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I arched a brow his way. “Is that what you’re doing? Catering to my needs?”
And I’d be damned if that crooked smile didn’t blossom into one more sensual and dangerous. “Well no, not exactly. I suppose I’m helping you out in the food department but more than anything I was just making a joke to drive my point and make you feel better about me working over here while you’ve got your feet up.” He winked and turned away from me, heading to the refrigerator. “And to be honest I don’t know much about what women want these days. It’s been a while since I’ve had one to cater to.”
Well that’s a plot twist. How could a man this fine, who lives like this and cooks, be single? Or maybe he’s not single and just chooses not to cater to the women he’s dealing with outside of the bedroom.
Nope not this guy. He’s not the type. He’s all in when he sets his sights on a woman. She gets the VIP catering treatment. I had no idea how I knew that, but I did. I felt this about him.
“Then let me share that women don’t like to be teased about having their feet kicked up, when in fact they don’t…” I pointed to the floor. “Mine are firmly planted on your beautiful hardwoods…” I lifted my eyes back to him, watching as he headed my way with a large wooden bowl. “Especially when that woman offered to help out and was forced to sit and do nothing.”
He placed the bowl in the center of the table and lowered his eyes while hovering, with all his cowboy sexiness crowding my space. “I appreciate the heads up then. You keep on giving advice about how to handle you and I’ll keep on taking notes to make sure I get it right.”
No sooner than he delivered that very confusing statement, my cheeks warmed but he missed it because he turned away to get the rest of our dinner, giving me time to process. Was Wilde flirting or was this just good ol’ Southern charm? There was no way this man was being this forward. He was simply doing the cowboy thing. They were charming and flirty and engaging, right? And I didn’t know if he was single, so I asked.
“A while huh? I take it that means you’re single?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“Can we not do the ma’am thing?” I cringed and he chuckled, removing two oblong, foil-covered items from the oven. I assumed baked potatoes.
“Sorry, just how my mama raised me. No offense and I’ll work on it if it bothers you, Boston.” I smiled at the nickname he’d given me. “And I’m very single. Been that way for a few years now.”
“Why?” I blurted out. When he turned to head my way with the foiled items plated next to the steaks I wanted to die a slow death.
“Well you blurted that out like it’s a surprise to you. I guess I should feel something for that.” He smiled, hovering in my personal space again after he placed my dinner in front of me.
“It is sort of surprising. You’re not an eye sore and you can cook.” I paused and grinned. “At least I think you can. Jury’s still out until I sample the meal.” I shrugged. “Seems like you’re a decent catch.”
His smile expanded again. “I would say I am but I’m biased.”
“Then why are you single?”
“Ranch life is hard. It takes up a lot of my time with it just being me and the handful of people I employ to help out. Mostly they handle the tours and a few odd jobs. The bulk of running this place falls on me and most women don’t find this lifestyle very glamorous.”
“What about your family?”
“My parents moved to Texas about six years ago to look after my grandparents' cattle ranch. They were getting up in age and had some health issues. After my grandma passed, my parents decided to stay. They left the ranch to me and my brother.”
“Where is he?”
“Went pro with baseball. Strangest shit I’ve ever seen.”
He turned and headed back to the kitchen to grab utensils and napkins before gathering a pitcher of tea, two glasses. and returning to the table. He sat across from me, placing everything on the table. I reached for what I needed and filled both glasses.
“How is that strange?”
“He never played a day in his life before his freshman year of college. Walked on as a dare from his roommate and turned out Garrett, that’s my brother, was pretty damn good at swinging a bat. Better than good. After he learned the basics, which they were eager to teach once discovering his natural talent, the athletic department granted a scholarship. My brother signed his first contract with the majors two years ago.”
“Oh wow, I see your point now. So that left you here to run the ranch on your own?”
“Pretty much, but I don’t mind. I love it here even if this life doesn’t make me a woman magnet. I can’t see living any other way.”
“You have help while I’m here.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s the least I can do since you’re graciously allowing me to crash in one of your rooms for the week.”
He rested his arms on the table and stared at me with that sexy crooked smile of his. “You don’t have to work for your stay, Boston. I’m pretty sure allowing you to do so is going to put me on Mel’s shit list.”
