Her Cowboy Cousins: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Veronica Wade

  “Look, about the other night at the bar,” I say to him, “I’m sorry for my mother’s behavior. She can be a bit…”

  “Overprotective?” he finishes for me.

  “Well, that’s putting it mildly, but yes.”

  He nods. “I understand completely. I mean, you’re her only daughter, right?”

  “I am,” I confirm.

  “And after losing your stepfather, I’m sure she just wants to keep you safe.”

  I sigh at the thought of Chuck. “Yeah, we both miss him pretty badly. She’s been a mess since he died. I’m just trying to do my best to take care of her.”

  “I’m sure you’re doing a fine job,” he assures me.

  “I hope so. We still fight here and there, which I don’t really like, but I guess that’s bound to happen.”

  “Do you fight about this job?”

  I look at him curiously. “Why do you ask that?”

  He shrugs. “I got the feeling your mom didn’t really want you working with us.”

  I groan. “She didn’t say that to you, did she?”

  “She, uh, might have mentioned it,” he admits.

  Fuck, and I thought it was bad enough that she had treated me like a child by hurrying me out of the bar. But she actually told my bosses she didn’t want me to work for them?

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate of her. Wow, this is really embarrassing…”

  Marshall laughs and looks down, a lock of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. “Hey, relax, it’s not a big deal. I completely understand. We can’t control how protective our parents are.”

  I frown. “I really hope this isn’t going to affect my job in any way.”

  “No, absolutely not. So far, you have been a model employee, and I suspect that is only going to continue.”

  At least I can find the relief in that, if nothing else.

  I look over at him and he stares back with his eyebrow slightly raised.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “You just… you’ve got something right here.”

  He leans over on his horse, as we’re riding close enough and slow enough for him to do so, and he brushes something out of my hair.

  The feeling of his fingertips on my forehead sends a chill down my spine, and my mind goes back to the night I thought of him shirtless and then naked…ready for me.

  “There, got it,” he says, letting his hand fall. But his eyes linger on me for a second. I wonder if that electric feeling I got upon our touching was mutual.

  It can’t be though, right? I mean, there’s no chance he’s attracted to me the way I am to him. He’s older, more mature, incredibly handsome, and I’m just… me.

  But his stare lingers and there’s a gleam in his eyes I just cannot deny. Could he really be into me?

  I have to push that thought out of my head. Even if he is interested in me, which I can’t fathom he is, I can’t do anything about that. He’s my boss. He’s too old for me. I’ve got virtually no experience with men, and frankly, at this point in my life I don’t much want to change that. I have other things I need to focus on, like taking care of my mom and saving money to eventually get out of Autumn Falls. Men are just a distraction.

  “Hey, let’s fall back a little more. We’re getting pretty close to the Lesters, and I think they’ve got the hang of things.” Marshall stops his horse and gets off at a little bend in the creek.

  It’s a serene little spot. There’s a break in the trees that showcases the stream perfectly, and the sound of running water is peaceful.

  “Here, let me help you.” Marshall extends his hand to me. “You have to get down here to really enjoy this, trust me.”

  I swing my leg over and let him help me off my horse. If his fingertips brushing me weren’t bad enough, his hand pressing gently on the small of my back definitely is.

  His hand in mine, my thigh sliding up against him as I stumble off… it’s all far closer than our bodies should be. I’ve got butterflies in my stomach, a tingle running straight to my core.

  I let go of his hand and hope that I’ll calm down, that the butterflies will cease fluttering, but they don’t. Once they’re here they stick around, and I feel like I can barely look at him without blushing.

  “Isn’t it nice?” he asks as he looks out onto the creek. The sun is just beginning to go down and the light makes a golden glow on the water, which sparkles as it runs.

  “Absolutely beautiful,” I tell him. But I’m not thinking about the blue of the lake. I’m thinking of the oceans that are his eyes. I want to fall into them.

  He looks back at me, and once again pauses.

  “What?” I ask. My voice is soft.

  He says nothing. Just continues to look at me, his face softening. For a moment, it seems like he’s leaning toward me. Is he actually going to kiss me? But a second later, he stops moving. He isn’t going to kiss me at all. The blood rushes to my cheeks as he turns his head back to the lake.

  I shouldn’t be disappointed. If anything, I know what I should be is relieved that he isn’t making a move on me. It would be inappropriate and distracting. But I’m not relieved, and I can’t force myself to be. The thought of his lips touching mine… I want it. I want to experience it, to push the boundary, to see where it gets us.

  This is exactly why I shouldn’t have allowed myself to fantasize about my bosses at home! Now it’s going to affect my work, and that is completely my own damn fault.

  Marshall can’t hear the thoughts in my head, but for some reason, I still feel transparent, like desire is written all over my face. I’m mortified.

  “Hey, I should probably head back,” I say, my voice cracking. “I bet that seven o’clock reservation will be here any minute.”

  “Oh, right.” He nods. “Yeah, you feel comfortable going ahead? I’ll go catch up with the Lesters, make sure they’re doing okay.”

