His Firecracker (A Her Choice Story)

by Megan McCoy

  Grabbing her bible, she sat down at the counter and poised her pen as she stared him down. “Please, tell me how and what I need to know,” trying not to let her voice drip sarcasm. All she wanted to do was to be in her little room, alone. She’d been friendly and happy for too many days now, and it was starting to wear on her.

  “I saw the little tantrum you threw earlier,” he said, mildly, but going straight for the major issue.

  “I didn’t throw a tantrum,” she protested and looked at him as if he had two heads. Wracking her brain, she thought back. Yeah, she’d been upset when Sue dropped the beans, and when Taylor didn’t show up. But that was just normal kitchen things.

  “You made three people cry tonight,” he told her. “Including the boss’s fiancée, and he’s pissed.”

  Who? She wondered. Oh, crap. Must have been Matt’s…. “I didn’t know who she was, the little bit of a thing who came in before service?”

  “Yes and you yelled at her and made her cry,” Cole repeated.

  “How did I make her cry? I just said I was busy,” she protested. Cole took a step forward and she suddenly felt very guilty.

  “You didn’t just say you were busy, you said get out, very rudely, after she asked if she could help,” he said and took another step.

  Rayne wanted to get up and back away, but she was sitting down and for some reason, standing up seemed like the wrong thing to do. So, she stayed sitting, but straightened her shoulders and gave him her best chef glare. Why did this man intimidate her? No. No man did.

  Jumping up, she put the stool between him and her and put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t mean to make her cry. I was working.” Damn. She needed this job. Well, she wanted this job. It paid good and would help her toward her goal. She’d slipped back into her old persona and screwed up badly. Already. She’d thought she’d made such good progress.

  Taking a deep breath, she counted to three. “So are you here to fire me?”

  “Sort of,” he said, grinning at her and she couldn’t decide if he was being disarming or threatening. Why did this man fluster her like no other?

  “What does that mean?”

  He took two steps toward her and lifted her chin with his hand so she stared him straight in the eye. “It means, if you ever act like that again, I’m going to light a fire in your butt. Turn you over my knee and blister you till you cry like a baby. Do you understand me?”

  Gasping she stepped back. “You can’t say that to me… it's illegal!”

  He shrugged. “Sue me. Just know I mean it. I’m not your boss, this has nothing to do with the Lyon Ranch. This is me, Cole, and you, Rayne, and knowing what it is you need.”

  Trembling, she stepped back from him. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t... don’t... need a spanking. What are you thinking? Are you a bully or a pervert?”

  He stepped closer again, not boxing her in but letting her know and feel his utterly male presence. “It's called a dominant, sweetheart, and that is what you will learn.”

  “What?” Her mind swirled. Hell, she read books, even ones with a little bit of kink to them. Everyone did. She just knew she didn’t want a spanking, but for some reason, she knew he would really do it. He’d meant it.

  “I know what a dominant is. I don’t need one. I take care of myself,” she croaked, trying not to whisper. What did this man do to her?

  “Yet, four days into the brand new job you uprooted your life for, you made the owner’s girl cry, and two of your kitchen staff, who have worked here for a long time, want to quit. Plus, I heard someone insulted the produce vendor yesterday and I had to smooth that over. Any idea who that was?”

  Shit. Chin and knees trembling, she looked him in the eye, “I am. Cole…” she started and then stopped. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

  Biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to make herself hurt, she glared at him. “I have to be the strong one. I have to be the one in charge. People need to respect me. I won’t be treated like a second-class citizen.”

  “No one thinks you are second class.” He looked at her as if he were astonished. “You are smart, accomplished, and damn gorgeous.”

  Okay, that pissed her off. Hauling back, she shoved him hard. “Don’t make fun of me.” Ducking under his arm, she ran out the kitchen door to her room, fighting back furious tears. Hitting her door, she damned herself for locking it earlier. Fumbling with her key, she felt his arms around her and stiffened. Oddly, she wasn’t afraid, just... she didn’t know. How could she think, why couldn’t she? What was wrong with her?

