Montana Dreams by Anna J. Stewart

Author:Anna J. Stewart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-07-14T19:30:39+00:00

* * *

PEYTON’S EYES SNAPPED OPEN.

The room was pitch-black and smelled of cedar and rain. The world was silent. She sat up, pushed her hair out of her eyes. Montana, she reminded herself. She was in Falcon Creek, Montana. On the Blackwell Ranch. With Matteo and his son.

What had woken her up? Normally she slept like the dead, but now that she thought about it, she’d heard something odd. Something that sounded... She reached up and snapped on the bedside lamp, leaping out of bed. When she pulled open her bedroom door, she looked immediately to the tiny figure sprawled half-in half-out of the blankets on the sofa bed. Gino continued sleeping, mouth open, snoring little-boy snores that would have amused her if she hadn’t shivered at the sudden cold.

The front door stood open. And just beyond, standing on the porch, hands braced on the railing, Matteo stood in the moonlight and the autumn rain. His head was bowed as he shifted his feet restlessly.

Barefoot, she padded silently toward him, drawing the door partially closed. “Matteo?”

“Sorry.” He answered as if he’d felt her presence. “Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay. I thought it was Gino at first.” Arms tucked in around herself, she suddenly realized silk pajamas were not Montana-friendly. “I was afraid maybe he’d had a bad dream.”

“No.” Matteo shook his head, still not looking at her. “That was me.” He took a deep breath. “Go back to bed, Peyton.”

“Can’t.” She checked her watch. Four o’clock. “Once I’m up for the day I’m up. I can’t sleep in, even when I want to.”

“Sorry,” he apologized again. “Nightmares sneak up on me. Today must have brought too much back. I’ll get it under control.”

“Don’t apologize.” He wanted her to leave him alone. That much was clear by his clipped tone and his refusal to look at her. But Peyton wasn’t one for doing what people wanted. Not when it was obvious they were in pain. “You want to tell me about the dream?”

Now he looked at her, the disbelief and panic in his eyes reminding her so much of Gino her heart stuttered. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.” Ignoring the cold, she took a seat in one of the two rocking chairs by the door. She curled her legs in, wrapped her arms around them. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be standing out here freezing in just pajama bottoms.”

It was hard not to notice. That bare back of his was sublime in its definition. The way his hips tapered in and the muscles in his arms tightened as he struggled to find his way out of the hold of the dream. As much as she’d thought about Matteo Rossi—and she’d thought about him a lot over these past few weeks—her fantasies hadn’t come close. With that almost too-long dark hair of his and faint scruff on his jaw, he looked like a wounded warrior praying to the moon for guidance.

“You’re going to freeze out here yourself,” he muttered as he turned to her.

She shrugged. “It’ll help me shiver off dinner.

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