No Strings Attached (Last Hope Ranch Book 1) by Amanda McIntyre Page B

safe and warm.”
    The lights flickered once again, then they were plunged into darkness.
    “Seems like we have our answer, then,” Aimee stated. “Sally, he can use the couch, right? Since we’re all bunking upstairs?”
    “Well, yes. I suppose….”
    Clay held up his hand. “Okay, ladies, I have to confess something. Rein asked me to stop by and check in on you. I honestly think, that given the circumstances, he would prefer if I were to stay. Just in case.”
    Small flickers of light began to appear in the sitting room. Kaylee appeared with a candle. “I don’t know about you all, but if there’s a vote, then I say he stays.”
    Clay looked at the floor and chanced a look at Sally. “Only if Sally is comfortable with the idea.” He waited, closely watching her expression.
    “I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.” She reached for the candle Kaylee held and started up the stairs.
    “Sally?”
    She paused, looking over her shoulder at him. She was a damn fine-looking woman in bright daylight, but in candlelight she could stop a man’s heart. “Thank you. I’ll go get some more firewood.”
    She nodded and, without discussion, went upstairs.
    As it turned out, Rein and his brothers were indeed relieved to hear he’d stayed. Not that he was much help, other than to bring in firewood. He sat on a kitchen chair and listened to more about this Buckle Ball.
    Sally’s organizational skills mystified him. She seemed to have the details of this event down to a gnat’s eyebrow and given the willing ladies around her, she wasn’t afraid to delegate, showing the skills of a firm leader. They hadn’t asked much for his thoughts over the next couple of hours, but he was content to drink some orange juice and watch the five friends. Their laughter, inside jokes, and animated conversation reminded him of his squad, and better times.
    Sometime later, the group, now tired, began to drift up the stairs. Sally was the last to go up after checking both the front and back doors. The electricity hadn’t come back on yet, and while the house was chilly, it was tolerable with a layering of clothes.
    “Are you going to be okay on the couch?” she asked as she watched him unfold the blankets she’d brought down.
    He glanced at her and tipped his head toward the blazing fire. “I feel kind of bad that I’ve got this. You sure you ladies are going to be all right up there?”
    “Hey, five women snuggled together in a king bed. We’ll be like bugs in a rug.”
    Clay raised his brows. “Can’t argue with that.” He snapped open another blanket. “Hopefully, the utility company will have the power back up by sunrise.”
    She nodded. “Okay, then. Goodnight.”
    Clay bit his lip in thought, glancing at her departing form. Hell, he had no idea if this was a good time or not, but he spoke before he could consider otherwise. “Sally? Have you got a minute? I wanted to speak with you.”
    She placed her hand on the rail and looked at the steps before she turned to look at him. “It’s been a really long week and I’m beat. Maybe it could wait until another time?”
    Clay shrugged, averting his gaze to hide his disappointment. “Absolutely. It’s not important. You get some rest and thanks again for letting me crash here.”
    He turned his back and tugged his shirt from his jeans as he sat down, shrugging out of his flannel shirt and down to his faded T-shirt with Army across his chest. He considered the wisdom of removing his leg and, laying back on the couch, decided to leave it on. He cradled his hand under his head and propped his good leg over the arm of the couch. Which he realized in short order was a vintage Victorian-type sitting room couch, just barely wider than his torso. He shifted, pulled the blanket over his shoulders and closed his eyes. Dreams—nightmares—mostly, were hit and miss these days, depending on his mood and how much he had to drink before retiring
    “You know, we can move the cushions to the