by Brill Harper
Lord knows my size is imposing, though.
We join the ladies on the porch. Ruby is like a little nervous rabbit, and I feel like a giant wolf taking the chair next to her at the tiny table. Ready to eat her whole maybe. My heart ratchets up. What is wrong with me? Sure, I’ve been too busy for dating for a bit, but my reaction to this young woman is off the charts for me.
We all drink our tea in awkward silence. Shit. I bet the city boys she is used to could fill the silence much better. But what can I say? Would you care to tour our spa facilities? The ones we don’t have?
“So, Ms. Grant,” Uncle Chuck begins.
“Please call me Ruby,” she answers. “All of you.” She sends a sly sideways glance in my direction, and her cheeks pinken.
Fuck me, but I love that look on her. Sweet and shy, yet I know underneath she’s got sass. I’m damn near punched in the gut with desire for this woman and we’ve hardly spoken.
Uncle Chuck begins again, “Ruby, it seems the contest you entered began prematurely. As you can see, Pair-a-Dice isn’t quite ready for all the things they plan to offer.”
She sends my uncle a bland look. “Also, it wasn’t proofread very well. Pair-a-Dice...Paradise.”
I cough.
“Dusty can give you a tour of things. There’s river rafting, horseback riding, and miles of trails for hiking.”
Ruby does not look convinced that this is her ideal vacation. I don’t blame her. But something in me is almost desperate to find a way to make her stay. Which means I should let this lie. We’d both be better off if she went on home and pretended none of this happened. I’m in no position to court her—I have to get this ranch on its feet. And she doesn’t seem the quick tumble type.
But hell.
“What have you got to lose, Ruby? If you don’t want to stay, Chuck here will drive you back to the airport.”
She gets this pensive look on her face, and I add one more emotion to my catalog of her expressions. I don’t know what kind of pretty little witch she is, but I have never felt like this before.
Ruby takes a long sip of tea. “All right. Show me around.”
My jeans tighten as my dick searches for hidden meaning in her words. I’d love to show her lots of things. I’m more interested in what she might show me, though.
If things were different, of course.
Pair-a-Dice has seen better days, I suppose. But no one can argue that God didn’t pay special attention to my land. I take Ruby to the places that I haven’t had to do much to first. The woods behind the house leading to the river never fail to ease my stress. I don’t suppose it’s the same for her, but I don’t know what a girl who likes Los Angeles might like. A sandy beach? A concrete pool? I truly don’t know. But she only hesitates for a second about entering the woods with me, and I feel like an idiot for not realizing that she might not feel safe.
Little Ruby Riding Hood and the Big, Bad Wolf
“I know you don’t know me, Ruby. And I know I look more like a mountain than a man, but I promise you’re safe with me. I would never let anyone or anything bad happen to you. Myself included.”
She huffs out a laugh. “If you knew the kinds of men who say that exact same things to girls in LA, you would realize how not reassuring that is.”
I stop walking. I’m angry that maybe someone hurt her. I’m upset that she doesn’t trust me. I’m embarrassed that I’m acting like such a fool. All these things hit me at once. “I’m sorry. Why don’t we just go back to the house? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
I turn on the trail, but she stops me, her tiny hand on my arm. “No, it’s okay. Please. I want to see the river. I trust you.”
My heart damn near breaks out of my ribcage. She trusts me. I can’t explain why that means so much to me.
Whoa there, Hoss.
Shit. This woman is trouble.
I learned my lesson about city girls the hard way, and I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.
I can enjoy her company. But that’s it. I don’t need to let her mess with my emotions.
“So, tell me what is really going on with this ranch,” she says after we walk a bit. “Some things aren’t really adding up for me.”
My fool heart is telling me to make something up. Keep her here any way I can. But that wouldn’t be right. And she trusts me. I’m a man of honor, no matter how hard the zipper of my pants is pressing into my growing cock. “My aunt and uncle mean well.”
