“Are you tired of helpin’ me with every little stupid thing?”
“Nope. Especially since you argue with me less than you did at first.” He paused for a beat, then added, “I like havin’ you around, Riss. You make me . . .” He stopped, embarrassed because he’d been close to confessing his loneliness.
“What?” she prompted.
“Nothin’ that won’t keep. Come on, let’s get you ready,” he said gruffly.
For once, finishing his chores went by way too fast. Ike found himself making up an excuse that he needed to run into Rawlins just to keep Riss with him. She appeared to be enjoying his company, chattering away with random thoughts and observations that had him laughing, cringing and just plumb tickled to see this vivacious side of her coming back to life.
Plus, she amused the hell out of him. He’d caught her regaling the clerk in the paint section of the hardware store with an alternate reality of how she injured her arm. This time she detailed her mishap of driving an ATV across frozen Flathead Lake on her way to her cousin’s ice fishing camp. He dragged her away from the male clerk’s rapt attention for the clerk’s own good, since the perverted motherfucker was looking for Ike to kick his ass due to his inappropriately intense focus on Riss’s amazing tits—not on her story.
After a quick fast-food lunch, they returned to Ike’s place. He insisted after so much activity that Riss needed to rest. She argued. But he herded her to her bedroom for a nap anyway.
That night, they watched old westerns. By the time the second movie ended, Riss had finished her popcorn and most of his. She decided he made a better cushion than the couch and curled up on her left side, with her butt pressed against his hip and her legs across his lap.
Ike watched the third movie alone, content to stroke her leg and occasionally brush her hair from her face as she softly snored next to him.
The next morning, once again Riss was up early to accompany him on his livestock check.
And the morning after that. Ike had been looking forward to another night of cooking supper for Riss, and then binge watching more episodes of Jessica Jones on Netflix, but that afternoon, while Riss napped, his sister Kay called, completely freaked out. Her heater wasn’t working, the maintenance guy had the flu and she swore she smelled natural gas. So Ike scrawled a quick note for Riss and drove into Rawlins to deal with the situation.
Ike didn’t leave Kay’s apartment until five hours later. He’d spent most of his time waiting with his panicked sister for the gas company to show up. Kay hadn’t offered him food, so he was starved and cranky. Plus, he worried that Riss would attempt to cook for herself—a nearly impossible task since the woman couldn’t even use a can opener—since he wasn’t around and she’d be as hungry and annoyed as he was.
But there was a strange pickup in his driveway. He parked in the garage and entered the kitchen to find Riss sitting at the table with her brother Lloyd, drinking beer and playing cards, an empty pizza box between them.
Riss smiled at him. “So you didn’t blow yourself up fixing Kay’s heater. I wondered since I hadn’t heard from you.”
“Funny. I had to call the gas company to figure out the problem.” He glanced at Lloyd. Talk about disconcerting, looking into green eyes identical to Riss’s but they held none of the warmth or humor hers did.
“Well, Lloyd called with good news about your semi and I mentioned bein’ hungry, so he showed up with food. Now I’m reminding him why he hates playing gin with me. But we can switch to poker and deal you in, if you’d like.”
Ike’s stomach rumbled. “Maybe after I eat something.”
Riss’s eyes narrowed. “You rode to Kay’s rescue, spent hours with her and she didn’t bother to feed you?”
He shook his head.
“Dude, that sucks. It’s a good thing I saved you some pizza.” She pointed with her beer bottle. “It’s in the fridge.”
Little things like this . . . Ike hadn’t realized how much he needed someone to give that to him until Riss did. Her thoughtfulness humbled him; he was supposed to be looking after her. He gave her a soft smile. “I appreciate it.” He met Lloyd’s gaze. “Thanks for bringing food.”
“Gotta make sure my little sis is getting what she needs and she knows I’m just a phone call away if she isn’t.”
Lloyd’s meaning wasn’t a threat, but the intent very clear; Ike was on notice.
Later that night after Lloyd had left and Ike and Riss were more or less snuggled up on the couch, he sensed she had something on her mind.
“Darlin’, your tongue is gonna be bloody if you keep bitin’ back what you wanna say to me, so spit it out.”
“I hate that your sisters take advantage of you. Seems like all they do is take and don’t give anything back. My brothers are bossy and nosy as shit, and yes, they do things for me if I ask. But I do things for them too, yet, that’s not all we are to each other.”
“I see that. But things have always been this way between me and them.” He stroked her back. “I don’t know how to change it. Ain’t like I was gonna tell Kay to man up and figure out the issue herself when there was a chance it could be a life-threatening problem. Your brothers wouldn’t leave you to deal with something like that either, sweetheart.”
“I know.” Riss made a low-pitched purring sound when he pressed his fingers more deeply into her spine on a slow downstroke of his hand.
For just a moment, Ike imagined that sexy noise vibrating against his throat as Riss arched into him, their naked bodies sliding together as he moved in and out of her body, right here on the couch, with the TV on in the background, both of them so crazy for that intimate connection they couldn’t make it to a bed.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“Sounded like you growled.”
