Chapter Two
Walker
Letty Alvarez is the kind of beautiful that's dangerous—all lush curves, big brown eyes, soft brown skin, and the kind of sweetness a motherfucker could get lost in. Her hair is piled on top of her head, but even from six feet away, I smell her vanilla shampoo. I see the fire in her eyes, too.
She's mad as a hornet right now.
She's also got my dick so hard I can't think straight. If the men set eyes on her, every single one of the bastards will be at each other's throats, trying to tumble her into their beds.
No. Absolutely the fuck not.
She's not landing in any bed but mine.
"Excuse me?" she hisses, drawing herself up to her full height, which, let's be honest, isn't all that impressive.
I've wrangled cows taller than she is. I've fought bulls meaner than the look in her eyes right now, too.
But her chin comes up, and her shoulders go back, pushing her tits up in her t-shirt.
I doubt she'll let me tug it off with my teeth to bury my face between them.
Jesus Christ.
Get it together, motherfucker, I mentally order myself. It doesn't help, not when she's still standing in front of me.
Tanner scratches his beard, trying—and failing—to hide a smug grin as she glares daggers at me, ready to introduce her palm to the side of my face.
I should apologize for offending her. It's what a decent man would do. But…I'm not feeling particularly decent with the indentations of my zipper all up and down my shaft. I'm not feeling particularly rational right now, either.
She can't cook for us. I'll have to bury bodies all over this ranch.
"She'll be a distraction," I mutter, cutting my eyes at Tanner instead of responding to her. "The last thing we need is some woman running around here, causing problems."
"A distraction? Some woman?" she repeats, her voice rising an octave with each question. It's damn near thunderous by the time she growls, "Causing problems?"
Hearing her repeat it, I realize just how rude I sound.
Actually, I sound worse than that. I sound like a Grade A Asshole.
But it's also true. If she's here, the men are going to give her hell.
They will hound her day and night, trying to woo her into their beds.
It'll be a fucking nightmare for her. And with Flint busy with his pregnant wife, Cole in Montana, and Abel caring for his son, we're running short of watchful eyes around here.
Tanner's shoulders shake as she makes this muted sound like a tea kettle about to blow its top. The prick isn't even trying to hide his laughter. "You'll have to forgive Walker, Letty," he says, wheezing like he's an asthmatic mid-attack. "He was actually raised in a barn."
I shoot him a death glare, which only makes the bastard laugh harder. I swear, I'm happy as hell for Cole and all that shit, but if he doesn't bring his ass back from Montana soon, I'm killing his brother.
"You know it's true," I mutter because, apparently, I don't actually know how to quit when I'm ahead. "They'll find ninety different reasons to spend all their goddamn time in the kitchen. I don't have time to babysit her because they can't leave her the fuck alone."
"I don't recall asking you to babysit me," Letty snaps, her hands on her wide hips now. "In fact, I don't recall asking you for anything but basic common decency. Apparently, when God was handing that out, you skipped the line."
"He did," Tanner agrees, still laughing like this is the best thing that's happened around here all week.
"Don't get your back up," I growl, dragging my gaze down her curvy body.
Is that a Care Bear on her shirt? Jesus Christ. "I'm just tellin' you the truth, sweetheart.
You don't look big enough to fight your way out of a wet paper bag.
How are you going to handle twenty goddamn ranch hands trying to mount you in the kitchen morning, noon, and night? "
The thought alone has my blood pressure rising. I'm not worried about the men who work here year-round—not particularly, anyway. They know better than to fuck around. But the seasonal hands? Well, they're a different breed.
Put a pretty woman in their general vicinity, and they're like stink on fuckin' pigs.
"Jesus Christ, Walker," Tanner says, doubled over now. "You need to stop talking."
"First of all," Letty says, stomping toward me.
The way her hips sway is downright hypnotic.
I want to see her walk that way while she's naked and dripping wet.
"No one will be trying to mount me in the kitchen.
This may be a ranch, but I'm not a damn horse!
Second of all, I may not look big enough to fight my way out of a wet paper bag," she snaps, pitching her voice low in a poor imitation of mine, "but I guarantee I can put a man on his back if necessary.
Want to volunteer?" She bats her lashes at me in a way that's all warning.
