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“Just go over there, talk to her, and tap that shit, dude,” Charlie said, and I growled low.
“Don’t talk about her like that, Charlie.”
He held her hands up. “Sorry, man. No disrespect intended.”
“Just get back to work,” Jax muttered under his breath, and the brothers did just that.
It was best that way, because I found any disrespect toward Macey had me extremely territorial and possessive. I wanted to protect her, even from words.
I ran a hand over my mouth and looked over my shoulder to see Macey turning around to head back in the house.
Just then, the wind picked up, and the bottom of her dress moved around her legs almost violently. And then the fucking material flew up to her waist for a second before she righted it. But I’d seen those little white panties she wore, the way the material barely covered her luscious ass. I groaned, not even caring if the brothers heard me. Her ass had been so fucking plump, perfect and round. I wanted to sink my teeth into the flesh. I wanted to part it and run my tongue up the center.
I bet she tasted even sweeter than she looked.
God, she was fucking perfect.
My cock hardened, and I reached down to adjust myself. I glanced at Jax and Charlie, saw they were focused on the coop, but I also noticed their smirks. They’d heard my groan but were smart enough not to say anything.
I came to the resolution, just right then and there, that I would try my hardest to stay away from Macey and keep things professional, but a little voice in the back of my head laughed its ass off and whispered, We’ll see.
Chapter Six
Macey
Two weeks later
The last two weeks had flown by. I really only saw Dalton for meals and when he finally came in for the night to clean up and go to bed. He worked so hard, and he reminded me of my father in that sense. Covered in dirt and sweat, skin golden from working outside all day in the sun, hands calloused from the manual labor. I appreciated and respected what he did, and I found myself growing more attracted to him each day.
I found myself falling for him in more than just a physical sense.
I focused on the here and now. I was cleaning the living room, and although I did it daily, the truth was the wind brought in dust constantly through the screen door. But it was just too nice to keep everything shut in—that and I’d be sweltering in here like a furnace was on. But cleaning kept me busy, and the pride I felt when things were in their rightful place, when everything looked nice and organized, made me feel good.
I had two jobs to do, cook and clean. And I sure as hell was going to kick ass at them.
I picked up one of the few pictures he had and stared at it. I assumed it was a young Dalton and his parents. His mother held him in her arms, a smile on her face. Over the last couple weeks, we talked here and there about personal things, conversing about our families. I knew his parents were gone, that he had no one else to take over the ranch when he retired. I’d seen the disappointment in his face after he said that, but he’d quickly hidden it, masking his feelings.
I’d come to realize that Dalton didn’t like to show what he perceived as weakness. I didn’t know if that was man thing, a rancher personality, or maybe it was just all Dalton.
I gave it a good wipe-down with my rag and set it back where I found it on the fireplace mantle. Once all the glass was cleaned, I did the vacuuming, fluffed the couch pillows, wiped off the leather sofas, and gave the room a good onceover to make sure I didn’t forget anything.
It was going on lunchtime, and although I always made a huge breakfast spread for Dalton and the brothers, I knew they were always famished come the next meal.
I headed to the room I now called my own and started putting away the load of laundry I’d gotten done folding and ironing this morning. I’d already done it with Dalton’s clothes, and although it wasn’t a requirement he’d asked of me in this position, I didn’t mind helping out any way I could. He helped me out so much already, even if he’d never fully understand that.
Once done, I made my way into the kitchen to start lunch. Most days, it was something cold and easy, quick things they could eat, because that’s what they said they preferred. It was only breakfast that I went overboard, because I knew how much energy they’d need. Then dinner, I made sure to have a really good meal prepared for Dalton. By then, Jax and Charlie were gone, and it was just us. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t really look forward to our dinners, when we’d just sit and talk, when things were comfortable and relaxed.
