She eyed the liquid in a cleaned-out salad dressing bottle "You are a man of many talents."
Then she gulped, because to her that sounded dirty. But she bet he was. The way he yielded a knife made her shiver.
"You haven't tasted anything yet."
She did, and concurred with her diagnosis. "Wow. I've never tasted pancakes this good."
He grinned as he dug into his own breakfast.
***
Brandon was happy she was enjoying his food, but he wished she would stop moaning with every bite. She treated each mouthful as if it were an orgasmic experience.
He was getting turned on. Who knew breakfast could be so sensual? If she didn't stop, he was going to be tempted to take her on the counter.
He looked out the window and thought about baseball so his dick would calm down.
Actually, he started thinking about his rodeo days. He hadn't in years, but talking about it to Gemma brought it all back. He'd hoped for a longer career, but fate had other ideas.
After he received the diagnosis, his wife had tried to convince him to go back. One more time, she kept saying. His refusing was probably the beginning of the end for their marriage.
Jessica wasn't content with a life outside the spotlight. Even if that spotlight had only been at rodeos. Despite the hurt he still felt, he wished her well. His thoughts went back to Gemma. "Guess you’re enjoying it?"
"Yes, I am. I want this recipe."
He shook his head. "I never give up my recipes."
"Why not? If you aren't going to write a cookbook then there's no reason."
She had a point, but she still wasn't getting his recipe. "Doesn't matter. My secret."
"Fine," she said, then went back to eating. And moaning.
He mentally recited baseball statistics until she finished. Imagine if she was actually having sex? How noisy would she be?
He put the last bite in his mouth, thankful he could escape to his animals. If she'd made those noises any longer, he might have lost it.
He put his plate in the sink, then washed his hands. His animals weren't going to feed themselves.
With Gemma washing dishes, he put on his snow-shoveling gear and went out into the cold.
CHAPTER SIX
Once Brandon had left, Gemma breathed again. He was so much man to be alone with in a kitchen.
And he could cook. Not just throw together some food. He could cook. She enjoyed watching a guy be domestic. There was nothing sexier.
Those were some of the best pancakes she'd ever eaten. If he'd asked her to give him a blow job in payment for breakfast, she wouldn't have been able to get his pants off fast enough. Her knees would have hurt from smacking the floor.
She shook herself. Breakfast had been the closest thing to sex she'd had in quite a few months. Maybe that was why the food had affected her so much. Eating was sensual as was having sex.
If that man could make love as well as he cooks, he wouldn't be alone for long.
With the dishes done and drying, Gemma looked out the front window. As far as she could see, there was a lot of snow on the ground. The morning sun was just peaking above the horizon. The sky looked cloudless.
Now she had to get back to her car see if she could get out. Dressing in her now dry clothes, she slid her boots on. Hooker heels were not the best for walking in, but she had nothing else.
She opened the front door. Brandon had shoveled almost to the barn. Should she help him? Or would it be better if she was just out of his hair?
Looking around, she didn't spot another shovel. Where would he keep it? She shrugged.
With her purse in hand, she trotted over to where Brandon had stopped to lean on his shovel.
"I wanted to thank you for your hospitality. Your kitchen is clean. I need to go find my car."
"You're welcome." He grimaced at her, and she got the idea only his manners made him say the next words. "Do you want me to come with you?"
The Gemma from a few days ago would have jumped at the chance to have a man take care of her. Of course she would want a man to help her. That made life easy, but she'd changed her attitude.
Not anymore. She had to figure things out for herself. "No, thanks. I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Suit yourself."
He went back to shoveling. She trudged back to the house, then realized she'd have to get through a few feet of snow to get to her car.
Without asking for help, she had no other way. She sighed, glanced back at Brandon, then stepped into the snow. On her second step she fell, letting out a small shriek.
Her newly dried clothes were now wet. She'd walk to her car, in the wind, with wet clothes. With her head held high.
Brandon must have heard her, because he was at her side in a moment, helping her up. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just not sure how to walk in snow this deep."
"Well, I guess if you wait, I can use the tractor to plow the driveway. It just isn't my priority right now. The animals need to be fed."
She brushed snow off of herself. "Uh, can I help you feed the animals? That way it'll go faster."
He looked her up and down. Really, how hard could it be to give food to the animals? She'd had a hamster once. You fed it, gave it water, cleaned its cage. Cows and goats were just bigger.
"Okay. Let me finish shoveling."
"Do you have another shovel?" she asked.
Again, he looked her up and down. Did she have a sign on her that said, "Weak"?
"No, I don't. I have to shovel to the barn to get the tractor to get the rest of the area and driveway. If I need more shoveling, you can do it then."
As if the subject were over, he marched back to where he'd stopped his task. A light wind blew some snow around, making her pull her coat tighter. The land was flat, and she could see for miles. She wondered if she stood on a box, could she see the Rockies?
"What should I do in the meantime?"
"Go inside and get warm. I'll let you know when I need you."
