CHAPTER SEVEN
– ROSETTE –
I guide Freckles to the front of the stables and I slowly lean back to make her stop.
Swinging my leg off, I lean on my belly first and in one move slide down to let my feet hit the ground.
The sound of more hooves than just Freckles catches my attention when I guide her into her stall.
My eyes widen when I watch as Cedar puts his black stallion in one of the empty stalls in the back.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask while I remove Freckles’ saddle.
“Making time to talk to you,” he rumbles and mirrors my actions.
“You…you can’t leave your horse here,” I sputter.
He walks along with me into the tack room to place his saddle, along with the headstall, on an empty spot.
“This is insane. Why are you here? We have nothing to talk about. Does your father even know you’re here?” I point at the gorgeous purebred.
“I’m sure he’ll go insane if he finds out you put his stallion in my humble little stable.”
He catches my elbow when I want to stomp away from him.
“Stop pointing out the differences between our ranches.”
“Why?” I challenge and jerk my arm away from his grip.
“Because I’m trying to have a decent conversation with you and all you’re doing is trying to push me away.”
I grit my teeth.
“Then take the damn hint and get lost.”
He steps closer and I hate the way my body reacts to his.
“I hear you’re looking for a ranch hand.”
My lips stay sealed, his however do the complete opposite when he states, “You can stop looking.”
I raise my eyebrow, and he raises his in challenge.
Then it clicks. “You? You’re telling me you want the job?”
A laugh bubbles from me, but the man keeps a straight face.
“You’re serious?” I squeak.
“I want the job. If it’s credentials you need, I’ll give you a list. Put me to work right fucking now and I’ll show you I’m the man you need.” His voice is fierce and he keeps his eyes locked on mine.
Seconds tick by while my mind goes over so many reasons why this is a bad idea.
Instead of voicing those, I find myself asking, “Why on earth would you want to work with me when your father has a ranch right next to mine with three or four times more horses than I have?”
“What my father needs is someone overseeing the breeding choices while he has multiple people doing the work I like to do. You need an extra pair of hands, I like you, more than just being inside you. So, it sounds like a good solution for both of us,” he says with a shrug as if it’s common knowledge.
I purse my lips and decide to skip right over the reminder of him being inside me.
“You like me? Quite the difference from when we were kids, when you only liked to pull my hair.” He smirks and I shake my finger in his direction.
“Don’t you dare mention how I like you pulling my hair now.”
The corner of his mouth twitches.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am. And if I did? I would keep it to myself.”
“Sure, you would,” I mutter and firm my voice.
“Fine. Take care of my horse, muck the stalls, and get the rest of the horses inside when you’re done. Tomorrow at six we start with mucking the outdoor arena. Part of the east fence needs to be checked and repaired if necessary. Still interested?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he dutifully replies.
“Quit calling me ma’am. Just call me Rosy and get to work.” I don’t wait for a reply but turn on my heels and walk out of the stables.
Once I’m inside I start to pace back and forth in the living room.
Grabbing my phone, I tap the screen and hit Daphne’s number.
She picks up on the fourth ring and I fire off the words, “He just shows up here and wants to work. Can you believe it? Here. Out of all places he wants to work here.”
Daphne is quiet for a few heartbeats until she deadpans, “Isn’t it normal for people wanting to work if you have a job up for grabs?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
“But not for Cedar freaking Stellan to show up, wanting the job and putting a black Arabian stallion in my stall.”
“Hmmm,” Daphne hums. “Not one but two stallions at your ranch. Lucky you.”
“Focus, Daphne. I’m serious. This cannot be happening. He’s up to something, I’m sure. He and his father. Maybe he’s here to sweeten me up, thinking he can get in my pants again, so I’ll swoon all over his dick and use it to sign away the pasture.”
“I’m pretty sure cum can’t be used as ink to sign something, Rosy,” Daphne deadpans.
