Buckhorn Beginnings. Lori Foster

inside her, making her thighs tingle and her toes curl. Her fever was back, hotter than ever.

       A knock sounded on the door.

       They both jumped apart, Sawyer with a short vicious curse, Honey with a strained gasp. She almost fell as her feet tangled in the forgotten blanket, and would have if Sawyer hadn’t reached out and snagged her close again. He stared down into her face, his expression hard, his gaze like glittering ice, then called out, “What?”

       The door opened and Jordan stuck his head in. He took one look at them, made a sheepish face and started to pull it shut again.

       Sawyer caught the doorknob, keeping the door open. “What is it?”

       Honey fumbled for the blanket, wishing she could pull it completely over her head and hide. It was so obvious Jordan knew exactly what he’d interrupted. Yet she’d only known Sawyer a day and a half, less if you counted how much she’d slept.

       It didn’t matter to her body, and not really to her heart.

       “Dinner’ll be ready in about ten minutes.” Jordan glanced at her, gave a small smile at her fumbling efforts to cover herself and again tried to sidle out.

       “Can you make it twenty?” Sawyer asked, apparently not the least uncomfortable, or else hiding it very well. “She was just about to bathe.”

       Jordan slanted her an appraising look, and Honey wanted to kick Sawyer. She was off balance, both emotionally and physically. That kiss…wow. She’d never known anything like it. How the hell could he stand there and converse so easily when she could barely get the words to register in her fogged brain? And how could he manage to embarrass her like that?

       Firmly, but with a distinct edge to her croaking voice, she said, “I don’t want you to hold up dinner on my account.” She made a shooing motion with her free hand, trying to be nonchalant. “Just go on and eat. Really.”

       Jordan caught her fluttering hand and grinned. “Nonsense. We can wait. Morgan is running a little late, anyway. He had some trouble in town.”

       She felt Sawyer shift and tighten his arm around her. “What kind of trouble?”

       “Nothing serious. A cow got loose from the Morrises’ property and wandered into the churchyard. Traffic was backed up for a mile.”

       Honey tilted her head, thrilled for a change of topic. “The cow was blocking traffic?”

       “No. Everyone just stopped to gawk. Around here, a cow on the loose is big news.” Then, with a totally straight face and a deadpan voice, Jordan added, “Luckily, the cow wasn’t spooked too badly by all the attention.”

       Honey bit back her smile.

       At that moment, the cat leaped off the bed to twine around Jordan’s ankles. Without even looking down, he scooped up the small pet and cuddled her close, encouraging the melodic, rumbling purr. To Honey, he said, “Go on and take your bath. There’s no rush.”

       They stepped into the hallway en masse, two powerful men, an ecstatic cat and a woman wrapped head to toes in a blanket. They nearly collided with Casey, who was liberally caked in mud. He’d removed his shoes so he wasn’t tracking anything in, but mud was on his legs clear to his knees. The shirt he’d worn, thanks to her interference—she still didn’t know what had come over her—was dirt- and sweat-stained. He looked more like a man than ever.

       Holding up both hands, Casey said, “Don’t come too close. The fields are drenched and muddy as hell…uh, heck. And half that mud is on me.”

       Jordan clapped him on the back. “Well, you’ll have to use Gabe’s shower, because the little lady wants a bath.”

       Casey stared at her.

       Honey deduced that the phenomenon of having a female bathing in the all-male household warranted nearly as much attention as a cow on the loose.

       Her face was getting redder by the second. If she didn’t have a fever, she soon would. Never in her life had bathing been such an ordeal, or been noted and discussed by so many males.

       The front door slammed, and not long after, Morgan rounded the hall, already stripping his shirt off with frustrated, jerky movements. Powerful, bulky muscles rippled across his broad shoulders and heavy chest as he stamped around the corner of the hall. He had his hands on the button to his tan uniform slacks when he realized he had an audience.

       He didn’t look the least discomforted at being caught undressing in the middle of the day, in the middle of the house, in front of a crowd.

       “Sorry,” he grumbled without an ounce of sincerity, and yanked his belt free. “I’m just heading for the shower. It must be ninety out there, and the damn humidity makes it feel like a sauna.” He pointed an accusing finger at Jordan. “It was only the thought of a cool shower that kept me from kicking that damn ornery heifer, who no matter what I tried, refused to budge her big spotted butt.”

       Jordan laughed out loud, gleefully explaining, “Your shower will have to wait because—”

       Honey, knowing good and well he intended to announce her bath once again, pulled loose from Sawyer and stomped on Jordan’s toe. Since he had on shoes and she didn’t, he looked more surprised than hurt. He stared down at his foot, but then so did the rest of the men. They all looked as if they expected to see a bug to account for her attack. When no bug was found, all those masculine gazes transferred to her face, and she lifted her chin. Just because they were men didn’t mean they had to wallow in insensitivity.

       Jordan blinked at her, one brow raised high, and she quickly stepped back to Sawyer’s side.

       Her bravado wilted under Jordan’s questioning gaze. Oh, God, she’d assaulted him! In his own home and in front of his family. Sawyer chuckled and put his arm around her.

       Morgan stared at her with bad-tempered amusement. “Wanting a long soak, huh? I suppose I can use Gabe’s shower…”

       Casey stepped forward. “After me. I claimed it first.”

       “I’m older, brat.”

       “Doesn’t matter!” And then Casey took off, racing for the shower. With a curse, Morgan started after him.

       Honey wanted to slink back to bed and hide. The bath, which had sounded so heavenly moments before, now just seemed like a form of public humiliation. She was tired and her throat hurt and her head was beginning to ache. She turned to Sawyer, stammering, “I can wait.”

       Sawyer stared at her mouth.

       Jordan stepped up and steered them both down the hall as if they were nitwits who needed direction. “Nonsense. Go take your soak. You’ll feel better afterward.” He limped pathetically as he walked, and Honey had the sneaking suspicion he did it on purpose, just to rattle her, not because she’d actually hurt him.

       They were a strange lot—but she liked them anyway.

      WARMWATER covered her to her chin, and she sighed in bliss. Finally, she felt clean again.

       Where Sawyer had found the bubble bath, she didn’t know, but she seriously doubted any of his brothers would lay claim to it. She smiled, wondering what they all thought of her. From the little bit she’d seen of them, they had a lot of similarities, yet they were each so different, too.

       Of course, that might make sense considering their mother was evidently remarried. Honey couldn’t imagine marrying once, much less twice. After the way her fiancé had used her, she wanted nothing to do with matrimony.

       “You all right in there?”

       “I’m fine. Go away.”

       “Just checking.”

       She smiled again. Sawyer had been hovering outside her door for the entire five minutes she’d been in the tub. He was something of a mother hen, which probably accounted for his chosen profession. He was meant to be a doctor. Everything about him spoke