I worked hard to ignore her appearance. Those short skirts that showed off her curvy legs. The way she sometimes tied shirts at the waist or wore cropped tops so I’d catch a glimpse of her stomach. She was good at her job and didn’t need me leering at her. Staring at her would be easy to do. That round ass of hers. The way it wiggled when she walked?—
Fuck me.
I had to pretend to date one of the youngest employees we had. It’d been hard enough to act like I wasn’t attracted to her, tosteer clear of her and the company’s social media accounts. Now I also had to act as if a girl like her would be happy with a guy like me. Lane didn’t call meold manjust because of my age.
I was content with my life. When my empty house bothered me, I came here and traded shit with the guys.
And I’d dived in to help Ruby because I was so damn content with my single life.
I checked my watch. It was almost nine. Should I wake her up?
The door of the room she’d been in creaked open. She stumbled out, yawning and rubbing her face. Dark smudges rimmed under her eyes. Her dark hair swirled wild around her head and the white shirt she’d had on hung half unbuttoned. Her skirt hitched higher on her thighs than it had been last night, baring even more of her creamy legs. She was barefoot.
Fuck me.
When I had agreed to go all in, I’d become her distiller in shining armor. The way she had looked at me—damn. A stronger guy might’ve resisted and let her down gently, done damage control instead of making more, but I’d convinced myself that helping her was getting one over on someone who punched down in life. Someone had to teach those people a lesson in humility.
I’d told myself that getting closer to her had nothing to do with those curvy legs and that ripe ass.
She sighed and knocked on the bathroom door. Looking up, she saw me staring at her like a fucking perv.
Her cheeks flamed the color of her name and she tugged her skirt down. “I slept too long.”
“Not at all.” I should be a gentleman and drop my gaze. I didn’t. I had to be comfortable looking at mygirlfriend. “Take your time.”
She smiled and ducked into the bathroom. The guys had already been up and were in the shop repairing the main bar on the sickle mower. I’d found a few extra things to do to keep them busy and out of the house. Ruby didn’t need more bare chests or guys in nothing but underwear.
They were her age. I wasn’t.
But it was my job to protect her, and I didn’t know if she wanted to get hit on by Lane or Cruz. Admittedly, they’d be decent around her, if a little flirty.
The skin under my collar grew hot. I tugged at my T-shirt. I would not let her down. I was a man of my word. Besides, my deal with her might stop those looks from my brothers and sisters. The ones that worried I wasn’t getting out enough. Like I was no longer properly socialized and would just stay in more and more rather than facing the world and the judgment it could offer.
I might have to wait for that benefit until after they berated me for dating an employee.
Several minutes went by and she stepped out. Her hair was secured in a band. A puffy ponytail blossomed behind her head. She’d buttoned her white top but had left it hanging over her skirt. “I have to grab my purse.”
She scurried to her bedroom and a punch of lust hit my gut. The back of her skirt rode up higher, something I had noticed last night. When we’d been cleaning the front part of the bar, I had put myself between her ass and any pairs of eyes in the place.
She emerged. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” I said as if I hadn’t ever thought how easy it’d be to bend her over in that skirt. To flip it up and run my hand— Christ. Where was my control this morning? I indicated the covered plate on the table in front of me. “Hungry?”
Her eyes flared wide. “You brought me food?”
“I heated up a breakfast sandwich.” I’d made them—after she’d gone to bed—to heat up this morning. There’d been no way I could sleep after that evening. I’d had to think about this fake dating scenario, to tell myself it was nothing like before. I’d intentionally be a fake boyfriend.
She peeled the aluminum foil off the sandwich. Her pink lips parted. “That’s huge.”
“The egg is farm fresh.” I took the thermos I’d set on the end table and put it by her plate. “Here’s some OJ.”
“Oh my god, you think of everything.” She balanced the plate on her lap, her legs tightly closed, and took a bite. Her eyelids fluttered shut. And there was that goddamn moan.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away. I leaned closer. Would she moan again? That noise was indecent in all the best ways. She made it over food, but when the sound reached my ears, the what-ifs circled in my head.
What if I could make her sound like that?
What if she did it while I was in her?—
