by Jane Jamison
The accommodations weren’t great, but if she had to give up convenience and comfort to stay, then she would. Still, why were they giving her the smallest room? Why weren’t they giving her the biggest room? After all, she was a woman. And what about sharing a bathroom with three men? What woman would want that? She itched to tell them off, to demand that they give her their best bedroom. Yet as irritated as she was, she kept her mouth shut.
Grabbing his hat off the coat rack, John nodded and led the way out the side door of the kitchen. She hurried to the small window over the kitchen sink and watched as they sauntered out to a barn behind the house. The barn had peeling paint, but other than that, it looked sturdy enough.
“Y’all come back soon, ya hear? We ladies of the South don’t like to be left alone for too long.” She giggled at her horrible accent.
* * * *
“Guys, our intended mate is spoiled.” Smoke hated like hell to think that way about Catherine, but there was no denying she was used to the best things in life and thought she deserved them. He picked up a stick of straw and started tying it into a knot.
John leaned against the barn and shook his head. “Yeah. I gave her the benefit of the doubt when I first met her, but you’re right. She’s going to be a handful unless we put her straight.”
“And how do we do that, cuz? Whip her ass?” Tatum picked up a horsewhip and lashed the railing of an empty stall. “I wouldn’t mind handling that chore.”
“I don’t think we need to get physical.” John’s cock jumped, remembering how great she looked in the T-shirt and jeans she’d thrown on at the hospital. He’d had to clench his fists to keep from tearing her clothes off and forcing her back into the bed.
“Then how do we do it?” Tatum dropped the whip.
“We make her see the light of day. We show her what’s important.”
“You’re going to have to give us more details.” Smoke was ready to do whatever it took. She was their mate, no matter what her attitude, but if they were going to have a long and happy life together, she had to have an attitude adjustment.
“I’ve already started by giving her the small, cramped room.”
“I wondered why you did that,” said Tatum.
As far as Smoke was concerned, John had always been the brightest one. He was proving it yet again. “Go on.”
“Her knee’s fine and her head, too. We’ll give her tonight to rest up and get acquainted. After that, she’ll start earning her keep.”
“Doing what?”
“By doing chores. There’s no reason why she can’t help out around here. She can feed the chickens and wipe down the horses.”
But Smoke saw a flaw in the plan. “I don’t know. We might push her enough that she’ll want to leave.”
“I don’t think so. While we’re making her work, we start working on getting her to accept us as her mates.” John pointed a finger at Tatum. “Nice and easy. No whips.”
“Well, hell, cuz, you’re taking all the fun out of it.”
Smoke chuckled, growing eager to implement John’s idea. “Besides, if she decides she wants to leave, it’ll take a while for someone to come and get her.”
“Especially since I still haven’t gotten her the phone like I promised,” added Tatum. “I figured, what’s the hurry? We don’t really want her calling someone, right?”
“She borrowed one of the nurse’s phones once but not a second time.” Smoke’s excitement grew. “She’s asked me about a phone several times, but when I give her an excuse, she doesn’t question me much. Seems strange, right? I’d think a woman like her would want a phone even if she’s not in a hurry to get back to her regular life.”
“You’d think so. It might be that she doesn’t want a phone in her name or with her old number. She took off to get away from her other life so maybe she doesn’t want to get found.” John slapped him on the back. “That’s just more proof that she wants to stay.”
“Soon enough, though, she’ll want one. All women want their phones.” Smoke was sure of it. “Or she’ll ask to borrow one of ours.”
“Until she starts really pushing for one, we keep ours out of sight,” added John. “No use in tempting her.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Tatum started back to the house, the chores they’d supposedly had to do all but forgotten. “Get her doing chores first and learn what’s it’s like to live on a ranch. She’ll straighten up soon enough. Once we get through with her, she’ll be as sweet as apple pie.”
“Damn straight.” Smoke lengthened his stride, passing both the other men. “Instead of hissing at us, we’ll have her purring in no time.”
* * * *
“I don’t see the problem, Catnip.” Tatum did his best to keep from laughing. “The chickens have to get fed and their eggs gathered. Someone’s got to do it, and the rest of us already have chores to do. That leaves it to you.”
Catherine put her fisted hands on her curvy hips and glared at him. “I’m supposed to be resting, recovering.”
“Your doctor gave the all clear for you to pitch in. Again. What’s the problem?” So far, he’d had her mop the kitchen floor—after showing her how to use the mop. Next was taking care of the chickens, and then he’d show her how to use a shovel to clean out a stall.
“I don’t do manual labor.”
Her brown eyes had darkened, anger flaring. If he hadn’t made a promise to his cousins to go along with John’s plan, he would’ve thrown her to the ground and fucked her right there and then.
He shrugged. “Okay. Fine with me.”
The anger gave way to confusion. “It is?”
“Sure. But you know the rule on a ranch, don’t you?”
Those beautiful eyes narrowed with suspicion. “No.”
