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CHAPTER NINE

REINE

I don’t even make it three steps down the aisle before Cole’s arms snake around my waist and pull me flush against his chest. He kisses me like he owns the air in my lungs, tongue sliding in, hungry and slow, and I melt all over again. It’s only the threat of Louise’s boots echoing from the office that keeps me from climbing him like a tree and dry-humping his thigh until one or both of us combusts.

He must sense it, because he eases up, laughing against my mouth, his hands trailing heat along my ribcage. “You keep looking at me like that, Montana, and we’re going to have to find an empty stall and finish this.”

“Don’t tempt me, Texas,” I fire back, but my voice comes out as more of a whimper than a threat.

The next two hours are pure torture. Cole works through chores like a pro. He out-hauls, out-sweats, and out-jokes every guy on the crew, which is really saying something because I have a barn full of world-class shit-talkers. He’s got this laid-back alpha energy that makes the hands work harder while somehow feeling like they’re getting away with murder. By noon, even my most ancient ranch hand is shooting him sly grins and calling him “boss.”

I try to hide in the office and work on bills, but the paperwork blurs in front of me. Every time I look up, I see Cole hauling feed or charming Grams or doing some other back-breaking job. He tosses his head back when he laughs, exposing that perfect line of stubble down his throat, and I get these hot flashes that are annoying as hell. I want to drag him into the tack room and lick the sweat off his collarbone. The mental image is so sharp I nearly moan out loud.

By three, the chores are winding down, and so is my willpower. I keep catching myself in the office window, staring at Cole like a stalker, then yanking my eyes away before anyone can call me on it.

He finds me in the barn kitchen, reheating a cup of coffee for the third time. He grins when he sees me, big and loose and cocky. “It wouldn’t get cold if you drank it,” he teases, nodding at the steaming cup in my hand.

“I get busy and forget about it.” I’ve been too busy staring at him to drink the coffee. I pretend to concentrate on stirring the hot liquid, but I’m really just catching peeks at the rough cut of his jaw and the way his jeans cling to every inch of his muscular body.

The urge to close the gap and taste him is so strong, I barely resist it. But before I can move, the back door slams open and Louise barrels in, boots stomping, arms full of paperwork.

I leap back like I’ve been electrocuted. “We were just⁠—”

“Messing around?” Louise’s eyes twinkle as she dumps the paperwork on the table. “Spare me the details. I was your age once.”

Cole just winks and pulls her chair out for her to sit down.

Louise gives me a look that says, “You better not screw this up,” and starts shuffling through the mail. She acts like she doesn’t notice the nuclear tension in the room, but I’m not fooled. That woman sees everything.

I try to act normal, but my pulse doesn’t get the memo. “I need to finish up and turn off my computer,” I mumble and dump my way-overheated cup of coffee down the drain. After washing the cup, I head back to my office with Cole following behind me.

The barn is empty, just the two of us and the echo of our footsteps on gravel. He waits until we’re in the farthest, darkest stall before turning to face me. The sun slants through the window, casting gold stripes across his chest. I can’t look away.

“I can’t resist you.” He closes the gap, his hands settling on my hips. He leans down and kisses me. This time it’s gentle, unhurried, like he’s savoring the taste. It’s not the wild, desperate kiss from before; it’s sweeter, somehow. My heart does a slow somersault.

We stand there for a long moment, just holding each other. I lose track of time, the world narrowing to the heat of his hands and the solid press of his chest against mine.

There’s a long, slow exhale as Cole drags his lips along my hairline. I could stand here forever, pressed tight against him, letting the world slide away until it’s just the two of us melting together. But eventually, he hooks his finger under my chin and gives me that stupid, heart-melting grin that turns my bones to liquid.

“C’mon, Montana. Let’s close up the office. I need to get you fed before I throw you on the nearest bale of hay and give your grandmother a heart attack.” His hand never leaves my lower back, guiding me all the way up toward the house, like he’s not planning to let me out of arm’s reach anytime soon. My legs are still jelly, not that I’d ever admit it, but I manage to keep pace.

After turning off my computer and locking the barn office, we walk back toward the ranch house, holding hands like idiots. My brain is still mush. I keep wanting to stop and pull him behind the barn for a quickie, but I somehow hold it together.

We hit the back porch just as Louise comes strutting out of the hallway, dressed to the nines in her Sunday best, blue curls set, and lipstick practically glowing in the kitchen light. I blink a few times, genuinely confused. “You going somewhere, Grams?”

She grabs her purse and rakes us both with a look that says she’s on to every single thing happening between Cole and me. “Yep. Church bingo night. You’ll have to fend for yourselves for supper.”

I gape at her, totally thrown off. “You never play bingo.”

She smirks, fluffing her hair. “I got a feeling I’m getting lucky.” She winks at Cole and glides out the door, heels clicking like she owns the world.

“I love your grandmother. She’s a fucking legend,” Cole whispers, giving my ass a squeeze as soon as the screen door swings shut behind Grams.

I nearly choke on my own tongue. “You need to stop doing that,” I hiss, but I can’t keep the goofy smile off my face.

“Not a chance.” He grins, and before I can think of a comeback, he crowds me up against the kitchen counter, hands braced on either side of the laminate. His eyes drag down my body, slow and hungry, and I swear the temperature in the room jumps ten degrees.

“You realize you smell like the inside of my barn, right?” I try to sound tough, but all that comes out is a breathy little squeak.