Page 7 of The Rancher

5

STONE

I’m glad Remy helps me make dinner in the kitchen instead of running straight to her laptop. Last night I heard her working so late that this morning I tiptoed around so as not to wake her.

From the way she’s casually described her life, it sounds like this girl does nothing but sit at her laptop.

There's a glimmer of color across her cheeks just from being outside a bit for the past two days, but I'm worried about what's going to happen when she goes back to that basement apartment. I'm unwilling to let that happen.

As we chop vegetables and prepare dinner, I use every excuse to touch Remy lightly. When I cross behind her, I let a hand fall onto her shoulder for a few seconds. When she hands me a spoon, I make sure our fingers touch. One time she needed something from the top shelf, so I asked if she wanted a boost, then took her by the waist and lifted her up so she can grab the salad bowl. It made her giggle.

She doesn't flinch away from these touches, in fact, she's beginning to lean into them. By the time we're finished dinner, both of us are tapping each other's arm or knee while we're laughing or making a point. This heat between us can't just be all in my mind. I see the way she lights up when I run a hand down her back as we're loading the dishwasher.

When we're finished, I see her glancing toward the stairs nervously.

"Hey. Miss Workaholic." I chuckle lightly. "Are you thinking about putting in a few hours at that computer? Because if you’re supposed to be on vacation, you should be on vacation.”

“I’m only on vacation from one of my jobs.” She rolls her beautiful blue eyes. "And as if I would waste money on a real vacation."

I hate that she has to worry about money so much. "Well, you're not doing a cruise, and you're not staying at a pricey hotel. Maybe you could do the relaxation part of a holiday. Relaxing is free. What do you say?"

When she hesitates, I add, “Technically, you were working today. You were helping with a very important horse-saving mission. If I’d had to hire a professional actress, it would've cost me⁠—"

"There's no way I'm letting you pay me for helping," she says, looking scandalized. “You've been amazing just letting me stay here." She glances guiltily at the stairs again. "I should have been looking into buses home today, actually."

"Or…" I take her hand and lead her out to the back patio. "You could take some time off and relax. Get some much-needed fresh air and sunshine. Eat your meals slowly. Watch movies." There's a look in her eyes that tells me she's really not used to doing anything for herself. "I've been incredibly overworked lately," I continue, groaning. "Having a houseguest would be a perfect excuse for me to take some time off myself."

Remy thinks about that, her tightly clasped hands turning over on themselves.

"Plus, I got a text about a horse we've been keeping an eye on for a while. My friend tried to buy it from the owner, but he said it was his late wife's and he couldn't bear to part with it."

Remy smiles softly. "But you think he might sell it to another woman?"

"Exactly."

"Are you sure I'm not in your way?"

"Are you kidding?" I grin, taking her hands in mine. "You're my excuse to open the good coffee. To make a real breakfast. I swear, this is a vacation for me as well."

Finally, she relaxes, smiling. "Okay. For a couple of days, at least."

"Good."

I build a fire in the pit near the deck, then sit close to her on the bench. She looks up in wonder at the silky black sky with its myriad bright pinpricks of light. "I've never seen so many stars," she murmurs.

“No light pollution. Plus, the air is cleaner. It's just plain healthier out here in the country. You can eat veggies pulled from the garden just yesterday."

"Yes, I taste the difference," she says with a grin. This girl is even more beautiful in the firelight, and I keep sneaking glances at her perfect lips.

A breeze picks up, and she shivers. I slide closer, swinging my arm out behind her shoulders. "I'm always warm. Want to snuggle in?"

She stares at the front of my blue plaid flannel shirt. It's killing me not to simply pull her against me, but I truly have to let her make the first move.

I hate that I'm treating Remy like a skittish horse, but it's the best thing for this situation.

She looks into my eyes as if she's scanning my soul. Finally she slides in, and I wrap my arm tight so she's cuddled against my chest. Instantly my palm begins to run along her arm and the back of her shoulder. I dip my head to whisper into her hair, "You feel really good against me, beautiful."

Her head snaps up, blinking at me like a startled fawn. "Sorry," I say instantly. "Would you rather I not call you beautiful?"