by Brill Harper
All at Once
It's Complicated, Volume 2
Brill Harper
Published by Brill Harper, 2019.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
ALL AT ONCE
First edition. November 14, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 Brill Harper.
ISBN: 978-1393557517
Written by Brill Harper.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
All at Once (It's Complicated, #2)
About
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Sexy bad boys who do sexy bad things with their rough hands and the innocent virgins who love them. What’s not to like? Sign up for Brill's News so you never miss a new release. I won’t spam you—I don’t have time! You’ll only get emails from me when there is a new release or a really great sale.
About
Her summer of raw emotion and unbridled passion...
Bliss Camden didn’t know what she was signing up for when the employment agency sent her to the Wylder Colt Ranch as a live-in housekeeper for best friends and ranch owners, Levi Colt and Wylder Madison. The two rough, ready, and wild cowboys make her feel things she’s never felt before...things she shouldn’t feel about her employers. Wicked things.
Things they want to teach her all about.
It’s wrong. It’s primal. It’s delicious.
She’s not experienced enough to deal with one dominating cowboy, much less two. Besides, they’d never look twice at a frumpy wallflower like her...would they?
Author Confession: I see you, reader. I know what you want. Alphamallow heroes and awkward, nerdy heroines. It’s a ranch, so there might be roping, riding, and wrangling. Ahem. And the swords. They touch.
Chapter One
Bliss
I don’t know what my headstone is actually going to say, but I can tell you right now my cause of death is: melted into a puddle of her own hormones due to exposure of extreme testosterone and sex pheromones.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” the tall, buff cowboy repeats, my hand still folded in his big, callused paw.
This would be the ideal time to respond with something that resembles manners or even basic coherency, but I have never been confronted with a man made up of such pure masculinity. Granted, I don’t get out much. But, still.
He’s just amazing. His name is Levi Colt, but he goes by Colt, I guess. He’s six foot something, barrel-chested, and his jeans are painted on lovingly like a second skin of faded denim-blue. His smile is wide, genuine, and the little lines at his eyes tell me he smiles often.
“Ma’am?” he repeats.
“Sorry. It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Colt.”
“Just Colt is fine.” Right. He told me that already. Duh.
He lets go of my hand, and I’m bereft. I would like very much to just crawl up his body and burrow in. This has literally never happened to me before. I am usually unimpressed enough by men that I thought maybe I went the other way. But that didn’t work either. (Her cherry Chapstick did nothing for me, but it was still a fun party.) So I assumed maybe I had no sex drive to speak of.
I was wrong. So very, very wrong. I have a sex drive that is currently running me the fuck over. This cowboy with surfer hair and eye crinkles has just ruined my panties.
“Let’s get you shown to your room,” he says, picking up my suitcase. “Follow me.”
“Will Mrs. Colt be here soon?” I ask. The sooner I meet her, the better. I think. I hope I won’t lust after her husband once I get my bearings. I’m not known for lusting. This is all so weird. But meeting the Mrs. should affect me like a glass of cold water. I hope.
“Nah, there is no Mrs. Colt, darlin’,” he tells me. “Wylder, you’ll meet him later, and I live in this big old house by ourselves. That’s why we need a live-in housekeeper. We’re not slobs, but this place needs a feminine touch for sure, and we’re both single.”
I assumed I’d be working for a family. Not two single men. It’s a little nerve-racking. I guess if I feel uncomfortable after I meet the other rancher, I’ll just leave. It’s not like they hired me as a sex slave or anything.
I don’t think.
I’m just being paranoid.
I hope.
And “big old house” is him trying to be humble. The house is brand-new and a veritable log cabin mansion. The timber logs are gorgeous, and huge floor-to-ceiling windows open up the view from every side. Mountains and prairie everywhere you look. I would think that the wide-open spaces would make me feel vulnerable since I usually prefer to tuck into nooks and corners whenever possible, but something about this place makes me feel safe.
“Colt” takes me upstairs to a bedroom bigger than my college apartment last semester. It’s more than gorgeous. It’s like a resort suite that I’ve only ever seen in pictures because the idea of me going to a resort is laughable. “Um, these are your maid’s quarters?” I ask
“Well, technically, it’s one of the two master bedrooms. But we figured you’d have more use for the en suite accommodations than either of us, so we put you in here instead. I took a smaller room down the hall.”
“You gave me your room?” I squeak. Did he sleep in this bed? Did he do things to himself and other women in this room? How am I supposed to sleep imagining what may have happened in here? I’m having trouble remembering to breathe thinking about it, much less sleep.
“Trust me, there is no room in this house that isn’t great. The smaller room actually has a better view, so don’t worry about me. I still have my own bathroom, just not a sunken tub like the one in here.”
“I just...” I look around. “I’ve never stayed anywhere so nice in my entire life.” Nice seems like such a small, plain word. I feel like a cowgirl princess if that’s a thing. If not, maybe Disney should get on it.
Colt smiles like I just told him he won the lottery. “We want you to be happy here. Nobody has time to go through another hiring process.”
