“Whew. That’s better. Must have swallowed a dust cloud.” Breathing a sigh of relief, I settled in the worn seat, listening to the playful banter that went back and forth between the cousins. A few minutes later, the headlights of the truck illuminated a small wood cabin that had a long porch running along the front of it.
“Cute. Is this the women’s bunkhouse? It’s smaller than I pictured. How many other people are staying here?”
Colton shot me a look. “Just you. Females don’t last too long on the ranch—unless they are married into the family, which hasn’t happened for the younger generation yet seeing as me and my bros are all single,” Colton chuckled. “Ted’s even the first one of the cousins to tie the knot. Speaking of, how is that Kaley? She sure is a sweet girl.”
The look of pure love came over Ted. “She’s good. Real good. Been busy with wedding preparations.”
“That’s nice. Can’t wait for the big day. We are going to throw down to some good old-fashioned country line dancing. Will the DJ in that fancy ballroom have any western tunes?”
“I’ll put in a special request.” Ted punched Colton playfully on the arm.
In a low whisper, Colton said, “There is going to be beer there? Right?”
I gasped. “You drink?”
“I’ve been known to imbibe from time to time,” Colton replied with a naughty wink.
“What about Brody?” I asked.
“He’s only concerned by his ranch. He knows I drink sometimes—just not here. Brody understands we are adults and get to make our own choices.”
A question burned in my mind since Colton told me I’d be the only on staying in the women’s bunk. “Why don’t the female employees last on the ranch?” I asked, terrified of the answer. Was it true? Did Brody punish his female employees?
“Just a harder life out here. The nearest Target is two hours away, not to stereotype or nothing, but you ladies sure seem to enjoy your shopping. Heck, our closest grocery store is a solid forty-five-minute trek. Our last girl—sorry—woman, lasted six months then went about plum crazy when she realized that Amazon Prime two-day shipping takes two weeks to get to us.”
I gulped. Save for my denim fetish, I wasn’t a huge shopper. After rent and groceries, most of my paycheck went to Rag & Bone new arrivals, then Freddy’s. But still—three quarters of an hour to a grocery store? That was insane. Would I, the lone female, be able to make it out here at CLAS? Doubt crept into my mind.
The bunkhouse was now looking very large, looming over the truck. Would I even be safe in there at night by myself? The once charming night sky now seemed ominous, the sound of nothing but crickets like the background music in the badly acted murder movies I loved back in high school.
Ted threw an arm over my shoulder. “Let’s check it out, G. I won’t leave until you’re settled in.” Praying the batteries had hurried up and died in the vibrator, I said, “Let’s grab my stuff later—I want to check out the bunkhouse.”
Climbing out of the truck, I was relieved the quiet hum was no longer audible.
We walked up the stairs to get to the front door of the cabin. Colton opened the door, flicking the light switch. A soft glow shone in the cabin.
“Home, sweet home,” he grinned.
Stepping over the threshold, I took in the little bunkhouse. It was much cozier than I imagined. Two sets of pine bunk beds lined the walls, empty save for their mattresses—I was glad I had brought my bedding. A tall, blue antique-looking dresser stood between them. There was a small sitting area with a reading light, rag rug, and two armchairs, their buttery leather faded to an orangey cream color. A little desk and chair were tucked behind them.
A mini fridge sat in the corner of the room. I could just make out the small print on the laminated sheet taped to the fridge, Please remember we are an alcohol-free establishment.
Crap.
The liquor bottles I had shoved in the tampon box weighed heavy on my mind. I would hide them tomorrow. Even though I was excelling at sobriety, I liked knowing I had my stash—just in case. What if I needed one little nip at some point in the Wild West adventure? It was as if there was one of those miniature red devils sitting on my shoulder from in a kid’s cartoon, whispering into my ear, “Keep them, you might need them.”
Ted’s voice made me forget about the bottles. “What do you think, ladybug? Can you make this work for a year?”
