6. Colton
Chapter 6
Colton
“I ’m knockin’ off for the day,” Wyatt informed me from the doorway of my office inside the big red barn. He leaned against the door, one foot crossed over the other, his thumbs hooked into his belt loops. “You plan to work all night?”
I looked up from the inventory spreadsheet and sighed. “Why are you suddenly so concerned with my working hours?”
His lips pulled into a teasing grin. “I think we both know why. You’re working more hours than usual, burning yourself at both ends.” It’s why I hired Wyatt: he didn’t let my bad attitude bother him in the least. “It’s not good for you or the business.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted because I was. I wasn’t uncomfortable around Molly as she’d said, and I wasn’t working more hours to avoid her, like Wyatt was insinuating. “Things have to get done around here, and it’s my name on the ranch.”
Wyatt’s gaze narrowed. “Everything is getting done, but you’re doing too much, and the hands are getting worried that either you think they’re not working hard enough, or the ranch is in trouble.”
Shit. I let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in my chair. “The business is fine, better than ever in fact.” Adding sheep’s milk and goat cheese really took our products into the gourmet market, and it’s been a resounding success according to the accountant.
“Then maybe you ought to act like it. I don’t need a bunch of overworked ranch hands trying to keep up with you because you refuse to face what’s right in front of you.”
“This again?”
Wyatt pushed off the door with a shrug. “It’s probably a good thing you’re as blind as you are.”
“Yeah, and why is that?”
“No reason,” he said in that way that told me there was a specific damn reason. “Just stay here for another hour or so before you head back to the big house. Nothing you need to see over there.” He flashed a challenging smile when I stood. “Peanut Butter and the other horses took to her like flies to honey. Billy did too.” And with those parting words, Wyatt whistled to himself as he left my
office.I knew he was screwing with me. I knew it. Still, I made it all of five minutes before I left my office, turned out the lights, and walked faster than usual to get back to the main house, curious to see if Billy was hitting on my nanny. And if he was?
Instead of seeing my horseman flirting with my nanny, Hunter’s nanny, I saw something worse. Far worse. It was Molly, with her round ass high in the air and tight shorts that barely covered that beautiful backside, which left miles upon miles of creamy, honeyed skin on display. Hunter knelt beside her, elbow-deep in dirt. “Mud pies for dinner?”
Molly gasped and then peeked at me over her shoulder, which only gave me visions of her on all fours, staring at me just like that. She laughed, and her smile lingered. “Not unless you have a hankering for mud pies.”
I had a hankerin’ for something, and it wasn’t a mud pie. “Not particularly, no. What are you doing?”
She frowned. “Fixing up the garden.”
“I’m a gard’ner, Daddy!” Hunter held up his dirty hands and arms with a wide, happy smile on his face.
I looked at Molly again—or her ass because that’s what was facing me. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I grew up on a small farm, and I can grow pretty much any flower, fruit, or vegetable around. But,” she sighed and swiped a forearm across her forehead, “if you don’t want me to, I won’t. This is your land, after all.”
Did I care if she tended the woefully neglected garden? Hell no. But I couldn’t handle her in those damn tiny shorts every single evening when I came home. “Do it if you want, but I don’t expect it.”
She lifted her chin defiantly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I will.” She turned back to the dirt, effectively dismissing me.
I watched her for a long moment, smiling as she whispered instructions to Hunter, who was happy to do whatever she asked. She hadn’t turned around even once or given any other indication that she was aware of my lingering presence. I smiled to myself, unsure how I felt about being dismissed on my own damn ranch. I wasn't sure if I was annoyed or just plain turned on. I made my way upstairs, happy that we’d managed to get everything done that needed to be done today, but that was the thing about life on a ranch; there was always more to do tomorrow.
But for tonight, I could relax. No, I would relax and have dinner with my son and his cheery nanny. I would do it without confirming her belief that I was uncomfortable around her. I was uncomfortable as hell, but she didn’t need to know that the discomfort came from the spot behind my zipper. That was my business and mine alone.
The best solution to my current problem came to me in the shower as a vision of Molly appeared in nothing but some strategically placed soap suds. I needed to rub one out before dinner so I would be the picture of relaxation at the table, and since one flash of Molly’s gorgeous tits had me hard as a rock, it took no time at all for me to grip my cock, picturing her on her knees, eyes smiling up at me as she took me in her mouth. Deeper and deeper she took me and moaned her own pleasure as if the taste of me was enough to make her wet. To get her off.
In mere minutes, I was exploding; streams slammed against the tile walls before sliding down and disappearing into the drain. “Oh, fuck!” My body jerked several times until the last of my orgasm escaped. Every muscle in my body relaxed, and a slow smile spread as I finished my shower.
I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist with a heavy sigh. I felt like a dirty old man, but I also felt ready for dinner with Molly, a dinner that I demanded to save my ego. Why? I knew why. It was that damn sparkle in her green eyes that challenged me, dared me to deny that I’d been acting strangely in her presence during that first week. And the second week.
I sat on the bed and stared at the floor, thinking about things I had no business thinking about. “Get it together,” I growled to myself, hoping that dinner would not include forcing me to stare at Molly in those itty bitty shorts. Who wore daisy dukes to garden?
A knock sounded on the door and startled me out of my thoughts as if the person on the other side of the door could read my mind. I stood and went to the door, gripping the knob. I sighed and opened it.
“Oh!” Molly’s eyes widened almost comically as she took in the sight of me in nothing but my towel. Her gaze darkened as it performed a lazy dance down my body, over my shoulders and pecs, down my abs, and to the slight bulge behind my towel, which grew bigger the longer she stared at it. “Wow,” she whispered in awe, and my cock twitched in response. “Oh. Shit. Sorry.” She smacked a hand over her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry.”
