Chapter Eight
Brooks
I am not a big fan of romance books or chick flicks.
No one could ever live up to the men in those tales.
Men without error who make the grand gesture when his lady love needs it most. They know what to say and when to say it.
They’re always tall and broad with the right color eyes and the right size cock.
I might not be any of those things, but I am a man in love, so I am going to give it a shot.
Standing on the wraparound porch of the main house, I take a trembling breath.
This is either going to fix it orca fuck it up.
A distinct, tinning clang fills the air as I start ringing the ancient bell hanging on the corner post. We got it from Sterling’s pop’s farm and hung it more for show than actual use.
Still, we’ve used it from time to time to corral the crew when something important has hit the ranch.
This feels awful damn important to me.
“What the hell has happened now?” Sienna is the first to show because she hates the cattle call manner of the bell.
I grin, nodding at the bunkhouses where any man not working starts flooding our way.
Only, my gaze is locked on the lone woman in the crowd as she shoots daggers at me.
Good, it’s a grand enough gesture she cannot ignore it.
“That right there, is what happened,” I offer with a wink. Sienna has seen me sneak out of Blake’s at least twice. Her knowing smile makes me blush.
“Oh, I see. Good. I do not want to miss this,” she teases, settling on the rocking chair she often sits in to watch our shenanigans.
“What do I not want to miss?” Sterling calls as he joins us on the porch.
Shooting my cousin a look, I hesitate. All the important folks have gathered at the sound of the bell. I don’t much care about Gunner or even Caleb. I think that boy got this message loud and clear earlier. Clearing my throat, I wait for the murmurs and wondering to quiet down.
“Hey folks. This won’t take long. We’re feeding you animals this weekend—old-fashioned barbecue style.
” I ignore the stunned expressions from Sterling and Sienna; I will figure out the details later.
“The more the merrier. One more thing before you get back to it—most of you know Blake Gray,” I hesitate as all eyes swing towards her.
I almost laugh because it is clear she hates the attention.
Good. I’ll make certain she never gets their attention again.
“What you don't know yet is this: I fully intend to put a ring on that woman’s finger and give her my name. I’m going to spend every spare moment of every single day proving I love her—if she lets me.
But let's be clear. If any of you randy fucks so much as looks at her wrong, I won’t just fire you.
I’ll find a spot on this ranch to bury the body. Comprende?”
Hoots and hollers ring out from the entire crew.
Well, save for one of them. Blake storms up the steps of the front porch, advancing on me fast. I can’t help it—I laugh.
Fuck, I love her. I am sure the entire crew is loving the way she makes me react because this pretty little bird backs me up with ease.
“Since we’re making declarations,” she shouts above the din, turning to face the crowd.
Suddenly, I fear I made a big mistake. “I am Blake and I am an alcoholic. I met your stupid foreman here,” she turns to shoot me a glare that would wither lesser men, but then she winks.
Thank Christ. “On a night I was doing my damndest to fall off the wagon,” her voice wavers before I more behind her, wanting to hold her, to support her, to be there.
“Oh, Dove...” I trail off as she steps away, shaking her head.
“Your foreman here was there that night, saving me before I could. I came here to be safe again because being on a ranch, working with horses, it was the last time I was sober, the last time I felt solid. Thank you for giving me a place to find that again, and for putting up with this idgit. I give you permission to kick my ass if I try to fall off the wagon again. Oh, I also give permission for you to ignore Brooks’ orders for the rest of the day. ”
Now the crew really lets loose, and I turn to Sterling with a silent apology.
He just laughs and shakes his head, giving a jerk of his head.
He is on board with a holiday in the middle of the day, it seems. I do not miss the smile he aims at Sienna, so I figure it has more to do with her than with us.
Going up behind her, I wave the crowd off as I slip an arm around her waist. I am tentative. My girl is still a firecracker so she could try to take me out at the knees. Dipping my head, I press my face against her throat when she lets me draw her back against my chest. Thank Christ, I think again.
“Take me home,” her voice hums as she falls back against my chest.
“To the bunkhouse? They will know....”
Blake whirls on her boots to press herself against my chest. There is that softness in her eyes again, the same softness from the trail earlier.
Before I screwed up and gave her the words she is not ready for.
I gave her what I needed, which is not what this thing between us is about.
I do not regret it because I meant those fucking words, but they weren’t going anywhere.