  I turn away, pick up the reins, and then mount my horse. “Perfect!” I bleat cheerily, though I feel anything but cheery as I head back. After I put my horse back and go up to the main building, it’s only ten minutes until the second family arrives. I take them to the room that I cleaned out earlier.

  Of course, after they get settled, I’m bored again. And this time, there’s not much to bake. Even with both the Lesters and the new family having some of my cookies, the plate is mostly still full.

  I sigh and put my head in my hand. At least I’ll be off soon. I almost doze off for a second when I hear a voice.

  “Hey, can I have one of those?”

  Morgan is standing out in the lobby, his blue jeans tight over his hips and the lines of his muscles somehow still visible under a plaid shirt. I don’t even know where he came from. I didn’t hear anyone walk up. But he’s pointing at the plate of cookies and looking at me with a big grin.

  “Yeah, of course!” I tell him. “Please!” I push the plate toward him, smiling.

  He grabs one and takes a bite. He closes his eyes for a moment as he savors it.

  “Holy hell, this is amazing,” he says through a mouth still full of cookie. “Did you make these?”

  “Yeah, I had a little downtime today and thought I might do some baking, make the place welcoming, you know.”

  “Girl, these are something else. Truly. Man, I’d love to know how to make a cookie like this.”

  I give a quick waving gesture of my hand. “Oh, it’s easy! Seriously, you could do it no problem. I’ll show you sometime if you want to learn.”

  “Really?” He raises his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t mind giving baking lessons, huh?”

  “Not at all! I love teaching people to cook and bake. It’s so much fun for me. I’ll do it anytime you want.”

  He thinks on this for a moment. “Would you mind doing that tonight, maybe? I mean, if you don’t mind staying a little late?”

  I’m totally surprised, but recover fast. “I don’t mind! I’d be happy to.”

  “All right, awesome. We’l
l do it tonight then.” He smiles at me.

  And just like with Marshall, I could’ve sworn his eyes lingered just a little too long before he leaves. Just like my eyes linger on his ass in those jeans as he walks away.

  Sarah

  “Okay, and this was a cake I made for my mom’s birthday many years ago. It was actually the first time I ever used fondant, but I think it came out kind of nice,” I tell Morgan as I show him the photo on my phone.

  “Nice? Are you kidding? It looks amazing! With all those little polka dots? It looks like it came straight from some fancy magazine photo!”

  I laugh. “Thanks! My mom liked it; that’s what counts.”

  “You really taught yourself all of this?” he asks.

  “Yeah, you know, I was never a real partier, never super social. I don’t have many hobbies outside of the house, so this is pretty much what I do in my free time. I would love to get some formal training, though. That’s part of why I’m working here—to try and save up for tuition at culinary school.”

  “Speaking of which,” he says, “I should probably be paying you for these hours you’re staying late to teach me.”

  “Oh, no, don’t even worry about it! Honestly, I’m a little pissed at my mother right now, so it’s a relief to have something to do that doesn’t involve going home and dealing with her. Seriously, it’s not a problem for me at all.”

  He smiles. “Well, regardless, you’re here, and it was at my request, so you’ll get these hours on your check.”

  It’s hard for me to imagine why my mom doesn’t want me working for these guys. They’ve been nothing but kind to me. My boss at the diner wasn’t bad either, but he wasn’t exactly itching to pay me for time that I said didn’t need to be compensated.

  “So, what do you want to start with? Those cookies from earlier?” I ask.

  “Yeah, that would be awesome. They were fantastic.”

  “Well, you’re going to be surprised at how easy they are to make. They’re very deceptive, making me look like an amazing baker when it’s actually very little effort.”

  I pull out all the ingredients I had used previously in the day, and Morgan and I continue to make small talk as we work.

  “Sorry to hear you’re having problems with your mom,” Morgan says as I measure out flour.

  “Oh, nothing you need to apologize for. If anything, she should be the one to apologize.” I look up at him through my lashes. “I’m really sorry for what she said to you at the bar. It was completely inappropriate. She has no right to talk to my bosses that way.”

  Morgan shrugs. “I get it. She’s your mom, she worries about you. It’s understandable. I didn’t take too much offense.”

  “But what does she even have to worry about?” I crack an egg on the side of the mixing bowl. “This is a fantastic place to work, and what’s more, the pay is decent. The best in town, in fact. She should be happy for me, if anything.”

  “Well…” Morgan hesitates for a second, as if trying to decide on whether or not what he’s thinking is a smart thing to say. “I think she mostly worries about Spencer.”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask slowly. Did my mom say something about Spencer specifically?

  “I don’t know, Spencer used to, uh… get around a lot. He just has kind of a history with women. I mean, don’t get me wrong, though, he’s changed a ton. He’s a different man than he was in his early twenties. But a lot of people in this town don’t seem to notice that. His reputation really dogs him.”

  I look down at the bowl as I mix, feeling immediately bad for Spencer. I don’t have the courage to ask if my mom was that personal with my boss, but I think I know the answer.

  “My point is just that you don’t really need to worry about him, so don’t. He’s a good guy,” Morgan finishes.

  “Definitely, I have no doubts about that at all,” I tell him. “You all seem really nice. So please don’t take whatever my mom says to heart, because I truly enjoy working here. And she may treat me like I’m a damn child, but I’m not. I’m fully capable of making my own choices and being the best employee I can be.” I look down at the bowl. “Do you want to mix this?”

