by Ali Parker
He slipped his hand into my panties. I plunged my fingers into his thick dark hair and took a wavering breath as I gazed up at the stars above.
Wyatt placed a few more kisses upon my cleavage and looked up at me. “Good morning.”
* * *
My alarm went off at quarter to five in the morning.
My eyes snapped open, and instead of looking up at a map of stars, I found myself staring at the bedroom ceiling.
“Damn it,” I breathed.
My body was still acutely aware of just how steamy the dream had been. I could almost feel Wyatt’s warm hands on my skin and his hot breath on my chest.
Why did it have to end right then? Right when things were getting good?
I sat up, fanning my cheeks, and took a few steadying breaths. At least I was wide awake.
I’d gotten up at this early hour for three days in a row now, and I was starting to feel the side effects of rising early and laboring hard. My body was full of aches and pains that hadn’t been present in my dream, my eyes were heavy and tired, and my brain was foggy with fatigue.
Another two hours of sleep would have been wondrous. But that would be two hours of lost time with Wyatt.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and padded across the hardwood floor to the bathroom, where I did my business, splashed water on my face, brushed my teeth, and tied my hair up in a messy bun. I pinned back a few loose strands, remembering how annoying it had been when my hair was in my face yesterday while we worked, and then I went back into the bedroom to change into a pair of jeans and a loose tee.
I laced my sneakers and went downstairs to find Wyatt in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
He greeted me with a smile, and my mind was bombarded with flashes of him in the dream. Him kissing me. Him touching me. Holding me. Him getting within inches of my wet, needy pussy.
“Morning,” he said.
I swallowed and tried to push down the lingering memories. “Good morning.”
He grabbed a second mug from the cupboard and poured me a cup of coffee. “I wasn’t sure if you’d make it down here this early this morning. I wondered if you might sleep in for an extra hour or so. I wouldn’t have held it against you.”
I took the coffee and sipped it. The rich dark roast was not a pleasant mix with my toothpaste. “I’m ready for another day. Bring it on, Brewer.”
He chuckled and then held up a finger toward me. “All right, but one second. I have something for you.”
He walked around the kitchen island to a box sitting on one of the stools. He put it on the counter and slid it toward me before rapping his knuckles softly on the lid. “I thought you might need these if you were going to keep helping out on the ranch.”
I looked from the box to him and then back to the box. “What is it?”
“Open it and find out.”
He watched me over the rim of his mug as he sipped his coffee, and I lifted the lid.
Inside were a pair of chocolate-brown cowboy boots. They were almost the exact same shade as my new bag. The soles were black, and the leather was worn, but they were beautiful. So very beautiful.
“Wyatt,” I breathed as I picked up one of the boots and turned it around, running my thumb over the soft leather. “This is too much. You didn’t have to.”
“I know. I wanted to. Those little sneakers of yours aren’t going to last more than a week if we keep going the way we have been. You needed a real pair of ranch shoes. And well, these are as close to that as I could get.” He put his coffee down and slid his hands into his pockets. “They were my mother’s. They’ve been sitting on the top shelf of my closet for nearly fifteen years. It’s about time someone got some use out of them.”
I stared at the boot in my hands. “Wyatt, I can’t wear your mother’s boots.”
“Why not?”
“Well.” I paused, unsure of the exact reason why.
He lifted his eyebrows expectantly. “Yes?”
I put the boot back in the box. “I don’t feel like I’ve earned them.”
Wyatt chuckled and took both boots out of the box. “Nonsense. My mother would have loved you, and that’s a good enough reason for you to be the one to wear these. What size are you? Seven and a half?”
“How did you—”
“I may have looked inside your sneakers when you took them off yesterday.”
I blushed. “Oh.”
“These are an eight. But that’s all right because cowboy boots fit a bit on the smaller side. Here. Put them on. See what you think.”
