Oh.
I open one of the compartments by the bunk and pull out a throw blanket, tossing it to him. Pulling my own blanket over, I lay back down, staring into the dark. Every time Hadley rolls over or readjusts, the van moves. An hour later, I’m practically seasick. I sit up and wriggle my ass to the edge of the bunk before slipping down off it and padding to his shoulder.
“Let’s go. On the bunk, cowboy.”
His eyes fly open. The blanket is tucked around his shoulders as he lies on his side. On the hard floor.
“Sorry, just give me a minute to fall asleep and I’ll be out like a light, promise.”
That option doesn’t really appeal to me, either.
I take his blanket and earn myself a protest as he sits up with a shiver. He really doesn’t do air con. I lean over and turn the unit off.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Have another way of staying warm?” The words leave my mouth before my brain gets a chance to vet them.
I’m so glad he can’t see the blush that just covered my face.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Maggie.”
“You don’t.” The words are soft but sincere.
He hauls his huge frame from the floor and crawls onto the bunk, hitting his head as he tries to fit in the small space. I huff a laugh and he looks back at me. It takes me a second to realize he’s holding out a hand.
I take it, warmth enclosing around my hand as his closes over mine. The sensation is too much and not enough. I scramble onto the bunk and wait until he’s laying down. I lift the sheet over him.
Me, I hover, sitting on the bunk and taking him in. His large frame hangs over the end of the bed.
“Lay down, Maggie.”
“In a minute . . .”
Something like butterflies take flight low in my belly as I take in the angles of his face, the toned ridges of his shoulders. The corded arms folded over his defined chest to make more space for me.
Finally, I lay down. Flat on my back. The van is still cool and my hardened nipples brush against my tank. With the heat of Hadley’s body warmth in my bed, I could lose myself entirely to this. Instead, I roll over, hands pressed together under my head. “Tell me what makes you tick, Hadley Jones.”
“Is this an interview, Gallagher? Or you and I getting to know each other?”
Huh. Perceptive man.
“The latter,” I breathe.
He chuckles, low, soft and the rumbling sound does something to my insides.
“Well, my three sisters and my mom are my life, ranch aside. My dad’s not around, so Kayley and me take care of the ranch. Mom, she...”
I pop up onto an elbow, frowning lightly as I try to read his expression in the dark. It’s sad, and I am desperate to touch him, to soak up his sadness and carry it away for him if I could. “What happened to your dad?”
Was he a rodeo man who met his untimely end like mine?
“He left with the milk when I was twelve, didn’t even bother sticking around to see his fourth child take her first steps. So I worked the ranch before and after school. Mom tried, she really did, but between losing the love of her life to his poor choices and having a baby... You can imagine how it went.”
“That would have been so hard for her.”
My own mother only had me to take care of. Her parents were her financial support while I was little before she took on the lodge.
He sighs, and the weight of it inflicts more emotional damage than his words. “She’s never been the same.”
