Midnight Thunder

She held on to them and stepped back. “Look, I don’t want to tell you how to do this, but—”

“But you’re about to.”

“It’s just that the cabin should be vacuumed before you take these out there or they’ll get all dusty.”

He paused. “Damn. You’re right. Okay, we’ll just pile this stuff on the couch until I’m ready for it. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Which is why—”

“Don’t start with me.” He glared at her as he walked back into the living room. “I’ll be fine as long as I keep moving. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?”

“You have a headache.”

He laid the blankets on the couch. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. You have that squinty look.” She deposited the sheets on top of the blankets. “You should at least lie down for a while.”

He turned to her with a sigh. “Let up on me, okay? I’m doing the best I can with a shitty situation.”

Remorse hit her. She’d allowed fear for his safety to turn her into a nagging pest, which wasn’t getting either of them anywhere. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“I know.” His voice gentled. “And you’re right about everything. I’m sure you’d be more efficient at getting the cabin ready. I should accept your generous offer and get some sleep. But I doubt I could sleep. I’m way too keyed up about Mom, and—” he paused “—about you.”

She met his gaze. This might not be the time, but they wouldn’t be alone like this much longer. “Would you ever have come back?”

“I don’t know.” He hesitated. “But I’m here now, and it’s like I never left. No, that’s not right. I want you as much as ever, even when you’re a pain in the ass. I think I want you even more than I did before, but what used to be simple...isn’t.”

The heat in his eyes made her tremble. “It was never simple.”

“Oh, sometimes it was. On a hot summer night when nothing mattered but taking off our clothes and losing ourselves in each other, it seemed pretty damned simple.”

She was stunned into speechlessness. That brief, honest description hurled her back to those nights, and she ached for him as fiercely as she had then. In his mind, the sex had been fun and uncomplicated. She’d been the one who’d loaded down the relationship with expectations.

He blew out a breath. “But obviously that’s not how you remember it. Let’s postpone this discussion, okay? Just point me in the direction of the vacuum cleaner so I can get started.”

She should do that and go about her business. But there he stood, so jacked up with worry and sexual frustration that he couldn’t get the sleep he needed. She was pretty tense, too, but the few hours of rest she’d had meant her brain wasn’t completely fried. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“We’ll fix up the cabin together, so it’ll go twice as fast. Then you don’t have to feel guilty about me doing it while you’re lying in a guest room staring at the ceiling.”

He looked unsure, but at last he nodded. “I guess that’ll be okay.”

“I’ll get the vacuum cleaner and a laundry basket so we can carry everything at once. Oh, and you’ll need towels and washcloths, so pull some of those out of the closet. And bars of soap.”

“Yeah, I forgot about that stuff.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I need to shower and get rid of this scruff before I go to the airport, or they’ll think I’ve turned into a vagrant.”

“Then you might as well bring your duffel, too.”

“Makes sense.”

Wow, that part had been easy. Her plan could still fall apart at any point along the way, and if it did, oh, well. But so far, so good. Anticipation and a slight case of nerves made her shiver as she headed for the laundry room where Rosie kept her canister vacuum cleaner.

Moments later they left the house with Cade lugging an oversize laundry basket full of linens and the vacuum. Lexi carried his duffel. Too bad she didn’t have X-ray vision so she could see what was inside. When they’d been dating he’d always carried condoms, but that didn’t mean he had any with him now.

He paused to gaze at the rugged Bighorn range, still dusted with snow above the tree line. “I’ve missed those mountains.”

“So you didn’t get attached to the ones in Colorado?”

“Oh, they’re pretty enough, but these feel like home.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if that meant he might be moving back. But that was a loaded question. Instead, she resorted to a weather comment, always a safe topic. “It’s a beautiful day.”

He glanced up at the blue sky dotted here and there with white puffy clouds. “It is. Good weather seems weird when you have a crisis. Seems like it ought to be raining.”

“I’m glad it’s not, with sleepy people driving around.”

“I know you’re worried about that, but don’t be.” He started off toward the cabins again. “I’ll be okay from here to the airport, and I can always put Damon behind the wheel once he gets here.”

“You should definitely do that.” She fell into step beside him. “Unless he’s been up all night, too. Maybe I should drive you.”

“No. Much as I appreciate the offer, I’m not being chauffeured to the airport to pick up my bro. That would be lame.”

“Okay.” She doubted he’d ask Damon to drive, either, but at least having a passenger should help keep him alert. Cade liked to think he didn’t need any help, ever. That had been part of the problem when she’d been focused on wringing a commitment out of him.

They approached three tidy log cabins grouped in a partial semicircle in a meadow about thirty yards from the main house. In the center a ring of wooden benches surrounded a fire pit that had seen many cookouts. A shared washhouse behind the cabins had kept the plumbing costs down, although Lexi hadn’t envied those boys having to go out there in the winter. But all the boys had acted as if trudging through the snow to wash up had been a test of their manhood.