“It’s a simple one. If you don’t work, you don’t eat.” He almost laughed again when her mouth fell open. Instead of giving her time to argue as she’d done for a solid ten minutes before finally giving in to mopping the floor, he heeled around and strode toward the barn, tossing his words behind him. “When you’re finished with the hens, head on over to the barn and muck out the two empty stalls.”
“Muck out the stalls?”
“Yeah. It’s easy.” He did a one-eighty, shooting her a grin as he did. “Just grab a shovel and start shoveling shit into the wheelbarrow. Once it’s full, dump the shit out back at the edge of the garden. Keep on doing it until you hit hard dirt.”
“What? You want me to move manure around?” The incredulity of her tone was unmistakable. “Tatum, come back. You don’t understand. I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t do manual labor.”
Oh, I understand, all right, Catnip. And it’s high time you did, too.
* * * *
So close. I’m so close to kissing him. Come on, John. Kiss me already.
Catherine leaned forward and parted her lips. If John didn’t get the hint this time, he never would. She was stunned when he took her arms and gently moved her to the side.
“The potatoes are burning,” he said.
Seriously? He’s worried about the damn potatoes?
Yet she tried to keep a pleasant attitude. It was getting harder and harder to do so. She’d been staying at the ranch for the past few days, and nothing sexual had happened. If she didn’t still get the amazing feeling whenever she was around them, she would’ve sworn they weren’t interested. But the feeling, along with their heated gazes, caught whenever they thought she wasn’t watching, kept her going.
They wanted her. Of that she was positive. So why the hell was it taking so long for them to act on it?
“I’ll get them.” Tatum yanked open the oven door and pulled out the tray of homemade potato chips. He set the burned chips down on top of the counter. “I think it’s a total loss.”
“Didn’t you say you knew how to cook, baby?” asked Smoke.
She scowled at Smoke, unwilling to say anything. She’d lied, of course, but what else could she have done? If she hadn’t promised t
o make them dinner, they would’ve found yet another disgusting chore for her to do. So far she’d fed the chickens, mopped the floors, and ended up mucking out the stalls. Before she’d met them, she wouldn’t have even known what the word muck meant. Now she was all too familiar with the term. What had happened to them taking care of her? Other than her first night, she hadn’t taken it easy since she’d arrived. In fact, she felt like an unpaid hired hand.
“At least I managed to save the steaks.”
She turned her angry gaze on Tatum. “Can I help it if I like mine cooked instead of rare like you three do?” Plopping onto one of the kitchen chairs, she crossed her arms and pouted, no longer trying to put on a happy face.
“It’s okay, darlin’, you’ll learn.” John took the tray of burned potatoes and dumped the charred crisps into the trash.
“Will I, John? Like I learned how to get an egg out from under a sitting chicken?” She held up her hand, showing the pecks the fowl had inflicted.
John not so successfully held back a smirk. “Exactly. It takes a while to know how to handle the work on a ranch.”
So far, she hadn’t talked once about returning home. Instead, she’d held out hope that the men would make a move on her and they’d end up in bed. But they’d been perfect, non-fucking gentlemen, and it was driving her crazy.
“I don’t know why I have to do these chores.” She was done playing around. If they wanted her to work, then they were shit out of luck.
“Because everyone on a ranch pitches in.” Smoke’s eyes sparkled with amber. “Although you didn’t ask, we figured that’s what you’d want to do. It is, right? That’s what you want to do?”
They surrounded her then, cocooning her in their sexual heat. Her irritation was gone with the first breath she took to bring in their unique scents. Musky, manly, with a tinge of something wild just under the surface. Yeah, their aromas could make a woman do almost anything. Except, that is, muck out another damn stall.
“I thought I’d be doing a little light dusting. Maybe some ironing.” Not that she knew how to iron. Her clothes had always disappeared off the floor of her room, only to reappear in her closet. After all, that was what maids were for, right?
Oh shit. I’m not only their ranch hand. I’m their maid.
“You can do those things, too, but the other chores are more important. Cows don’t care if our clothes are wrinkled.”
“Funny, Tater,” she quipped, knowing the nickname would get him. “Still, I thought I was supposed to be resting and letting my knee heal.”
“You’re all healed up now.” John snagged the large bag of potatoes from under the counter and started wrapping several potatoes with foil. “In fact, the exercise will do your knee good.”
She pouted, biting back a response she realized would sound childish. After they became intimate, then she could tell them where they could shove their chores.
“So you’re Double A Oil.”
She nodded at John’s statement, which was really a question. She didn’t like the quick shift in their conversation. “I am since my father died. Not that it’ll matter much longer.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Smoke. “I would’ve thought a company that size could stand a little downturn in the oil biz.”
“You’d think so.” She hadn’t known much about business, but she’d known enough to understand that the company should’ve been financially stronger. Funds that had been there were now gone, supposedly to keep the company afloat.
“You sound like you think something’s off.” John tilted his head to the side like when an animal was trying to understand what a human was saying.
For the first time, even to herself, she admitted the truth. “I do. It’s more of a gut feeling, but something’s off. Thomas, my CFO, doesn’t see it.”
“Do you trust him?”
She stared at Smoke. “Why do you ask?”