I did as he asked and stepped into the boots. They hugged my feet around the arch, but I had some wiggle room for my toes. They were surprisingly comfortable and offered a lot more support than my sneakers. “They fit perfectly.”
“I figured they would. Come on. Let’s put them to the test and see what you think as the day goes on. In case it wasn’t clear, they’re yours to keep, even when this month is done.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. Otherwise, they’ll just end up back in that box in the closet where nobody gets any use or joy from them.”
“For what it’s worth, your mother had excellent taste.”
Wyatt finished his coffee. “My father bought them for her, actually. The first night she ever spent at this ranch was their wedding night. And two days after the wedding, they got up together and started working. And he gave her those.”
“There never was a more romantic pair of boots in the whole world,” I said.
Wyatt grinned, and I stepped in close. He dropped his head, and I went to the tips of my toes, and then I gave him a kiss. Then I patted his chest with one hand. “Let’s go, cowboy. Those chores aren’t going to do themselves.”
His laughter followed me out the sliding door and onto the back porch.
Chapter 11
Wyatt
“I didn’t think she’d make it through the week, man. Honestly.” Boone tipped his head back to drain the remnants in his beer. Then he crushed the can and tossed it in the grass beside the other three empties which we would collect on our way back up to the house.
Dodge had just cracked his second beer, and he nodded along with what Boone had said as he leaned against the post of the front gate at the ranch entrance. “Yeah. Piper’s one hell of a surprise. I figured she’d pull through for a day. Maybe two. But a whole week? Shit.”
Boone tossed me a beer. I caught it, cracked the top, and took a sip. We’d been hard at work all day. The temperature was hotter than it had been all spring. Sweat had dried on my skin, and we were taking a load off with a couple drinks while Piper showered.
“She’s something all right,” I said.
“Something?” Dodge chuckled. “She took to this work like a duck to water.”
“Like a penguin to ice,” Boone added.
Dodge shot him a menacing look. “Was what I said not good enough? You had to pile your own little analogy on top of it?”
Boone shrugged. “Sorry.”
I rolled my eyes at the dynamic duo. “She fits in. I agree. And she seems to enjoy it. Or she’s a really good actress who is afraid of offending me.”
“No girl can act that well,” Dodge said. “She smiles while mucking out stables. And she’s still cracking jokes past noon. Man, she likes it. Don’t overthink it.”
“You’re right,” I said, bending down to pick up the empty beer cans in the grass. “Come on. Let’s head back up to the house.”
“Should we close the gate?” Dodge asked.
I shook my head. “No. I’m taking Piper out tonight. I’ll close them when we leave.”
The three of us turned to make our way up the drive, but the sound of tires rolling down Cherry Road caught our attention, and we all turned back as a black Ford F150 approached the gates and drove through to come to a stop about five paces from where we stood.
If Boone were a dog, his hackles would have been raised, and his lips would be peeled off his tee
th in a snarl. As it was, his fists were balled at his sides, and his jaw was clenched. “What the hell are they doing here?”
Dodge stepped up beside me, standing so close his shoulder was nearly touching mine. “Probably here to bust our balls is all.”
“Rub salt in the wound again,” Boone growled.
“Pricks,” Dodge said.
“Fuckers,” Boone added.
Dodge leaned forward to peer at him on my other side. “Really? Again? Why do you always do that? Pricks was just fine. You didn’t have to go one upping me.”
I held up my hand. “Shut up. Both of you.”
Dodge fell silent and straightened up as the doors to the F150 popped open and two men hopped out. Their boots scuffed the dirt in unison as they walked to the front of the truck, leaned up against it, and hooked their thumbs in their belt loops.
On the right was Elias Buck. And on the left was his younger brother Hank. They were barely a year apart and shared more similarities than they did differences. They were both tall, blond, beefy, and equally as dangerous as they were mean.
“Can I help you boys with something?” I asked.
