Chapter 6
6
CLEMENTINE
T here's no roosters up here at the camp, but that doesn't keep me from waking up before the sun has even managed to poke a ray over the mountains.
Untangling myself from Gunner's heavy body, I try not to let myself get distracted. Not by the man's perfect ass, or the trail of hair that runs down his chest, straight to the base of that thick cock that's jutting up hard and proud as he sleeps.
Damn. The things he can do with that monster.
We rolled across the floor most of the night. Till we were both tangled up in the blankets and too damn tired to do anything about it.
I'm surprised I'm awake.
God only knows where my clothes are, so I grab one of the blankets off the pile and wrap it around myself.
I'll have to wait till sun-up to make sense of things in the little shack. I don't want to risk waking Gunner up with a flashlight or a lantern.
He'd want to start all over.
And God help me...I'd let him.
Shaking my head like it'll help clear last night out of my thoughts, I slip on my boots and make my way out to the outhouse.
The pungent smell of skunk is still strong out here, but at least it's cleared up enough that my eyes aren't watering anymore.
When I return from doing my business, the morning sun is just beginning to emerge above the tall peaks to the east. Shadows are starting to retreat, and the chill in the air is turning from biting to pleasantly crisp.
Gunner's still sleeping, so I take the moment to enjoy the dawn. Still wrapped in the blanket with my body feeling well-used and properly sore from last night, the implications of what I've done start to come into clarity along with the features of the landscape in the gaining light.
Sleeping with Gunner was stupid thing to do.
He's not just another worker around the ranch, not a seasonal hand that'll be on his way in a couple of months. He's my boss.
Maybe not the brother that hired me, but just as powerful. Just as much in control of my employment with the Delta O as Ranger or any of the younger brothers.
And I'm not just a seasonal hand on the Delta O, either. I landed a solid position here. I've got a team here that answers to me and those men and women respect me.
By the time I hear Gunner up and about inside the small cabin, I know last night has to be nothing but a fond memory that'll keep me warm on lonely nights in the future.
When the door pushes open, I slip around the far side of the building to avoid having to face him just yet. Then I rush inside, grab my things, and get dressed.
By the time Gunner's out of the outhouse and looking ready to get a start on our day, I've already got the horses saddled and the supplies ready.
"Is sleeping in something you do often, O'Leary?"
I toss one of the foil-wrapped breakfast burritos I heated over the fire at him. We're getting another day off to a late start, and I'm not about to sit tight while the man chokes down a packet of quick cook oatmeal and tries to tell me it's breakfast.
"Sorry. Rough night."
Damn that smile.
After he unwraps the foil and sees what's inside, he looks up at me with that wide grin. The one that deepens those lines by his eyes and erases the furrow between his brows. The one that makes it too damn easy to forget why it's such a stupid idea to fuck the boss.
"Where I come from, rough nights make piss poor excuses for loose cattle. Grab your shit and let's go. I don't want to be out here another night."
If he thought he was about to lean in for a kiss, the man is out of his damn mind. I make a quick escape, stepping up in the stirrup and swinging my leg over the saddle before he closes the distance between us.
Gunner stops short and takes up the reins of his horse.
The furrow between his brows is back. The one that steals the boyishness from his features and gives him a grizzled look that's grown on me since my first impression.
Grumpy shouldn't look that sexy on a man.
He glares up at me without saying a word at first. He gives me a smug little smirk when he sees me adjust myself on the hard leather saddle-- like he knows it's because I'm sore from last night, and he's proud to be the reason for it.
Gunner
Something's up with her this morning, for sure. Clem's actin' skittish on me, avoiding letting me get too close to her.
Whatever's up, I'll give her some time to work through it, but if she thinks I'm going to be some one night stand she can carve into her saddle horn, she's sadly mistaken.
Clem's mine and I'm not about to let her get it in her head otherwise.
"Burrito's damn good," I say to her back as I mount my horse and head out after her. "Better than instant oatmeal any day."
Ahead of me, Clem laughs. It's a short, loud laugh with a hint of snort to it, not trying to be demure or ladylike. Her laugh reminds me of how she sounded when I was making her come for me last night.
All in.
The way I am on this idea of us together that's managed to get in my head.
It's a short ride out to the fence line. Sure enough, there are a couple of sections where the barbed wire is off the posts. A couple places where it's broken through, a post that needs to be replaced, and a long section of wire that's been pulled off multiple posts that's just lying on the ground.
"You got spare turn-buckles in that bag of yours?" Clem asks, nodding toward the bag of repair supplies I brought up that's strapped behind my saddle.
Things aren't exactly quiet between us as we get to work, but conversation doesn't flow as easy as you'd expect it to between a couple of people who spent the night as close as we did.
I toss her a smaller bag with the pieces she needs.
Clem catches it in one gloved hand and gets to work tightening the wire where she's used the buckle to splice the ends together.
"You need help with that, O'Leary?"
When I look up from where I'm doing my best to dig the broken base of the rotted old wooden post out of the dirt, she's standing a hell of a lot closer than she's dared get to me all morning.
"I wouldn't be opposed," I retort to the dirt-smudged face grinning down at me. "Damn thing's been in the earth since my grand-daddy's days."
With Clem's help, I manage to get the old post dug out and a new one secure before we work together to get the wire re-strung.
When we're done, I stand back, pulling my hat off and wiping the sweat off my forehead while Clem downs her water.
It gets to the point where I can't stand it anymore.
"You just gonna pretend last night didn't happen?"
My patience has thinned. I'm not going to put up with this cold shoulder bullshit from her; not when I know how hot she really runs.
I want to reach out for her, pull her to me, and kiss her whenever I feel like it. Like now. When she's covered in dirt, with sweat dripping down her face from under her hat, and she's got me feeling like I won the damn lottery with finding a woman who's proving as capable in the field as she is in the bedroom.
"Yes! Yes, I am!" With a flick of her wrist, she flings the claw hammer to the ground so it digs in, handle standing out.
"Look, you're a damn fine piece of ass, Gunner O'Leary, but this is the best job I've been offered. I plan on keeping it, and I don't need it getting around that the only reason I have it is because I'm sleeping with the boss."
"Well...what if you were married to the boss?"
I've been kicking the idea around all morning, but now that I've said it out loud, it sounds even better to me.
Clem looks at me like I'm speaking some foreign language.
"You know, I always thought 'fucking your brains out' was a figure of speech. I didn't realize it was that could actually happen to a man."
She spits the words my way with her usual dose of salt, but I don't miss the flicker across her eyes.
Clementine feels the same thing I do. We're not just good in bed, we're good together . And she knows it.
"If you have that section secure now, I'm gonna go drive the strays back over the property line so we can patch that last section and get back before supper."
Just like that, like there's not more business between us to settle, she turns on the heel of her boot and marches off. Right through the last section of downed fence, onto Ralston land, calling the dogs along with her with a sharp whistle while her wheat-colored braid bounces between her shoulders as she goes.
Stubborn ass woman. Has me hard as rock, wanting to chase after her and show her what's what. And I've got every intention of doing just that later tonight when I've got her in my bed back home. Where I plan to keep her until she comes around to my way of thinking.
.