Made Maleen by Jeanne St. James

Author:Jeanne St. James [St. James, Jeanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-01T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Mal woke up with a fuzzy brain and a fuzzy tongue, buck naked in Bray’s bed. An actual bed. With a mattress, sheets, and even pillows! There was a first time for everything.

She moaned and rolled over, hitting a brick wall. A warm, solid wall of muscle. Bray had one arm flung over his head and his other… She lifted the wrinkled sheet and peeked. Yep, his hand gripped his morning wood. He snored softly and his face appeared relaxed and carefree. Like when they were younger.

A few years after she left, she began to think back on their relationship as a simple high school crush. Distance and time tended to do that. But being wrapped in his arms last night proved otherwise. Well, not just being held in his arms, being on top, being on the bottom. Doing some old rodeo moves like reverse cowgirl and such. Her heart thumped against her chest at the memory.

She groaned at the soreness between her legs, the stiffness of her muscles. She had to remind herself they weren’t eighteen anymore and their activity had taken quite a toll on her body this morning.

Mal studied his worry-free face as he slept. Besides the scars and the creases around his eyes, there were other differences. Not just outside, but inside as well.

She thought about what he had told her last night while she sat on the couch, while she chewed on her bottom lip. Guilt seared her insides. She should have fought back against her pop’s demands, his conditions, and maybe, just maybe, life would have turned out differently for the both of them.

Maybe they would be married and happy with a houseful of kids.

Or maybe they both needed the detours their lives took to appreciate what they’d had and could have again.

Maybe, just maybe.

Can’t hang your hat on “what ifs” and maybes.

She brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. Her Cow-Boy. Her nickname for him was never about being a real cowboy like the ones who drove cattle. Oh no. Instead, it described a boy who dealt with milk cows. It had been her twisted way of teasing him, but he ended up liking being called her Cow-Boy. So, the name stuck.

His eyes popped open and a warm smile slowly spread across his face. Who would have thought something so simple, like a smile, would melt her heart?

“Hanging on to your bullwhip there, Cow-Boy?”

He appeared confused for a second, then realized where his hand rested and laughed. “Yeah. I really have to pee, but it’s going to be impossible right now.”

“Mornings will do that to you.”

“Not just mornings, but you too,” he corrected.

“I’d kiss you but I think I licked the floor last night. At least, that’s what it feels like.”

His muscles flexed and pulled as he stretched and yawned. “Mmm. A dirty mouth. Could be a turn-on.”

“Wrong type of dirty, bucko,” she said, pushing herself to sit up. Her head pounded. “Got an extra toothbrush in that tiny bathroom of yours?”

“I doubt it.

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