We both fall silent until a bark of laughter rips from me, and Daphne laughs along with me.
Feeling completely drained, I sink into the large chair facing the window and huff out a breath.
Daphne’s voice is soft when she says, “Jason mentioned the job to Cedar when he was called to come over to their ranch.”
“I don’t need more complications,” I tiredly state.
“No, but you definitely need help, or you won’t be able to keep everything up and running, sweetie.” I know my friend is right.
My gaze is drawn to movement outside.
Cedar is dumping the contents of the wheelbarrow on the muck heap and walks right back into the stable.
He’s ditched his leather jacket and doesn’t care for shit he’s wearing his leather boots and jeans.
“Fine,” I find myself saying.
“I’ll endure his presence and see how long this will work out. But if he brings up the pasture or anything businesswise, gets on my nerve, or interferes with my shit in any way…he’s out.”
Daphne’s voice is fierce when she states, “You’re the boss, Rosy. It’s your ranch, your decision.”
“Yeah,” I drag out the word when I see Cedar push another load to the muck heap.
Damn the man works fast. The muscles of his arms flex, pulling his T-shirt tight over his biceps.
“You’re watching him, aren’t you?” Daphne chuckles.
“Shut up,” I murmur and watch Cedar’s jean clad ass just before he disappears again.
“You know, being the boss can have its perks. Accept what the man is offering, Rosy. Enjoy whatever you like. Hell, offer him the guestroom or your own bed for that matter. Life is what you make it and fuck the rules, obligations, or vendettas that keep dragging the past into the here and now. Draw a line and decide what’s important in life. For you it’s the ranch, your health, and your state-of-mind. See what I did there?” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“You always put the ranch first, yourself second. Cedar might be offering it in the same order…working the ranch and then you.”
“I’m hanging up now,” I tell her with a fake grumble while my eyes stray back to the man in question.
Fuck. He’s ditched his shirt and is mucking the damn stalls bare-chested.
“Okay, I need a picture of what the hell you’re looking at. You’re moaning way too loud.” Daphne snickers.
“Hanging up for real,” I tell her and pull the phone away to end the call.
I huff out another breath when I see Cedar wipe away the sweat from his forehead.
I grumble a curse or two and head for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
Walking out the door, I come to an abrupt stop when I see Cedar cup his hands and scoop up some water from the automatic waterer and bring it to his mouth.
It’s a weird sight. I mean, I do it myself all the time, but I never thought Cedar or anyone from the Stellan ranch would drink water without a bottle or a glass.
Something fancy since everything is fancy at that place.
“I guess you don’t need a bottle,” I state with a hint of a smile in my voice.
The grin I get in return makes my stomach flop.
“What’s good enough for the horse is just as good for us,” he states, and I couldn’t agree more.
It shows how he’s used to the work, and it’s quite the difference from his father.
Cecil Stellan has paid help for everything.
He surely won’t cup his hands to get a drink from the horse’s automatic waterer.
Hell, he wouldn’t be thirsty from working up a sweat to muck the stalls.
Which also makes me wonder.
“Why were you staying at the bed and breakfast? You could have easily stayed at your father’s ranch. Are you still staying there?”
Cedar shrugs.
“The place is big enough, but I like my own space.”
I must be insane when I find myself saying, “I have a guestroom. It’s yours if you want it.”
His smile is easy and genuine.
I can feel my body reacting to him, knowing how well he made me feel a few nights ago.
Clearing my throat, I add, “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. If you’re up before me, make sure the coffee is strong. I hate when coffee is brewed with not enough grounds in relation to the amount of water.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbles.
I let my gaze glide over his sweaty muscled torso and quickly turn away as I open the bottle of water and guzzle down half.
Shit. It doesn’t quench my thirst at all.
Not the way licking and riding Cedar’s body would do the trick.
Letting the door fall shut behind me, I close my eyes and know deep down the decision to offer this man the job and room was either brilliant or a disaster waiting to explode.