I did. It’s the sound I make when I can’t have what I want. “Just clearing my throat.”
“I’m tired. I think I’ll call it a night.”
“Okay. I might stay up and catch an episode—”
“You are not watching Jessica Jones without me!”
That gave him the response he’d wanted; Riss to stay snuggled up with him for another hour. “Fine. But if you fall asleep and start snoring, I will carry your ass to bed.”
She snorted. “Hand me the damn remote.”
And sure enough, Riss conked out. He hit pause and watched her sleep before closing his eyes . . . just for a moment.
Hours later, Riss woke him up, her arms flailing about and nearly clocked him in the head with her cast. “What happened?”
“It appears we fell asleep in front of the TV.” Then the alarm on his phone started pinging.
“Jesus, Ike. Is it really five a.m.?”
“Yep.” He discreetly brushed his lips across the back of her head before he shifted to sit up. “Go back to sleep. I got this.”
“No. Way. You promised me steak and eggs after the stock check chores this morning, remember?”
Yeah, but I wasn’t sure you would. “Well, get movin’. I’ll start the coffee.”
“Can you help me sit up? Feels like I’m fallin’ into a sinkhole.”
“Hang on.”
As soon as he freed her left arm trapped against his chest, she used it to grab onto the back of the couch. She balanced on one knee as she straddled Ike’s lap.
The expression on her face when they were this close had him holding his breath.
“It’s not fair that you look like a million bucks even with bedhead and rumpled clothes.” She slid her palm up his chest, over the cotton barrier blocking her from direct contact with his skin. Her hand continued its ascent until the tips of her fingers connected with his neck. She paused to trace the line of his jaw and then scraped her nails through the scruff on his lower cheek. “I like that this is darker than the hair on your head.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s sexy. Everything about you is sexy.”
Ike shook her shoulders slightly. “Riss, darlin’. Wake up.”
Those sleepy green eyes met his. “What?”
“You’re paying me compliments and touching me so obviously you’re not fully awake.”
“I was fully awake when you kissed the back of my head about two minutes ago.”
Ike blushed.
“I’m fully awake now. Fully aware of you in ways that I shouldn’t be, Ike Palmer.” After she dropped that bomb, she actually dismounted from his lap like she was getting off a horse. “Go start the coffee or something.” She hustled down the hallway.
He definitely wanted to start something, but it wasn’t a pot of coffee.
* * *
The next couple of days Ike and Riss fell into their new normal routine. Doing chores first thing, then running errands, then he fed his patient and forced Riss’s afternoon nap, which she fought him on but ultimately ended up taking anyway.
A phone call from his sister Jen that his niece and nephew missed him kicked in his guilt. He hadn’t seen Mikayla or Elijah for a couple of weeks. He agreed to hang out with them while Jen attended her continuing education class.
Riss said nothing about Ike being on babysitting duty. She informed him that Louie might be coming over, so he would take care of dinner.
Before he left for Rawlins, Ike paused outside Riss’s bedroom door to ask if she needed anything. But he could hear through the opening she was on the phone—speakerphone—with someone.
A male voice said, “You’d only get half of the money, but it’s still better than nothin’.”
Riss responded with, “I know and I appreciate your out-of-the-box thinking, Louie.”
“Just think about it. I’m pretty sure Tito will be okay with it. But we can talk more tonight.” Louie paused. “Dickhead ain’t gonna be there, is he?”
Ike’s jaw tightened. Dickhead? Really?
“You mean Ike? No. He’s been roped in to babysitting duty.”
“Good. I ain’t in the frame of mind to make nice with him.” A pause. “He’s treatin’ you good, right sis?”
“Very good. Too good maybe.”
That caught Ike’s interest.
“What’s that mean?”
“We spend so much time together—we’ve gotten close.”
“How close?” Louie demanded.
“Falling asleep watching TV together kind of close. Doin’ chores together kind of close. He still bosses me around constantly, which annoys the piss out of me. But he is sweet and thoughtful.”
“And . . . ?”
“And nothin’. We’re just friends. That’s it.”
Ike couldn’t tell if she was complaining.
“I don’t give a shit how hard you try to convince me you were kidding about bein’ involved with him, I know there’s something goin’ on between you two. That kiss wasn’t just for show. That kiss was the real deal.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, but we’re both denying it. It’s easier that way.”
Ike was absolutely floored.
“Look, can we drop it? I just wanna chill out tonight with you and ignore all the complications in my life. I miss your stupid face.”
Louie laughed. “I miss your stupid face more. See you in a couple of hours.”
He knew he should skedaddle before he got caught eavesdropping, but he couldn’t believe that Riss considered him just another life issue to deal with.
Why?
When a text buzzed asking if he was on his way, he quietly slipped out, his thoughts pulled in a million different directions.
After a long night of playing Legos and Barbies with his niece and nephew, all Ike wanted was another beer and his bed.
