UNTAMED

3. Rosie

If I could afford to call in sick to work, I definitely would. If I was in my right mind, I would just quit.

I stare at myself in the rearview mirror of my Honda minivan, debating what kind of mental problems I must have for showing up here today of all days.

They’re going to notice you did your hair and makeup. They’re going to be able to tell you wore your best bra and booty scrunch leggings.

I exhale, trying to keep myself from turning the car back on and hightailing it out of here, back to the world of logic and reason. Before I can talk myself into leaving, I open the door and march up to the house. I’m ten minutes early.

Before I even reach the front porch, the door swings open, and I make eye contact with Duke. He smiles, leaving the door open as he walks out.

“Hey, Rosie. Did you hear Holden’s back? He got out.”

“Uh, yeah, I did hear that. It’s all over town.” I push past him into the house, hoping he doesn’t want to engage me any further into conversation about Holden’s return or notice my outfit is more flattering than usual.

Working on my ex-boyfriend’s family ranch has its ups and downs, but Duke and I were able to part ways amicably and settle into a comfortable friendship. He was my high school sweetheart and my first love, but we agreed that we weren’t a good fit as a couple. The breakup was mutual, although I’d initiated it. We don’t usually hang out alone or spend much time together.

I’m still best friends with Dolly, so even if I didn’t work at the ranch, I’m sure we’d have to see each other quite often. Dolly seems to think we’ll get back together after he’s grown up a little. I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s not in the cards for us, no matter how much growing up he does. All my romantic feelings toward Duke dissolved years ago.

“I think Dolly wants to throw a party. You might have your work cut out for you today.” Duke chuckles, continuing to walk toward the barn.

I already searched the exterior for any sign of Holden when I drove up. He’s probably out in one of the back pastures with Cash and Sterling, rounding up cattle or fixing fences.

I should quit. I shouldn’t be here. My father is never going to forgive me.

Working for the Redfords has always been unacceptable to him, but when I first took the job as housekeeper and cook, I promised I would quit long before Holden was released from prison for killing my uncle Cain.

Yet here I am, showing up for work ten minutes early with my hair blown out to scrub his toilet.

Seeing him at the bull ride last night was a shock. I rarely ever go to watch unless Dolly is, but my friend Cheyenne convinced me to join her because she has a crush on one of the guys competing.

I need therapy … real therapy, not a glass of wine—or three.

He wasn’t supposed to get out for over ten years. I thought I’d have more time to process it all.

I adjust my plunging white V-neck, zipping my black hoodie up, hoping Dolly doesn’t say anything about the amount of cleavage I’m showing. This top is typically what I wear out when we go to music festivals or the local bar, not to the ranch. My tennis shoes make squeaky noises as I walk through the living room. My stomach is in knots, and I completely forgot to eat breakfast.

The Redford Ranch house looks like a shrine to a fallen cedar forest. The walls used to be decorated with so many mounted buck and elk heads that they ran out of room and had to start hanging them out in the barn. Dolly forced them to remove all of them, except for each brother’s prized kill, from the main house, which made it a much cozier environment.

The massive stone fireplace always has a roaring fire in the winter. I’ve spent many evenings curled up on the leather chair with Dolly, reading fantasy and romance novels and munching on popcorn.

“Rosie! Thank goodness you’re early. Holden is free! He’s out! The Texas governor granted him clemency! He’s pardoned—like it never happened. I can hardly believe it! I’m leaving now to go get all his favorite things, but I wanted to see if you could start today by deep-cleaning his room. I know no one has slept in there since he left, but I just want to make sure it’s perfect for him.” Dolly is talking a mile a minute, scurrying around the kitchen with a notebook in hand, scribbling on it as she counts the beer bottles in the oversize fridge before moving over to the pantry. Her black hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s still in her pajama pants.

“Yes, I heard. I’m happy for you! No problem. Duke said something about a party?” I set my purse on the kitchen counter before picking at my nail beds.

“YES! Holden has no idea, and I want it to stay that way. He needs to think it’s low-key, family only—you get it. I’m just so excited, and I want him to know how much the whole town wants to welcome him home.”

Is the whole town going to welcome him home?

I nod, reaching for a water bottle in the fridge to keep my hands busy. Dolly is still darting around the kitchen, not even glancing in my direction.

“I guess I’ll go get working on that.”

