Sean set the bowl and whisk down on the counter and pulled open a drawer to reveal a mallet. “This is what you use,” he said, waving her over.
Christine hesitated. How was she going to get him to understand that this really was a bad idea?
He laughed, a soulful laugh. His eyes crinkled at the sides, and his lips parted showing perfectly straight teeth.
Was he laughing at her? She pushed away from the counter and made her way over to him. For some reason, his laughing bugged her. She knew she was a bad cook, but it wasn’t like he had experience with it.
She stood next to him and reached for the mallet. Even though every time she had ever tried to hang a picture, she ended up hitting her thumb more times than the nail, she wasn’t going to let this cowboy think she couldn’t hammer a steak.
“So, how does one do this?” she asked, waving it toward him.
Sean grabbed the package of meat and unwrapped it. He laid it down on the counter, covered it with wax paper, and motioned toward it. “You take the mallet and begin whacking it. You hit it until it’s flat.”
Christine stared at the steak and then the mallet. That sounded easy enough. She raised the mallet and brought it down, striking the steak. It mocked her as it bounced back. Okay, maybe this wasn’t as easy as she thought it was going to be.
Sean laughed again. Christine shot him her most menacing glare. “Why do you keep doing that?”
Sean pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “You act all tough, but if we were depending on your ability to hit meat, we’d starve.”
Christine attempted to hit the meat again only to end up with the same result. “I’m hitting it, but nothing is happening.”
Suddenly, the feeling of Sean’s arms around her stopped her in her tracks. She breathed in as he pressed against her back. He grabbed her hands and brought up the one that was holding the mallet.
“You need to hit it harder,” he said. His voice was breathy against her ear and sent shivers down her spine.
Did he notice what his close proximity was doing to her? Her mind was clouded, and her knees felt like Jell-O. She held onto the counter in front of her with all her strength. If he backed away now, she was pretty sure she’d collapse to the floor.
He raised the mallet and brought it down. The meat didn’t bounce back in a mocking jolt. Instead, with each swift swing, it began to flatten.
After a minute, Sean stopped and dropped her hands.
“Make sense?” he asked and then cleared his throat.
Christine just peered over at him. He’d moved over to the stove, where he got out a cast iron skillet and placed it on a burner. After lighting the burner and filling the pan with oil, he turned around.
Embarrassment flooded her skin as she turned back and began hitting the meat. Each time with more force. Finally, it was flattened uniformly, so Sean took it and began to bread it. While he fried it in the pan, Christine began working on the next one.
She hadn’t noticed that he’d come back until he spoke.
“So, how about you? Have you ever had any of those love-no-matter-what relationships?” He had his arms crossed and was leaning his hip against the counter.
Christine glanced over at him as she swung the mallet up. The playful expression on his face caused her to lose her focus for a minute. Just as she brought it down, she winced and yelped. She’d brought the mallet down on her finger.
Sean was to her side in a moment, grabbing her hand and looking at her injury. “You okay?” he asked as he inspected it.
Christine winced as the throbbing pain shot up her arm. But the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers was conflicting with the ache coming from her nail. “I think so,” she breathed out.
Sean motioned for her to follow him to the sink. He flipped on the faucet and stuck her hand underneath. The cool water shocked her system.
“Let me get you some ice,” he said as he walked over to the freezer and pulled open the door. After he put a few cubes in a bag, he turned off the water and motioned to the barstool she’d left earlier. “Why don’t you go have a seat and I’ll finish up.”
Grateful for the opportunity to get away from the meat and Sean’s close proximity, Christine nodded and did what he said.
Once she settled in, Sean started smacking the meat. In record time, the steak was flat and breaded and sizzling in the frying pan. While it cooked, Sean pulled out a pot and got it heating.
Christine spent the whole time just watching him. Trying to figure him out. He seemed so rough on the outside, but when it came to things that mattered, he was different.
From his reaction to her hitting her finger, to the care he showed his grandfather earlier, all of it intrigued her. Drew her in. Made her want to know more about this cowboy. And that scared her.
She swallowed as she dropped her gaze and focused on the ice cubes that were resting on her finger. It was time she got her head on straight—before she did something she’d regret. Something she just might not be able to come back from. Self-preservation was the smartest thing for her. And she needed to protect herself now, before it was too late.
Chapter Nine
Sean
Sean welcomed the silence that setting the table brought him. Christine had decided to focus on nursing her fingernail rather than paying attention to him. He was thankful for that. He wasn’t quite ready to digest what had happened earlier.
From wrapping his arms around her to show her how to pound the meat, to running her finger underneath the water—all of it had his senses going haywire.
It seemed prudent to put as much space between him and Christine as possible. Once the plates and silverware were set, he walked back into the kitchen where he removed the gravy from the stove.
“You ready to eat?” he asked, nodding toward Christine.
She looked up at him and for a moment, an expression passed over her face. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant. He wanted to ask but feared what she might say. So he brushed it off and smiled over at her.
“You’re in luck. My grandmother’s chicken fried steak is the best in the county.” He lifted the platter and gravy.