“Mr. Nichols is your uncle, then?”
I nod. She’s got city smarts, no sense lying to her. I get the feeling she’s been lied to enough. “They’re trying to help me rebuild the ranch. They heard me talking about the bad reviews and got it in their heads to bring me a guest, I suppose.”
“Why do you need reviews?”
“I haven’t owned Pair-a-Dice long. I got it for a song—but that was before I realized the damn record was broken. There’s a lot of good here, but the previous owners let it fall into disrepair. They were also not so good at hospitality. I’m trying to fix everything and learn what I need to know about managing a resort, but we aren’t ready for guests. Not the resort kind. I’ve got the cabins set up still for campers, but my vision of Pair-a-Dice is a long ways off.”
She bites her lip. “I see...the pool?”
“There is no pool.”
“The full-service spa?”
“Yeah, none of that either. Yet. It’s actually not a bad idea.”
Her resigned expression is one I never want to see again. Like she’s used to disappointment. “Massages are out then.”
What the hell. “I will personally give you a massage every day. There’s a table at the house.” Somewhere.
“Right.” She pulls in her shoulders, trying to make herself smaller.
Idiot bastard. Now you’ve gone and got her hackles up.
“Not like that,” I blurt out. “I’m actually a licensed massage therapist. It’s all on the up-and-up.”
“You’re a licensed massage therapist cowboy?”
Ouch. Her incredulous expression isn’t doing much for my ego either.
“I can show you the paperwork.”
“You have paperwork?”
“Yes, ma’am. State licensing board agrees that I am a verifiable and legitimately licensed therapist.”
We’ve returned to the back porch now and she stops, showing me a new emotion as her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Well, this trip just got interesting.”
She’s a good sport and I really like this girl. “I know you signed up for a different kind of vacation. But I promise you, if you stay, you won’t regret it.”
God, she smells good, too. It’s a sweet scent. A little like cotton candy.
“All right, cowboy. I expect to be pampered if I’m leaving this review you need so much.”
We both know that one positive review isn’t going to change the tide, but she’s got this wry smile and a secret behind her eyes and I’m going to find out what that’s all about if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter Two
Ruby
MRS. NICHOLS SHOWS me to my room in the main house after my walk with Dusty. There are secluded cabins not too far away, but I don’t feel like being isolated at night. Not when I overheard one of the ranch hands tell Dusty they lost another chicken to a coyote last night. I’m not sure if coyotes are dangerous to humans or not, but I’m not up for finding out the hard way.
Of course, I didn’t take danger too seriously when I agreed to stay.
Not when they told me cell service is spotty to none.
Not when they told me there was no Wi-Fi.
Not when they told me town was thirteen miles away.
Not when I saw the bulge in my cowboy host’s Wrangler jeans.
I’m not going to think about that too much right now. If that means I’m burying my head in the sand, so be it.
“Here’s your room, missy. I expect you’ll like it just fine.” Charlotte ge
stures me in, and I’m taken aback.
It’s more than lovely. A huge bed dominates the room with yards and yards of a white duvet puffed up with down. It’s starkly bright against the gleaming dark pillars of the four posts around it. The floor shines between braided rugs and smells like lemon.
“Mrs. Nichols, it’s gorgeous.”
She smiles, her crooked tooth endears and charms me. “I expect the minute I close this door, you’ll be jumping on the bed. It’s as tempting as a pile of leaves to a child.”
“You read my mind.”
My bags are already on a bench, ready for me to unpack. There’s an overstuffed chair in the corner with an inviting throw for a perfect reading nook. Which is good since there’s no television or even a phone in the room.
“Are all the rooms like this? So beautiful?”
“They’re all pretty, but this one is the biggest and best. The main house is finished. The team is working on building the chuck house and saloon now. Dusty has some big ideas. He’s a good man. A strong man.”