“When I get back from the store, we’ll start the food!” She flashes a grin at me.

“Okay.” I force a smile.

I head down the hallway toward the laundry room, where the cleaning supplies are. After grabbing the bathroom caddy and a pair of green rubber gloves, I make my way down the hall to Holden’s room. I inhale a deep breath before knocking loudly. After a few seconds of silence, I push open the heavy solid wood door.

The large room has an enormous king-size bed right in the center. The rough-hewn wooden posts on the corners are eight inches thick. The frame has a copper-brown-and-white cowhide overlay. The neatly made bed holds four pillows and a bedspread of faded oranges and grays in an Aztec pattern. There are no fancy throw pillows or extra blankets. The wood floor has a black-and-white cowhide rug strewn across it.

I expected to see some kind of luggage or maybe an orange jumpsuit in the corner of the room, but all that’s there is the worn leather armchair next to the end table. The only light in the room is from the two lamps—one beside the bed and one by the chair. There’re a few streams of sunlight pouring in from the sides of the closed curtains in front of the window.

The whole room smells like raw leather. I always take a deep inhale when I come in here to dust.

I walk up to the en suite bathroom door, knocking loudly. The last thing I want to do is walk in on the oldest Redford brother while he’s in the shower.

I’ve caught Holden in a compromising position before, but once is enough to last me a lifetime.

There’s no answer, so I push open the door. The bathroom is in the same state it was the last time I cleaned it, which was months ago, just to keep it dust-free, at Dolly’s request. I don the rubber gloves and get to work.

After scrubbing down the double sink area and the mirrors, I move over to the toilet room. It’s spotless, but I clean it anyway.

Once I finish the bathroom, I move into the bedroom. I remove the gloves and strip the sheets from the bed. I find a set of clean white ones in the hall closet and begin to make the bed. I’m leaning over to straighten the comforter when I hear the door squeak open. I don’t turn to look, expecting Dolly to speak up and tell me she’s leaving for the store.

“What are you doing in my room?” a deep voice speaks from behind me.

My spine snaps straight. I slowly stand up, my copper-red hair hanging like a long curtain in front of my face, blocking my view of him. I tuck it back behind my ear, peering up at the tall, built form standing in the door.

Holden.

His arms are folded over his black T-shirt. Mud splatters are covering his clothes and muscled arms. His jaw is set, and I notice he’s shaved since last night.

Holy shit, his shoulders have gotten massive.

I didn’t have much time to look him over at the bull riding event, but I can’t help but do it now. His dark eyes are shadowed by his brows, which are furrowed in clear distaste for me. I bite my bottom lip. His eyes drop down to the movement before meeting mine again. He flexes his jaw, waiting for my response, and I realize too much time has passed since he spoke.

“I, uh … I was just cleaning up.” A flush creeps up my chest.

He steps closer to me, boots scraping across the floor. “You and Madi can keep trying, but flashing those tits in my face and showing up in my room ain’t gonna get you anywhere with me.”

My skin prickles when I realize that he thinks I’m here to seduce him.

And he just threw me in the same category as Madi.

She’s only grown more hopelessly obsessed with him in the last three and a half years, telling the story of their rendezvous in the barn over and over, to the point that no one even knows what parts are true and what she’s embellished.

Supposedly, he proposed and wrote her love letters from behind bars.

I clench my fists by my sides. “I work for your family now actually. I was told to clean your room this morning. But if you must know, my tits will never be anywhere near your face, and the only way I’ll ever enter your room by choice is when I’m getting paid to clean it.”

I bend down to grab the last pillow off the floor, tossing it onto the bed. Holden cracks a smile, taking a step toward his bathroom.

He lifts the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one motion. I try not to stare, but my mouth waters immediately at the sight of his rippling abs.

He sure didn’t miss a day at the gym …

He starts to unbuckle his belt before slipping the button out of the loop of his jeans.

“Is shower assistance part of your job description too, Dixon?”

I jut my chin out, crossing my arms and spinning on my heel as I march out without bothering to shut his door.

I can’t believe him. Seduce him? Ugh, what an entitled jackass.

Ex-convicts aren’t my type.

Typical Holden, expecting women to throw themselves at him and worship the ground his filthy boots stomp around on.

“Scrub your own damn toilet next time,” I mumble under my breath.