  Cole took the key from her trembling hand and unlocked the door.

  “I could do that,” she spat at him, still shaking with some undefinable nerves.

  “So could I,” he said, calmly, then walked inside and she followed him, almost numb. What was going on? Her body shook. Her mind was blank. She didn’t understand any of this. All she could feel and understand in this moment was him—his male essence, his maleness surrounding her very essence.

  Cole sat down, taking his alpha level down a notch. He looked at her and said, “Do you want to change? We have some talking to do. Go change if you want to.”

  She nodded, not able to say anything. What was with him? What was with her? She’d done nothing wrong. She grabbed her sweats and stepped into the bathroom, noticing her fingers trembling. Her heart raced and her breath came in jerks. Pulling off her greasy kitchen gear, she looked longingly at the shower, but decided now was not the time. Instead, she pulled on her dark green sweatpants and oversized t-shirt that she slept in. She left her bra on. She didn’t want to be that exposed around this man.

  Why had he said she was gorgeous? That was just mean. She knew what she looked like. She had a mirror. She wasn’t ugly, but no one had ever said she was pretty. She wasn’t a size two. She was strong and capable and didn’t have gorgeous blonde hair. She was too average and too... voluptuous to be pretty. She hated it when guys said she was. She knew they only wanted in her pants.

  And why was he complaining about the way she ran a kitchen? How she spoke to the cooks? He wasn’t her boss. He was a fill in, nothing more. It was her kitchen and she needed to take over the reins and let people know who ran the place, and it wasn’t him. Letting her hair down, she ran a quick brush through it, squared her shoulders and marched back out to confront her not a boss.

  He stood by the window, staring into the blackness. Looking at him she felt her already pounding heart pick up another beat. She really needed to work on her cardio. Silly heart, racing as if it had no sense. From his sturdy cowboy boots, up his long denim clad legs to his, oh God, now there was a perfect ass. She wanted to carve him in dough, her preferred art medium, then eat him up. Big wide leather belt, black Rose’s Ranch t-shirt tucked into it neatly. Dark hair that had a bit of curl meeting the top of his shirt. She bet that drove him crazy. Men didn’t like curly hair, she’d learned.

  “You decent?” he asked without turning around.

  Swallowing hard, she went on the offense. “I’m pissed,” she said.

  “Yeah, that’s what we need to talk about. How to properly express those pissed off emotions.” Turning around, he looked sternly at her. Rayne opened her mouth, but he held up his hand. “Young lady, do you want to keep this job?”

  Sinking down on the edge of one of the matching recliners, she shut her mouth, and nodded, mind racing. She’d left everything for this job. Gave up her other job, her apartment. It was what she had needed to do to meet her goal, but really, that was a short list of things to give up, she realized. She’d hoped to be here for months, not days. What had she done? Could she at least ask that? Was he going to let her talk or just fire her? Did he even have the power to do that? Why would her mind not calm down?

  This man, this situation, unnerved her.

  Okay. Be a grownup, Rayne, she told herself. Accept your scolding and vow to do better.

  “Yes, I’d like to keep this job. Please help me do
that?” Okay, that was good. Strong definitive statement, then a plea for help to get him on her side. She’d taken psychology. She could get through this conversation.

  He gave her a half smile. “Oh, I can help you. The key is, do you want to be helped? What did you do wrong?”

  She stared at him, mesmerized by his dark eyes, and blinked back tears of frustration. She hated that she cried when she was mad or frustrated. If she snapped at someone, it was just so she didn’t cry in the kitchen. There was no crying in the kitchen. Unless you cut yourself, and even then it was iffy.

  “I let my temper get the best of me?” She said in a small voice.

  “How did that manifest itself?” He demanded.

  Damn the man.

  “I let my mouth run before engaging my brain?” Carefully, she ended each sentence as if she were asking, disarming him, she hoped.

  “Are you asking me or telling me?” He said, as if he didn’t really care.

