Dad walks in last, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. “All right boys, listen up. Sorrel will be your go-to person for the week but please don’t use and abuse my sweet daughter or there will be hell to pay.”
No one says a word back; all too intimidated by him. Dad is a rough-looking old cowboy who wears a permanent scowl. He has salt-and-pepper hair and tan, wrinkled skin from spending most of his life in the sun. He only ever wears cowboy-cut Wrangler jeans that are always starched and pearl-snap short sleeves in the summer. He doesn’t ever leave the house without his cowboy hat and a pocketknife strapped to his belt. He’s as cowboy as they come.
He turns on his boot and walks out of the cabin, the sound of his starched jeans swishing back and forth.
Oh Dad, I sigh.
“Damn he’s intense,” says the one who I think is Grady.
I laugh under my breath and look out the window over the kitchen sink to see Johnny wandering toward the barn. He starts striking up a conversation with one of the ranch hands, pointing to his chaps and making big hand gestures. Denton walks up behind me, looking out the window. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Johnny can kind of be a handful, but I’ll make sure I keep him in line.”
Before I can respond, Parker, the one with curly hair and a round face, calls out.
“Hey, Denton, this place is badass. Do we get to ride today?” He’s carrying two guitar cases and has four cowboy hats atop his head.
“Tomorrow,” I say before Denton can answer. “You’ll meet with me at five a.m. sharp to feed the horses and clean stalls. We’ll have breakfast at six a.m. and then we’ll be moving cattle after breakfast. You’ll need to prove you can handle a horse before I take you anywhere near our cows.”
Denton smirks. “Looking forward to it.”
Grady moans. “Manual labor at five a.m.—are you serious?”
I shoot him a sharp look and then aim it back at Denton.
“This isn’t a beach vacation, Reed. I know you rodeoed in college, but it’s different out here. Someone gets bucked off or trampled, they could get hurt badly or even worse, die. This is our way of life, and we respect it and the animals. It’s not a show for us.”
He raises his hands and leans back against the counter, crossing one leg over the other. “Hey, I’m not here to play anything. Just here to breathe for a while and get back to my roots.”
My brows knit in response. Denton moves his face closer to mine, just inches away.
Lowering his voice, he says, “And by the way, I really like it when you get sassy and call me by my last name.”
I can feel his warm breath on my neck, and goose bumps prickle my skin. He’s flirting with me, making it hard to focus. I turn away, my cheeks red. I push off the counter and walk away—unable to ignore the way he sends electricity down my spine.
It’s one week. I can get through it. Or maybe this entire week is going to be one big disaster.
“Just keep your boys in line,” I say flatly, ready to finish the tour.
I leading him to the master bedroom, stopping outside the door while he wanders in. I sigh impatiently, looking down at my watch. It’s already suppertime. Denton finally comes out of the master. He hasn’t stopped smiling, acting as if he belongs here.
“Well,” I say reluctantly, “Jo made enough food to feed a small army tonight. You guys better get some supper. Dinner is in the main house.”
Denton’s eyes light up. “Will you be at dinner?”
I bite the inside of my cheek before answering. “I’m not missing out on Jo’s cooking. You better get some before it’s gone.” I leave them to unpack and get settled and make my way to the main house.
My mind still can’t comprehend him just showing up here like this. I didn’t even give him my damn phone number, so how the hell did he find our ranch?
Sure, I guess anyone with half a brain could google my last name and the ranch would pop up first thing. But never in a million years did I imagine Denton Reed would be one of our guests. Sure as hell makes it harder to suppress the feelings I’ve been trying to bury since the other night, and now I’m forced to face them.
There’re too many emotions I need to face, and it all feels overwhelming. I don’t want to feel anything. I want to sink into the numbness of it all—I’m so fucking tired. Emotionally, mentally, in every damn way. I’m not ready to go down that road again. Not even for a smooth-talking country music star with sparkling green eyes and a voice—God that voice. Every time he talks to me, I feel a heat spread through my entire body. I’m like a damn Roman candle on the verge of shooting sparks in every direction.
I felt something similar to that in the beginning with Huck, but never as intense and it stopped pretty early on. Sex had become a chore with him, and eventually, his touch made mybody go rigid. I can’t imagine being with someone in that way again. My body might be feeling its own type of way toward Denton, but my mind isn't. It feels like my body is betraying me. I don’t know when—if ever—I’ll be ready to be with someone intimately again.
. . .
A spread of Jo’s delicious food lies across the long wooden table in the main house. Roast beef, mashed potatoes swimming in gravy, sweet corn, biscuits, and her famous peach cobbler already cooling on the counter. The smell alone is enough to make a grown man cry, and my mouth is watering.