So it made zero sense that he bypassed the fridge and the staircase to the second floor and wandered down the hallway to her room instead.
She’d left the door cracked—which he took as an invitation.
He ducked into the room and sauntered across the carpet.
Immediately she struggled to sit up. “Ike? What the devil are you doin’ in here?”
“Just checking on you. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You sure?”
“Will I sound pathetic if I admit I’m at loose ends?”
“Yes. How dare you interrupt my much-needed beauty sleep.” She pointed. “Remove thyself from my chambers at once, scoundrel.”
“Never a dull moment with you, Thorpe.” Then he sat on the edge of the bed. “You should get up. I don’t think my heart could stand it if you got any prettier.”
She leaned closer and sniffed. “Aha. You have been drinkin’. That explains the sweet-talking.”
“One beer. That’s it. I’m just sharin’ the gospel truth.”
“You are a silver-tongued devil,” she murmured. She yawned and stretched her left arm above her head, giving him a peek of the creamy skin between her belly button and her hips.
He had an image of running his mouth along that strip of skin, over and over, until she squirmed like crazy and arched into him, begging for more.
“Ike?”
His gaze snapped back to hers. “Uh, yeah?”
“You’re staring at my panties.”
Busted.
Her eyes glittered with a challenge. “If you want more than a peek at my panties, just ask.”
What would Ms. Smarty-Panties do if he called her bluff? Still act bold? Or retreat?
Time to find out.
“Thanks for the offer, darlin’.” Ike ripped the covers back and crawled across the mattress until he was looming over her. “I do want a better look. Roll over so I can see if there’s lace covering your cute butt or more of that sexy see-through material.”
“Jesus. I was kidding!”
No you weren’t.
“What has gotten into you?”
You. You’re under my skin in a way you’ve never been. I’m as afraid of acting on this attraction as I am of just ignoring it.
“Ike?” She placed her hand on his chest. “You okay?”
Her simple touch rocketed through him, short-circuiting his brain. “No. I’m . . .” He locked his gaze to hers. “Literally seeing you in a whole different way. Did you know your eyes are flecked with gold? Makes that beautiful green stand out. I never noticed that before.” His gaze searched her facial features, from her broad forehead and the arch of her eyebrows to the freckles spattered across her nose and her apple cheeks to the curve of that sensual mouth accentuated by her full lower lip. Before, he’d only noticed the stubborn set to her jaw, not the cute dimple at the end point of her chin.
“Are you tryin’ to seduce me?”
Maybe. “I’m just admiring what’s always been there.”
“I’m the same as I’ve ever been.”
“I know. Which is why it’s so goddamned confusing that this feels new even when it’s not.”
“Well, cowboy, this”—she gestured to him being on all fours above her—“definitely isn’t the same old, same old.” Her lips curled up. “And while I’ve got you all het up like this, admit that kiss to convince Louie we were together wasn’t solely for his benefit.”
“That’s what you and Louie talked about tonight?”
“One of the things. You did a damn good job convincing him, because nothin’ will deter him from the idea that we’re really together. Now, confess, Palmer. That kiss . . . ?”
Ike groaned. “It felt real, okay? But don’t bring up that kiss when I’m this damn close to your lips and I’m tryin’ like hell to remember you’re a guest in my house. An injured guest.”
Riss’s smile faded.
“What?”
�
�The way you flip-flop between hot and cold with me is frustrating as fuck.”
“Part of my charm . . . isn’t that what you always say?” Ike chuckled when she swatted at him. “So the offer to see the backside of your panties is off the table?”
“Ya think?”
He bounced off the bed. “Come into the kitchen for a midnight snack.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Do it anyway to keep me company.”
“No. Stop bossing me around. You’re not one of my brothers, Ike.”
“But for the time being I am your keeper. And when I say you need to eat, it’s because you need to eat. When I say you need to rest, it’s because you need to rest. So quit bein’ a pain in my ass—get that cute ass up and into my kitchen because there’s some stuff we need to talk about.”
“At midnight? I don’t think so.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“It’s coiled in the corner ready to strike because you interrupted an awesome dream.”
He played his trump card. “I’ll bake cookies. Soft, rich, warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies. Isn’t that tempting you a little?”
“It’s more tempting every day to murder you in your sleep,” she grumbled.
“Come on, Riss. Please.”
“No. I’m tired, you’ve been drinking, add in a late night sugar buzz and we might be tempted to do something we’d regret when we’re wide awake, sober and not riding the sugar train.”
“That’s kind of what I’m hoping will happen.”
Ike laughed when the pillow she whipped at his head missed him.
“Fine. Go back to sleep. Don’t say I didn’t offer.”
“Offer me what?”
“Whatever you want.”
Riss studied him for several long moments. Then she said, “You can’t give me what I want.”
“Which is what, sweetheart?”
“My real life back.”
That sucked the wind right out of his sails. “I’m tryin’ to help you create a new normal.”
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