“God, that smells better than Starbucks,” I murmured, inhaling appreciatively.
Pivoting on one foot, she turned to face me and smiled. “Well, good morning there, cowboy. That’s quite a compliment coming from a city boy such as yourself.” She quickly poured the dark nectar into a large mug and handed it to me. “Cream is in the fridge, and sugar is right here, if you need it.”
“Black is fine, thank you.” I took a long sip, observing her over the rim of my mug.
“Aren’t you a city girl yourself? I noticed your license plate said Chicago on it.”
“I grew up in the city, but I’ve always wanted to live here at the ranch. There’s just something about this place,” she admitted shyly. A hint of blush crept up her cheeks, making her look even more adorably delicious.
“Yeah, it’s like stepping onto another planet,” I scoffed. “Fifty years ago.”
April leaned against the counter, sipping her coffee as she eyeballed me discerningly over the rim of her oversized mug. “It’s definitely different from city life. And Nan certainly has a charm all her own.”
There wasn’t much I could say to that, so I just nodded.
“Why did you come?” April questioned.
Why did I come? Shaking my head, I peered into my coffee cup while I mused over possible answers to that question.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I muttered under my breath. To her, I went with the truth. “Mitch was stressed, burnt out, in overload. I haven’t seen him this way since grad school. We spent years working on this start-up, and when it came down to completion of our project, it should have been smooth sailing. On paper, everything was perfect. When the coding didn’t actually work, I thought his head was going to explode. When Slade called, I saw a perfect chance to get him to reset, find some perspective. The truth is we can work from anywhere, but Mitchell has a bit of a one track mind. He has to be forced to take care of himself, sometimes.”
“And that’s your job? Forcing him to take care of himself?”
I shrugged. “If not me, then, who? Although, now that we’re here, I suspect I’ll have some help, whether I need it or not. That Nan is a force to be reckoned with.”
A slow smile spread across April’s face. “That she is. So, you don’t think you need help?”
“I can handle Mitch just fine on my own, thank you.” I smirked.
April smirked back, peering into her coffee cup shyly as she shot the next question at me.
“So what’s the deal with you and Mitch? Are you guys, like, you know, together?”
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to claim him as mine and then claim her, as well. “What do you think?” I asked, choosing instead to answer her question with one of my own.
“It changes from minute to minute. I can’t seem to get a handle on the two of you.”
My eyebrow quirked at the unintentional innuendo. I was one of those people who could make almost anything dirty.
“Do you want to get a handle on us?” I couldn’t contain the mirth in my voice. Nor could I resist the urge to close the space between us, making the suggestion in my tone that much more evident.
The vein in her neck contracted, and I knew we were on the same page. I stepped closer, and she quickly turned away, busying herself with pouring more coffee.
I quickly stepped back, wrapping my hands around my own mug as I leaned against the counter to observe her. She was an odd one, I concluded. The way she looked at me with thirsty eyes, yet completely shut down when I tried anything remotely resembling flirting.
When she spoke again, her answer was quiet and hesitant. “I’d like to, actually, but I’m giving it up for Lent.”
“Oh, so you’re Catholic.”
“Well, no.”
“Then why are you observing Lent? And what exactly are you giving up?”
Her whole face was red this time, and it was spreading down her chest quickly, disappearing under the neckline of her low cut top.
“Never mind,” she muttered. “Forget it.”
Her lack of an answer didn’t faze me, nor did its implications. I knew exactly what she meant. If anything, it made me more interested. There was nothing I found more energizing than a challenge, especially when that challenge involved a sexy woman such as April.
“Okay,” I agreed cheerfully, rinsing my mug in the sink and loading it in the dishwasher before turning to make my exit. “Consider it forgotten. What are your plans for the day?” I asked, quickly changing the subject. “Mitch said we could have a few days off to recuperate from the drive. I’m not sure what we’ll do. I just know it better not involve getting on a horse. I’m not doing that a minute before I have to.”
