Chapter 20 #2
I secretly love how handy he is. It’s ungodly attractive when a man can build things with his bare hands. Who am I kidding? It’s hot as fuck and makes me appreciate his hard work even more, seeing it all for myself.
To the side of the barn is what looks like an outdoor shed. The garage door to it is open, revealing a wall lined with hundreds of tools and power equipment. I spot a tractor beside it, and if I had to guess, even more farming machinery is close by.
To my left is a massive wooden playground, a fire pit, and a commercial-sized stable with “CR” made of wrought iron at the center. I recognize the same design from the iron gates entering the property.
Coleson Ranch.
A part of me wants to explore the stables, in search of horses to pet and love on. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had an obsession with horses. I remember begging my mom to buy me one and couldn’t understand why she would laugh and dismiss my request.
Beyond the stable is what appears to be miles and miles of cattle farms. Cattle galore graze the fields, looking so enchanting. It’s beautiful out here. Maintained and manicured to perfection, much like I’ve gathered Stetson to be.
He’s a perfectionist and overly persistent. Everything makes sense.
“That’s my cup. And my pup.”
A hoarse voice startles me, and I lift my head to meet Stetson’s weighted glare. It’s unusual to experience this side of him. The side that makes me feel like an unwanted visitor, rather than someone he searches out.
“And for right now, it’s mine. Both of them.” I smile softly, internally telling myself he’s just hurt. And goddamn it, it’s just a cup.
“But they’re mine.” He steps closer to me, and I watch him closely, although scolding me over a cup and apparently his cute pup, he’s sleepy with the slightest amount of bedhead.
Indentations line one side of his face from the pillow, reminding me of our time in Chicago and that he’s a perpetual side sleeper.
But the thing I’m physically unable to look away from is his chest. Age has nothing on Stetson Cole.
His deep tan skin is covered in chest hair with an eight-pack of deliciously carved abs staring at me front and center.
They lead to the sexiest ‘V’ cut—the same one you see often on men in magazines.
But somehow, Stetson makes it look even hotter.
He takes pride in himself, and it shows.
“It’s a good thing you’ve got about fifty others in there then,” I retort, pointing toward the kitchen inside. “As for the dog, I can’t help it if he loves me.”
Stetson perches himself against the white side paneling of the porch, putting him less than a foot away. “Mustard. Come here,” he points to his feet, but Mustard ignores him.
He can be angry at me all he wants, but his dog thinks I’m pretty fucking spectacular. I’m a firm believer that dogs know the hearts of people. Sooner or later, Stetson will see that, too.
“Seriously? After all the shit I do for you,” he implores, shaking his head at the rejection of Mustard’s betrayal.
He must not be too concerned because he wastes no time steering his annoyance back on me.
“I want that one.” He points to the coffee cup currently steaming around my lips. “It’s the only one I use. It’s mine.”
“Are we seriously arguing over a coffee cup right now?” It’s too early for this.
It’s one thing to be mad at me for ignoring his calls and texts or for stealing the attention of his dog, but another thing entirely to be bitter over a goddamn cup.
If he seriously wants to fight, give me an hour for the caffeine to hit, and I’ll be ready to come back swinging.
“Get used to it. I’m protective of my things,” he grumbles, closing the distance between us. “Scooch over.”
“What? Why?” The words barely leave my lips before strong arms lift me with no effort and settle me farther to the left. Forcing himself into my space, Stetson takes the vacant seat beside me on the swing and makes himself comfortable.
“Please. Go ahead,” I joke. “It is your home, after all.” I shake my head in disbelief, leaving me no time to react when he grabs the cup of coffee in my hands and brings it to his lips.
My mouth drops open in shock. “Hey! That’s—”
“Yours. I know. You said that. It tastes like you.”
Wha—
“It tastes like coffee.” I attempt to snatch it back, but it’s no use. Stetson’s calloused hands cover the ceramic entirely. “And besides, it barely fits in your hands. You should really consider another cup.”
“And you should consider less creamer.” He winces before throwing back the remaining liquid.
“Thought you said it tastes like me? Not that you’d remember, anyway.”
A devious smirk crests his face before he shifts in my direction, blue eyes fracturing every ounce of composure I have left. Thankfully, I have a blanket covering my bare legs because if not, he’d for sure see my thighs clenching for dear life just at the near proximity of him.
Sending an electrical current through my body, Stetson brings his face to the side of my neck, and I freeze, everything happening in slow motion.
I frantically search the ranch for prying eyes, but don’t dare move away.
It’s when he drags his nose from the back of my ear, coasting it down the most sensitive part of my neck, that I nearly combust.
My most sensitive spot, and he knows it.
Shivers wrack through me, my eyes falling closed on instinct.
“I remember exactly what you taste like. Your lips. Your skin. Your pussy. You’re impossible to forget, my love.
It’s a shame I have to.” Before I can react, he jerks away and stands.
It takes me a second to realize the now-empty cup sits in my lap.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Stetson proclaims, stretching his arms over his head. He knows what he’s doing, and I loathe him for it. Not really, but I want to. I also want to crawl into his sleep shorts and stay there forever.
But that would just be torture.
He’s halfway to the front door before I finally regain some self-control and yell, “Tomorrow, I’m drinking straight creamer. You’ll stand no chance of stealing it from me then, Stetson Cole.”
A hearty chuckle is all I hear as he leaves me to it. An empty cup with a singular chip on the edge, and an empty porch, aside from his very snuggly pup.
The perfect escape for my overflowing thoughts.