I catch her gaze as she watches me. I have a feeling she’s not talking about his brute strength, since that’s obvious in the way he’s built like an ox. “He doesn’t seem afraid of a little hard work. This place is going to need a lot of elbow grease to be as grand as ...say...the advertisement I saw for the contest.”
She narrows her eyes and chuffs at me, not the least bit ashamed of what she did. “The grand part of his plan is already here. The forest, the horses, the river, the sky. You won’t ever see anywhere else like it. The buildings and massages and gourmet stuff, that’s just icing on the cake. You’ll see. You’ll fall in love with Pair-a-Dice. We all did.”
She leaves me to unpack, and I fumble when I get to the red lingerie. I can’t help but think of Dusty and what his hands would look like as he peels the lace from my body. Would he be the gentleman cowboy? All pleases and ma’ams. Or would he be more like a wolf, tearing and snapping and feral?
My face heats up just thinking about the possibilities.
I could use some of that sweet tea right about now. I finish unpacking and grab my Kindle. There’s a lovely porch swing in the shade I want to try. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
I stop in the kitchen and ask for some tea, but Charlotte insists she’ll bring it out. I’m a guest, after all. I hate bothering her, but I know they want to impress me, so I should be gracious and make sure I seem suitably impressed. That would be the nice thing to do.
I’m about five minutes into my book when the sun is blocked by Paul Bunyan in a tuxedo. What in the world?
“Dusty? Is that you?”
“Miss Ruby, Charlotte says you ordered tea.”
He’s trying so hard to be formal as he lays out my tea and cute little crustless sandwiches that I giggle. When his face gets all red, I feel like a shit. “I’m sorry, Dusty. It’s just. I’m not sure what is happening right now. Why are you wearing a tuxedo in the middle of the afternoon and serving me iced tea?”
“Uncle Chuck rented the monkey suit.” He yanks off the clip-on tie. “I guess he thought it would make the resort part more believable.”
Everyone is trying so earnestly to make me have a nice time. The best room, the limo, the tuxedo-wearing cowboy. It’s all very sweet, if not a tad silly. “Can I tell you something without it coming off like criticism? As someone who’s worked in the hotel business for five years?”
A lot of men bristle when a woman tries to give them advice, but Dusty gets this really open look on his face, like he’s ready to soak up any knowledge I can impart. “I didn’t know you worked in a hotel. I’d love advice.”
“Well, it’s just a chain hotel. Nothing fancy. But I know a thing or two about guests. You want to give them the experience they paid for or expect. This is a ranch. Your guests don’t want tuxedos. They want cowboys and horses and to feel like they’re part of the experience. Even if it’s wrapped up in luxury.”
“So, you don’t think I should have waitstaff in formal attire?” He grins, and I realize he doesn’t either. He’s wearing the tuxedo because his uncle got it for him, and he would rather please his uncle than shame him. “How about chaps? Maybe next time, I should serve you wearing chaps.”
The thought of Dusty wearing chaps...and nothing else...pops into my mind. Judging from the smile on his face, that was his intention. You could sizzle bacon on my cheeks right now.
Dusty Cassidy is way out of my league. I’ve never dated anyone as hot or manly or driven. He’s got the kind of confidence that tells a girl he knows his way around a woman’s body. And I think he’s flirting with me.
I could flirt back. I want to. But it would be so humiliating to be brushed off. Then I’d spend the week avoiding him and hiding in my room. Which would be a shame because I think he’s nice and interesting, on top of being a total hottie, and I’d miss out on his company. I’m too nervous to make many guy friends where I live. The ones I come into contact with are either trying to move up the ladder and don’t care who they push out of the way to get to the next rung, or they have no ambition at all and don’t care who they have to be nice to if they can couch surf at your place.
Dusty is different from any man I’ve ever talked to. He’s attentive, and open-minded, and a true gentleman. He’s also ambitious, but in the good way. He wants to build something great. He wants to please his family. He seems so at ease in nature.