  Rayne was starting to get impatient with this conversation. It seemed to be going nowhere. “Just tell me what you want me to say,” she said, crossing her arms and sitting back in her chair, giving him her best boss lady look.

  He didn’t seem impressed.

  Rayne tried again. “I know I have a short temper sometimes. I just want things to go smoothly in the kitchen. I need people to do their jobs. If they do that, there is no reason for me to be upset. I try very hard to stay calm. I’m really a nice person. I am!”

  “Then why did you make Liz cry?” He asked, calmly.

  Liz? Who the hell was Liz? Oh. Matt’s soon-to-be wife. Why did she keep forgetting her? The one she was making a cake for. For their wedding.

  “I didn’t know it was her…” she trailed off. Even she knew it was a horrible excuse.

  “Why should that matter? Who it was? The only reason it does, is because Matt came up wanting to fire you for it. We protect family. I talked him out of it, saying that you’d be down in the morning to apologize. You just better hope Liz accepts it,” Cole said, grimly.

  Rayne felt her facade start to crumble. No. She could not show weakness. Straightening her shoulders again, she stood up. “Why should I say I’m sorry? I just asked her if she was qualified to be help. She wasn’t. I asked her to leave so I could work.” That. That was what happened.

  “You yelled at her and basically told her to get the hell out,” he reminded her.

  “Did not!” Rayne crossed her arms again and wanted to stomp her foot and stick out her tongue at him. He infuriated her.

  “Rayne, look at me,” he demanded.

  “I am looking at you! You’re the only thing in the room!”

  “Lower your voice,” he said.

  “I won’t!”

  “Remember that bottom blistering I told you I’d do? I’m ready, anytime you are. Or you can lower your voice, calm down, and listen to what I’m telling you.” He didn’t move. His voice was low and quiet.

  She believed every word he said, and sat down again. “Would you really?” Her mind flashed to one of her favorite Elvis movies where he told the spoiled little rich girl that she deserved a spanking. She’d told him maybe so, but no one ever cared enough about her to give her one. Rayne felt the same way. Not that she wanted a spanking. No way, no how.

  She shut her mouth, then opened it again. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s a little better,” he conceded and she felt a flash of something that almost felt like pride. Weird.

  “Okay,” this was hard for her. Did he have any idea how much? “I do want this job. I lost it for a bit today, but really, it wasn’t all my fault. I had two people out, it was my fourth day, and…” her voice trailed off as he kept a level gave on her.

  Dropping her eyes, he said, “Try again.”

  Try what again? She just wanted to go to bed.

  “Apologize without trying to justify it,” he said.

  What did that even mean? Okay, she was smart. She had this. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.” She looked at him for approval.

  “That was good, but what else?”

  The man was beyond maddening. “I don’t know,” she whispered. See how she could keep her voice low.

  “You say something about how you will change now,” he prompted.

  “Change?” she asked, weakly. What was going on?

  “Yes, you say something about how you won’t do it again, that you will react differently.”

  Rayne looked at him. Was this really happening? He seemed to be a very patient man, which was very infuriating. She could snap back with the best of them. She wasn’t used to rational.

  But she was an adult. She kept her voice low and calm, and said, “I’m sorry. I was wrong and shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I will be, um, be... I give up!” She stood up again, and he motioned her back to her seat.

  Why was she obeying hand signals like a dog? She sat.

  “You will behave better in the future and watch your tone of voice,” he said. “Your turn.”

  Rayne felt herself blush fifty shades of red. “I’m sorry. I was wrong and will regulate my tone and attitude in the future.”

  “Much better,” he said in an approving tone that made her want to run over and let him pet her head. Shaking it, she frowned. She was no one’s pet.

  He stood up. “You might want to spend a little time standing in the corner, staring at the wall, thinking about what you did. I’ll be here by eight in the morning to walk you over to meet Liz and apologize. Do you understand?”

  Stand in the corner? What the everlasting hell? But she nodded. Maybe he would leave now.

  “I’ll be working with you all day tomorrow and one outburst like today and we’re going to have an old-fashioned trip to the woodshed. Do you understand that?”

