Outlaw Cowboy by Nicole Helm Page B

other.
    She lifted her gaze to his, trying for a flippant remark and coming up empty. Possibly because it was so easy to get lost in those dark blue eyes, to feel lulled by the warmth radiating off of him.
    A very much almost-naked him.
    Niceness and nakedness. Those two things never went together in her world, and she was almost desperate for them to.
    â€œGo,” Caleb said, his voice rough, his body still only a few inches from hers, warm and inviting. Though she doubted if she brought her gaze from his chest to his eyes there would be anything inviting about his expression.
    Except he was still here. Right next to her. She swallowed and made eye contact. Her hand betrayed her and made contact as well, fingers curling around his hand. It was a simple squeeze, but it burned and she clung to it like a last chance. “Thank you,” she breathed.
    â€œDon’t.”
    Thank him? Touch him? She shouldn’t, she knew that, but sometimes the shouldn’ts won. She was tired of sleeping alone and feeling alone. Tired of being alone, and the only way she’d ever known to abate that feeling in her adult life was male companionship.
    Caleb’s companionship would be no hardship.
    Her hand slid up his arm, the hairs of his forearm giving way to a smooth shoulder. He visibly swallowed, and for an instant she thought he might close the distance between their bodies or their mouths, maybe both. There was one dazzling moment when this thing they’d avoided for so many years felt as though it might explode between them and somehow mean something. Something good.
    She could feel it shimmering through her like sunlight, even though it was dark. The possibility of him—of them.
    â€œCaleb.”
    Somehow her voice broke the spell, and he moved away. Away from her hand, away from the room.
    He stood in the hall, expression stormy. “I’m giving you a roof over your head, no strings. You don’t need to fuck me in gratitude.”
    He could have slapped her—she had a feeling that would have hurt less. She would have understood that anyway. She couldn’t understand him seeing through her, and yet not.
    No one ever cared to see through why she was propositioning them. She supposed it was a blessing in disguise he didn’t understand the real reason. It wasn’t for a roof or because she owed him anything.
    It was simply because she was lonely, and he’d seemed truly sorry he couldn’t help. He understood so many parts of her, but he couldn’t see that she quite simply liked him.
    He pointed between them. “This is the line I will not cross. I will not.” So certain and determined.
    She didn’t get it. Was she that repulsive? That terrible? He wouldn’t even consider sleeping with her? Touching her? It wasn’t like she was asking for a ring. Just…a touch. “Why? It would be that awful?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen why?”
    â€œBecause you, Delia Rogers, have been hurt the fuck enough.” With no warning, no second to react—he reached out and closed the door.
    With him on the opposite side.
    Delia stared at the door. She could hear his footsteps becoming quieter and quieter as he retreated down the hall.
    She blinked at the burning sensation behind her eyes. In all her life, Caleb Shaw had been the only one to ever protect her. To reach out and do something for her. Even when he tried not to, even when she supposedly threatened him, he offered her a bed and a hot meal and work.
    She brushed at the tears on her cheeks and turned to the bed. She lowered herself onto it, ready to cry all over again when it was soft and perfect. It was clean, and the room was warm. Her heart all but ached with how much this meant.
    Gingerly, she took off her jacket, toed off her boots. Her limbs weren’t steady as she crawled under the covers, and her eyes remained frustratingly full of tears. She took a deep breath and tried to see this as