Nodding, I said, “I think I can.” Like the little engine that could. I think I can, I think I can. Maybe if I said it enough times, I would convince myself that it was true. But seeing as I was homeless and incomeless without the ranch gig, it would have to be true. There were currently no alternatives. And who needed girl talk anyway? I had managed to single-handedly destroy my one female friendship that meant the most to me. All over a stupid boy.
Determination steeled my nerves. I could do this. And I would do this, damn it. And without Ted hanging around babying me.
“You know what, Ted? I think I’m ready to have some time to settle in. If we could just bring my stuff up to the porch, I’ll get it all in and unpacked tonight. I’d love some time to hang out and get used to the bunkhouse before roundup day tomorrow. And with our late start, you really need to get going if you’re still going to be home by lunch.”
His brow shot up. “You sure, G?”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
Giving me a long look, Ted finally nodded his head in consent. “Then that’s what we will do.”
It only took one trip between the three of us to get my belongings onto the porch.
“So, this is where we say goodbye, I reckon,” Ted said, stealing Colton’s cowboy slang.
“I reckon so, partner,” I replied in my best southern twang.
Ted wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. “I love you, kiddo. Kaley and I are going to miss you something crazy.”
“I love you too, Ted. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me. Not just now, but…”
“I’d do it all again.” He pulled away, giving me a final nod, and headed toward the truck.
Colton was down in the truck; I sensed he was giving Ted and me space to say our goodbyes. I gave him a wave and shouted, “Thanks for the ride!” over Ted’s departing shoulders. Ted hopped in. The headlights of the truck flashed twice. Then they were gone. And I was alone.
I sat down on the rocking chair on the front porch. I had never been in such a vast amount of open space. It was both thrilling… and terrifying.
Chapter Three
Rocking back and forth in the warm summer night, I listened to the crickets, and a strange new noise I assumed were cicadas. The creaking and croaking no longer sounded ominous, but melodious. Moths fluttered agitatedly around the porch light. I was curious to see how dark it would be without any light at all, but also too scared to flick the switch that would take away the soft yellow glow and leave me in utter darkness, save for the white, waxing moon.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of headlights and the sound of a car engine. Was Ted coming back for me? Had I left something in the bed of the truck? I took inventory of my belongings. Nope. All my earthly treasures were right there beside me.
The truck that arrived was bigger than the one Colton drove. And red.
Boss Man?
I stood, my stomach tied in knots. How much had Ted told his cousin about me? Would he see my wimpy biceps and send me home? Could he smell the city girl on me and decide I wasn’t fit for the job? But the biggest question of all…
Did he really look like Luke Bryan?
The truck pulled to a stop. The headlights cut off. The soft glow from the porch shone as the shiny red door of the truck swung open.
And there stood a dead ringer for the famous country western star.
Standing at what looked like a healthy six two, with a lean muscular chest outlined under his tight, charcoal gray V-neck tee shirt. Dark denim jeans held up by a weathered leather belt, silver belt buckle gli
nting in the night.
And my God… that face. I got a better view of it as he tromped up the stairs. Tanned by the sun, crinkling lines appearing on either side of his deep brown eyes as he smiled the warmest smile I’d seen on a man. White teeth gleamed from behind his perfectly shaped lips, a shadow of stubble lining his chiseled jaw. The only differences between Brody Jenkins and Luke Bryan were Brody’s hair was a wavy golden color over Luke Bryan’s brunette locks, and Brody was slightly more handsome.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to greet you upon arrival. I’ve been readying the field for roundup day. Getting the corral panels in place with the guys.” He reached out, stretching a long, muscled arm toward me.
My heart fluttered in my chest as my palm connected with his. Goosebumps raising on my arms at his touch. “That’s okay.”
“I’m Brody. Pleasure to meet you, Georgia. Or do you prefer to be called G, as Ted calls you?” He had a slow way of talking and a low husky voice that made a lady’s panties melt right off her.
