Page 57 of Winning His Wager

Her arm hooked around his neck, and he did exactly that.

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She had lethim carry her inside, where he had put her on her feet, kissed her hot enough to scorch the wood paneling all around them—and then sent her to bed, where she’d tossed and turned chastely all night long.

Now, she was still trying to figure him out an entire day later. Dylan was going to play it safe here. She wasn’t going to do anything risky. Nothing.

Like she had told Mr. Quade McBubbles—she just wasn’t ready at this point in her life for that all-consuming kind of passion that was only ever really seen in romance novels—or when one was watching Mr. Benjamin Tyler wooing her sister Destiny Marie. Or Mr. Gilbert Tyler stalking his wife, Deputy Sage, around. Talk about firethere.

Maybe Fletcher just thought a man was supposed to act that way? His uncles certainly did—she had noticed how much the Tyler couples all loved each other.

It made a girl take notice to see other women loved like that.

And that wasn’t a bad thing at all, she decided as she pulled the quilthis motherhadmade tight over her shoulders. He was right next door, probably sleeping. He had been tired. And probably still a little bruised.

He had taken Butthead Bruce straight to the ground and given as good—better—than he’d gotten. Bruce had just played dirty, throwing gravel in Fletcher’s face and running away like the coward she knew he had to be. But she suspected Bruce getting away bothered Fletcher more than he wanted to admit. He was a bit overly protective of his Fletcher-keeper, after all.

A careless “Sorry, nephew!” from Butthead Bruce had just burned even more.

Someone needed to catch that guy and seriously kick his ass.

Fletcher had been protecting her.

She knew that was why he had been distracted. Chase Bruce, or go back to Dylan—who had been surrounded by half a dozen strange men? Of course, Fletcher came back to her to protect her.

What had Bruce been doing there, anyway?

She shivered and then threw the blankets back. She couldn’t just lie there—she was going to drive herself crazy.

There were cookies in the kitchen. Time for a snack. Then, maybe she’d text the inn. Devaney or Marin would be working the front desk still. It was time for girl talk. Or another perspective. Or someone to talk her off the ledge before she snuck into Fletcher’s room and snuggled right up against him until morning.

Wouldn’t that be akin to just walking right of the ledge intorelationshipland?

Not that she wasn’t already on that particular Google trip right now, anyway.

She was living in the man’s house. Taking care of him, and in exchange, he was taking care of her basic need for shelter, food, heat, and, well, human companionship.

She had spent more time one-on-one with her sworn enemy than she had any of her sisters since they had landed on this alien Masterson planet.

It was no wonder where she was right now felt more likehometo her than anywhere else here.

Whenever they would move, Dylan was the one who would set everything up. Make it feel like home for her sisters.

She’d keep them. Make things feel like they belonged. Were where they were meant to be.

She grabbed cookies and made herself a mug of hot chocolate. Her window beckoned. It was probably her favorite place in Fletcher’s entire house. She’d cleaned the windows with vinegar before they’d headed on their adventure. Now, she just sat there in the front window and watched the spring snow. The moon was out, reflecting everywhere, off the snow. A trio of deer were meandering through. She could see the silhouette of the mountain, if she squinted and pretended a little. It was so peaceful, here at Fletcher’s habitat.

She wrapped her quilt around herself a little better.

She really hadn’t felt at peace in Masterson before.

Not since day one. Like, definitely from day one—when a madman had held a gun to Devaney’s head and ended up shooting Dylan and everything. She rubbed the scars absently as she remembered.

No. She hadn’t felt peace since that day. Hadn’t thought she ever would. But maybe she was getting a little bit of that peace back now. Right where she was.

She watched the deer as they headed across the large yard toward the property next door. It would be Chandler Tyler’s restaurant when it opened, but where Fletcher’s house was situated, she doubted they would really even see the lights and action of the restaurant someday. There were trees there, between them.

Like, this was their own isolated little paradise. Just hers and Fletcher’s.