“Not that I made any progress.”
Her smile glowed in the half light. “You never know with kids. It may take some time, but I think you planted a really strong seed in her mind. She was definitely thinking on it. And she seemed pretty relaxed with Trace at dinner. It was kind of cute to see this big cowboy cutting up her meat, fetching her milk. She let him dab her face with the napkin.”
“He did look kind of comfortable in father mode. Like he was actually enjoying it.” Ty had been amazed at the smiles that little girl could pull from his brother.
“So did you.”
Chapter 13
After a few miles of silence, Mandy had given in to exhaustion and slept the rest of the way back to the hotel. Now, as she stood in the hotel room fresh from her shower, clothed in an oversized T-shirt and facing a bare-chested, jean-clad Ty, who had stretched out on the king-sized bed, she felt a tug of desire and an overwhelming need for closeness. Resisting him these last days had required mental discipline and physical restraint.
Here she was only a week in and her resolve was waning. What did that say about her character?
What it said was that her grandfather had purposely rigged the outcome by making them cohabitate in the same bedroom. It was easier, though still hard enough, when they had separate beds. But here she was, in a hotel room with that gigantic king bed containing a lounging Playgirl fantasy man.
A man who was so much more complex than she realized. A man whose life had been more difficult than she knew. A man she found herself far more attracted to than she had counted on.
Perfectly relaxed stretched out on the bed, he thumbed through his phone screens, his powerful shoulders resting against the tufted headboard, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his legs hugged by denim pants, and his bare feet crossed casually. And all she wanted to do was snuggle up against all that muscle and let him kiss her senseless.
He lifted his head, and she was caught in the crosshairs of a pair of shining dark eyes. It felt like some internal cyclone was propelling her toward him as his gaze dropped from her eyes to her neck, then to her breasts covered by cotton fabric, where he lingered an extra heartbeat before moving down past the hem to the length of her legs in a slow appraisal that pulled a trail of heat with it.
“You left the seat up, again.” It was easier focusing on the toilet seat than on the man sending lust beams from his spot on the bed. She’d found the toilet seat up a few times during their time together, and having a brother, she was used to it. But if they were going to be together for six months, she figured he should at least try to remember.
“Sorry. I’m not accustomed to living with anyone. I’ll be more careful.” Ty patted the spot next to him. “I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to, that is.”
Feeling like she was walking on a cliff’s edge, she moved toward the bed and settled her bottom on the far side from where he lounged. The cool, shimmery sheets sent a warning shiver through her.
“It was nice to meet Trace. And little Delanie. And see the ranch.” Normal conversation, that’s all they were having tonight. She hoped she could keep that promise to herself.
“Ranch isn’t quite up to Prescott’s standards, is it? And the drought has really decimated his herd. He needs to rebuild it, and soon.”
She tucked that information away. “At least he’s trying. Does that ranch date back before your father?” Seeing where he’d been raised, meeting his brother, had increased her curiosity, made her want to know more.
“My mother’s parents owned it.”
Mandy turned toward him, stretching out the length of the bed. “Speaking of parents, it must have been tough on you and Trace, losing your mother so young. What did she die from again?”
A car accident had taken Mandy’s father. There’d been no time to prepare, no warning that hugging him before he left for that meeting would be the last time she’d ever hug him. She’d often wondered if it was harder or easier knowing the end was near, and she had come to the conclusion that it was rough all the same.
“She killed herself.” The deep voice that spoke those words was flat, emotionless. And only added to Mandy’s shock.
She remembered he had lost his mother. That was what had her feeling a connection with him way back when. But it hadn’t been suicide. She would have remembered that.