To which I eloquently stuttered my reply, “I’m… I’m Georgia. Ted calls me G… but no one else really does. You can call me Georgia, or G, whatever.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Gee Whatever,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “May I have my hand back?” It was only then that I realized my fingers were tightly wound around his hand as if I would never let go.
My cheeks were on fire as I released my grip on him. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry! I’m out of sorts. It must be all this fresh air going to my head. I’m used to breathing in smog.”
Brody laughed.
The cowboy gave the deepest, sexiest chuckle I had ever heard. And at my lame attempt of a joke, no less. The crinkles returned around his eyes, his white teeth positively gleaming under the porch light.
A small smile slowly stretched across my face.
“May I sit?” He gestured at the empty rocker next to mine.
“Of course.” I took a seat in my rocking chair, and he in his.
“Ted tells me this is your first time on a ranch. Do you have any questions for me about tomorrow?” As he rocked, a soft breeze carried a whiff of his masculine, piney scent to me.
Trying to sound professional, I opted for stretching the truth—I have no freaking idea what a roundup day is and I’m just hoping I don’t kill myself or someone else—and said, “I think I’m pretty set from my internship on the farm, but maybe you could give me a clearer picture of exactly what will be required of me.”
“I’d be happy to. All our calves were born sometime between March and April. Now that they’ve been around for two or three months, it’s time for what we call processing. Your main job tomorrow will be tagging and vaccinating. In addition to that, the bull calves that we aren’t raising to mate will be castrated—”
Fake professionalism aside, I blurted out, “Please tell me that’s not my job.”
Brody chuckled.
God, I loved that sound.
“Dr. Pat, the vet in town, he joins us on roundup day and does the dirty deed. You’re off the hook.”
“Awesome.”
“When you have the calves with you for tagging and shots, you need to check each one carefully. Look for signs of sores, broken bones, or possible pneumonia.”
“That’s pretty straightforward. I took care of that on the farm for Maggie. Roundup day sounds similar—just a lot bigger operation, here.”
“It is a huge undertaking. You’ll be more than ready to see your bed at the end of the night. Speaking of bed, let’s get you settled in. Five a.m. is going to come quick.” His eyes went to my belongings by the door that I hadn’t bothered to take in yet. “Can I help you with these?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he stood, strode over to the pile, and picked up my duffle.
“Oh, no—I can get that.” I lunged over to where he stood, terrified the Jackrabbit 2000 would begin to hum again.
Picking the bag up, he threw it over his shoulder. “You’ll get used to chivalry here on the ranch. A man carrying heavy objects for a woman is just another part of country life.” He flashed me a grin, one deep heart-breaking dimple recessing in his left cheek. “Like you’ll get used to our fresh air.”
He gave the end of my long ponytail a teasing tug, sending delicious shivers through me.
My heart pooled into a puddle my chest.
I tittered a nervous laugh, running my hand down the ponytail he had just touched. Holding my breath, I stood anxiously as he carried the bag into the room and over to the dresser for me.
Hustling over to where he stood, I panicked, ready to have the duffle—and my vibrator—back in my sole possession. In my haste, as Brody was placing the duffle on the dresser top, I slammed into him, throwing the bag off balance.
I watched in slow motion as the duffle slipped off the high dresser and came crashing to the floor, two boxes of ‘lavender scented for your pleasure super plus maxi pads with wings’ and one box of ‘sporty no leak’ tampons came tumbling from the open broken zippered top of the bag.
There was a clank, clank, clank and a roll.
To my horror, a single bottle of malt whisky escaped the tampon box, stopping at the steel-covered toe of Brody’s cowboy boot.
My breath caught in my throat. I jumped away from him as if he were a rattlesnake. Silence pulsed through the room and it was as if time was standing still as I watched in horror as Brody bent over to retrieve the escaped liquor. His long fingers wrapped around the bottle, disgust covering his face. He stood slowly, his eyes burning into mine.
“Liquor? You snuck liquor onto my ranch, little girl?” The low husky voice that sounded so sexy a minute ago now sent chills down my spine.