“What do you need, Molly?”
She turned away and sighed with relief. “Hunter is exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open, so I gave him a sandwich and some apple slices, and he’s all tucked in. He wants to say goodnight to you.”
“I’ll be right there,” I bit out through clenched jaws because all the good my shower jerk-off session had done was gone. Vanished. Like it never fucking happened.
“Yep. Fine. Good.” She waved a hand behind her as she took off down the stairs.
Despite the aching erection, her actions made me smile.
I dressed quickly and wished my son a good night filled with good dreams after he got me to read one bedtime story—of course—and then headed down to the kitchen. “What in the hell smells so good?”
Molly gasped and whirled around, her gaze tracking over me quickly before she met my eyes. “Bison and veggie stir-fry with coconut rice. Does that meet with your approval?” Her teasing tone and raised brows made me smile.
“Depends on how it tastes,” I answered honestly, grabbing a cold bottle of beer from the fridge, grateful she’d changed out of those damn shorts. “Need some help?”
“Nope. It’s just about done.” She moved the veggies around in the skillet and turned to smile at me over her shoulder. “You seem like a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, but I planned a stir-fry because it’s a great way to make veggies fun for kids.”
“Why do I seem like a meat-and-potatoes guy?”
She tilted her head back and laughed as she turned off the burner and dumped the steaming mixture of meat and vegetables into a large serving bowl. “Look at you,” she began, setting the bowl in the middle of the table before motioning to me. “Big rancher guy. Gruff. Bison. Over-the-top masculine. Meat and potatoes.” She shrugged and went back for the rice. “Not a judgment, just an observation.”
“Nothing wrong with meat and potatoes.”
“Nothing at all,” she agreed as she took the seat opposite me. “And easy to make after a long day working the ranch.”
My shoulders relaxed at her words. She understood. “Exactly.”
That earned me a glorious smile. “Eat up.”
We piled food on our plates and started eating in silence before I felt Molly’s gaze on me. “What?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to apologize about earlier and ogling you. I didn’t mean to—well, I guess I did mean to, but it was inappropriate, and I apologize.”
This woman had to be a fantasy. Maybe I was in a coma and all of this was just a hallucination. Who apologized for staring at a man the way she had? Not one woman I’d ever met. “It’s okay.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not okay. Please, just accept my apology.”
“No.” I smiled at her shocked expression. “You don’t ever need to apologize for appreciating the way I look.”
A blush suffused her cheeks, and she shook her head. “Whatever.”
I laughed, which was something I felt like I didn’t do enough of unless I was with Hunter or listening to the guys’ dirty jokes. “So, Louisiana, huh?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yep. A small town just outside of New Orleans. Close enough to pop in for some fun but far enough away that going felt like a treat. You grew up here?”
“I did,” I said and took a long pull of my beer. “It was just the bison throughout my childhood, but after college I took over and diversified, adding the sheep and goats.” Dad had been adamantly opposed, but he’d stuck to his word that I was in charge.
“Why sheep and goats?”
“Figured we could sneak into the gourmet market with gourmet cheeses of our own, and we sell the milk to other well-known cheese makers.”
“Wow, that’s a great idea. Your parents must be proud.” Her smile and her praise were genuine, and there wasn't one comment about how lucrative the idea was. “I’d love to try one of your cheeses.”
“Soon. I promise.”
Molly nodded and went back to her food for a few bites before she spoke again. “Tell me about your wife. Hunter says he doesn’t remember much.”
“How could he? He was little more than a baby when Sara died.” I shook my head at the unfairness of it all. “We got married young. Sara got pregnant when I was still in college, and so we got married. We lost the baby, and it wasn’t the first.” A bitter laugh escaped. “It was the first of many over the years. We did everything—natural and in vitro—and nothing worked.”
“I’m so sorry, Colton.”
I believed her shaky words. “Finally, we gave up. It cost too much, financially and emotionally. About three months later, we found out we were pregnant. Again. Wonder of wonders, she carried him to term.”
Molly smiled. “Your miracle baby.”
“That’s what Sara called him too.” She’d been so damn happy; we both were. “And at her thirty-seven-week appointment, they found the cancer. She delayed treatment until after she gave birth. Hunter was barely two when she died.”
Her hand went to her heart. “My goodness. She didn’t even get to see him grow up. Heartbreaking. I’m sorry to, um, bring all that up.”
I shrugged it off. “You were curious.”
“Yes and no. Hunter wants to know about her, and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a tragic death or something before we started talking. I was thinking we could go through any photos you might have or her parents. Anything so that he can get to know her.”
I stared at this woman who was so much more than a beautiful face and a hot body. She was a good damn person with a big heart, and she was trying to give my boy the one thing I hadn’t even tried.
“Or not. Maybe you can just tell him about her,” she hesitated.
“No, it’s a good idea. I just can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Colton. You have a lot going on here while also coping with losing her yourself.” She sighed and shook her head, a sympathetic grin on her face. “Just, whenever you get a chance, I’d love to grab some things for him.”
“There are a few boxes in the attic. I’ll get them down for you.”
“Thanks. Now I have an even more serious question.” Her big green eyes stared at me for a long time.
What the hell could be more serious than my dead wife? “I’m listening.”
“How do you feel about chocolate chip cookies?”
My lips spread into yet another smile before a laugh escaped. “Well, the stir-fry was damn delicious, so I’d say I feel curious to try ’em. Let’s start with three and go from there.”
Molly laughed, and it was the sweetest, most feminine sound I’d heard in too damn long.
And I only stared at her ass for five seconds when she went to get the cookies.
Okay, ten seconds.
Fifteen tops.