  Rayne opened her mouth. Then shut it and nodded.

  “Good.” He took two steps toward her and then leaned down and very gently kissed her. Her arms were still folded defensively, but her silly lips opened and just kissed him back. She was a chef. She made delicious for a living, but nothing had ever tasted as good as did. This. This was all she wanted.

  “I knew you’d taste like that,” he said, kissing her once more, then turned and headed to the door. “Fifteen minutes of corner time, then go to bed. See you in the morning.”

  Rayne watched him leave and sat mesmerized for a full minute, before she reached up and wiped her mouth with her hand. How dare he kiss her? She looked around the room, then stood up and stalked to the door. She was not standing in the corner. How dare he suggest that? What did he think? That she was three? She’d stand in the shower but that was as close to a corner as she’d get. He dared. She would dare him!

  So why was she looking at the corners of her room?

  Chapter 6

  Okay, it was a chicken shit thing to do, but she did it anyway. Two minutes before eight, Rayne poured herself a shot of vodka and downed it. Her dad always called it Dutch courage. She had no idea why. His grandparents came from Scotland. He shouldn’t know anything about the Dutch except he was allergic to tulips and thought windmills were amazing. Shuddering as the alcohol hit the back of her throat, she swallowed convulsively and shuddered again. “Come on, baby, work your magic,” she said, waiting for the glow to hit. It had been months since she’d used any Dutch courage, so she hoped it worked fast.

  Truthfully, she felt so ashamed of herself and so embarrassed about being marched to do an apology she just wanted to sink into the floor. If she knew where Matt and Liz lived, she’d go there alone. She didn’t want Cole to witness her shame even though he was the one demanding it.

  Duh. This was the Lyon ranch. Everyone who worked here probably knew where Liz and Matt lived. She’d ask the first cowboy she saw. She’d go over before Cole showed up and just get it done. Then she’d go to work and put it behind her. Not think of it again. It would be two minutes out of her life. It needed done.

  Just to prove she was stupid, she took another half shot. Then opened
her door and slammed into Cole’s hard body. “Whoops,” he said, easily, catching her. “You okay?”

  “No.” her eyes and temper flared, but she tried to tamp them back down. She’d just taken an edge off, she wasn’t drunk. “I was going to find where Liz lived and tell her I’m sorry.”

  “I was walking you there, did you forget?” He asked, holding her by her shoulders and looking at her sharply.

  Vodka had no smell, she reminded herself. He couldn’t tell. “I decided I wasn’t a toddler and didn’t need either to stand in the corner or be walked to my punishment,” she told him and jerked away from him. Then whirled around and glared at him. “Spanking and corner time? Do I look like child?”

  “No, you look like a delectable, full grown woman. But you act like a child sometimes. If you act like a child, I’m going to treat you like a child. The next time I give you corner time, it will be with a bare, red hot bottom, and me staring right at it.” He said it like he was telling her he would bring her a cup of coffee. Rayne tripped on her foot, and he caught her.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get this done.”

  She didn’t like his hands on her. She missed his hands on her when he removed them. She didn’t want to think about anything right now, other than meeting Liz on better terms than she did yesterday.

  They walked in silence down the gravel path to a clump of gorgeous little cabins. Her heart twisted. She’d love to live in one of these. Be a member of a community. Right now, she had to concentrate on keeping her job by apologizing to her boss’ woman. Sighing, she wondered if she would ever be anyone’s woman. Probably not. No one could deal with her for very long. She had been told she was too much to handle, and honestly she could only fake it for a few days at a time, till she reverted to her true self. Her true self that no one liked much apparently. Didn’t matter. What mattered was supporting herself and making her kitchen the best it could be. Saving some money and moving on.

  “Here we are.” Cole stopped in front of a small, charming little cabin. There were rose bushes around either side, looking well tended and blooming still. The front porch had three rocking chairs, a small table in front of them, with a large citronella candle gracing it. It looked cozy and wonderful. She wanted a little house like this one day. Right now, though, she had to take a deep breath and do what needed done.