“No, baby,” she purrs, cradling my face in gentle hands. “Take. Me. Home. Just like the first night we met, stud,” her eyes flash with heat and I am off that porch, all but throwing her over my shoulder the minute I get what she means.
I cut through the crowd I made the mistake of calling over, dismissing their dozens of questions.
How will I propose? Will she say yes? How many little cowboys will we have?
All good questions, yes. Ones I have given plenty of thought since the moment I laid eyes on her at the bar.
The answers don’t matter just yet—I will wait however long it takes to get to them.
Rushing towards my truck, I load her in, hesitating just a moment.
But I kiss her soundly on the mouth before I round the front to hop in beside her.
Just like she did that first night, she waits about fifteen seconds before she undoes her seatbelt to close the distance between us.
By the time we get to my cabin about a mile off the main property, she is settled in my lap, her soft body wound around mine the way that drives me crazy.
“Home was here all along, baby?” She wonders, her mouth working down my neck as she starts pulling at the buttons on my shirt.
“Yes. It is our ranch, but I wanted my own space,” I barely get the words out before she yanks at my head and fuses her mouth to mine.
Stumbling from the truck as a powerful wave of deja vu hits me, I storm towards the house. I no sooner get the door closed and locked behind us before her hand is wrapped around my stiff cock. This time, I want to do it right. We have things to say. We need to stop letting our needs speak for us.
Heading towards the living room—not the bedroom—I settle down on the couch. My sweet bird knows what’s up. I laugh when she gives a little pout, then teases my cock with a few strokes. I hiss out her name before I pull her hand out of my jeans, determined not to get sidetracked again.
“So,” I say. My voice sounds like sandpaper, even to my own ears.
“So,” Blake echoes with a twist of her pretty mouth. “That was... quite the speech. No one could tell you were making it up on the spot.”
I huff a dry, humorless laugh as I tap my fingers on her hips. “Yeah. Well, I thought starting it out with a promise of barbecue would soften the blow of me threatening to bury their bodies.”
“Right. The tone.” She chews her lip, and I see the pulse jumping in her neck. “My favorite part—burying dead men on the ranch. Very ranch-chic.”
“That was your favorite part? Not when I told them I want a ring on your finger and you to take my last name? It was me promising to murder a man for looking at what’s mine that did it for you? Good to know.”
Heat creeps up the slender column of her neck, a deep flush that tells me she’s finally done teasing, done dodging.
It is no simple task for her, which I appreciate.
Being honest, being raw is hard for her so I expect she might make me eat the words from my speech.
“That did it for me too. Mostly, the part about you giving me your last name. What is wrong with mine?”
“No one knows your mine while you still have it,” I offer gently, my hands sliding up her hips, beneath her top. I can’t help it, the woman drives me mad. So mad, it takes me a moment to understand her next words.
“What I mean is...who said you would not take my last name, stud?”
My hands go still on her warm skin. Holy shit. My heart thuds against my ribcage painfully. Actually, it gallops, the same way Stormchaser did on our ride earlier. Thunk, thunk, thunk. I cannot be sure it is good for my wellbeing. Or hers, if she keeps smiling at me the way she is right now.
“Darlin’, I would change my first and last name if you prefer. As long as I get to call you mine, I don’t care much about the details, Blake.”
“Ah, but the devil is in the details, stud. Let’s discuss a few details, shall we?
No more public proclamations,” she declares, undoing a button on her top.
I nod. Another button goes. I’m on board with this discussion.
“Forgive me when I want to run off sometimes, because I will,” another button goes.
My cock jerks between us. “Don’t let me run too far.
When I want to drink, dance with me, just the way you did that first night,” she suggests and I nod, swallowing when I get the briefest glimpse of the swell of her perfect tits.
I am about to dive into those teardrop titties when she grabs hold of my hair. Blake gives a hard twist. It stings but the sick fuck in me loves it. But I pay attention as her gaze seeks mine out. “Go on, darlin’ I am listening.”
“Brooks....baby, give me space to give you the words back,” she husks.
Just like that, my world is right. Righter than it ever has been before. Nodding, I swallow back a wave of emotion I don’t expect. Don’t know what to do with or how to express. She will give me the words. When she needs me to hear them. I will fucking take it.
“I can do that Dove,” I husk before I smirk at her, standing to head down to the bedroom with her clinging to me. “We’ve got the rest of the day for me to make you give me some other words.”
“Oh, that’s right...I heard the boss gave us the day off,” she teases as we fall in bed.
“Yes, he did. Now he wants to get lucky at least twice.”