April laughed. A soft and sweet laugh that sounded a bit like chimes tinkling in the breeze. I was glad she found it humorous. I, on the other hand, was dead serious. I would avoid those overgrown beasts as long as Mitch would let me.
“I know we don’t have to start working yet. But, I think I’m going to. At least try to make dinner. I need to acclimate myself to this kitchen and make sure I even remember how to cook for this many people.”
I frowned. That didn’t sound good. I was suddenly thankful for the stash of junk food I had the foresight to grab at the quick mart yesterday. “You can cook, can’t you?”
April turned from the pantry, where she looked to be taking a mental inventory and glared at me. “Of course, I can cook. Nan taught my mom, and my mom taught me. But, no, I’m not a cook or housekeeper by trade, and as a single woman, I eat a lot of takeout and TV dinners.”
“Fair enough. So what are you, by trade?”
“I was a secretary at a nonprofit tech company.”
My brain was screaming at me to run away. But I couldn’t. I just stood there silently, looking for a good response, or at least a good parting shot, and an excuse to get out of there before I ended up in a situation that would end with Mitch angry at me.
“Meatloaf!” April exclaimed triumphantly, her head buried in the full size freezer.
“Pardon me?”
She emerged, clutching a large white butcher wrapped package with “ground beef” scrawled on it in large block letters.
“What do you think of meatloaf for dinner? With mashed potatoes, maybe some biscuits? A veggie of some sort?”
“Sounds good.” I smiled hopefully. “Any chance you might add a dessert to that menu? An apple pie or some chocolate cake or anything?”
April
Brody had the cutest look on his face when he asked for dessert. His eyes were all lit up, and his hopeful expression reminded me of a little boy waiting up for Santa on Christmas Eve.
I wanted to say that it was too much work, too ambitious for my first day. I opened my mouth, and instantly, Nan’s voice and Janine’s jumped into my head. Some homemade brownies might be the perfect way to lay groundwork for getting to know Brody. According to Janine, that was what I needed to do, and according to Nan, food was the way to do it.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I told him, fully aware that I was lying through my teeth and I had every intention of raiding this kitchen for whatever dessert making supplies I could rummage up, as soon as he left.
My answer seemed to appease him, and he winked at me, then turned and walked out of the kitchen, still clutching his shirt in his hand.
As soon as he left, I turned and braced myself against the sink. I was resolved in my mission to stay single and abstinent, not giving the milk away for free, as Nan and Janine would say. But seriously, with the hot, shirtless cowboys? The universe seemed determined to usurp my mission. That was okay. I would just have to work harder to stay the course. Remember my reasons and cling to them. So, what were my reasons again? Something about getting to know people and letting them get to know me, outside of the bedroom.
I breathed deeply, calming my mind. That was good. Brownies would work for that. Brownies were a step in the right direction. After all, according to Nan, the way to a man’s heart was thro
ugh his stomach.
I continued my mission. The first thing I needed was a cookbook. Most of my baking came from a box mix, and I hadn’t seen any of those in the pantry, nor had I expected to. Nan baked from scratch.
I didn’t find a cookbook at all, but I did find an old fashioned recipe box in the cupboard above the stove. I pulled it down and peeked inside, squealing as I perused the contents. A treasure trove full of Nan’s best recipes, handwritten and sorted into sections. I quickly flipped to the dessert section and pulled out a card near the front.
I told Brody that it was too ambitious for my first day on the job, but it really wasn’t. Not if I went ahead and started making the brownies now and hid them until after dinner.
The minute I heard his footsteps on the stairs, I went to work, gathering up my ingredients. The card was faded and yellowed, and the handwriting wasn’t the neatest, but I was able to make do, and before long, I had whipped up a double batch of Nan’s double fudge brownies and slid them into the oven to bake.
