“No. I want to make sure you stay out of my way.”
“You were the one who started out in my way. First by putting your hand on my cock.”
My face burns. “That was an accident! I would never randomly grab your dick.”
“What about on purpose?” He has the gall to laugh.
I stare at him, recalling how he’d snapped the cuffs on me and how awareness had raced through my body. I hate that I’ve never been able to eradicate that awareness. That I can’t make my body find a way to ignore him.
I think the wisest move is to retreat and stay as far away as possible. I wave my hand in dismissal. “Us in the same house is clearly not going to work. I’ll take care of the kids on my own.”
“No. I made a promise to Marshall and I don’t break promises.”
“He’ll understand.”
“I said no, Melody.”
Why does the way he says my name send ripples across my skin? I reach for a batch of pink roses and a thorn pricks me. “Ouch.” I suck on my finger.
Jonas’s eyes darken.
“We’ll stay in the house together,” he says, deep voice going deeper. “You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
“That’s exactly how I want it.” I turn my back on him and remain that way until he leaves. Then my knees sag and I sit down before I fall. For all my bravado I don’t know how in the hell to survive a week in the same house with that cowboy.
Chapter 2
Jonas
Not even ten minutes. That’s how long it takes for Melody to get under my skin, and it sucks big hairy balls that I can’t seem to control myself when I’m around her. It also sucks that she’s so damn beautiful.
She dresses in short, flouncy dresses with curves that had felt magnetic the first time I’d touched her. I hadn’t wanted to let go even knowing she was in the middle of stealing my truck because one look into her blue eyes and all my brains leaked down to my cock.
He’s taken over from there. All boner and no brain. That’s me around Melody.
I walk my brainless ass across the road from the flower shop where I’d parked my truck and get in. I’d known from the day I refer to as the handcuff hump that she’s trouble. But I’ve done a good job of staying away from her. Until now.
My brother Marshall asked me to watch his kids, and I’d agreed without asking for any details. That’s how I ended up in this position. But whatever Marshall needs, I jump to help and he’s the same way when it comes to me.
A familiar lump builds in my throat. At the hellhole known as The Gentle Children’s Home where Marshall and I lived as kids, he was always running to save me. I scrub my hand down my face to shake the memories. I’m trying to thwart the sadness I sometimes feel when thinking about our past.
The two of us, along with our other brothers by bond, were rescued by our adoptive parents, Gavin and Frances Richford. They’re good people and I’d do anything for them. I can’t stand anything that hurts them. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel.
Right now, the entire family is working like hell trying to unravel the financial hurt that the former ranch manager caused. Right under Dad’s nose, he forged Dad’s signature on loan paperwork pledging the ranch as collateral. Then he skipped town. We’ve all been working our asses off making extra money to pay the loan in between hunting down that bastard.
Even if all the money he stole is long gone, I still want to see the man pay for the pain he inflicted on my family.
Chasing a lead on him was how I caught Melody in the act of trying to steal my truck. I’d gotten a call from a guy my brother Flint had hired to track him down telling me the former ranch manager had been spotted near Lucky River. I’d left in the middle of my meal at Bear’s Diner.
I glance at the flower shop’s front window as I pull onto the street, and my thoughts get stuck on that woman. Again.
Shit. This won’t do. I turn the radio on and turn it up loud trying to drown out my thoughts.
I’m nearly halfway back to the ranch when I realize I didn’t tell her why I went to see her to begin with. I curse and swing the truck around. That’s what happens every time I see her. I get turned upside down.
A parking spot opens directly in front of her business and I take it. I’m opening the shop’s door when the sound of glass breaking and a cry of pain makes my heart drop. I heard those sounds often at the Gentle Children’s Home.
I rush in, heart pounding, wondering who’s hurt.