***
Brandon went back to shoveling, and heard his front door open and close. He couldn't breathe or think with Gemma around. If the animals weren't in need of feeding, he'd plow the driveway first to get her off his property.
His back ached, and once again he felt all of his rodeo injuries. They made him feel like an old man.
Spike romped in the snow, despite the drifts being taller that he was. He didn't seem to mind. He kept digging his nose into it and barking and tossing snow into the air. Brandon paused for a moment when he reached the barn door, watching and laughing. . When he slid open the barn door, there stood Houdini. At least he had been smart enough to stay inside during the storm last night.
"Hey, Houdini."
He patted the pony's head. The pony must have been hungry because he didn't try to escape.
"I better tell Gemma it's time."
Leaving the barn door open, Brandon walked the path he'd made back to the house. Opening the door, he said, "Gemma, it's time."
She appeared at his side, as if she'd been waiting by the door. "I'm ready."
He led her to the barn.
In a voice reserved for puppies and babies, Gemma squealed. "He's so cute."
Houdini shook his head as if the sound hurt his ears. "That's Houdini. He's a pony."
"Can I pet him?"
Brandon looked at her. "Of course."
She reached out her hand as if afraid the animal would explode. Patting his head, she had a large smile on her face. One that lit up her eyes. Her whole posture changed, right before his eyes.
Imagine what she'd do for the person who could make her do that. Brandon wanted to see if he could make her face light up like that again.
Then he shook himself. In a matter of hours, she would be gone from his life.
He walked farther into the barn. "The feed is in that room at the end."
"You're good boy, aren't you?"
He spun around, but she wasn't talking to him. "Can you cl
ose the door?"
She gave the pony one last pat, then pulled the door closed. "How big will he get?"
"What do you mean?"
Brandon walked to the feed room, Gemma at his heels. She bounced when she walked, as if she couldn't contain her energy.
"He's a pony. How big will he get?"
"A pony is a small horse, not a baby horse. He's a miniature pony, and he's already full-sized."
Gemma glanced back. "Oh. Why did you name him Houdini?"
"Because he gets out of every cage, stall, or barricade I put him in."
She looked at Houdini, who had followed her. "Maybe he's lonely?"
"Lonely?"
"Yeah, maybe he wants to be with another animal," she said.
Brandon just shrugged. He was no horse or pony whisperer. "I don't know what his problem is. The feed is in the barrel. Better yet, you can give the cows water."
Her eyes widened when she looked in their direction, as if she’d only just realized that there were cows in the barn.
"That's what I smelled," she said.
He gave her credit that she hadn't wrinkled her nose at the smell. He himself didn't notice the smell anymore.
"There's a hose at that end of the barn. Fill the troughs on the outside."
"I never knew cows drank water."
Huh? "Every living thing needs water," Brandon said.
"Oh, yeah, I guess."
She did the task as he poured feed into the other trough the cows had access to.
"Do they go outside?"
"In the warmer weather, or in the cold, if there is no snow on the ground."
"What's in the feed?"
She was full of questions. This was a task usually done in the quiet. Once in awhile, he'd talk to an animal to hear his own voice, but not often. "Protein, fat and some vitamins that they need."
"Do you have to milk them?"
He chuckled. "These are beef cows, raised for meat, not milk."
"Oh. I see."
He braced himself. Those not on a farm usually had trouble reconciling the doleful faces with the steaks they liked to consume.
"Are they organic?"
He sighed. Guess they were playing twenty questions. He had to give her credit. She hadn't shied away from the large animals. "In a sense, but I haven't applied for organic status."
"You should, you could charge more money."
He laughed. "I thought you were a singer."
She put her hands on her hips. "I am. I have knowledge of other subjects, too."
"Okay. Now we have to go to the horse barn, but that's only a few steps away."
"Horses?"
"Only one at the moment. My ride."
Her eyes lit up. "Can I ride him?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gemma refused to be insulted by his asking if she'd ever ridden a horse. She was more of a city girl, but had always been fascinated by the country. Her parents hadn't let her join 4-H, sadly.
"There's really nowhere to ride him at this point," Brandon said. "I don't usually take him out in the snow to ride."
"Will you put him out in the pasture?"
"Yes, it's actually better for him. He'll stay out most of the day with a blanket on him for warmth. He needs exercise, and I can't ride him in the snow like this," Brandon said.
She nodded. "I know nothing about horses."
"That's fine as long as you don't own one."
She laughed. "What does the horse eat?"
They'd entered the horse barn, and there stood a gorgeous gray gelding. He made a noise when Brandon patted his nose, almost like a greeting. Then the horse looked at her.
"Can I pet him?"
"He likes his nose rubbed."
With light fingers, she rubbed his nose. The horse's eyes fell closed.
"He likes you."
"All your animals seem to like me."
Why don't you?
"He needs hay, mostly. In the summer he eats more grass, but now with the snow I'll give him more hay."
"He doesn't have feed?"
The horse nudged her neck when she stopped petting him. She rubbed his nose with less trepidation this time, knowing he wouldn't bite.
"A little bit."
