Page 86 of My Favorite Hero

“Even though I’m a pain in the ass?”

I delved my hand into her long hair and pulled her close. “Right now, you’re my pain in the ass. I’m good with that. You certainly keep me on my toes.”

Our eyes met and locked, the air turning warmer. The sadness in her eyes drifted away, and desire replaced it.

“Jesse?” she whispered, breathless.

“Pixie,” I replied, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. I was determined, whatever she wanted, whatever she needed in this moment, I would give her. We didn’t have forever, but we had right now.

“You said something about a cowgirl?”

I smiled as I pulled her close. “You wanna ride me like a bronco, baby?”

“Giddyup.”

I lay awake long after the ride. And the ice cream in the kitchen that led to a messy sundae being made on her stomach and me eating it off her. That resulted in another shower.

And another blow job.

I rather liked the way my days off transpired now.

I rolled over, looking at her. Once again, we’d broken the rules, and she was staying the night. Her cat was curled into my dog at the foot of the bed now that it was a peaceful place. Casey was nestled next to me, her head on the pillow, her long hair everywhere. I smoothed it off her face, staring at her.

Her story bothered me. I hated how alone she’d been all her life and that the only person to unconditionally love her was gone.

I understood why Lou was so intensely private about her past life. She’d lost a little girl she thought of as her own, and it had hurt her terribly. The two of them needed each other, but because of an uncontrollable illness, a broken friendship, and a selfish mind-set, they were denied that chance.

But through some twist of fate, I got to have Casey—at least for a little while. Neither of us believed in forever, but we could be happy in the moment. I had to admit, I liked her. More than I could recall liking someone in a very long time.

And I trusted her—something I never thought I would do again.

I studied her in the dim moonlight from the window. She looked tiny in my bed, and I often forgot her small stature when she was arguing with me, her chin high and her eyes flashing in defiance. In the shower, I had seen the bruises she’d given herself trying to carry the ladder. And I was worried I’d been carried away manhandling her, but she told me off, letting me know her thoughts on the subject loudly. I loved that about her. She was tough, independent, yet I spotted moments of vulnerability. Like when she told me about Lou. Or later, when she relived the memory that took her to the tree. I had laughed with her but saw the flitting sadness in her eyes as she told me about making the huge wind chime rope and hanging it.

I wished I could give her back more memories, but I was uncertain how. Then a memory Lou shared with me once hit me, and I picked up my phone, scanning the weather for the next day.

Maybe I could help her. Make her smile again.

I was shocked how much I wanted to do that.

I set aside my phone and pulled her closer. She nestled in with a little sigh, resting her hand on my heart.

As if it belonged there.

As if it belonged to her.

I pushed that incredibly stupid idea out of my brain.

This was for now.

That was all.

Even if it felt right.

As I had learned, nothing was forever, and love was a fickle thing.

Right now was always the best idea. No one got hurt.

The laughter in my head was loud at that thought.