Christine slipped off of the stool and nodded. “I’m excited to try it.” She followed after him into the dining room.
Once the food was dished up, Sean made his way over to the stairs and took them two at a time. Pops normally took an afternoon nap. He always slept late, and Sean had to wake him up. He got to his grandparent’s bedroom and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he opened the door.
“Pops?”
There was a grunt from the direction of the bed. “Sean?”
“Yep. Dinner’s ready.”
There were a more few grunts followed by a few curse words. Finally, Pops emerged from the shadows. His hair stuck up on one side, and his face was bright red. “Thanks,” he said as he passed by Sean and headed down the stairs.
Sean nodded and followed after his grandfather.
When Pops walked into the dining room, he stopped to stare at Christine. “You’re still here?” he asked, taking a seat at the head of the table.
She was mid-drink so she just nodded. Once she’d swallowed and set her glass down, she turned to look at him. “Yeah. Kind of my job.”
Sean’s stomach twisted at her words. Which was ridiculous because he knew that was why she was here. It was her job and nothing else.
Pops grunted as he grabbed his fork and knife and started to dig in.
“Pops. Prayer,” Sean said.
His grandfather rolled his eyes and dropped his utensils. “It’s like your granny’s here again.”
Sean nodded. True, she’d been the stickler about saying grace, but ever since she passed, Sean made sure they said it. If what she’d lectured about heaven and hell were true, then he’d err on the side of caution and say the prayers.
Once grace was said, they started eating. Silence fell around them as the clinking of silverware against the dishes replaced any talk
ing.
When about half of Christine’s plate was gone, she placed her utensils down on the table and glanced around. “That was amazing.”
Sean was mid-bite so he simply nodded.
“I honestly don’t think I could eat another bite.”
Pops grunted. “You should. You’re what, a buck twenty?” He waved his fork in her direction.
Her cheeks hinted pink as she nodded.
Sean leaned over. “Don’t be embarrassed. Pops was an animal auctioneer. He got good at guessing weight.”
“It’s like a sixth sense,” Pops said as he put another piece of steak into his mouth. “So, are you staying here?”
Christine choked on the water she’d just drunk. Wiping her chin with her hand, she shook her head. “No. I’m not staying here. I’m at the Moose Falls motel.”
“That dump? No,” he said, shaking his head.
Sean leaned over. He wasn’t sure if he liked where this conversation was going. “Pops, it’s fine. The motel is nice now that Ava’s family took it over.”
Pops looked over at him and shook his head. “Why is she staying there? She should be here. Besides, it’s a lot of wasted time to have her driving a half hour into town and a half hour back.” He shook his head as he sawed off another piece of steak. “It’s settled. You’re staying here. Besides, we’re going to fatten you up.”
Sean almost feared her expression when he peered over at her. Thankfully, she looked a little uneasy but when she met his gaze, she gave him a small smile and a shrug. “I guess if he insists. Besides, I do have my luggage here.”
Sean’s heart picked up speed as he thought about Christine staying here. In his house. Sleeping in one of the beds. He cleared his throat as he pushed out all the images that had accumulated from those thoughts.
And why did she seem so cool about it all? Was it just him that was having all these confusing and distracting encounters with her? It must be.
“Perfect,” he said. If she was okay with it, then he’d be as well. “I’ll set up the guest bedroom for you.”
It almost seemed as if Christine’s cool demeanor faltered for a moment before a smile replaced her uneasy expression. “Great. I can’t wait.”
“Don’t get your excitement up. It’s not the Ritz,” he said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.
Christine shook her head. “I’m sure it will be lovely.”
Pops shrugged as he took a drink of water. “See it first and then make your decision.”
Christine raised her eyebrows.
Sean placed his fork and knife down. “Right now?”
“I’d love to get some sleep. I’m exhausted,” she said as she pushed away from the table.
Sean nodded and scooted out his chair. “Sounds good.” He tapped the table, drawing Pop’s attention over. “I’ll be right back.”
Pops waved him away. “I’ll be fine. You go.”
Sean glanced over at Christine who was pushing her chair in. He extended his arm, motioning for her to go ahead.
When they made their way out into the hall, Christine turned, bumping right into him. Out of instinct, he wrapped his arms around her to steady her. He tried to ignore how her hands rested on his chest. Did she feel his heart pounding? Did it give him away?
“Sorry,” she breathed as she raised her gaze to meet his.
He knew he should drop his arms. That he should back away.
Just give her the directions and get the heck out of here, he screamed in his mind. But no amount of cursing could get him to move. The feeling of her body pressed against his was sending electric jolts down his body. It was as if she fit in his arms. Like she was meant to be there.
“Sean,” she said, peering into his eyes.
He drew his focus back to her. “Yeah?”
“I think you can let me go now. I’m not going to fall down.”
As if that were the key to his release, Sean dropped his arms and took a step back. He ran his hands through his hair as red-hot embarrassment coursed through him. What an idiot he was. Hugging the auditor.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
Christine adjusted her shirt as she shook her head. “No problem. It was my fault really. I should’ve warned you that I was taking a detour.”
