Crazy Heifer (The Valentine Boys 2)

I felt like my life had just been changed, all with one single glance.

I wasn’t sure when it happened. One second, we were watching the show, and the next I woke up and my brother was standing over me grinning like a fool.

“Take her to your bed,” he ordered.

I would’ve sat up, but she was practically all the way on top of me.

Not that I minded or anything. Honestly, it was a great feeling, and I loved having her weight on me.

“Can’t,” I mumbled sleepily. “My ankle hurts like a motherfucker. I’d drop her ass and follow her down if I tried.”

“Want me to do it?” Banks asked.

I thought about that for a second, then nodded.

The position I was in wasn’t the best, or even the most comfortable. But having her in my bed, where I could stretch out, and so could she, sounded like the better plan.

Not to mention, I had a fuck ton of pillows in there that I could use.

“Yeah,” I murmured.

I didn’t want to wake her, mostly because I didn’t want for her to leave. I knew that if I said ‘come to bed’ she’d put the brakes on. And I didn’t want her to put the brakes on. I liked her exactly where she was. In my arms. In my house. And eventually in my bed.

Banks moved then, gathering Desi up easily in his arms.

“She’s all soft and warm,” he murmured teasingly.

I flipped him off and stood up, only noticing then how full my bladder was.

I hadn’t gotten up since I’d gotten home from taking the damn ass back and it was now pushing three in the morning. Not to mention, I’d downed plenty of water as well as forty-four ounces of Dr. Pepper.

“Take her to my room and I’ll be there in a minute,” I murmured, reaching for the crutches.

“Take some more Motrin,” he ordered as I hobbled away.

“Yes, Mommy,” I replied as I moved.

He snorted and went back to what he was doing, which was carrying my woman to my room.

My woman.

Shit, I liked the sound of that.

I’d have liked it even more if I could’ve been the one to carry her.

Unfortunately, that day wasn’t today. Nor did tomorrow look good, either.

“’Night, bro!” I heard called through the bathroom door two minutes later.

I took that to mean that he’d gotten her into my bed, and hobbled my way through the rest of my nightly routine before using the crutches to take me to my bedroom.

I wasn’t prepared for what the sight of her wrapped in my sheets would do to me.

It’d only been a few damn days of knowing her, but goddamn if the sight of her in my bed didn’t look absolutely right.

As if her ass was meant to be poked up slightly in the air. As if my pillow was made to go underneath that beautiful face. As if her beautiful red hair was made to be spread out and shining in the moonlight.

“Fuck,” I said, wondering how in the hell I was going to go to bed and not want to do other things to her.

But, when I took a step in her direction, my ankle reminded me exactly why I wouldn’t be doing things like that tonight.

Which was probably a good thing.

That way had a sign that said ‘can’t be good’ plastered all over it.

And with her saying that she wanted to take things slow? Well, me thinking inappropriate thoughts wasn’t how that would be accomplished.

So, like the big boy that I was, I walked to my bed—painfully, might I add—and made sure to be as quiet as I could be.

But, with the old wood of the house creaking underneath my feet, and the loudness of the stupid crutches holding up my weight, I was honestly surprised that she didn’t wake up.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, I got to the bed without waking her.

I got in the bed, under the covers, foot situated on the pillows, and hands behind my head with a pillow wedged in behind it, before I realized that I’d have to take off my pants.

I could sleep with my shirt on. I could not sleep with my pants on.

They were too constricting at the best of times. But today, with the band of the sweats around my ankle, I could practically feel it throbbing with each beat of my heart.

In fact, after moving around and doing my nightly routine, it hurt even worse than when I’d been sitting there with Desi all evening.

I was so engrossed in the pain, and thinking for real that the pants needed to come off, that I didn’t realize I was so tight and uncomfortable until Desi rolled over and looked at me.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sounding sleepy and looking beautiful.

I swallowed hard.

“Fuckin’ hurts,” I admitted. “Go back to sleep.”