  “Sure!” he says with a crooked grin, as he takes the bowl from me. “And don’t worry, I don’t doubt that either. We can all see how capable you are. Actually, that’s what makes it so confusing…”

  “Makes what confusing?” I ask.

  He frowns. “Never mind. Honestly, I think I’m overstepping.”

  “No, it’s totally fine. I want to hear whatever you have to say.”

  He still doesn’t seem sure. “It’s just that you seem very capable, very adult, but it’s like your mom has way too much say in your life. I don’t know, for your age and everything, I just don’t think she should be trying to control you like that. I know your mom is a lovely woman, probably a great mother, but sometimes it’s hard to know when to let your kids go and allow them to live their own life. Seems like she doesn’t want to let you out from under her thumb.”

  I look from his face to the mixing bowl as I think about how to reply.

  He’s not wrong; my mother is definitely controlling. But I never considered that it was a huge problem, because frankly I never felt much need to rebel. But should I be? She definitely took things farther than I thought she would in talking to my bosses. Maybe I should be trying harder to be my own person, to not allow her this false sense of control.

  But I don’t say that out loud. I try to change the subject.

  “Oh, that’s looking perfect!” I tell him. “We don’t want to overmix. We really just need to fold in the chocolate chips now,” I add, as I grab the bag and measure out two cups of chocolate chips.

  “You’re right, these really aren’t complicated at all,” he says.

  “Yep, so easy to do on my downtime, as well. Honestly, there’s so much extra time working as the receptionist, I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

  I immediately regret saying that. I probably shouldn’t be telling my new boss how little I have to do. I don’t want them to think my job is unnecessary, even though it kind of is. They could easily have someone working two jobs here. It takes only minutes to check someone in.

  He looks at me curiously. “If you love cooking so much, why didn’t you go for the cook’s job?”

  “I did, actually. But Marshall had already hired someone for the position,” I explain.

  “Right… yeah, but I don’t think they even showed up today. Some gal named Etta Mae. I don’t think I’ve met her.”

  I immediately know who he’s talking about. “Etta Mae was just hired at the bar my mom works at. Maybe she got a better offer?” I suggest.

  Morgan immediately looks annoyed. “Wow. Would it really have been so hard to call in and let us know that?” He shakes his head. “Some people, I swear…”

  “I agree, completely unprofessional. I can’t even imagine doing something like that.”

  “That’s because you are very professional,” he says to me. “A decent employee. If you still want to, I don’t see why you couldn’t cook for us as well.”

  “Really?” I say excitedly. “That would be fantastic. Not that I’m saying the receptionist job is boring or anything, but I’d just love to be able to get paid for the work I’m passionate about.”

  “I understand completely,” he says. “There’s nothing to be passionate about when it comes to desk work.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, not so much. But you said it, not me,” I remind him.

  He laughs a little and I catch him staring down at me. He’s probably a foot taller than I am, which doesn’t exactly help the whole me-being-attracted-to-him situation. I love tall men.

  He’s somehow managed to get a bit of flour on his nose in the process of stirring.

  “Oh, hey, you’ve got something right here.” I reach up to wipe it off his nose. As I pull my hand away, he takes it. I look at his hand holding mine, then back up to his face, and only a sec
ond later, he’s leaning in to kiss me.

  It feels like it’s happening in slow motion, but I don’t want to stop it. I know I should pull away from his lips. I’ve got no business messing around with my boss.

  But as soon as his lips touch mine, any willpower I may have had is gone. The kiss is electric and sends a shiver down my spine. My lips part and all I want is to taste him, for his tongue to explore mine. Heat runs through every inch of my body.

  But the moment comes to a crashing halt when I hear a voice to my right.

  “What the hell?”

  We both pull away in the same moment to find Marshall standing there, his face the picture of shock.

  I’m immediately horrified and embarrassed. I try to think of what to say, what can explain this, but nothing comes to my mind. I feel like I can’t even form words. But even if I could, there’s nothing to say.

  I just rush past him out of the kitchen. He makes no effort to stop me or question things any further. I grab my purse from my desk on the way out and try not to die in my utter humiliation until I get home.

  Which is easier said than done.

  Spencer

  I’m working on rearranging our last available guest suite when suddenly I hear shouting in the kitchen. It’s Marshall and Morgan, and they’re being damn loud. If I can hear them all the way back here, so can our other guests. Not something I want to see on Yelp. I rush down the stairs as quietly as I can.

  What the fuck could they even be fighting about? It’s not like Morgan to get into a conflict about anything. He’s normally always trying to keep the peace, like he did just the other day when I was raging about Marshall’s ex living here.

  Hell, maybe that’s what this damn fight is about. Maybe Morgan has had it with Eva. I know I have. I haven’t even seen her around today, the first day of our busy season! Who the hell does she think she is? We give her a job, a place to sleep, and she’s not gonna do her damnedest to work hard for us? Pretty much the behavior I expected from her, but it’s still annoying.

  When I reach the kitchen, their voices are echoing.