Chapter 9 #2
Roger was afraid Marshall would use her, as he had done to so many women in his previous life.
If only his brother knew that he needn’t worry.
The mere fact that Colette was staying here for such a short period of time made him wary of pursuing this attraction.
He didn’t want quick, meaningless relationships that left him feeling so empty and used.
His brother may have warned him off to protect her as Simone’s friend, but he had his own reasons to keep distance between them.
Reasons that protected him from disappointment or from repeating past patterns.
He’d rather date a nice woman in town than pick someone who was destined to leave.
Roger’s warning rang in his ears as his eyes drifted to the soft dark curls resting on her shoulders. The scent of her shampoo was subtle. Natural. He was certain touching her hair would be like touching pure silk. And if he gripped it…
His fists clenched.
Marshall shook his head, turning his gaze to the horizon.
What was wrong with him?
“Well, we’d better go. I’ve got to get back to work,” Marshall said, standing and wiping the imaginary dirt off the back of his jeans to keep his hands busy. To keep them from reaching out inappropriately. She was under his protection. His co-worker hired by his grandfather. Off limits.
“Thanks for this, Marshall. If I had run away scared, I would have missed out on such an incredible view,” Colette picked up the blanket and shook it out, folding it and smoothing it over her arm. Marshall took it from her, brushing his hand on hers for a mere moment.
Colette gave a small, quick intake of breath.
If one wasn’t analyzing her every movement, it could easily be missed.
Marshall saw it.
The same spark went through him when they touched.
His heart stuttered in his chest and their eyes locked.
“How am I going to get back up?” Colette asked, her gaze sliding to Vinny, happily munching on grass nearby. Marshall cleared his throat.
“I’ll lift you,” he said as he rolled the blanket, keeping his eyes fixated on the horse. He tied up the quilt behind the saddle as Colette came to join him. “You’re going to step on my hands, and I’ll give you a boost.”
“Okay.” Colette gave a small smile and watched as Marshall interlaced his fingers and lowered them, waiting for her small boot. She stepped into his hands, bracing herself on his shoulders.
He should have anticipated how close this action would get him to her chest. She pushed up on his shoulders, and Marshall realized he was in a compromising position. Pure torture. He was inches away from burying his face in the soft pink wool and enticing bosom.
Turning his head to the side to avoid temptation, Marshall hazarded a deep inhale of her sweet, floral scent.
It was a small indulgence until he could figure out a way to put more distance between himself and this attraction.
She awakened a beast in him that had long been dormant.
A hunger for something he had told himself wasn’t possible.
This familiar, unbridled lust reminded him of his past. And not in a good way. It made him feel out of control, as he was back then. There was nothing to ground him or keep him from going rogue once he got a taste of something he wanted.
He closed his eyes to push down the sensation. It was the only way.
After a wobbly boost and some groping hands helping her straighten out, Colette was safe in the saddle, her hands on the horn.
Marshall slid his foot in the stirrup and settled himself behind her.
Grateful for his well-behaved horse, he reached his hands around her to grasp the reins, trying to avoid any inappropriate touches.
It was impossible.
Did he rest his hands on her thighs, where they would naturally land? No.
Did he curl his arms around hers? Absolutely not.
“It’s okay, Marshall, just relax your arms,” Colette said with a small laugh.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, letting his arms rest naturally by her sides.
“I’m comfortable. This is so cool,” she muttered, leaning into him as she turned to catch every bit of scenery they were passing.
The naked trees in dark silhouettes against the sunrise, haunting, yet filled with promise of new life coming in a few weeks.
His chest caved in, winded as she pressed into him.
She was completely unaware of how she affected him.
A good supervisor shouldn’t be this physically overwhelmed by the proximity of a staff member.
But Colette fit perfectly between his legs.
Her trust was a gift.
Her body was a fantasy.
Marshall thanked the sky as they approached the stables. His torture test would finally be over. The constant bounce of her tempting curves into his groin was pushing his ability to remain unaffected. He closed his eyes, thinking of unattractive things.
Roger sticking his head into his tent during his grad party and puking.
The smell of branding season. Ugh.
“It must be hard.” Colette turned her head, glancing at him from the side.
Marshall choked and coughed.
“Um, what?” Could she feel it? He held his breath, mortified.
“It must be hard to do your job. Day in, day out, no breaks. I admire you,” she said, her mouth curving into a smile. “I hope I’m good enough to figure out what’s going on. I can see how much you have to lose.” She turned to look forward.
Marshall frowned. “My grandfather would only hire the best, so that must mean you’re the best,” he spoke gruffly. “I have complete faith in you.” There was no tenderness in his words, only complete confidence.
“I might have gotten the job because Simone put in a good word,” she admitted, looking back at him, blue eyes hooded. “I did get laid off, after all. That didn’t make me feel like the best. It made me feel very dispensable.”
Marshall snorted. “Grandpa King has always made good investments. He wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you were the top candidate. Only the best for Rosebud Ranch.”
His gaze slid down her face, watching as a delicate bloom pinkened her cheeks.
There. She heard him. Good.
“Alright, Vinny would like to thank you for giving him his exercise this morning.” Marshall leaped off the horse, then held his hand out to help Colette onto the step.
“Thank you, Vinny. And Marshall.” Her mouth curved into the brightest smile.
Parting with a nod, he distracted himself with leading Vinny to a bucket where they had a couple carrots waiting for him.
Colette giggled as he taught her how to feed the horse a treat, holding her hand flat.
She patted Vinny’s nose as though they were old friends.
What he wouldn’t give to have her pat him like that.
Marshall was getting jealous of the attention and sweet smiles she was giving his horse.
It was time to put an end to this tender time.
“I’ll finish up here. Let me know if you need anything else. My office will be empty if you want to work there.” Marshall nodded in the direction of the ranch offices. Colette blinked, seeming unsure.
“Of course,” she said, her mouth curving to one side. “Thanks for the ride, Marshall.”
His stomach dropped to his boots, and his mouth gaped open slightly as their gazes locked. Her eyes were so bright. It was as though they could see through him completely.
He coughed.
“My pleasure, Colette,” he said, the words thick in his throat. She turned on her booted foot and grabbed her jacket off the fence post before heading for the office.
Marshall focused on the steady presence of Vinny, warm and heavily snuffing next to him, as he watched her walk away. Vinny nudged his shoulder, as though encouraging him to follow her.
“No, Vinny. She’s off limits,” he spoke softly, hoping the horse would understand.
Vinny bowed his head, his coat sweaty. Marshall tucked his head in Vinny’s neck, stroking the smooth coat.
Turning the beast around, they walked in the direction of the large stable doors.
If it were up to Vinny, they would have spent hours in Colette’s presence, immersed in her scent, her soft cooing, and her gentle touches.
Vinny was an animal, and he didn’t understand boundaries.
Marshall understood boundaries.
There would be no more tempting horseback rides.
He would stay away from Colette Slip. Keep things extremely professional. Her work would keep her busy, and his duties would fill his days on repeat.
Should be easy enough.
Surely, he had more self-control than Vinny.
Right?