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“I can’t live anywhere else. The reason the stable manager stays here is to monitor things as many hours of the day as possible. Do you really want me living away from the horses?”
He extends an arm up the doorjamb as if he’s bracing himself. I stay focused on my argument, but his muscular ass fills my peripheral vision. He pauses, and I give him time to think about my words. He might not love people, but his affection and passion for the horses is like watching the sun rise. It’s the most natural thing in the world and yet somehow awe-inspiring.
His ribcage widens, he breathes in deeply, and once he lets it out, he faces me. He takes slow steps into the room, leans against the wall, and props the heel of one boot up on it. In other conditions, I’d melt at this image. Between the undone buttons of his shirt, his pecs create a deep line that plunges down the middle of a dewy bronze chest. Even though it’s around quarter past five in the morning, his skin bears the sheen of a cowboy just home from a day’s work. Knee bent, thumbs hooked through two belt loops, his thigh stretches a pair of well-ridden jeans, and not a single man around here rivals this view.
I shake the attraction that has no place in my well-laid plan and reach back to the contract agreement. “We both know mistakes are being made at the stables. An extra set of eyes will keep the horses healthy. And living here is a necessary part of the package.”
He flares his nostrils. “You know what else is part of the package? Me being your boss.”
I swallow hard. He lets me sweat. Is he going to tell me Colt had no right hiring me? Is he going to tell me to get some damn clothes on and do as I’m told?
“Let’s lay down some ground rules.”
Ground rules?
“One, never go in my bedroom.”
Oh my God, am I staying?I shake my head. “I would never…”
“Two. No questions.”
“What do you mean, no questions?” I tilt my head.
He deadpans. “No questions about anything personal. You ask me about the horses, the stables, the mountain trails, suppliers and contacts… fine. This is a professional arrangement. We’ll keep it that way.” He pushes off the wall, preparing to leave. “I’m not your friend.”
I don’t need to be his friend, but my stomach drops anyway.
He heads through the door but leans back into it, throwing his voice over his shoulder. “You might want to buy some earplugs.”
I try to lighten the mood, because there definitely is one. “Do you snore? The walls seem pretty thick.”
He doesn’t face me. “My alarm is loud, and I get up early.”
“It’s okay. I do, too.”
He tosses me a look over his shoulder. “You don’t get up this early.”
ChapterTwo
DASH
I’m trying hard notto wish I was the water trapped in the terrycloth hourglass before me. It was bad enough when I found her suitcase here this morning. Worse when she came around the corner, dripping wet and curvy as a classic pinup girl, making me temporarily forget I don’t want her here.
Molly. Colt went and hired her behind my back. I knew he had his eye on her for manager since about two weeks after she moved here. He said so months ago when we were drinking at Sly’s. He said she had potential.
She came to me, a couple of months ago in May, asking for the job. I threw her request to the side, and now… I’m fucked. Clearly. Because instead of swatting aside her request to stay here in the apartment, I used most of my energy keeping my jaw off the floor. I’d never noticed the way Molly looked before. Hell, I don’t know what most of the ranch hands look like, but I’m pretty sure after seeing her luscious, glistening skin, even passing her from a distance all I’ll think about is the lush crevasse between her breasts I know are… well…
“How early do you get up?” she asks, almost cute, as if she can handle my schedule.
“That’s a question…” Despite my habit to get the hell away from people as fast as possible, I find my gaze lingering again on those soft, creamy mounds pushing out of her yellow towel.
Only now that I’m staring at the voluptuous skin pouring out of her scanty attire is my head coming to. A twang of guilt runs through me, high-pitched, like nails on a chalkboard. I should have let her at least get properly dressed before we hashed this out. But I hate surprises, and this was one of the worst kind. Still, it isn’t right, her defending her side in a flimsy towel.
People describe me in many ways. Broody. Grumpy. Melancholy. I see it differently. I just like to be alone. But the one quality the general public and I agree on is that I’m a gentleman. Finding Molly here in my apartment has me compromising my values. I put my hat back on to hide both the view of her curves and my eyes from hers. I nod a farewell with my gaze on the floor and take myself out of her bedroom.
I need out of here.
I have two more horses to check on before I can find Colt in his office and try like hell to get myself out of this.
