Physical gratification. And the physical couldn’t replace love, friendship, respect.

All she had to do was remember David to know why a relationship couldn’t be based on chemistry and passion. Chemistry and passion would fade, and then what?

Harley didn’t want to fall in love just for the thrill of it. She wanted what she’d thought she’d had when she married David. A family. A future.

Brock’s hand slipped from her hair, to trace down her spine, his calloused palm so warm against her bare skin. “You’re thinking,” he said.

“I am,” she agreed, regrets creeping in.

“Tell me.”

She drew a deep breath, hating how quickly her emotions were changing, hating how all the good feelings were fading, leaving her scared, sad.

It was hard to feel so much, and want so much.

It was hard to care so much when she was leaving in the morning.

“Come on,” he insisted, shifting her onto her back, and rising on his elbow to look down at her. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t want tomorrow to be weird,” she said roughly.

He lifted a strand of hair from her cheek, smoothing it from her face. “Why would it be weird?”

“You know. Saying goodbye. And then leaving the kids.” Her throat ached. “It’s going to be hard to leave... them.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. Deep grooves bracketed his lips. “Just them?” he teased, dipping his head to kiss her brow, her nose, her lips.

A tingle shot through her and her tummy flipped at the trio of tender kisses. “And you.” She struggled to smile. “I kind of like you, tough guy.”

“So stay,” he said, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her chin. “Why go? Where do you have to go?”

His kisses were making her pulse race, and his words were making her want things but her head balked. Her head was practical and real. She was practical and real. She’d been swept away by passion once before and she couldn’t afford to get carried away again. “It sounds like a horribly depressing romance novel. The Housekeeper & The Cowboy.”

“Perhaps it’d sound better if you called it, The Housekeeper’s Cowboy.”

“That’s even worse.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth, and then just beneath her lower lip, making it quiver. “Maybe we just need some adjectives, fancy it up.”

“You have suggestions?” she asked.

He kissed the other corner of her mouth, lightly, so lightly that her breath caught in her throat. “How about...The Hot Housekeeper’s Lonely Cowboy.”

“Too pathetic,” she whispered, toes curling with pleasure. The man could kiss.

He nuzzled below her ear, and then kissed his way down her neck. “Your turn,” he said. “Make it good. Make me want to buy that story.”

She giggled then sighed, as his mouth traced her collarbone making her shiver and need. She pressed her knees together, closed her eyes, her body tingling everywhere. “The Hot Housekeeper’s Sexy Cowboy.”

“Now there’s a story I want to read,” he murmured, moving over her, his big body shifting between her thighs, his erection pressing against her inner thigh. He kissed down, his lips capturing one pebbled nipple. He sucked and she arched up, her hips rocking against his.

Brock’s fingers twined with hers. He slid her hands up the mattress, over her head, trapping her.

She liked it. Liked the tension in her arms, the tension in their bodies, it felt hot and raw.

It’d be so easy to open to him. To just take him. She wanted to take him, loved the weight of him, and the feel of him. Loved the way they felt together. But couldn’t make love again without protection. “Have another condom?” she whispered.

“More where that one came from… in the bunk house.”

“We don’t need The Sexy Cowboy’s Pregnant Housekeeper.”

“Not unless she wanted to be The Sexy Cowboy’s Hot Wife,” he answered, shifting so that the tip of his shaft stroked her, making nerves dance.

“Ha.”

“We’d make a beautiful baby.”

She no longer felt like laughing. Her eyes burned. It hurt to swallow. “That’s not funny.”

He released her hands, cupped her face, kissing her slowly. “It wasn’t meant to be funny.” His dark head lifted, he gazed down at her, dark eyes somber, expression grave. “I never thought I’d ever marry again. But I can see you here, with us.