Not one person in my life has ever wanted me to be happy before. Certainly no one has put my comfort ahead of their own. “Well, your salary is more than generous, the list of duties doesn’t seem too bad, though the house is bigger than I thought it would be, and the amount of time off I get is just short of ludicrous.” I have so much time off that if I were not on summer break from school, I could still manage this job and my course work. Especially since the room and board is included.
“Yeah, we wanted a quality employee, so we’re willing to pay. It’s been a really rough couple of years.” A shadow passes over his face, and I immediately want to do something to make him smile again. I’m such a dork. This hulking, handsome cowboy probably has women lined up to the highway eager to do things to make him smile. All he wants from me is three squares and fewer dust bunnies.
I get a quick tour of the upstairs, peeking in the rooms of both men. Colt wasn’t lying—they aren’t slobs. “Colt, this place looks really clean already. Why did you hire a live-in housekeeper? You could probably get someone in here once a week just to keep it up for you.”
“We’re busy outside all day. When we come in, we want a good meal, a clean house, and I don’t know...a friendly voice and smile. We’ve been eating sandwiches and cl
eaning the house on our own, but we want to enjoy the evenings for a change. We’ve got a great entertainment setup in the den that we never use because we work too much and there’s always more to do. You’ll see the den downstairs. It’s great. Surround sound. The works.” He pauses. “You’re absolutely welcome to join us in there at night to watch movies. Though, Wylder is a baseball fan so there will be a lot of that, too.”
“Thanks,” I answer, not sure why they want the maid to watch TV with them. I thought rich people preferred their help to operate in the background. This is the weirdest job ever, but I don’t even care once I see the kitchen. The glorious, spacious, top-of-the-line everything kitchen. I could have a dance in it. What is that one cowboys do? “Boot Scootin’ Boogie”? We could pack several rows of line dancers in this kitchen.
I can’t help it, I geek out. “Oh my God!” This kitchen is better than some commercial kitchens. Those I’ve also only seen in pictures or on TV, but I have a Pinterest board of kitchen geekery. “All you guys have been eating is sandwiches?” I open the fridge. It’s stocked with a lot more than fixings for roast beef on rye. The produce alone makes my heart race in anticipation. The arugula is prettier to me than any Monet painting in a museum.
“I went shopping before you got here so you’d have something to start with. You have a big food budget, though. Wylder and I like to eat, so whatever you still want to purchase is fine. I was hoping that by stocking it today, maybe you’d be able to make dinner starting tonight? It’s been awhile since we’ve had home-cooked food. I know Wylder would appreciate it, too.”
I almost hug him. “I would love to start tonight. Now. I’m so excited to try out that La Cornue range.” I think it’s the Chateau 120 model. Which makes me giddy. “I hope you guys filled out allergy forms in the binder the agency sent over with me, as well as food aversions.”
“There aren’t many of those. We’re pretty easy to please. Maybe just not sandwiches for a week or two.”
I waggle my finger at him, in my element at last. “You say that now, but you have not tasted my fresh baked bread.”
His mouth practically waters. “You make bread?”
“I love baking. And cooking. If there are any special requests, just let me know.” I pause. “Thank you for this opportunity. I’m going to make sure you two fall in love with my cooking, so I don’t get fired if my cleaning isn’t as great.” I mean, I can do it. I’m just not Monica Geller about it.
He laughs, his blue eyes flashing. “I’m looking forward to handing you my heart in that case. I just won’t bring out the white gloves.”
He leaves, I watch him go, believe me, I watch him go, and then I get to work creating my first meal in the kitchen of my dreams. The ingredients are amazing, he must have gone to the farmer’s market. Of course, being a small ranch, the beef is probably the best I’ve seen, and the freezer is full of it. The guys come in the back-door hours later as I’m setting their table. The binder notes said they prefer to eat in the kitchen.
I turn, ready to meet my other boss, hoping my apron isn’t too dirty.
Well, fuck me.
He’s just as potent to my girly bits as Colt. In a completely different way. His face is sharper, his brows dark slashes above his eyes, and he might even be a little bigger than Colt. His eyes, his eyes are darker than chocolate, and I feel like his gaze is a laser beam directed at me looking for secrets. His face is stern. So stern.
And that beard, though.
I swallow hard. There is a mad fluttering under my ribs. My breasts all of the sudden ache. This is insane. Twice in one day?
“So you’re the new girl,” he says in the kind of voice that rumbles inside me like too much reverberating bass in a rap song from a passing car.
Colt jostles him. “Nice, Wylder. She has a name.” To me, Colt says. “Excuse him, he doesn’t get out much.”
Well, I know how that is.
“Hi,” I manage. “I’m Bliss.”
“Hmmm,” he responds. Did his voice just thrum on my clit? What is going on in my body right now? Is any of what I’m experiencing a sign of impending stroke?
