted completely as realization settled over his eyes, as his breathing slowed, as his fingers wove through mine once more, keeping my hands against the bed.

Fire coursed through my entire body. He stared at my mouth, and I didn’t care that my shirt was wet, or that the blanket beneath me had wet spots on it from our ice war.

I was ready for this. For him to bring his lips to mine.

“Do it,” I said.

“Do what?”

If there was any part of me that was still solid at this point, the husky tone of his voice succeeded at liquifying it.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now,” I said, my voice just as soft.

“I’m thinking…” He lowered his body to mine, sandwiching me between him and the mattress. Releasing my hands, his went to my face instead, stroking my cheek with those softly callused fingertips.

Every touch only amplified the desire pooling in me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever wanted to kiss anyone as badly as I wanted to kiss Colton.

He brought his face closer. His hot breath stroked my cheek, and my longing spiked. I brought my hand to his cheek, feeling the prick of his stubble.

“I’m thinking I should get to my room,” he said, caressing my cheek once more.

But he didn’t move. Even so, disappointment sank into me hard and fast. I knew better than to get my hopes up. I knew better than to want something with this cowboy.

“I—I don’t want you to go yet,” I said.

“It might be best.”

His eyes flicked to my lips a final time before he did the last thing I wanted him to: he rolled off and sat up. My body was palpably alert, listing all the places he’d been moments before. The places he was no longer touching.

I pushed myself up as well, fighting the disappointment that wouldn’t leave me alone.

“I made you a promise, remember?” he went on, scraping a hand through his hair. “I told you I’d be a gentleman on this trip, and I’m broaching non-gentleman territory.”

He looked at me from under those thick lashes. I realized what he was getting at, and my chest warmed in an entirely new way. Rejection thrummed its way through my body, cooling the heat I’d felt moments before and changing it to something like regret.

Here, he’d been so cautious while I’d been ready to dive right in. To kissing him, mind. Nothing more than that. But still, he was right. Kissing Colton just now probably wouldn’t have been the best idea.

With the two of us alone here, getting carried away would have been all too easy.

“Thank you,” I told him, roping my hair around my shoulder as he slid from the bed. “For stepping in earlier. For being a gentleman. I’m still sorry you got hurt.”

Colton bent for his bag and placed it on the other queen. The bed I’d probably move to after he left, seeing as how it hadn’t fallen victim to our ice fight.

“Natalie,” he said, and hearing him say my name made my blood spin. “Don’t you dare apologize for that idiot.”

“But your hand—you were hurt.”

He rested his hand on his hip. “I’d do it again and again if it meant you were safe. I’ll keep you safe from idiots all day long.”

My heart gave a little spur, chugging up to speed. “Have a good night,” I said.

“You, too.” He tipped his head in my direction, and then took his bag and left the room.

Sinking onto the other bed, I stared at the bed we’d been on and its rumpled, water-soaked pillows and blankets. I couldn’t escape the feel of him pressing me into the mattress, the sight of his eyes up close, the shape of his lips and the silent call they’d had for me.

It took a little too long before I drifted off, mostly because I kept replaying our ice fight. Only this time, the fantasy version ended with him granting my request and pressing his lips to mine.

I nestled into my blankets, leaving the TV playing Ever After softly in the dim room. As I drifted off to sleep, I was sure of one thing?—

Tomorrow, we were making our way to Mount Rushmore. And I was going to make another play at getting Colton Holden to follow through and kiss me.