Hopping back another foot from the huge, looming, and livid cowboy, I said, “I can explain.”
Holding the bottle out toward me, he said, “How on Earth can you explain this? Huh? Someone sneak it into your bag when you weren’t looking?”
“No. I’m done with that stuff. I promise. That was one of the reasons I wanted to come out here in the first place. A clean start with no bars, no booze. I swear.”
I cringed as he bent over, picking up my box of tampons. His eyes locked on mine. Shaking the box, the sound of glass on glass filled the air. He peered inside. “Is this it? Or is there more—in here?” Brody nudged the fallen duffle bag with the tip of his other boot.
“That’s it. I promise. I was packing up my nightstand to come here. They were in the back of the drawer—I had honestly forgotten about them. My roommate was coming in to say goodbye to me and I didn’t want her to see them. I threw them in there to hide them from her—then forgot about them until right now. I’m done with that stuff, I promise. I was planning on pouring them out as soon I brought my bags in,” I lied.
He raised his brow at me, his jawline set, furious. Picking up the duffle, he tossed it unceremoniously onto the bed. “Prove it.”
“What?”
“Empty the bag in front of me. Now.”
A ball of ice formed in my stomach. “Are you serious?”
One look at his face had me wishing I hadn’t asked the question. “Okay, okay,” I said, hurrying over to the bed. Surely, I could remove the clothes and feminine products without him getting a glimpse of the zippered pocket that held—oh, my God, I couldn’t even think about it.
Stacking the rest of the humiliating boxes of feminine products on one end of the bed, I started taking out the jumble of dirty clothing that had tumbled around in the bag. I held the very edge of the emptied bag open. “See? Empty as can be. No more bad stuff in there.”
He was over to the bed in two long strides. Poking his hand into the bag, he felt around until he found the zippered pocket. He looked at me, anger flashing in his eyes. “Not empty yet, is it? You have a problem telling the truth, don’t you, G?” The tone he used to spit Ted’s nickname for me made it sound like an insult. He was pissed, and not just at me. At Ted for recommending me.
Fury and shame rose in me,
the heat crawling up my neck and into my face. “I’m not lying,” I whispered angrily.
“Then open the pocket of this bag.”
My gaze dropped from his. Defeated, I whispered, “I can’t.”
His voice was deathly quiet. “What did you bring on my ranch? Drugs?”
I remained silent, unable to look at him. I was almost wishing it was drugs in that bag—the reality of what he might find was worse. There was a pregnant pause. The tension between the two of us tightened like a rope being tugged at two ends. Finally, he made his decision. His long, deft fingers tugged at the zipper, his hand reaching into the pocket and pulled out…
I couldn’t look. I had to look.
In his hand was the pink and purple pearlescent, full-sized Jackrabbit 2000. Thank God I had cleaned it after its last use, was the first thought that popped into my mind. The second being, I’m going to die, right here, right now.
I buried my hands in my face, a long groan making its way up from the very core of my being. Never had I ever been so embarrassed in my life.
I couldn’t watch. When I heard the zipper closing back, I took a deep breath, willing myself to be brave enough to take my hands down from my face, and investigate his.
He was hiding a grin. Then, to my intense relief, like a perfect gentleman, he did not mention the ten-inch dildo he had just handled and instead said, “Well, what are we going to do with you, young lady?”
Young lady. Dildo forgotten, my feminist self wanted to slap my own face as I felt a whoosh in my panties at the term, coming from the full lips of the rugged cowboy.
“Keep me?” I asked, my voice tiny.
Hope welled in me as the smile he hid broke free.
Unfortunately, two seconds later his eyes clouded over, and it looked as if he was struggling with an internal battle.
“The rules of this ranch are simple. And were made clear to you.” His gaze dropped from mine. All hope left me as he quietly spoke, his voice tinged with disappointment. “You need to leave.”
His Ranch, His Rules Page 6