"Uh, no?"
"Smart choice," Tanner mutters dryly.
"You are the most infuriating, insulting man I have ever met," Letty continues, like neither of us said anything. "And I've had men trying to slap my ass since I was seventeen."
"What the fuck?" I growl, suddenly pissed. "Who has been trying to slap your ass?" I'm going to hunt down each and every one of the pricks and take a cattle prod to their asses, see how they like it.
"This is 2026, not 1906," she says. "I'm more than capable of handling myself, you overgrown caveman."
"Says you," I mutter, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Have you ever worked on a ranch before?"
"That's beside the point."
"No, that's the whole point." I take a step toward her. "I'm not tryin' to insult you. I'm tryin' to protect you."
"Whatever," she huffs like she'd rather set me on fire than listen to me. "Like I just said, I don't need your protection. I can take care of myself."
Dammit.
"There are more heifers here than women," I say, refusing to give up.
Contrary to her opinion, I'm not an overgrown caveman…
most of the time. "Most of these guys work from sunup to sundown, seven days a week.
As far as they're concerned, every woman in the vicinity is fair game because they haven't let off steam in months.
They'll sleep with anything that moves, and you're the prettiest little thing we've had around here in ages. You'll be a lamb to the slaughter."
She stares at me for a long moment before turning to Tanner. "Am I hired?"
"Of course," he says, grinning at her.
"And this place is mine?"
"Absolutely."
"You said I could have anyone I wanted here, right?"
"That's what I said," he agrees cheerfully, and if he weren't my boss, I'd strangle him.
"Good." She turns to me with a baleful smile. "Get out of my house. It's a grump-free zone."
Tanner howls with laughter.
I throw my hands up, muttering a curse. Guess I'm going to spend the next year of my life murdering the help for trying to sleep with my future wife. Fucking awesome.
"You're an idiot," Tanner says, strolling up to me once he's got Letty on her way back to town in a rusted truck old enough to qualify for antique plates. "You're lucky she didn't rip your balls off for that bullshit."
I scratch my jaw, not entirely sure he's wrong. "You could have warned me," I bitch.
"And ruin my fun?" He looks at me like I've lost it. "Why the fuck would I do that?"
"You're an asshole."
"And she thinks you belong in the early 1900s. This is going to be so fun for me." He smirks, leaning up against a fence post. "But seriously, man. What the fuck was that about?"
"Pretty sure that was destiny fucking me with a rusty pole," I mutter, ripping my hat off to scratch my head. "It's hard to think when you're staring at your future."
"Jesus Christ." He doubles over, howling with laughter. Again.
"This is your fault." I glare at him. "Now, I have to go put the fear of God into every man on this ranch. If they don't leave her alone, I may do something drastic."
"You don't think that was drastic?" He wipes his eyes, wheezing again. And goddamn, I miss Cole. At least he was sane. I'm not so sure about Tanner.
"That was…I don't know what the fuck that was," I mutter. "That was a train wreck."
"Yeah." He slaps me on the back. "You owe her an apology."
"I know."
"You may also want to cook for yourself for the next six months. She may damn well poison you."
"Considered that possibility," I mutter. "I'll take my chances."
"It's your funeral." He chuckles again, shaking his head before he sobers. "In all seriousness, Walker, she needs this job. I promised Jorge to look out for her once Tapias closed. She's too proud to admit it, but I know she's desperate for work. Without it, she'll be on the streets."
My heart clenches at the thought of her out there on her own with nowhere to go. Hell no.
"I'll keep an eye out for her." I have no idea where I'll find the time to do it. It's calving season. We're already up to our ears in shit to do every day, but that doesn't matter. Hell will freeze over before I let anyone harass her out here.
"Don't piss her off."
"I'll try."
He shoots me a hard look. "Do more than try. She's a damn good cook. We need her around here as much as she needs the job here. Put the fear of God into the men. If anyone doesn't get the message, do what you've got to do to drive the point home."
I shove my hat back down on my head. "Just remember you said that when you're helping me dig graves, motherfucker."
He chuckles, smirking at me. "This is going to be so much fun for me."
I flip him the bird and then stride toward the west field to fill everyone in on the new rules.
Rule One? Don't even fucking think about looking at her, or that's your ass.