Read Online Into the Arms of a Cowboy by Isabella Ashe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Isabella Ashe
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freezer. Not so much as a stray Snickers bar or a stale Oreo. Oh, Jess wasn’t exactly a health-food fanatic. She found a bag of Fritos, a package of Nutter Butters, and a whole gallon of strawberry ice cream.
“Men,” she muttered under her breath, in the disgusted tone of voice she usually reserved for dumb TV sitcoms and really bad drivers. She would never understand the male species. Strawberry. Yuck.
She indulged in a couple of the peanut-shaped cookies instead, which provided a sugar rush but failed to quiet her cocoa cravings. She left the dishes to soak in the kitchen sink. It was barely 8 o’clock, but after a frantic night and a day in the sun, her eyelids kept slipping toward half-mast.
After helping herself to a clean T-shirt from the closet--and noting with a jolt of fear the star-shaped sheriff’s logo emblazoned on Jess’s tan uniform shirts--she showered and got ready for bed.
Before she mounted the ladder to the loft, however, she paused to check on Jess. He lay on his side, the hard planes of his face shadowed and golden in the glow of a single lamp. He slept with one arm pillowing his head, the other flung back behind his body. Relaxed, he looked years younger, almost vulnerable despite his broad shoulders and obvious strength. Even as she turned away, an unexpected wave of tenderness swept through Cassie.
She climbed the ladder and found a cozy bed tucked under the sharp angle of the roof. Bent over to avoid banging her head on the rafters, she set the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. It would be a long night. Dr. Liu had given clear instructions about waking Jess every two hours to make sure the head injury hadn’t worsened.
Cassie crawled under Jess’s quilt. She curled into a fetal position while she waited for the sheets to warm up. The pillowcases, though clean, smelled faintly of Jess’s musky cologne. The ache of need intensified, made all the more confusing because she wasn’t sure what it was she needed.
Sex? But that would definitely lead to complications. Such as emotional involvement. Even love. And, to put it mildly, she and Jess didn’t have much of a future together. He was a cop. She was a fugitive. Not exactly a match made in heaven.
Outside, it had begun to rain. The heavy drops pounded the roof like hailstones. Cassie tossed and turned on the too-firm mattress. What a mess. What a miserable, complicated, world-class mess.
In spite of her exhaustion, sleep came hard that night.
“Jess? You okay in there?” Cassie called through the bathroom door.
Jess shut off the hot water, grabbed a towel, and hopped from the shower, keeping his bandaged, plastic-wrapped ankle clear of the floor. Cassie took her nursing duties seriously, maybe too seriously. He vaguely remembered her shaking him awake several times during the night to check his pupils. “I’m fine,” he hollered back. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be out.”
In fact, he did feel better. His headache had faded to a faint, unpleasant throb in the back of his skull. Even the ankle didn’t hurt too badly. He glanced down at his bare chest. The bloody tracks across his ribcage had scabbed over already.
She rapped on the door. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
Jess scowled into the medicine cabinet mirror. Maybe he should invite her in for a second shower. Ask her to soap his back. The possibility intrigued him. It also provoked a very powerful, very male response. “Thanks, but no thanks,” he yelled, chuckling.
He shaved, then pulled on a pair of clean shorts. When he swung himself out of the bathroom on his crutches he found Cassie still lurking at the door. She wore nothing but one of his faded T-shirts, though on her it was large enough to skim the top of her kneecaps. Her sleep-tousled hair fell down her back. A sexy flush warmed her pale skin, and he noticed that the bruise on her cheekbone was a shade lighter today.
“Cassie, I’m okay, really,” he said.
Her eyes
“Men,” she muttered under her breath, in the disgusted tone of voice she usually reserved for dumb TV sitcoms and really bad drivers. She would never understand the male species. Strawberry. Yuck.
She indulged in a couple of the peanut-shaped cookies instead, which provided a sugar rush but failed to quiet her cocoa cravings. She left the dishes to soak in the kitchen sink. It was barely 8 o’clock, but after a frantic night and a day in the sun, her eyelids kept slipping toward half-mast.
After helping herself to a clean T-shirt from the closet--and noting with a jolt of fear the star-shaped sheriff’s logo emblazoned on Jess’s tan uniform shirts--she showered and got ready for bed.
Before she mounted the ladder to the loft, however, she paused to check on Jess. He lay on his side, the hard planes of his face shadowed and golden in the glow of a single lamp. He slept with one arm pillowing his head, the other flung back behind his body. Relaxed, he looked years younger, almost vulnerable despite his broad shoulders and obvious strength. Even as she turned away, an unexpected wave of tenderness swept through Cassie.
She climbed the ladder and found a cozy bed tucked under the sharp angle of the roof. Bent over to avoid banging her head on the rafters, she set the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. It would be a long night. Dr. Liu had given clear instructions about waking Jess every two hours to make sure the head injury hadn’t worsened.
Cassie crawled under Jess’s quilt. She curled into a fetal position while she waited for the sheets to warm up. The pillowcases, though clean, smelled faintly of Jess’s musky cologne. The ache of need intensified, made all the more confusing because she wasn’t sure what it was she needed.
Sex? But that would definitely lead to complications. Such as emotional involvement. Even love. And, to put it mildly, she and Jess didn’t have much of a future together. He was a cop. She was a fugitive. Not exactly a match made in heaven.
Outside, it had begun to rain. The heavy drops pounded the roof like hailstones. Cassie tossed and turned on the too-firm mattress. What a mess. What a miserable, complicated, world-class mess.
In spite of her exhaustion, sleep came hard that night.
“Jess? You okay in there?” Cassie called through the bathroom door.
Jess shut off the hot water, grabbed a towel, and hopped from the shower, keeping his bandaged, plastic-wrapped ankle clear of the floor. Cassie took her nursing duties seriously, maybe too seriously. He vaguely remembered her shaking him awake several times during the night to check his pupils. “I’m fine,” he hollered back. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be out.”
In fact, he did feel better. His headache had faded to a faint, unpleasant throb in the back of his skull. Even the ankle didn’t hurt too badly. He glanced down at his bare chest. The bloody tracks across his ribcage had scabbed over already.
She rapped on the door. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
Jess scowled into the medicine cabinet mirror. Maybe he should invite her in for a second shower. Ask her to soap his back. The possibility intrigued him. It also provoked a very powerful, very male response. “Thanks, but no thanks,” he yelled, chuckling.
He shaved, then pulled on a pair of clean shorts. When he swung himself out of the bathroom on his crutches he found Cassie still lurking at the door. She wore nothing but one of his faded T-shirts, though on her it was large enough to skim the top of her kneecaps. Her sleep-tousled hair fell down her back. A sexy flush warmed her pale skin, and he noticed that the bruise on her cheekbone was a shade lighter today.
“Cassie, I’m okay, really,” he said.
Her eyes
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