Chapter 8
BOSS
I’m still filled with the rush from that incredible shower last night as the scent of fresh coffee slowly brings my brain online.
I had no idea that I had fallen into such a dull routine until Etta burst into my life to shake me out of it. Simply cooking breakfast for her is now an energizing task. Making coffee for her. Considering which chores today will help her get to know Rusty Hill a bit better.
As we’re tidying up after breakfast, I ask, "Would you like to go into town? I should stop by the bank to check on some things. If there's anything you need, most of the stores are a three-minute walk away from it."
Etta smiles. "Actually, I've just finished the book I was reading. Maybe I could pick up something new." Her smile drops. "But is the road fixed?"
"Kind of." I flash her a grin. "It's still too blocked to get the truck through until late this afternoon. But we can take something else."
Forty-five minutes later, I'm already addicted to the feeling of Etta’s hands gripping me around the waist. I love the way she clings to me tightly.
Love the way she squeals every time I hit a slight bump with the four-wheeler.
It's got huge off-road tires, and I'm driving very carefully, but she's not used to this sort of thing. I get it.
We can't really talk with our helmets on, but I reach down to squeeze her outer thigh now and then.
We roll into town and I park right in front of the bookstore. I help her off the ATV and she laughs as she pulls off her helmet and runs her fingers through her hair. "Am I a mess?"
Setting both helmets on the seat, I wrap Etta in my arms, kissing her much more deeply than is appropriate for the main street of town. She hums out a soft moan, gripping the back of my shoulders. "Was that because we couldn't kiss on the ride here?"
"Yes. Also, to let every man in town know you’re mine."
She stares at me for a moment, then frowns. "It's too fast to be saying things like that, don't you think?" she murmurs.
"Hey, when you know, you know. And I know." I grin, kissing the side of her cheek, then down her neck. "And as soon as you know, you'll let me know…you know?"
She bursts out laughing, then looks around. "Should we lock up the helmets?"
"Nah. Everyone knows whose vehicle this is."
"Wow." She pulls off her small backpack to check the time on her phone. "A safe town. That's amazing."
I slip five twenties from my wallet and tuck them into the back pocket of her jeans, using it as an excuse to squeeze her ass until she giggles.
"Spending money. If there's anything you need for the next few days, grab it now.
" I point to the building across the street.
“I'll be right there in the bank, okay?"
“Wow. Thank you." She looks around and grins. "I don't think I'm going to get lost here."
“I like your hair all messed up.” I finger comb it a little more, then cup the back of her head and bring her lips to mine.
“Especially when you’re sleeping in my bed.
” Kissing her gently, my heart swells even bigger when she grips the front of my shirt.
“You were stunning when I woke up this morning. Been thinking about that all day.”
“Stop it. You’re making a scene,” she whispers.
“So?”
Her fingers tighten in my shirt as she gives me a shake. “Let’s be respectable, mister. You said people know you around here.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I kiss her forehead, grinning. “I’ll find you when I’m done, baby.”
I love the way her eyes light up when I call her baby. Or beautiful. Or mine.
I watch her walk into the bookstore, then go into the bank, waving to Shane across the lobby. As usual he's not wearing a tie, and his jacket is flung across the back of his chair.
He greets me warmly. “Thanks again for taking care of the Jensen mortgage. I checked with Darla down the hall and it turns out the poor family still owe payments on that loan they had to take out a couple of years ago to pay for a new tractor, too.”
"Should I pay that off as well?"
He shrugs. "You could. They also owe two years’ worth of back taxes." He slides a paper toward me and points to some numbers.
“Fine. Put it on my tab." I chuckle. "If any other expenses crop up, pay them as well. The Jensens have had a rough time for the past few years, but they're good hard-working people and don't deserve to lose their farm."
"I couldn’t agree more. And thank you." He shoves the papers aside, his expression souring. "You should know, those Decker real estate people are getting nasty. They've been calling around town, trying to dig up dirt on your ranch."
"Should I care?"
Shane shrugs. "Many of us know that things are kind of done…" He chuckles. "Your own way? Is that fair to say?"
"Sure, but—"
"You know how people talk, Boss. I've heard all kinds of crazy theories. That you're growing marijuana out there. Or poppies for opium."
I chuckle, scratching the back of my head. "I know the land is great for rhubarb and strawberries. I’m not sure about the rest."
He shakes his head again. “I've heard people in the café whispering that you're a bunch of horse thieves. Paying people under the table to keep your records clear. Even how you’re hiding women up there. All kinds of bullshit."
I sigh, drumming my fingers on his desk. "Is it just dumb gossip, or should I be genuinely concerned that people are going to drive out to the ranch with pitchforks?"
"People around here know to leave you alone. But these real estate guys… I just don't know. They're getting pretty aggressive. They're hell-bent on buying that land. Something about the perfect view for this project that’s going to earn them a fortune or some damn thing."
"Thanks for the intel, Shane. I appreciate it." I stand, shake his hand, then nod. "Call me if you hear anything, okay?"
"Will do. Good luck." He grins. "And thanks again for helping out the Jensens."
I nod. "Just doing our bit."
Etta is coming out of the drugstore just as I leave the bank. I jog across the street and relieve her of her shopping bags, pretending to struggle as I heft the one from the bookstore. "Did you buy them out?"
She laughs. "Just two books! And some notepads so I can start making sense of your accounts."
"You can't just use the backs of envelopes? That’s what I do."
She rolls her eyes. "Tidy lists represent a tidy mind, and an organized bill paying system."
I shrug, then take her to the Silver Gate Café for a late lunch.
How do I tell this lovely girl that her family is money-grubbing scum who prioritize their new development over everything else?
Gently, I guess. When the time is right.