“I don’t need a phone,” I say woodenly.
He frowns and sets it down. “You sure? It would also make getting dinner requests from us a little easier. Not that youneedto cook for us, I want to reiterate, but we appreciate the help, and you’re good at it. We’ll pay you for your work. Ranch cooks make good money, because cowboys get hungry.”
It’s hard not to perk up at that. “Okay.”
He gives me another crooked smile. It’s dangerously charming. “But part of working here at the ranch means being reachable by everyone else on the ranch.”
I drop my gaze and stare at the device.
“It’s been a while since I've had a phone,” I finally admit.
He doesn’t react. If anything, he goes even more still, his calm exterior turning to glass.
It’s interesting to see him control his reactions like that. Makes me feel bold. “You must think that’s very odd.”
“It’s not that common for a young woman to go without a phone.” He chooses his next words carefully, his gaze searching my face. “Were you not allowed?”
The question pulls me right to the edge of a cliff. Do I answer? Or do I deflect? Do I jump or back away?
Slowly, tentatively, I shake my head. Just a little. It feels like I’m admitting so much, but Zane doesn’t judge me.
His gaze is steady as he nods. “What else can I get you, then? Maybe something to read while you wait for your wash?”
I step further inside the room and look around. The room is part office, part library, part…plant hospital, it looks like, from the scraggly sad green things on a stand in front of the window.
As I glance around, I feel his gaze slide down to my shirt. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his mouth quirks up, his neat moustache twitching.
“What’s so funny?” I ask. Free falling into a canyon makes me brave. Or dumb. Probably dumb.
“Luna gave you some hand-me-downs, I see.”
Definitely dumb. Embarrassed, I nod.
But the confession is rewarded with a story, a little gift of information about my host.
“That was my one and only rodeo attempt.” He sits down again and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “I’m not as reckless as my brothers, it turns out. Came in dead last in my event. Only wore that shirt to sleep in, and finallytossed it on the donate pile. I’m glad it’s getting a second life.”
I shiver at the thought that he used to sleep in this, too. And I chose it after my bath. Pressed my face in the soft cotton andinhaledthe scent, thinking it was just laundry.
Maybe it was laundry and a very off-limits man, too.
My cheeks heat up. I don't know how to properly react to that. And my improper reaction is best ignored. I take a step back, because that feels like the right thing to do. It doesn’t carry me far, though. I can’t seem to move my body all the way to the door. “I won’t bother you any more if you’re working.”
“I don’t mind the interruption, I promise.” He glances at his watch and winces. “And it’s almost bedtime for me. I didn’t realize it had gotten this late.” He looks up at me, and this time there’s something blatantly curious in his gaze. “Are you a night owl? Or are you having trouble sleeping?”
“I fell asleep with Bellamy earlier. Then I woke up and remembered I wanted to do laundry, so…”
"Make yourself comfortable, then.” He gestures at the room, then returns his attention to his work.
There’s something about his shift in focus that makes me feel like his offer is genuine. He’s working, I’m waiting for the washing machine to run its cycle, so why can’t I look around?
The bookshelves take up the entire wall opposite the window. Floor to ceiling, densely packed with a wide variety of titles. I drag my eyes across the spines. History, mostly. Some military nonfiction, a few thick biographies. Piles of agriculture magazines.
And then a big chunk of fiction books that makemy heart race. A lot of thrillers, some battered fantasy paperbacks, and an entire shelf of romance novels.
I slow down there, pulling a book out to read the back, feeling like I’m doing something incredibly wrong, that feels secretly good.
“What do you read?" Zane asks from behind me.