I set the oven timer and turned on my heel quickly, ready to hide the evidence before anyone else made it back down to the kitchen. I ran into something hard and damp. “Oomph,” I gasped in surprise. What the hell?
Hair. Tiny little curly hairs, studded with tiny little water drops. White skin with sparse freckles scattered across tight muscles. I looked up sheepishly and was greeted with Mitch’s sardonic smile.
“Good Morning. I’m sorry. I was coming to see if you needed any help. You were muttering to yourself.”
“Uh…” I met his gaze with a grimace. “Uh, no, I’m okay, thanks,” I stammered. “What about you? Did you need coffee?”
“I can get it.” Mitch smiled easily, and I was mesmerized by his good looks. He was gorgeous in his own right. His handsomeness was less intense and dark than Brody’s. He had the friendly, hot boy next door vibe going for him with his wide smile and the way his hair molded into soft curls over his ears and around his face. He was less intimidating than Brody, which, from my experience, made him even more dangerous. Those friendly boy next door ones liked to sneak attack you with their friendly demeanor and all-American good looks.
I had been fooled by them far more times than I was willing to admit. Wake up naked in bed the next morning and never know what hit you. But it didn’t take too many pretty boys before you wised up and learned they weren’t as sweet and harmless as they initially came across. Although, come to think of it, it had taken me a good long while to figure it out. I’ve always been a slow learner when it came to men. Which was exactly why I needed to keep my guard up around these two. With Brody’s handsome mysterious good looks, and Mitch’s all-American cowboy persona, they were sure to be a deadly combination.
I looked up to find Mitch peering at me over the rim of his coffee cup, just the way Brody had done, earlier. It was then that I realized I never got an answer about whether or not the two of them were an item or not. Crossing my fingers that they were, so I only had to worry about them invading my fantasies and not my love life, I voiced the same question to Mitch.
He snorted. Snorted. Coffee actually dripped out of his nose. I grabbed a kitchen towel from the handle of the refrigerator and handed it to him, holding back a laugh of my own while he wiped drips of coffee from his nose and chin.
“I guess I’ll take that as a no?”
Mitch was simultaneously shaking his head and wiping his eyes while gasping for breath between bouts of cackling laughter. He held out the towel, and I took it, throwing it in the corner of the kitchen because I wasn’t sure what else to do with it.
“You guys just have a really familiar ease about you,” I explained lamely. “And he seems kind of protective of you.”
“He is protective of me,” Mitch confirmed. “And I of him, as well. And the familiarity comes from living together for nearly twenty years.”
I nodded, embarrassed. His explanation did make sense.
“Of course, it probably also comes from the fact that we have such a history together.” He wiggled his eyebrows and winked when he said it and my eyes widened.
“We’ve been each other’s company and comfort on a lonely night, a time or two,” he added. “But make no mistake, little one, we swing much farther in the opposite direction than we do each other’s.”
My brain registered the unusual term of endearment at the same time it registered the implications of his answer, and my reaction was visceral. My palms were suddenly damp, my heart quickened, and my throat dried up like a sponge in the desert. I wasn’t sure what hit me harder. The news or the nickname.
That was a lie. It was the nickname. That, combined with the way Mitch looked at me. Two little words and I suddenly felt about two inches tall, with the sudden urge to stick my thumb in my mouth, bare my ass and call him Daddy while he spanked me with his bare hand.
Oh. My. God. Where were these thoughts even coming from? First with the threesome action, and now, spanking? And Daddy talk? Seriously?
I thought about what I knew about Nan and what I had already seen between Slade, Blake and Merry. And Janine’s ridiculous advice. Surely, all these things were creeping into my subconscious to make me even more of a boy crazy horny mess than usual. Now I was a boy crazy horny mess with an inclination to kinky fantasies.
Mitch was looking at me expectantly, and I realized he was waiting for me to say something.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered without thinking.