The two of them exchanged a look and then, as per usual, Elias took the lead. “We were driving by and saw you three and thought we’d stop and say hi.”
“And steal a peek at this rumored girl we heard is staying with you for the month,” Hank said.
Of course, they’d heard about Piper. I instantly blamed Clarice and her big mouth.
“So, where is she?” Elias asked.
“Get bent,” Boone said.
Elias’s eyebrows shot up, and he snorted. “We’re just making small talk, ranch hand. Easy on the draw. Everybody’s being friendly here. Right?” He looked at me.
“I have no interest in playing games with you two,” I said.
“Nobody’s playing any games,” Elias said.
Hank chuckled. “Word is this new girl on the ranch is putting your two stable boys to shame, Wyatt. We hear she’s a real hard worker. With a great ass. Though, I imagine that’s because of how much of a hard worker she is.”
“Watch it, Buck,” Boone grated, taking a step forward.
I put a hand on his chest to hold him back while Elias and Hank chuckled at Boone’s expense. Elias crossed his arms over his chest and clicked his tongue. “Some things never change, huh, boys? You’re still hot headed and impulsive as ever.”
“And you’re still a snake in the grass,” Boone spat.
Elias shrugged one shoulder and didn’t deny it. His brother, however, puffed up his chest like a bird during mating season, arched a thick eyebrow, and looked Boone up and down. “How’s your momma, Boone?”
“Enough,” I said, cutting through the tension that was steadily building between us.
I had no time for this shit. I’d already wasted countless hours and sleepless nights agonizing over these clowns, and I had no interest in letting them into my thoughts now. Not with Piper around. She deserved all of my attention.
“Like we said, we’re just here to check in on you,” Elias said. “And see if we could get lucky enough to get a look at this mystery girl. Clarice says she’s sweet as pie.”
“Cherry pie.” Hank chuckled.
“On a warm summer evening,” Elias added.
I rolled my shoulders and pushed down the rising anger that swelled up inside me like a goddamn monsoon.
Boone, however, failed to accomplish a false sense of calm. “She is sweet, you fucking dolts. And she’s too good for either of you. So piss off before I take my anger out on that shiny truck of yours.”
Elias snickered. “Too good for us? You mean like how you all said Shannon was too good for me?”
I felt both Boone and Dodge glance my way. The anger swelled, broke, and washed away. These fools were not worth my time.
“You can go,” I said, nodding at their truck and then pointing my chin down Cherry Road. “There’s nothing for you to see here. And I’m not rising to your antagonizing tactics.”
“Antagonizing tactics?” Elias snorted.
“Someone bring me a thesaurus.” Hank chuckled.
I rolled my eyes and turned away from them. They’d exhausted all of the tools in their tool belt in terms of pissing me off. When discussing Piper hadn’t worked, they’d moved on to poke me about Shannon, my ex.
Boone and Dodge fell into step behind me as I slid my hands in my pockets and started walking back up the drive.
I’d been overly optimistic that they would leave if I started walking away.
“Shannon still talks about you, you know?” Elias called from behind me.
Boone and Dodge both growled like loyal guard dogs on either side of me as I kept walking. I gritted my teeth. “Keep walking.”
“Pricks,” Dodge said.
“It’s nothing new,” I said. “Just them looking for something to take up their afternoon. I refuse to be their plaything.”
Boone sighed. “Why can’t we turn the tables on them just once and use them as our playthings?”
Dodge nodded eagerly. “Yeah. It wouldn’t be hard. They’re dumb as posts.”
“They’re not as dumb as you think,” I said. “Besides, I have no interest wasting my time playing petty games with the likes of them.”
Elias’s voice followed me up the drive, and it was closer than before. They were following us. “Shannon told me all about how you fell apart after Daddy died.”
I stopped walking. So did Dodge and Boone. Both of them turned their heads to look at me. Boone licked his lips. “Now can I fuck them up?”
“No,” I managed to say through clenched teeth.
