"So?"
Dawson's gaze dropped to my lips for half a second before snapping back up."So Ruby would have my hide if I let you freeze in that rattrap of a motel.Consider this a favor to her, not you."
"Right."I smiled slow."Because you're such a generous guy."
"I'm practical.You're here for a few weeks.Might as well make it easy on both of us."
"Easy."I rolled the word around in my mouth like I could taste it."Is that what you call bossing people around and making lists of rules?"
"I call it setting boundaries."
"It sounds exhausting."
His eyes narrowed."Are you always this difficult?"
"Only when someone tries to manage me like livestock."
Dawson pushed off the doorframe and stopped in front of me.He was close enough that I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze.Close enough to feel the heat radiating off him despite the cold air swirling through the barn.
"Do you want to stay or not?"
My pulse kicked up."Are you done with your rules?"
"For now."
"Then yeah."I held his stare."I'll stay.But if you wake me up at four-thirty with some kind of lecture about protocol, I might start a rumor that you actually like having people around."
He didn’t even crack a smile."You wouldn’t dare.”
“Don’t test me, cowboy.”
“Ruby knew exactly what she was doing when she sent you over.”His shoulders dropped a notch in resignation.Then he held out his hand to shake on it.“Looks like we’ve got a deal.”
I slid my hand into his, shivering at the contact.Dawson was a good-looking guy even if his attitude could use a major overhaul.I estimated his age to be mid-thirties.Ruby hadn’t mentioned a wife or family, though.She just said his bark was way worse than his bite, that he lived alone, had plenty of stock I could use to train on, and he could use a little shake up in his carefully controlled life.
My fingers still tingled as he pulled back and gestured toward the barn doors.“Let me show you around.”
The main house sat about a hundred yards from the barn.A wide front porch stretched the full length with faded shutters by the windows that had seen better decades.Dawson led me inside, flipping on lights as he went.
The front room opened into a kitchen with butcher-block counters and a wood-burning stove in the corner.Everything looked clean but lived in.There was no clutter, no piles of paperwork, and no photos on the walls.No personality, either.
"Guest room's upstairs.First door on the right."
I followed him up the narrow staircase, our boots heavy on the wooden steps.At the top, he gestured toward a closed door on the left.
"That's mine and it’s off limits."
"Why?Is that where you hide the bodies?"I teased.
"No, I use the back pasture for that."
So he was capable of humor.That was a good sign.I smirked and moved past him toward the guest room but paused when I noticed his door sat slightly ajar.Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned in to take a quick peek.
A single lamp sat on the nightstand.Boots lined up near the closet like soldiers.A plaid comforter stretched over a queen-sized bed.There were no throw pillows, nothing hanging on the walls, and nothing personal anywhere.It was exactly what I expected.
"Seriously?"
I turned.Dawson stood in the hallway, his arms crossed again, his expression somewhere between annoyed and amused.