“Do you?” he asked again.
She thought about it. “Not really. He’s just too…slick sometimes.”
“Then maybe you should hire someone on the outside to take a look at the books.”
John’s suggestion was a good one. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She’d taken Thomas’s word on everything. Maybe that was part of the problem.
“I can recommend a guy. He’s as honest and as thorough as they come.” John pulled his phone out of his rear pocket. “Just say the word.”
“Yes. Call him.” She might be making a mistake, one that would anger Thomas, but she had to do something.
“Consider it done.” John moved away, already punching in the number.
“Now let’s get back to you. Aren’t you enjoying your time here?” asked Smoke.
What could she say but the truth? “I hate doing chores, if that’s what you’re asking.” She held up her hands and studied her broken nails and chipped polish. “My manicure is destroyed.” Yet, strangely, she found that her ruined nails didn’t bother her as much as she would’ve thought they would.
“So there’s nothing you like about being here?”
He was fishing, so she took the bait. “Sure. I guess.” Still, why give him everything he was searching for? “I mean, it’s nice and quiet. And the landscape is pretty.”
“That’s all? Nothing else?”
Smoke could make her smile even when she didn’t want to. “I guess you three are all right.”
“Wow. We’re all right, huh? That’s high praise enough coming from you.” He grew serious, his smile fading. “Tell me the truth. Do you like staying on the ranch?”
Aside from getting pecked and making her muscles sore doing work she’d never done before, she liked the ranch. During the day, while she was working, she didn’t see the much of the men. But she loved the nights. Once they came back to the house in the evening, just before the sun set, they’d sit around the living room and talk about everything and anything under the sun. How their day went. How hers went. Most of what they talked about was simple conversation, chitchat at times, but every subject put her another step closer to getting to know them.
They were honest and forthright men. Men who spoke their minds and didn’t worry about what others thought. Having that same trait, she admired it when she found it in others.
At first, however, she couldn’t imagine how nice they were, but as the hours passed, she realized that they weren’t boastful as so many men she’d known. They were a refreshing change from the career-driven men in the oil company.
John moved back toward her, his call completed. “My friend’s going to give me a call back once he has more time to talk. Plus, he’s going to need information from you. Now, back to the conversation. Would you like to get used to it?”
John’s question threw her. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“He’s asking if you could imagine living this kind of life.” Smoke moved closer, the heat that had surrounded her, intensifying.
She drew in a slow breath. Were they finally making a move? “It’s a lot different from how I grew up.”
“You mean with money and living in a mansion?” Tatum narrowed his eyes. “We didn’t know who you were at first, so we Googled you.”
“Which means you know most of the bad things about me.” Social media hadn’t been kind to her. Until that moment, she hadn’t cared.
“From what we read, it sounds like you were living the good life.” John skimmed a hand along her hair.
Oh, yeah.
His touch burst into a myriad of sensations that turned her emotions free. At once, she was filled with lust, as well as an overwhelming need for them to think highly of her.
“I’m sure a lot of it is exaggerated. Right, Catnip?”
Her gaze dropped lower, level with their crotches. Instead of staring at their crotches, maybe she should stand up. Yet she found it difficult to rise.
“Right, darlin’? Most of what we read—the parties, the men, the rude behavior, the men—was just the media making more
out of what really happened, right?”
John’s concerned tone couldn’t hide the fact that he’d mentioned men twice. Was he jealous?
“Not really. Most of the stories are true.” She’d never been ashamed of her behavior before, but now it was hard to look them in the eye.
“To know better is to do better.”
She had to lift her gaze to John’s then. “I hope so.”
“You’re a good woman, baby. It’s just that you’re—” Smoke closed his mouth, obviously rethinking what he was about to say.
It didn’t take a genius to guess what he was going to say. “Spoiled rotten?”
Their expressions said she’d guessed right. She looked at the blisters on her hands. Even with gloves, the chores had done their damage. Yet the hard work had done another, different kind of job on her, too. One that was more emotional than physical. During the times she’d spent working, she’d thought about her old life and how everything seemed so shallow looking at it from a distance. Although she never would’ve admitted it before now, she’d come to take pride in helping out around the ranch. Doing chores had made her feel useful, needed, even if she hated doing them. Running a company hadn’t given her the same satisfaction.
Could she leave the mansion, the cars, and the wealth behind? Was living a simpler life better? More fulfilling? It was strange how, in only a short time, she’d come to see how little she really cared for all the material things in her life. She’d led a pampered life, but had she led a good life?
She rose then, unable to keep from reaching out to them. “I don’t think I realized how easy I had it until I came here.”
Tatum cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer. Silently, she rejoiced, thrilled that at last they would be together.
“Don’t let your past decide how you’ll be from here on out.”
She nodded, understanding that he wasn’t putting her down. He was encouraging her to do better. The strange thing was that she wanted to be better, not only for them but for herself.
I am spoiled.
Hadn’t she known that all along? Yet until then, she wouldn’t have thought being spoiled was a bad thing. Now, after learning how it felt to contribute to something bigger than herself, she did.