Brandon came back with a large bale of hay. He opened the gate to his horse's stall.
"What's his name?"
"Beans."
"Interesting name."
She watched as he broke apart the hay bale, then put it in a trough. "Anything else?"
"One more barn. The goats," he said.
They went to that task, giving the goats their feed and hay. "What do you use the goats for?"
"For their milk. I can get a good price from creameries that make cheese. More than cow's milk."
She leaned against the side of the barn, but her gaze went around it, as if taking it all in. "Have you ever made cheese?"
Part of him appreciated her curiosity. "No, I haven't tried. Maybe someday."
"Is it hard?" she asked.
This was like talking to a toddler. Once he answered, she had another question. She would be exhausting.
"I've never researched it."
"Are we done?"
"Yes," he said, thankful for that. She wouldn't be able to ask him more questions. "I just have to fire up the tractor, then get the driveway plowed. You can go back in the house while I do that."
She was getting cold. Her jacket wasn't made for Iowa winters. "Thanks"
***
Brandon watched Gemma walk away, then he turned to his horse. "Traitor. Do you have to like her, too?"
Spike came inside, sitting at his feet.
"You're no better. Don't get used to her. She's leaving today."
He took a deep breath. Something about Gemma made his heart race and his hands get sweaty. Sweaty hands in the middle of winter? Made no sense.
Brandon could not wait until she was gone. If he could, he'd drive her to the nearest airport so she'd get to California faster.
Then he sighed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this way about a woman. His own wife hadn't stirred this much emotion in him. That made him stop for a moment.
Maybe he and Jessica just hadn’t been meant to be.
He shook his head. Didn't matter now. She was off making her way on Broadway.
Gemma would soon be off making her way in Hollywood.
And he could go back to his normal sedate life. His boring life. Should he take up a hobby to fill the hours?
Nope, he had his cookbook.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to rush Gemma back to her car. He also wanted to take Gemma to his bed and not come up for air for days.
The animals be damned.
Letting a sigh escape him, he stroked his horse. "Tell me I'm nuts, Beans."
His horse wouldn't, of course. He didn't really think his horse could talk, but some days it would have been nice. Nice to hear another voice.
Nope. He would live out his days alone, but Gemma had inspired him to think more about his cookbook.
He frowned, patted Beans one last time, then left the barn. Spike followed close behind, as if he wondered what his owner was up to.
The tractor sat in another barn used for the farm equipment. Not too much was in that barn other than Brandon's pickup truck. He only used it to drive to town, so despite being a few years old, it still looked to be in good condition.
He rolled the door out of the way enough to get the tractor out with the plow on it.
The sooner he cleared the driveway, the sooner Gemma would be out of his life.
***
While Gemma waited for Brandon to clear the driveway, she snooped a little.
She knew she shouldn't, but something about the quiet man who could cook like a five-star chef made her wonder about him. After glancing out the front window, she strode to the bathroom. She opened his medicine chest. He had shaving gear, not a fancy electric shaver, but an old-fashioned shaver and a cup for mixing up shaving soap
.
The medicine chest held no medication other than aspirin. He had no fancy lotions or aftershave. His possessions screamed low-maintenance.
Next, she looked at his bedroom. She stood in the doorway and took in the brown and tan sheets. His bed was made, but it wasn't ready for a magazine spread.
That meant he was efficient without being showy. Not a metro sexual at all. Just a man.
With some hesitation, she stepped into his room. She took in his masculine scent. No fussy man here. The pillow still held the dent from his head. Her hand hovered over the spot.
What was she doing? She was going to be gone within the hour. Why was she so curious about the man? There was no future here.
She shook herself and backed out of the room.
She heard the front door when she reached the hallway. Hopefully he’d think she’d been in the bathroom.
"Driveway's clear. I can take you in the truck up to the road."
"Let me get my boots back on."
She did, then followed him to his truck that was idling outside. The dog already sat in the cab, and she had to nudge him out of the way to get in.
She had her keys, purse and phone. She'd be able to hop in the car and go.
The drive took only a few minutes, despite how long the driveway seemed when she was walking down it yesterday. The sun shone bright and reflected sharply off the snow.
Everything seemed to sparkle. Under different circumstances, it would be a perfect a winter wonderland.
She was happy to see that the road had been plowed. What she didn't see was her car. She slid her way out of the large cab and looked around.
"Do you remember where you left it?"
Brandon had come around to her side of the truck. The wind blew, and it sent a chill through her. "I was driving from the interstate."
He pointed over his shoulder. "You would have come from that direction, then."
"I saw the mailbox when I slid into the snow bank."
The pair walked a few feet up the road.
Spike barked, then ran around them as they walked. No cars passed them.
Brandon stopped at a snow bank. "Could this be your car?"
She eyed the large pile of the white stuff, disappointment racing through her. "Oh no."
"I brought the shovel."
He retrieved it from the truck, then began moving snow. After a few strokes, she saw a tire.
The White Cowboy - Complete BWWM Romance Box Set Page 4