Oh crap. Oh shit. Oh fuck. I closed my eyes and shot a prayer off to the sky. Please let me not have said what I think I said. I wasn’t sure anymore what Mitch asked or what an appropriate answer would be, but I was pretty sure that was not it.
I saw the change flash across his face and gulped.
His easy smile fell flat, and his eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.
His jaw seemed to harden as his smile lessened. The same expression on another man would have been foreboding, and it was for a half a second, but then his face somehow softened and I saw a spark of amusement in his eye as he advanced on me.
I took a deep breath and pulled myself to my full height, forcing myself to look him in the eye.
“I’m not your Daddy,” he rasped, closing the space between us. “But I could be. Do you need a Daddy, little one?”
I met his gaze without wavering, even though I knew my cheeks were bright red, and my hands were probably shaking. What was it Janine had said? If you can’t find a gay best friend, find a Daddy? Was she serious? And was it really this easy? And what the hell did it even mean?
My mouth opened, and I was fully prepared to tell him off so hard he would think it was his mistake instead of mine. I failed myself. Nothing new, of course, but even I couldn’t believe my ears when, instead of telling him off, I burst into tears.
A lot of guys would have muttered some half assed words of comfort and bolted in the opposite direction. Mitch quickly strode to the counter, set his coffee cup down, and was back in front of me, wrapping me in his arms.
“Thank you,” I sobbed into his shoulder. At this point, I had gone from being embarrassed to being beyond mortified. Nothing mattered because there was no way this could get any worse.
I pulled away and wiped my eyes, attempting a smile. “I don’t know what has gotten into me lately.”
Mitch shrugged. “Jet lag? Maybe you’re just exhausted,” he guessed, sounding sincere and sympathetic. “Or maybe you’re in a new and unfamiliar place, attempting a new start in life and you’re scared and overwhelmed. You might be a little afraid that the reality won’t match the expectation or that you’ll mess everything up, somehow.”
Swallowing thickly, I licked my lips, and my breath escaped in a huff of air. I nodded.
“You need a Daddy to comfort and spoil you and tell you that everything is going to be okay.”
“I don’t even know why I said that or what it means,” I wailed. “I’ve never, I don’t. I mean I…”
Mitch held a finger to his lips, and I i
nstantly quieted. His hand brushed the hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear before he cupped my chin. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting a Daddy to take care of you, little one.”
I felt different. I had since this conversation started. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just a vulnerable one. I felt like a child, filled with a certain awe when he seemed to read the inner workings of my soul. I also felt a bit like a naughty student awaiting her fate in the principal’s office.
Instead of correcting him or arguing that that wasn’t what I meant, I nodded.
“Have you ever had a Daddy before?”
The question confused me, and for a moment, I thought of my own dad, before understanding that wasn’t what he meant. “N-not like that,” I stammered, blushing profusely. I had never even considered a Daddy figure, but at this moment, God, I wanted one.
“Not like that, huh? You’ve never had a Daddy to snuggle and spoil you and spank you soundly before tucking you into bed?”
I shook my head, finding myself wishing it was time for dinner instead of time for breakfast. Wanting everything Mitch was offering. Except that he wasn’t offering. Or, was he?
Even when his giant hand cupped my ass, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t imagined the whole exchange. My panties were drenched. My chest was heavy, and my breathing was soft but labored. If it wasn’t real, it was some fantasy.
“I can be your Daddy.” He whispered the words I didn’t even realize I longed to hear.
“I can, as well.” The booming voice with its Yankee twang surprised me, and I turned to see Brody filling the doorway. His wide stance filled the French doors, his arms folded over his chest. The look on his face lacked tenderness and bode no argument.
I felt the change in Mitch without looking at him.
Brody snapped his fingers. “Two Daddies are better than one, little girl. Come upstairs with us, and we’ll show you.”
I almost followed him blindly, but the word us stopped me in my tracks. Brody acted like he spoke for both of them, and the tension had been radiating off Mitch since he arrived. Confused, I looked back at Mitch.
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