“Where you going, Brewer?” Hank called. “We just want to chat.”
I turned back to face them. “Then talk. I don’t give a damn what Shannon tells you. And I don’t give a damn how you guys get your jollies. Don’t you have work to do? Maybe the reason your ranch is going to shit and the property is falling apart is because you’re too busy harassing your neighbors and too lazy to do your fucking jobs.”
“There he is.” Elias snickered, nudging his brother in the ribs with his elbows. “We were starting to worry the old Wyatt had gone and left us high and dry. But this is more like it. This is the spirit we’re used to seeing.”
“What the hell does Shannon see in this jackass?” Dodge muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
Boone leaned forward to peer around me at Dodge. “He’s probably got a big dick. It’s the only thing I can think of. And no offense, Wyatt, but Shannon was always shallow like that.”
“I’d believe it,” I said. “He has no other redeeming qualities.”
“Besides the massive inheritance,” Dodge said.
“Right, besides that,” I said.
Elias rocked back on his heels and nodded at us. “We ain’t going nowhere until this pretty flower of yours shows her face.”
Chapter 12
Piper
The cool shower washing over my hot skin soothed away the aches and pains of the long, labor-filled day I’d worked with Wyatt, Boone, and Dodge. We’d managed to get everything done that Wyatt had planned for us, and an hour and a half earlier than expected, too.
I was filled with a sense of accomplishment and pride that I’d never felt before. Working in the restaurant had been satisfying when we used to be busy. When my days were filled with helping a hundred or so customers, rushing orders, bussing tables, pouring drinks, and being rewarded with tip money at the end of it all. But since the business had tapered off, that feeling of success had eluded me just like the customers had.
Here on the ranch, things were different. Things were like how they used to be. Only better.
I’d never worked so hard in my entire life. It hurt just lifting my hands over my head to massage my lavender-scented shampoo into my scalp. Bending down to shave my legs was a downright nightmare, and lathering myself with my loofah and body wash was a special form of torture that was almost unbeara
ble.
But I endured it, and when all was said and done and I was dry, I was full of excitement for the rest of the evening. Wyatt had hinted throughout the morning and afternoon that he had plans for us, but he hadn’t given me any real clues. Boone and Dodge were apparently in on the scoop because they waggled their eyebrows at me every time I started asking questions, and then they chuckled to themselves like they were all in on this special little secret that I was deliberately kept out of.
I would forgive them once the night was over, I was sure.
I attempted to hurry down the stairs, but my thighs and calves burned something fierce, so I was forced to take them one at a time. I made it to the first floor in one piece, cut across the living room, and stepped out onto the back porch into the warm, late-afternoon air.
It smelled fresh outside, like grass and dirt and trees. I shielded my eyes against the glare of the sun and gazed out across the property. My attention was drawn to the front gate where a big black pickup truck was parked. Standing about twenty feet up from the truck in the middle of the driveway were five men: Wyatt, Dodge, Boone, and two others I didn’t recognize. The owners of the truck, I assumed.
Perhaps they were neighbors or friends.
I made my way carefully down the porch steps and walked out across the drive. I’d changed into a knee-length, navy dress that I’d paired with nylons and the new cowboy boots Wyatt had given me. The outfit was cute, and it was even cuter once I threw on a denim vest and red scarf. I felt like a country girl, and I hoped Wyatt liked it.
I was fairly certain he would.
I made my way down the drive, my boots scuffing the dirt with every step I took, and when I was about fifty feet away, Wyatt glanced back at me over his shoulder. His mouth tightened into a firm line, and he did not return the smile I offered.
Maybe he couldn’t see it. Maybe he had bad eyes. I shook my head. No, it wasn’t that.
Something was up. He seemed unlike himself. He held himself with a much straighter posture. His shoulders were tense, and the longer I looked, the more details I picked out. Dodge and Boone were the same. They were tense. On guard.
