“Hello, Blake,” his voice is even warmer and softer than I recall.
There is no way I would not recognize that hot-honey voice saying my name. He said my name a hundred ways last night. Inthe throes of orgasms, in the darkness as we laughed about how we had picked each other up at that dive bar, and as I drifted off to sleep in his arms. Before I made my cowardly exit before the sun came up.
Slowly the big figure turns, and the familiar impulse to turn and flee takes hold of me. Because, lord above, was Brooks this beautiful last night too? Rays of sunlight through the rafters hit his face, highlighting the sharp jawline and the piercing, blue eyes I spent hours gazing into. His beauty in the daylight seems unfair.
Gone now are the hoodie and jeans, the motorcycle boots and biker air. Now he fills out worn jeans and cowboy boots, looking every bit like a cowboy. How did I miss that last night? How did I not hear the adorable twang in his tone or see the weather skin that tells of a hundred days spent out in the sun mending fences and tending to horses?
“Of all the stables in all of Starlit Summit, you wind up in mine,” Brooks laments as he leans back on the stable gate.
He does not look surprised. He does not even look upset. No, if I were to put a name to the look on his wickedly handsome face, I’d call it amusement. He crosses his arms over a chest I know for a fact is solid muscle. With a smirk, he lets the silence stretch until I can hear the blood rushing in my ears.
“Funny guy. I do recall some laughter,” I choke the words out, hanging my hands from my back pockets as I rock on my heels. “Look, about last night, I did say...” Once again, I trail off as he cuts me off, closing the distance between us in two big steps.
“Eight hours. That is what you gave me,” he nods, his mouth twitching into a smirk as he reaches out to brush his knuckles over my cheek. “Doesn’t mean that is all I was hoping for. I had hoped to at least get a proper goodbye from you, not your pretty backside rushing out my front door.”
Heat crawls up my neck, a blush so fierce it probably glows in the dark. “Brooks, I....I had no idea you were...or that we would...I mean we never talked about...this.” I end on a sigh, waving a hand to indicate not the weird thing between us but the ranch itself.
“No, we did not. We did not discuss a lot, darlin’. What are you doing here, Blake?”
Brooks towers over me, so tall I have to crane my neck to meet his gaze. Big mistake. Those eyes saw me come last night, they saw me desperate and needy and we both know it. In fact, I think they saw a lot more than I meant them to, if I am being honest.
“I am here to work, Brooks. I took this job months ago. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, dove, it was not about me before I found you sitting there waiting for me. Now, I think we both know better,” his breath is warm against my ear as his big hands circle my hips and yank me closer.
All I want to do is fall against his chest and let him have his way with me. Again. All day, for a lot longer than the eight hours I gave him last night. But I can’t. He is wrong. I came here for me. To find the girl I left on my uncle’s farm a long time ago.
“That is where you’re wrong, stud,” my tone is curt, leaving no room for flirtation or frailty on my part. “This is about me and what I want. I wanted you last night. I had you, Brooks. Now I want to work.”
Brooks lets out a chuckle that is mildly foreboding, tipping his hat at me. “Have it however you want, darlin’,” he hums, not sounding convinced at all. To be fair, I did not convince myself with my little speech. “I can play along just fine. On the ranch, you work for me. You do what I say, when I say, and how I say, and we will be just fine. If you don’t like it, you can run thatpretty ass out of here just as fast as you ran out of my place this morning.”
Glaring at him as he turns to hand me a broom, I shake my head. “No. No more running off. That is why I am here, Brooks. To work. Deckard hired me for a reason, Brooks. Wait...Brooks Carter? Is that....no way.”
Grinning at me as I piece together who he is, he nods. Well, I am well and truly fucked. Both literally and figuratively, it would seem. Because last night I saw this big, brooding man as a dangerous biker who would give be my one last mistake. I had no idea he was a cowboy, let alone this cowboy.
Brooks Carter is anelitehorse trainer, a man my own uncle raved about. My uncle did not hand out praise. Hell, I broke a horse he couldn’t, and all he said was that I had gotten the good genes. Brooks is who they call in similar situations—when you think you have done all you can to train a horse, to soothe its wild streak, he comes along and does his magic.
Suddenly, I wonder if he is going to do that same magic on me.
“That’s me, darlin’. Now, get to it, stall three needs mucking. Welcome to Meadow Vale.”
Brooks tips his hat at me again then saunters off, leaving me dumbfounded. Well, also, a little turned on. Because he was hot enough as a bad-boy biker in that bar last night. Out here in the sunshine, in dusty Levi’s that fit him like they were made for him and those cowboy boots, he is a new level of hot I am not prepared for.
Well shoot, I was not looking to be tamed, but with Brooks taking the reins I might not have a choice.
Chapter Four
Brooks
Few things strike me as truly beautiful.
A slow sunrise over the sloping hills on the ranch. A horse growing to trust you after you give the right effort. And then there’s Blake—a woman so damn determined she’ll sweat and bleed just to prove she belongs here. Watching her, it’s clear she doesn't just want to be on a ranch; sheneedsit. She thrives in the dirt, fueled by every person who ever told her she couldn't handle it—me included.
It is day two of her working her ass off. I worked her hard yesterday, harder than I might have worked anyone else. That was all about my pride. I was a little bothered that she ran out on me, sure. To say I was stunned when showed up as my new hand is putting it lightly. I was still licking my wounds from waking up without her when she sauntered her pretty ass into my barn.
Whatever I thought about her at The Barn, I was wrong. I might have seen her sitting there waiting for something, but I was wrong about just what it was she was waiting for. More than once, she mentioned a new start. I had hoped I could be a part of that, but she is not ready for it. No harm, since we have nothing but time.
“Turns out you’re mine for at least six months, darlin’,” I reminded her at 5:00 AM this morning when I greeted her with a cup of coffee and a cocky smile.
