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I refuse to avert my eyes in this duel, and while he watches me, I have a chance to really see him, too. And boy, is he something else. One hundred percent cowboy, with broad shoulders, strong hands, and muscular thighs obvious right through his Wranglers. I bet his skin smells of earth and leather and tobacco and just like gasoline I know it’s not good for me to inhale him, but I want to.
I shake off the unexpected attraction when I remember I’m not in the most professional attire for this conversation. I straighten my spine, and since he’s not talking, I launch the speech I prepared for this moment. “It’s no secret you don’t like me…”
He crosses his arms. Tattoos flex, and his biceps stretch the fabric of his rolled-up sleeves. He’s prepared to listen, and I note he doesn’t correct me.
“… but I know we can share this place harmoniously. So it works for both of us…”At least until I figure out a way to make you move back in with your sister over on the private side.
His arms still crossed, he listens with firm lips and shifts to his other foot.
I try to impress upon him how serious I am. I know Dash doesn’t like people who aren’t from the Canyon. Hell, he doesn’t like anybody. The best thing I can do is to show him I’m not some freeloader. “You didn’t want to hire a stable manager…”
“That’s because we don’t need one, Sunshine.” His words are slow, deliberate, and the timbre is deceptively comforting.
I glance down at my yellow towel.Sunshine.
Though I don’t see Dash around much, it’s true that the place runs smoothly for the most part. But I’ve found hooves unpicked and wet shavings left in the stalls more than once since being here. And once is enough.
I ignore his comment. “I worked seriously hard to earn this position. I come in earlier than anyone every day. I’ve made cost-reduction spreadsheets to show I’m serious about keeping the place lucrative. I even asked your sister if she could put on a workshop to teach more of the stable hands about horse care and how to spot common ailments.”
He swallows, and his throat bobs. I’ve never noticed how thick and muscular his neck is until now. He points his tongue into his cheek. A cheek that tumbles into a sharp, sexy jawline visible even under a five o’clock shadow. I really hope we can avoid each other because all these sexy details are derailing.
“I’ll do a good job, Dash.” My voice is as tight and determined as my fingers clutching the yellow towel. I try another smile. “Listen, it’s not ideal for me either to cohabitate here with you. This apartment was supposed to be sole use for the stable manager.”
His lips curve upward into a cynical half-smile. “Presumptuous.”
I slap my hands on my hips, but the towel falls slightly, and I yank it up along with my dignity. I amnotpresumptuous. I’m anything but. I work hard. I don’t expect handouts. I’ve never been given one in my life.
To Dash, most seasonal workers are golden spoon-fed kids with time and money to explore the Wild Wild West before they head back to their tame lives. That’s why he doesn’t think any of us deserve more than one word from him. When he is around at the yard, which isn’t often, the most he says is “Hoof” or “Sweep” or “Water.” Giving directives with a single word and the point of a finger, like we don’t all speak the same language.
Presumptuous.I didn’t know his vocabulary stretched this far, but his fancy word couldn’t be more wrong.
My life wasn’t tame before ranch work, and it never will be. But I’m not having a get-to-know-you conversation. My only aim now is to get us on tolerant terms, so I remind him the accommodation as compensation isn’t my idea, it was theirs.
“The job description and compensation are right there on the ranch website, and it clearly states a two-bedroom apartment is part of the payment for the stable manager. I only get one bedroom. I can deal with meeting halfway if you can.”
I glance around the luxurious open-plan space. Only the Hunters could afford such a palace to be above horse stalls. “This place is a thousand times more beautiful than I thought it would be. I never thought I’d live somewhere like this. So if I have to live here with you, I’ll make the most of it.” I appeal to him. “I’m a good roommate. I’m not messy. I’ll be out working a lot. I’m sure we’re both grown up enough to be civil.”
His eyes narrow, then open again, and his normal blank stare is gone as a flurry of thoughts flash behind his green gaze. My optimism gets the best of me because I think he’s about to be reasonable.
He’s not. He turns on his heel and starts packing up my suitcase. “You can’t stay here, Molly. I’ll figure it out, but you are not staying in this apartment.”
“Colt said…”
He shoves bras and panties and all sorts of things he shouldn’t have in his hands back into the overstuffed space and closes the lid. “I’ll deal with Colt… we’ll find you somewhere to live…”
“Dash! Stop.”
He stops but doesn’t look up.
“I need to get dressed.” This isn’t going well. I have to do something.
The cowboy wipes his hands on his dusty jeans. He nods down at the suitcase, like he’s settled a score with it. This man is a tough nut to crack, but his posture is less stiff and assured than before, and I wonder if there’s still a sliver of hope.
How can I convince him not to go running to Colt? The Hunters are inseparable, and blood is thicker than water.I won’t stand a chance…
Dash keeps his gaze in the distance, past me, as he heads for the door, and his cool draft wafts over my arm.
Just when he’s halfway out the door, broad back and shoulders to me, a lightbulb goes on. My Hail Mary.