“Dinner is ready,” I say cheerily, covering my sudden flush of unwanted nerves. “I’ll serve and get out of your hair.” I stir a pot that doesn’t need stirring so as to look busy and not so addled. In fact, the pot is empty.
“Eat with us.”
I pause the wooden spoon. It’s not an invitation or even a request. It’s an order issued by Wylder. A demand. And he walks past me to the sink, presumably to wash up. I put a cover on the pot in case he comes back my way and notices me stirring air.
Colt leans down near my ear, talking low and dangerously close, startling me and making me very glad I covered the empty pot. “Don’t mind him. He doesn’t have a lot of people skills lately, but he’s a good guy. My best friend for as long as I can remember.”
I nod, and he too goes to the sink. I can still feel his breath on my skin. I will not be surprised if my nipples have poked holes into my bra today.
I’m shaky, but I pull down another plate and serve the three of us up. We get seated, the guys across from each other and me in the middle. Colt compliments me on my cooking, several times. We discuss the Jeep in the garage for my use. We talk about the weekly schedule, my days off, my shopping budget...all while Mr. Taciturn says virtually nothing but, “Pass the potatoes.”
It’s a little uncomfortable and strange...Colt being so nice and Wylder being so aloof. Maybe he doesn’t like me. Maybe he thinks I’m not good enough. Maybe dinner isn’t to his liking, maybe—
“Does she know why she’s really here?”
Wylder
THE SILENCE AROUND the table feels loud, but that’s okay, the silence in my head always feels loud, too.
Colt is shooting daggers at me from his eyes, but the little miss doesn’t look directly at me. She hasn’t most of the evening. I’ve been looking at her though. Fuck me, but she’s pretty. A round little body with the kind of tits that belong on a cartoon character, not a college girl. Not a college girl living with two full-grown men. No, tits like hers are an embarrassment of riches. If you believe more than a handful is a waste. I don’t. I like my cups to runneth over. My new employee pretty much stepped out of my wet dreams and into my kitchen.
She can cook, too. I haven’t had a meal like this since my ma’s cooking.
But I’m pretty sure I’m going to fire Ms. Bliss Camden before the night is through.
There’s no way I can resist the temptation. I make her nervous, which only ratchets up my desire for her. I like the way her pulse is racing in her throat. The way she fidgets when she feels me staring at her but is too docile to look up. She makes me want to challenge her and keep on challenging until I see her spark...just so I can dominate her right back to the submissive little thing in front of me.
Nobody has answered my question yet. It just lingers over the table like smoke. “Well, does she? Does she know why she’s really here?” I ask Colt again.
Bliss still doesn’t look at me, but she does look at Colt. Ain’t that sweet? She thinks he’s safe. “What is he talking about?”
A seldom seen frown crosses my best friend’s face. “He’s just messing with you,” he answers, daring me to contradict him.
I lean back in my chair, pleasantly full from a fantastic dinner. “We came up with the idea to hire a live-in housekeeper because we wanted a wife.”
She whips her head in my direction. Eyes wide. Mouth open. If she were on her knees, she’d be perfect.
“It was a joke,” Colt says quickly. “We were joking. Wishing we had a wife. Being assholes about it, actually. Saying it would be nice if we had a little woman to take care of the house and our stomachs.”
He leaves off a good portion of that conversation. Someone to take care of our dicks and blow us whenever we wanted was included. But he’s right. We were being jerks. My mother, rest her soul, would have smacked us both upside the head for being so se
xist about the cooking and cleaning being the duty of a “little woman.” She would have tanned our hides for the blow job comments. Then she would have sent my dad in to finish us off.
I can’t resist egging her on some more, though. “But then we decided we didn’t want to deal with the other things that come with having a wife like...nagging, conversations about emotions, mothers-in-law. If we hired a wife, we could skip all the bullshit and just get the perks.”
She flattens her lips into a firm line and glares at me. Oh, man, now my dick is twitching.
Colt blows out a heavy breath. “It was just a joke,” Colt repeats.
I want to rile them both. I don’t know why. “And then we decided we could just share a wife, since we share everything else. What do we need two for? Isn’t that right, Colt?”
Look at that little pulse drumming in her neck. I want to put my mouth right there. I wonder if she’d let me bite her in bed. Leave my marks all over her.
“And then, when we stopped laughing, we decided we could just hire a housekeeper. Which is you,” Colt answers. “And your job duties have been laid out in the agency binder, and we don’t expect anything else from you that is not outlined in those pages. I’m sorry he’s being a dick.”
She relaxes. Colt has that way with women. People like him. He’s naturally generous. I don’t know why he’s put up with my bullshit for so long. The one thing I can count on in this life is his loyalty. And he’s got mine until his last breath.
But he’s gonna be pissed if I ruin all the work he’s put into getting our housekeeper. It took me a long time to relent on having someone else living here. Hell, we could make a lot more money if I relented about the permanent ranch hands, too. But I’m still having a hard time with that. It makes more financial sense to expand our herd and bring on full-time ranch hands, I know. But I’m wary of people living on my land anymore. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone else.
