License to Love by Kristen James Read Free Book Online Page B

road and
grew louder. She patted him goodbye and went to the entrance to watch Dale pull
up and help Brent out. She waited until Dale left before walking over.
    She pulled her coat closer and rubbed her nose. If she
wanted to stay, she’d have to get used to the weather at some point.
    At Brent’s door, she knocked and went in. He couldn’t get up
and come to the door, after all. Dale had left the hallway light on, and it
shone into Brent’s room.
    She sucked in a breath when she saw him with his eyes closed
in sleep. He’d rolled his head a little to one side, and the light fell on his
face. She hadn’t noticed his thick eyelashes before, or how full and pouty his
mouth looked. Add that to his movie-star cleft chin, and he had one handsome
face.
    What would it feel like to cradle his face in her hand? He
didn’t seem to have five o’clock shadow, but the light wasn’t bright enough to
tell.
    His blanket was pulled up to mid chest, leaving his bare
shoulders exposed. They were as nice as she’d suspected. She’d like to run her
hand down his neck to his shoulder and feel his muscles. His hands lay on his
stomach as it rose and fell.
    She knew she shouldn’t, but she started toward his bed. He
looked unguarded, defenseless. Sweet and sexy.
    Was she high on fresh country air? Something had taken a
hold of her since she came here. It couldn’t be this man.
    The floor creaked when she reached his bed. His eyes opened
and blinked at her. “Missy?”
    She blinked back for a second. “Thought I’d check on you.”
Blushing, she hoped he wouldn’t ask why she’d snuck into his bedroom. “How bad
is it?”
    His injury didn’t hurt his appeal. She put her hands in her
pockets, shifted her weight. Hmm, interesting floor, isn’t it?
    “I’m on bed rest for a month.” His voice was quiet and low.
“I think you’re going to be busy.”
    At that comment, she looked back to his face. There wasn’t
the normal lift in his voice or gleam in his eyes to belie his seriousness.
    She looked him over for a long minute. “A month? I don’t
believe a horse could put you in bed that long.”
    He gave it up and smiled. “A week maybe. Just some bruised
ribs.”
    “That’s a relief.” She sat down on the edge, thought about
jumping up, but tried to act like she didn’t feel awkward sitting there.
    “Is it?” he asked, his hand sliding down and brushing hers.
    “You brute!” She considered the best way to get her hands
around his neck, but she settled for a soft nudge to his chest. She just
couldn’t punch a man while he was down. “You’ve thought the worst of me since I
arrived.”
    “And you of me, haven’t you?”
    She crossed her arms, glancing off to the side in a big
show. A guitar case leaned against the wall in the shadows.
    “You play guitar?” That seemed fitting for a cowboy but the
case was too small for a guitar. “What is it, a banjo?”
    “A violin, you snob.” He wrapped an arm across himself when
he laughed. Knowing he was in pain ruined her show of indignation.
    “You know, you’re beautiful when you laugh . . . or get shy
. . . or try to ride a horse and find yourself out of control.” His fingers
grazed the back of her hand again. Suddenly she had no trouble calming down.
    “Brent, don’t . . .” She suspected he was teasing again, but
she didn’t want him to tease her along those lines. “Listen, if you’re after
someone to take care of you, I’ll help. You don’t have to flatter me with
whatever that was.”
    He pulled his hand away, with a smile on his face that
baffled her. He looked both sad and intrigued, like she’d just given him a
difficult problem to solve. Well, she wasn’t his algebra homework.
    “Can you eat with that injury?” she asked. “I made you
soup.”
    “Maybe a little.” He watched her too closely and she needed
to get out of there. So she left for the soup she’d brought him.
    When she brought it back, he asked, “Are you going to