Her eyelids grew heavy as she lay there, and it didn’t take long to fall asleep, but it was fleeting. Some time later, the uncomfortable, body-numbing cold forced her eyes open. Her teeth started chattering as she stared at the surrounding darkness. The blankets still smelled like horses, and even though she had two of them covering her body, along with her cloak, it wasn’t enough.
A peek over the side of her cot at Clay told her the cold was getting to him, too. His blanket was pulled up so far that all she could see was the top of his head. As if he knew she was looking at him, the blankets moved, and their eyes met. Her teeth were still chattering, and when Clay sat up, pulling his blanket up in a way to seem as if he was inviting her to lie next to him, she blinked.
Was she dreaming? Her body was too cold for this to be a dream, so he really was asking her to join him.
She remembered when she and her sisters were young, right after their parents had died, there had been little firewood, so they’d all slept downstairs in front of the fireplace. Snuggled under the blankets, they'd shared their warmth, and as she looked at Clay, she realized that’s what he was suggesting.
It was improper. Lying with him would cause tongues to wag all over town, but as she stared at him, she knew they probably already were. She was here with him, alone, which meant the townsfolk could believe whatever they wanted and more than likely did. Improper or not, she was more or less shacked up with a man not her husband, and they all knew it. Or at least she assumed they did. Maybe they had paid little mind to them at all, and she was overthinking the entire situation. One thing was clear, though. It was so cold they’d freeze by morning if they didn’t do something.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she tossed her two blankets down on top of Clay, then slid off the cot to the floor beside him. He said nothing as she settled down, then pulled the blankets up around them, covering their heads in the process to trap the heat in. His arm wrapped around her waist to pull her in close to his body. The small act made her face heat and caused her heart to race. They were touching from hip to chest; the temperature change was instantaneous. Warmth seeped into her bones, and when she brought her hands up between them, his arm around her waist pulled her closer.
It was too dark to see his face, but the warmth of his breath across her cheek told her they were as close as they could be. And somehow, it wasn’t close enough.
He’d had dreams that started like this since the first time he laid eyes on her and realized those fantasies were inadequate. Having Daisy Campbell in his arms was as close to heaven as he’d ever get, and at the moment, he was fine with that.
Her teeth chattering had woken him. The soft ting of sleet hitting the barn brought his head up. As cold as he was, Daisy had to be feeling it ten times worse. He was used to the cold. Working outside, one adapted quickly, and he knew how to stay warm, but she didn’t. Sitting up and offering for her to climb onto the pallet bed with him had been pure instinct. He hadn’t thought of anything in that moment but her comfort and never questioned whether she’d join him. Now, as they lay there together, he realized how it would look to the people back home. Her grandfather would no doubt shoot him where he stood, and Daisy’s sisters? Well, he didn't know how they’d react.
Of course, given the circumstances, maybe none of them would think it too forward. It wasn’t as if he had planned on taking advantage of the situation, but now that he thought about it, it was hard to ignore how good she felt in his arms.
Her hair still held a faint scent of some flower he couldn’t name. He tilted his head a fraction, intending to get another whiff of it, but realized he’d mistaken their proximity. Their faces were closer than he’d thought, so instead of burying his nose in her hair, he brushed her cheek. Her small intake of breath made him still, his heart skipping a beat the next instant when her palms flattened against his chest.
He wanted to see her face, to look into her eyes and gauge what she was thinking, but got the answer in the next moment. Her nose brushed his chin before her breath warmed his lips. He lost all sense of reason then and lowered his head, their noses touching as he leaned in, his lips brushing her own.
There weren’t but a handful of girls he could remember kissing in his life, but the moment Daisy’s soft lips connected with his own, he knew hers would be the last he ever tasted.
Her lips parted on a small inhaled breath. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip, and that little inhale grew, allowing him to slip inside just enough to make all rational thought leave his head. The moment her tongue touched his own, he was done for.
He could tell she’d never kissed anyone before when he licked inside her mouth, but her inexperience in no way made it less pleasurable. He had the girl of his dreams in his arms, their breaths mingling as he kissed her with every ounce of pent-up need he had for her, and she seemed as enthusiastic about it as he was. She clutched his shirt in her hands, pulling him closer as she angled her head. It didn’t take long for her to learn the proper way to kiss him back, and when she did, it was all he could do not to roll her over onto her back and take her the way he’d dreamed of.
He threaded his fingers into her hair, nibbled and sucked on her bottom lip until she was making small keening noises, her legs restless as she tried to get closer. He didn’t know how long they lay there, kissing like two lovesick teens, but the moment his cock started to ache, he pulled back.
It was torture to have her so close and not be able to love her the way he wanted to. She was gasping for breath along with him, and when he heard her soft, whispered words of, “Why did you stop?” he knew she’d never see his lips to see what he said. Not that he could really tell her. How did he say his cock felt ready to explode from nothing more than a kiss from her, and not make it sound crass? You couldn’t, so he pulled her close, tilting her head to tuck it under his chin and hoped the blood pooling in his lower extremities came back to his brain soon.
Chapter 7
Clay was gone when she woke up. Daisy blinked against the dim light filtering into the small tack room and stretched out her limbs. The night before came back in a flash, and she smiled. Clay had kissed her. Or maybe she’d kissed him. She wasn’t sure now that she thought about it, but either way, she’d finally been given a proper kiss.
And it was everything she had dreamed it would be.
She grinned and buried her head under the blankets in hopes he didn’t walk in and see her looking like a crazy person grinning at nothing. A mere thought brought the memory back, and she licked her lips to see if she could still taste him on them.
She sighed. What did it mean? It wasn’t as if Clay had declared his undying love or anything. It was just a kiss, but as it was her first, it meant something to her. Had it been as world-shattering to him?
The memory of him pulling away told her it probably hadn’t been. Although if she were honest, she knew they couldn’t have kissed all night, but it had warmed her body more than his closeness and the blankets had. She’d gone to sleep surrounded by his scent, his arms tight around her waist, and she’d felt—loved. Cherished. Things she’d always wanted but doubted she’d ever get to experience.
The temperature in the barn the night before had been miserably cold, and she knew it wouldn’t get any better. Although snuggling with Clay under the blankets had been nice, it wasn’t something they could continue to do, even though she wanted to. Now that snow had fallen, it would do so for months, which meant it would only get colder. Their body heat wouldn’t be enough to keep them warm. The snow was a problem. Now that it was falling, did that mean they were trapped here in Butte until spring?
Her rumination was cut short when the blankets over her head were pulled away. If Clay standing over her, and the look on his face, had not alerted her that something was wrong, she would have been annoyed. She sat up, pushing her hair from her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Come on,” he said, waving a hand for her to get up.
He didn’t wait for her, turning on his heel and leaving the tack room. She hurried to stand, smoothing down her skirts and hair before grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around her shoulders, before heading into the barn. The air was still; her breath fogged in front of her. Clay was coming out of one of the horse stalls and motioned for her to follow him when he saw her.
Beside the wide double barn doors was a smaller, normal one. Clay opened it when she reached his side. Her eyes widened. The snow was halfway up the door, and it was still falling. “Are we going to get buried in here?”
He shrugged and turned his head to her. “It’s possible.”
A glance at the sky showed her nothing but gray clouds. The town was quiet. No one walked the sidewalks. No buggies or wagons lined the street. It was a ghost town now, with nothing but snow as far as the eye could see. Clay shut the barn door, then looked back over at the horses. She did the same. They were all covered in blankets and had been given fresh water and straw. How long had Clay been up?
