Lies And Lullabies: Courting the Cowboy Boss. Yvonne Lindsay

told her he wanted her to stay away. The loud silence hurt. Even though she thought she understood why he hadn’t made contact, her feelings were bruised. In truth, she might have to assign someone else to continue cleaning Case’s house. The situation was likely untenable.

      Telling herself not to be maudlin and foolish, she wandered into the kitchen and found a paper plate and some plastic utensils. She was too tired to worry about cleaning up after herself, and since she had unloaded the dishwasher only an hour before, she didn’t want to make a mess.

      She was moments away from scooping out a small serving of pasta when her phone made a quiet noise. Her heart pounding, she wiped her hands and glanced at the screen.

      Are you busy?

      It was Case.

      No. Are you hungry?

      She told herself she was only being a Good Samaritan. That she wasn’t throwing caution to the wind and launching herself willy-nilly into a situation that was wildly inappropriate. Feeding a neighbor in need was a Texas tradition.

      Her phone buzzed again.

      I’m starving.

      I made lasagna. Would you like me to bring you some?

      I don’t want to interrupt your evening.

      She smiled in spite of herself.

      It’s no trouble. See you soon.

      Working rapidly, she covered the casserole dish and wrapped it in towels to keep it warm. The loaf of fresh bread from the bakery in town could be heated in Case’s microwave. Even if Dr. Reese had provided lunch for his friend, that was a long time ago. She didn’t want Case to wait any longer than necessary.

      On the way out to the ranch, she lectured herself. Stay calm. Don’t let him bait you. Treat him like a brother.

      There were two problems with that last suggestion. Number one—she’d never had a brother. And number two—her reactions to Case Baxter bore no resemblance at all to sibling affection. He disturbed her, provoked her and made her want things.

      Unfortunately, the trip was not long enough to gain any real handle on the situation. Before she knew it, she was unloading the car and making her way up the steps of Case’s home. With her arms full, she had no choice but to ring the bell.

      It was almost a full minute before the door opened. Case stood there staring at her, the planes of his face shadowed in the harsh glare of the porch light. “Please come in,” he said.

      In the foyer, he insisted on taking most of the load away from her. As she followed him to the kitchen, she couldn’t help but notice the way his gray sweatpants rode low on his hips. In the midst of the cheery room she had worked so hard to organize, the lighting was better. Now she could see all of Case. His navy cotton shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a white T-shirt underneath that clung to the contours of his muscled chest.

      When she could tear her gaze away from all that male magnificence, she saw—as she’d suspected—that he was definitely not 100 percent. His eyes were sunken and his hair was askew. But he smiled.

      “This smells amazing, Mellie.”

      “I hope you like Italian food. I suppose I should have asked about your preferences before I fixed something.”

      “I’m not a picky eater.”

      He set the containers on the table and pulled out her chair. “Let me get you a glass of wine,” he said. But she noticed that despite his polite manners, he was weaving on his feet.

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She resisted his attempt to make her take a seat. His skin was clammy and his hands unsteady. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Sit down, Case. Now.”

      Surprisingly, he obeyed, but said, “I don’t expect you to wait on me.” The statement was a shade on the belligerent side.

      She handled him the same way she would a fractious toddler. “You’re not well. Sit there and rest while I get things ready.”

      He didn’t argue, but his gaze followed her as she moved around his kitchen. His eyes were dark, his unshaven jaw tight. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “For what happened when you were here before.”

      She shot him a look. “You mean last night?”

      His jaw dropped noticeably before he snapped it shut. Dark color slashed his cheekbones. “I don’t remember much about last night.”

      For once, she had the upper hand. He was juggling a healthy dose of discomfiture. It was almost funny to see the suave, self-assured cowboy off his game. “Not much to remember.” She set a plate of food in front of him. “Eat it before it gets cold.”

      He grabbed her wrist, not painfully, but firmly. Enough to stop her in her tracks. “I made inappropriate remarks about your clothing. I kissed you. I’m sorry.”

      Resting her hand on his shoulder, she let herself lean on him. “Don’t be silly. You gave me a compliment. I was flattered. And the truth is, you’re not my boss. You were right. We’re equals. A man and a woman.”

      “And last night?”

      When she slept in his bed, holding him in her arms? “Last night was nothing,” she said. “You were sick. I couldn’t very well leave you here alone. I’m glad you’re on the mend.”

      When she sat down and took a bite of her lasagna, she almost choked at the look on Case’s face. His laser stare made her squirm in her seat. There was no way he could know for sure. He’d been too feverish and addled to understand that she had held him like a lover, doing everything she could to give him comfort.

      He finally picked up his fork, but he never took his eyes off her. “Parker told me I lost an entire day...that I had a very high fever. He said I might have ended up in the hospital if you hadn’t been here to look after me.”

      “I think your friend exaggerates. It was no big deal.”

      Case leaned across the table and put his hand over hers. “It is to me. Thank you, Mellie. For everything.”

       Eight

      Case knew he had shocked her. Hell, he had shocked himself. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy. Beneath his hand, Mellie’s fingers were soft and delicate. An impression at direct odds with what he knew to be the truth about the woman. She was strong and independent. She didn’t need a man to take care of her. Which made it all the more inexplicable that he had the strongest urge to do that very thing.

      He forced himself to release her. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She had the look of a rabbit frozen in the grass, trying to appear invisible.

      Mellie shook her head. “I’m not uncomfortable. But I’m trying to figure you out.”

      When he made himself take a bite, he realized how hungry he was. He chewed and swallowed, weighing her words. “I’m an open book.”

      She snorted and tried to cover it up as a cough. “Um, no.”

      “Explain yourself, woman.” He waved a fork in the air. When Mellie smiled at him, he felt a tug of desire low in his belly.

      “First of all,” she said, “you’re wealthy and available, but you don’t date. At least not in Royal.”

      “How would you know that?” She had him spot-on, but that was beside the point.

      “I have my sources.” Now her smile was wry.

      “Go on.”

      “You’re a self-professed privacy junkie, but you know everyone in town, and you are so popular and well regarded the powers that be elected you president of the Cattleman’s Club.”

      “Liking