Thankful that she was focusing on herself, Sean looked around. “Yeah, what was that about?”
She waved toward the front door. “I was trying to grab my suitcase.”
Suddenly remembering that she’d left it there, Sean walked over and reached for the handle.
“Let me.”
“I can—” they said at the same time.
He peered down at her, hoping she would see the desperation in his gaze. He really needed a job right now. Something that would help him keep his mind off of what had just happened moments ago.
Christine held up her hands. “Perfect. Thanks.”
He shot her a smile and then nodded toward the staircase. “We’re going up.”
Christine followed. Once they got to the top of the stairs, Sean walked past his bedroom. He contemplated telling her that it was his but then thought against it. Did she really need to know where he slept?
“So which is your room?” her quiet voice asked from behind him.
Too late. It would be weird if he didn’t tell her now. When he glanced behind him, he saw that her cheeks had reddened.
“I mean, if there’s a fire or something and I need to save you.”
Sean laughed. “You? Save me? A buck twenty?” He shook his head. “It’s better if you just let me die. I would just weigh you down.”
Her lips parted. “I don’t think the government would feel the same way.” Then she dropped her voice and said, “And Parker would really have a reason to fire me.”
He quirked an eyebrow. Who was Parker?
She sighed. “He’s my boss. I didn’t say this to you but this is my last opportunity to prove my value to the government. If I’m not successful”—she motioned to her throat—“I get cut.”
“Cut?”
“Fired.”
Sean sucked in his breath. “Ouch,” he said as he stopped outside of the guest room and nodded toward the inside. He’d had no idea just what was at stake for her as well. Maybe he had been unfair with how he’d been treating her.
But she was here to challenge his ranch. He needed to remember that. No matter how clouded his mind was right now. She was the dragon. Plain and simple. So instead of standing there, feeling completely confused, he decided that it was best to finish up with the tour and get away from her.
“Bathroom’s down the hall. My room is the one we just passed. Pop’s is the door right there.” He leaned closer to her but then cursed himself for doing it. “If there’s a fire, do me a favor, save him first?” He peered into her gaze, taking note of the soft blues and flecks of gold.
Christine’s eyes widened as she nodded. “Okay,” she breathed.
He met her gaze one more time before he stepped away. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he called over his shoulder. “If you can handle it.”
He heard her scoff from behind him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He laughed as he paused at the top of the stairs. “It means that a rancher and an auditor are two very different things.”
She folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. “So you’re saying that I couldn’t handle being a rancher?”
He couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled in his chest. “I’m not saying it. It’s a fact.”
She narrowed her eyes. “We’ll just see about that.”
“Okay. You have to get up early, first,” he said as he made his way down the stairs. He could hear her protest but by the time he reached the foyer, the upstairs was silent. He could only assume that she’d gone into her room and shut the door.
When Sean made his way into the dining room, Pops was nowhere to be seen. He must have gone out for his ritual coffee on the porch. Something he and Gran used to do every day.<
br />
He stacked the dirty dishes on top of each other. Then he brought them into the kitchen, where he got started rinsing them. He welcomed the monotony that doing the dishes brought him. It helped clear his mind.
As he finished wiping down the counter, the phone rang. He set the towel down and walked over to the wall.
“Hello?” he asked.
“Sean?” His dad’s gravelly voice came from the other side of the call.
He sighed as he leaned against the counter. “What do you want, Dad?”
Silence filled the phone. Sean winced. He didn’t mean to come across as short. But right now, the last thing he needed was his father stepping in and confusing him even more.
“Sorry. Long day,” he said, hoping to backpedal.
His dad cleared his throat. “Is it the IRS auditor?”
Sean peered upstairs. Well, that was a conversation he most definitely didn’t want to have with his dad. “Something like that. The auditor. The ranch. Pops.”
“What’s wrong with your grandfather?”
“I found him holding Gran’s picture again.”
His father sighed. This time, with much more irritation. “You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on him. That was something you said you’d do. That you could handle it.”
Heat raced up Sean’s spine. He wanted to say that he was trying his hardest. That he couldn’t control what his grandfather did. But his dad wasn’t interested in excuses. He only wanted results.
“Yep, Dad. I know.”
“You assured me that this was what you wanted. And you knew what the job entailed when you took it on. . .” He let his words linger in the air.
“I know.” Sean fought the groan that grew in his throat. If only he could say the words on the tip of his tongue. But, telling his dad off wasn’t going to solve anything.
His dad clicked his tongue. “Good. I’m happy we cleared that up. Now, make sure you do what you have to in order to get this auditor on his way, so everything can go back to normal.”
Sean folded one arm across his chest and rested his elbow on his hand. “What does that mean?”
“It means, Sean, that when you’re a business person you need to do what has to be done to get results. You don’t help with the audit. You give them the information and have them figure it out for themselves. Keep them from being distracted so they can get out of there faster. If there is anything your grandfather has been hiding, it’s their responsibility to find it—not yours.”
Fighting Love for the Cowboy (A Moose Falls Romance Book 1) Page 7