I just...I really want to get to know him. I don’t want to lose the connection I feel by trying too hard and lobbing a flirtation at him that misses the mark.
But if I don’t try, I’ll never know. And isn’t that worse?
Hell, I’m never going to see him again after this week. I might as well have a little fun. If nothing else, I can practice flirting so I can improve my range when I get back home. And if things go really well, my cowboy can teach me how to ride a stallion.
Easy, girl.
Here goes nothing.
“So Dusty, how does a guest go about booking her massage?”
Dusty
AFTER DINNER, AFTER my aunt and uncle retire to their own cabin, I set up the massage table in Ruby’s room. This is probably a mistake. I should not be touching a guest. Yeah, I’m a professional, but I don’t have professional feelings toward Ms. Ruby Grant, and I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to convince either of us otherwise.
At the very least, I should have set up the massage in an empty guest room. But I wanted her to be able to relax right away in the room and bathroom she’s already settled in.
I can do this. I might be horny as fuck, but I’m a man, not an animal.
Most of the time.
I set up the tray with the oils and turn on the soft spa music. The quiet snick of the bathroom door lets me know she’s come out. I take a deep breath and turn.
Fuck me, she’s beautiful.
She’s got her face clean of makeup and her hair in some messy kind of bun, and she’s wrapped in one of the soft white robes we ordered for the guests. She shouldn’t be so striking, but I feel like a dagger of lightning just wracked my body and the jolts are still zapping in my pants.
“Are you ready?” I ask, praying she’ll change her mind and hoping to God she won’t. I want to get my hands on that milky skin. I’m itching to glide my fingers around her curves. She’s got so many sweet ones.
She nods nervously. “I’ve only had one other massage before. It was...not like this.”
Her nerves steady mine. I feel useful when I can soothe her. “If anything makes you uncomfortable, you just let me know. The object here is for you to relax.”
“Right.” She nods briskly in the direction of the table. “I’ll just go get on that then.”
“There’s a towel you can wrap around yourself loosely. I can move it as I get to other parts of your body.” I turn for her privacy. “Lie on your stomach and let me know when you’re ready.”
The sound of her robe hitting the bed sends me a mental picture I’d give anything
to see in real time. I wonder if she left her panties on—I gave her the option to wear them or not, whichever made her more comfortable. “I’m ready.”
I take another deep breath and turn back to her. Holy shit. This is torture and bliss at the same time. She’s laid out like she’s on an all-you-can-eat buffet table. And I’m a man with a hearty appetite.
She shivers, trembling softly. “Are you cold, sweetness?”
“A little.”
I pour some oil into my hands and rub my palms together. “The oil is warm. We’ll get you comfortable in no time. I’m just going to drizzle a bit on your back, okay?”
“Okay.”
I start with her shoulders, using my palms to work in the lavender oil and loosen the tense muscles around her neck. It’s been a while since I’ve given a massage, but I find a rhythm that gently works her back and shoulders like waves lapping against the shore. I like this communion with another person. I like feeling the tension leave her body.
I wouldn’t want to do it all the time, but I sure as hell want to keep going.
She’s breathing deeper now. More relaxed. My hands are slowly working around her ribcage, closer and closer to her naked breasts, my fingers caressing the soft flesh on the sides.
This is dangerously close to crossing the line, but my cock is so hard I’m ready to explode. Her body is soft and sweet. She’s got just the right amount of cushion for a man. I want to roll her over and show her how long and hard this cowboy can ride.
“Tell me about the ranch. Wait...is it okay to talk?”
“That’s completely up to you. Most people prefer a little small talk, but remain mostly quiet. Some people don’t talk at all. Some yak a fella’s ear off.”
“I hate small talk.” She sighs. “But I am really interested in your plans. Charlotte says you’re working on the chuck house and saloon right now.”
This is good. Talking. It’s helping me stay distracted from the things I really want to do to her body.
