Chapter 4
Chapter four
Cole
It had been two days since I’d had Grace in my truck and in my arms. Every time I climbed behind the wheel, I could smell her perfume in my truck. Gone was the stench of dirty old socks and cow shit, replaced with something sweet and intoxicating.
But it wasn’t just my truck that had me thinking of the curvy blonde.
It was everywhere. It was while I was cooking dinner or doing the dishes.
It was while I was hauling hay or scrubbing the troughs, but mostly it was late at night when I was too tired to fight it.
The moments I was lying alone in my bed I thought about her.
Earlier this afternoon I’d caught myself looking for an excuse to go to town. Normally, I had to force myself to go, and even then, it was only when absolutely necessary, but the last two days I’d been drawn back to Wattle Creek or more accurately Sweet Dreams B&B.
Grace had my mind spinning. It’d been a long while, too long, since I’d had a woman warming my bed.
But Grace was more than that, she was someone who was occupying my mind.
She intrigued me. She frustrated me. Little Miss Independent didn’t know how to say thank you when someone helped her.
I tried not to take it personally, and after I got over myself, I decided it was because she’d never been treated like she should.
The city wasn’t a place nice girls like Grace should be.
Not alone. And it wasn’t because I was some sexist asshole that didn’t think women should work.
If Grace wanted to work, then more power to her.
I just didn’t think that nice girls like Grace should have to put up with entitled assholes in fancy suits who let injured women call Ubers. That still pissed me off.
It was almost dark, and I trudged up to the house and fed my dog, Rocket.
He was a good dog and the best friend a lonely guy could ask for.
It wasn’t until he was snorting and snuffling that I wondered if he was enough.
I’d thought he was. Rocket, me, the ranch.
We worked hard, stayed out of trouble, and lived a simple life.
Twenty minutes with a woman who smelt like peaches and had the softest skin I’d ever felt, and I was second-guessing everything.
After a quick shower, I threw together a sandwich, popped the cap on a beer, and went to sit on the porch. Summer was fading, and soon enough, it would be long forgotten, but on nights like tonight, I wanted to enjoy the fresh air and the peace and quiet.
I’d just finished my beer and set the bottle on the floor beside me when headlights bumped down my drive.
No one came out here.
Not ever.
And certainly not this late at night.
I stood up and set my plate down before stomping to the steps.
The bright blue car crawled to a halt, and I lifted my hand to block the bright lights from blinding me. I couldn’t see who it was behind the wheel, but I certainly didn’t recognize the car. Almost everyone I knew drove a truck as big as mine and they were never clean.
The engine was turned off and the door swung open.
The moment I saw the long, wheat-colored curls, my stomach clenched.
“Hi.” Grace waved nervously, still standing at the car door.
“Hi,” I replied, surprised she was here.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you …” she started mumbling, looking everywhere but at me.
I wish I could read her thoughts. The way she looked up at the house, I wish it was in better shape.
While it was still standing and strong, she’d seen better days.
The paint was peeling. One of the shutters didn’t open.
The porch railing was missing a section where it had rotted away, and the gardens were filled with more weeds than actual plants.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, thankful I’d had time to shower.
After spending the afternoon fixing the pump on the trough and dealing with a stubborn bull who didn’t want to stay where he was supposed to, I’d been covered from head to toe in mud, slime, and shit.
It hadn’t been pretty and smelt worse, but it was a reality in my day.
“Not at all,” I managed to choke out. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’m fine thanks,” Grace replied as she closed the door and stepped toward me.
She was fucking beautiful.
When I’d found her the other day in her running gear with blood on her leg and misery written all over her face, I’d thought she was stunning. But now. I had no words.
Grace was all soft curves and sweetness.
She was a wet dream wrapped in a pair of cutoffs.
Her denim shorts were short and showed off those creamy thighs I’d been imagining wrapped around my waist. The tight white tank was molded to her curves making her tits look even better than I’d remembered.
But the worn, dusty cowboy boots had me thinking things I definitely shouldn’t.
“I can go,” Grace offered, and I knew I’d missed something.
“No!” I countered quickly, bounding down the steps, ignoring the pebbles digging into my bare feet.
“Are you sure?” Grace asked as I stopped right in front of her.
She was a vision yet so much more than that. Seeing her like this, seeing the way her perfect pink lips glistened had me adding the image to my spank bank.
“Stay,” I demanded, reaching for her hand.
The other evening when I’d carried her across the lawn, I didn’t want to let her go. With her tits pillowed against my chest and the way she snuggled against me, I knew instantly I wanted to keep her. Having her show up here looking the way she did had me scrambling.
“I’ve got something for you,” Grace offered with a wide smile that made that spot on my chest ache.
“You didn’t have to …”
“I know. But you helped me, and I wanted to say thank you.”
Grace moved around me and opened the passenger door before leaning in. The further she leaned forward, the tighter her shorts pulled across her peach-shaped ass. I bit my fist to stop myself from doing something stupid. Shame it didn’t stop the dumb ass words from flying from my mouth.
“I’m not taking your money, Grace,” I reminded her.
At my comment, Grace straightened her spine, put her hands on her hips, and rolled her eyes. My palm itched to spank her sexy ass for that eye roll, but she wasn’t mine. Not yet anyway.
“You made that very clear the other day, Cole.”
“Good. As long as that’s cleared up.”
“Yep,” she replied before spinning around and leaning into her car.
For some reason, I felt the need to keep talking. “You know I’m not like those guys you date in the city? I don't need you to thank me. You did that the other night.”
Grace stood up and shut the door, a navy blue box in her hand. One I recognized instantly. “What guys do I date?” Grace questioned, and I felt like I’d been caught out.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does, Cole. If you’ve got something to say, then come on. Out with it. I want to know who you think I am.”
Her words felt like a dare, but it wasn’t one I was about to back down from.
“You know, city boys.”
“Well, what other sort of ‘boys’ are there in the city?” Grace asked, looking smug. She enjoyed watching me squirm, and I had no one to blame but myself. I’d put my foot in it, and now I had to try to dig my way out of it hopefully with my balls still intact.
“You know. Rich, suit-wearing boys.”
“Oh, you mean men with jobs?” Grace countered, and the corner of my mouth curled up. I don’t know what was more attractive. Grace’s smart-ass attitude, her mouth-watering curves, or her scent that was potent enough to drive a man to distraction.
“Men who don’t know how to treat a lady,” I countered, keeping my voice strong.
“And you do, do you?”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’ve got no idea,” I replied cockily with images of Grace dancing around my kitchen barefoot and wearing nothing but my shirt and a smile. Tangled in my sheets and her belly swollen with our child scattering my brain.
Grace cocked her hip to the side and held out the box with one hand. “Good thing I’m just here to drop this off and say thanks again for your help.”