“You were amazing, Harper. Flat-out amazing.”

“Really?”

“A winner for sure. And you can tell Becca to bite you, but darlin’, that’s my job.”

“I like the way you bite me. Makes me all tingly.”

“I live to make you tingly.”

Harper won the karaoke contest.

Bran wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t surprised either that she didn’t want to stick around after she grabbed the cash. She insisted on paying for dinner, which was a new experience for him, and then she practically dragged him out to his truck.

Back at his place, the constant physical need for each other consumed them both once again. He stripped her where she stood and took her to bed. This wasn’t a frenzied mating—he made love to her with deliberate leisure, eking out every ounce of pleasure he could muster. Caressing her everywhere. Feasting on her everywhere. Allowing her the same luxury. They rolled across his mattress, giving and taking. Lost in passion tinged with sweetness.

As he floated into contentment with Harper draped across his chest sleeping peacefully, he knew he wanted this—her—for the rest of his life.

How could he convince her to stay in Muddy Gap with him instead of leaving with her sister?

Especially when he didn’t understand why Harper felt she had to go where Bailey went. Bailey wasn’t a child. Granted, Bran didn’t have siblings, but wasn’t this the ideal time for Harper to let Bailey go? Make her sister stand on her own, just like Harper had been forced to do for years?

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Somehow he knew pointing that out would have the opposite reaction than he intended, no matter how tactfully he phrased it. So he was back to square one: how to convince Harper to stay with him in Muddy Gap.

Tell her you love her.

Right.

Tell her you have a boatload of money and you can take care of her so she won’t need to worry about finding another job.

Somehow he didn’t think that would matter to her either. She was stubborn and independent and determined to do things her own way.

Well, he could be stubborn too. They would have a serious talk about their future. Tomorrow. Whether she liked it or not.

Chapter Twenty

Harper kissed Bran’s sternum. Then his ni**les. She rubbed her cheek against the hair on his chest, loving the musky, warm, sexy way he smelled in the morning.

His hand absentmindedly stroked her bare back. “Is it mornin’ already?”

“Uh-huh. And we need to get started on chores.”

He groaned.

“You should be used to getting up at the crack of nothin’, cattleman.”

“I could get used to havin’ you in my bed,” he said silkily. “Let’s blow off chores for a bit. In fact, speaking of blowing . . .”

Did he really mean he could get used to having her around on a permanent basis?

No. The thought of her mouth on his c**k always brought out his sweet side. She kept it light. “I need to borrow clothes, since the only ones I’ve got aren’t appropriate for working cattle.”

“Mmm. Or you could go nekkid.” His palm connected with her ass. “I like you nekkid. A lot.”

She pushed away from him. “I noticed.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Not hardly. Where might I find clothes?”

“There’s sweatpants on the dresser. T-shirts and socks in the top drawer. They’ll be big on you, so you sure you don’t wanna go nekkid?”

“Positive.” Harper gave him a smacking kiss on the mouth. “Thanks. I need to track down my bra and underwear.”

“Follow the trail of clothes.”

She didn’t bother wrapping the sheet around her before exiting the bedroom with the sweat clothes. After all they’d done, not only last night, but for the last two months, modesty seemed . . . ridiculous.

“Such a sweet ass, sweet Harper. Why don’t you come back here after you find your unmentionables and I’ll help you put them on?”

“Nice try,” she yelled down the hallway.

He laughed. The bed squeaked.

Aha. She found her bra by the couch. Her underwear was on the coffee table. Lord. She had no recollection of how they got there beyond his frantic stripping of her the instant they’d cleared the threshold. She folded her skirt and blouse. Before she shoved them in her big bag, she dug for a hair clip and secured her hair away from her face. She picked up Bran’s shirt and held it to her nose, inhaling deeply. She loved the way he smelled. She loved everything about him—inside the bedroom and out. But confessing the whole “I love you” thing after a night of spectacularly rocking sex was something her mother would do, so that’s precisely why Harper wouldn’t do it.

Yawning, she started coffee. She heard the shower kick on. She needed to brush her teeth, but if she went into the bathroom while Bran was standing there naked and wet . . . chances were slim she’d be able to keep her hands off him.

She tidied up the kitchen. This was her last week of work as Bran’s ranch hand. Next week she’d be packing up and getting ready for Bailey’s graduation. Since Bailey hadn’t said a word about her post-high school plans, Harper assumed they’d be moving to Laramie. She’d already located a cheap motel to rent by the week until they found permanent residence. Neither of them had much in the way of material goods, so packing shouldn’t take more than a day.

Yippee.

Her enthusiasm for moving away from Muddy Gap had waned considerably.




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