Read Laying Down The Law (#4, Cowboy Way) (The Cowboy Way) for Free Online Page A

off enough for her to sleep, she thought, as she threw back the chenille bedspread to crawl under the sheet naked.  Unless her dreams were filled with Brock Cooper like they had been constantly when she was a teenager. 
    In her dreams now though, Melanie knew instead of the tall, teenage jock with amazing blue eyes and thick, wavy hair who owned the world both on and off the football field, she’d see the new and improved version.  The cowboy version, which she’d definitely developed an appreciation for since living in Texas. 
    This new man would wear a black Stetson that shaded his brooding blue eyes, making him appear mysterious, dangerous.  He would be just a bit taller, but a lot more muscular than his teenage counterpart.  He’d still carry himself with cocksure arrogance, but it would be accompanied by a sexy, snarky attitude.  That image, that man, was entirely too dangerous for her adult peace of mind.  Almost dangerous enough to make her want to push him at the diner just for the pleasure of having him frisk her.
    Melanie skimmed her fingers over the tips of her breasts and shivered when they puckered.  She smoothed one hand down her stomach and as it moved south, she closed her eyes to focus on that image, because she also knew her adult dreams wouldn’t be of kisses under the bleachers after a game, since she wasn’t a sixteen-year-old virgin anymore.
    ***
    The sun tinted the white curtains in Brady’s bedroom orange, as Brock hugged him tightly and rocked him as he moaned.  With every whimper, his insides clenched tighter until he wanted to moan too.  Last night he’d been up twice to go to the bathroom, once to throw up again.  Brock lifted his hand to smooth back the hair from his sweaty brow and his insides froze when a clump came off between his fingers. 
    “You’re going to have to stay home today, kiddo.  I’ll go by the school and talk to your teacher—explain that you’re sick.  She’ll let you make up the test.” 
    Or Brock hoped she would. 
    Mrs. Lawrence was getting frustrated, as was the principal, with the number of days Brady had missed so far this year.  As smart as he was, as good of grades as he earned, he might have to repeat the first grade if he couldn’t make it to school the state required number of days to make a full year.   They’d have no choice but to retain him is what they’d said at the last parent-teacher conference.  Brock just could not make him go though—he was too damned sick.
    He and Dr. Melanie Fox were going to have a chat this morning.  Brock needed some help, because it seemed the twenty or so doctors that Lucy had brought Brady to see didn’t have a clue what was wrong with him. 
    Melanie Fox would know.  She was just about the smartest person he’d ever met in his life, crazy smart, and he had no doubt she was an excellent physician.  He knew if she couldn’t help him, she could at least point him in the right direction to find some help.  Maybe recommend a specialist they could take him to see.
    The question was—would she help him? 
    After the way he’d treated her at the diner when he stopped her last night, he wasn’t sure.  But her condescending, superior attitude had rubbed him the wrong way.  Brock was desperate, so he’d apologize, take her sour attitude and condescension—he’d take whatever the hell was required to get answers for his son.   He wished he could take whatever sickness it was that was causing his child this misery for himself.
    The bedroom door opened, and Lucy stood there in a see-through short red nightgown.  Her blonde hair was artfully messed on her head, and from the lipstick on her mouth it was obvious she had been up for a while and there was no reason for her not to be dressed.  Other than she wanted him to see her in that damned nightgown.
    “Morning, baby,” she said, making a big production of stretching her hands over her head, so her breasts stretched the lacy fabric of her