Ropin' Hearts: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 4 (15 page)

Damn. He didn’t want to be evicted from that special space. He wanted to sink his roots deep and build a foundation.

He stopped. The shovel dropped from his hands and he stared toward the ridge.

When had it happened? Sometime between him growling commands and having her soft and begging, he’d allowed her into
his
heart too.

He backhanded his eyes. Damn.

He slid his boot under the shovel handle and lifted it into his hands again. But ten shovelfuls only convinced him that he couldn’t leave things as they were.

Fifteen more and he came to the conclusion that it was a good thing he couldn’t work with a client this week. Ten more and he knew he’d be worthless next week too.

He threw down the shovel and hopped on the tractor. While he drove back to the outbuilding and then stored the farm equipment, he thought of how to word his request to his bosses.

All those words fled the minute he stood in Hugh’s office with the big oak desk between them.

“Jeezus, not again.” Hugh raked his fingers through his hair.

Riggs entered from a room in the rear, curiosity on his dark features. “Is this about Elliot?”

“No.” Ty danced from foot to foot.

“Just say it,” Hugh demanded.

“Elliot and I are fine. We made amends a little bit ago.”

“Good to hear.” Riggs nodded and came around to lean against Hugh’s desk, positioned between Ty and Hugh, acting as a buffer.

Ty swallowed. “I’d like to request leave.”

Hugh turned to stone. He didn’t move—blink, shift, breathe, itch his nose or fart. His gaze leveled on Ty, and while his eyes were hollow, Ty felt as if he were under the gaze of a pharaoh. A mummified king in a gold coffin who still evoked fear after thousands of years.

He shook himself and Hugh came to life. He tapped his thick finger against his lips. “I have to admit, you’ve blindsided me, Ty. I was so distracted by the Elliot saga I didn’t even see this coming.”

“What?”

“This is about the Roberts girl.”

“Yes. No. Maybe not.”

“Which is it?”

“I dunno. I need the time to figure it out.”

“You realize you signed a contract stating you wouldn’t get involved in a relationship outside of those on the ranch?” Hugh sounded like a lawyer and Ty was on the witness stand.

“I do.” He straightened. “But life is sometimes messier than the words that are used to constrain it.”

Riggs gave a crooked smile then shot Hugh a look. “I forgot he was a valedictorian.”

“Yes, and he’s one of our best damn cowboys on this ranch.”

They were discussing Ty as if he weren’t standing there. He spoke up. “I can be that again. I just need some time to get my head on straight.”

“And what if your head’s always cocked north toward the Roberts place?” Hugh waved toward Ty’s crotch.

He met his boss’s gaze. Hugh was more than a boss, though. He was a friend—a friend who’d done this same thing. Fallen for a woman—and man—who didn’t fit into the wording on the contract.

“That may be the case, but I promise to give you notice if it is.”

“Five days.” Hugh sat back in his big leather chair, arms folded. “You’ve got five days to figure out what you’re doing. I can’t afford more.”

“You got it. Thanks.” Ty shook Riggs’s hand, then Hugh’s. Respect for his bosses was echoed in their expressions. So when Ty left the office, got in his truck and headed up the ridge, he felt a measure of peace.

At last.

The screen door banged behind Bree as she backed out of the house, holding the bucket of food slop for the pigs. She didn’t regularly feed the few pigs they raised for food but Cook was looking a little more tired than usual and Bree had offered.

Carrying the heavy bucket of parings and scraps across the turf, she squinted against the tiny pellets of rain striking her face. It didn’t rain frequently but when it did, it was usually the hard, pounding variety that brought high winds and lightning. It wasn’t often she could enjoy cool rain on her face.

And she seriously needed it after the night she’d had. Tossing in bed until well past three, thinking of Ty and what they’d done together. Replaying their first meeting all the way to her final look at him. The man never did anything by halves—he’d even followed her out of the bunkhouse buck naked.

While his chiseled body was etched in her memory forever, his confused expression was a stake in her heart. Was he really so clueless that he hadn’t realized her reason for leaving?

Maybe so.
Her girlfriends—and even her cousin—said men didn’t have the same way of thinking as women. After her college roommate’s last breakup, she’d called men chickens, so stupid they’d turn around and eat their own droppings. That was a jaded view of the male species Bree didn’t share.

But her cousin’s words were a little fresher in her mind after spending those weeks in Omaha.

“If he hasn’t realized how good you are, you make him see.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then you walk away and see if he comes to his senses.”

Good advice, except Ty hadn’t wanted her in the first place.

But he’d given her everything she’d ever needed. Somehow he’d known what those things were.

Not this time.

Bree rounded the corner of the barn and caught movement at the chicken coop. A dog had his head in the open door.

“Hey! Get outta there.” The animal she’d raised from a pup didn’t respond to her order. She strode toward the coop.

Then the reason the coop door was open emerged—all six foot two of him.

She stopped so fast the contents of the slop bucket spilled over onto her fingers. “Shit.”

Ty.

Her heart lodged in her throat, pounding a wild tattoo.

He looked her over nice and slow, from boots to the tips of her hair follicles. Everything between scorched, pinched, hardened or grew slick. His gaze flicked to her messy fingers.

“Be careful the pigs don’t bite off your fingers when you dump that slop in,” he drawled.

A growl rose in her throat, replacing her heart. She had an urge to slosh the contents over his damn handsome face.

“Just what are you doing cleaning my chicken coop?”

“Boss said it needed doing.”

She sputtered and almost dropped the bucket. “Boss?”

“Yeah, your pa. He hired me on.”

“When?” Blood beat in her temples. What the hell was going on?

“Last night.” A chicken pecked at the leg of his jeans but he didn’t nudge it away as she sometimes did. It should be attacking him. Even the chickens were traitors.

And Daddy.

She glared at Ty. The man looked as out of place here as an albino on the surface of the sun. “You aren’t a hand.”

“Am now.”

“For how long?”

He took a step toward her, and she backed up as his heat washed over her skin. Her senses dulled as he overwhelmed her with his scent and big muscles. And that burning look was in his eyes—the one he wore before he devoured her.

She took another step backward.

“For as long as it takes, baby girl.”

“I…don’t understand.” She didn’t like feeling vulnerable in his presence. How was she ever going to harden her heart against him when he showed up in her life, on her ranch? Doing her chores?

“You know why I’m here, Bree.”

She whirled, slopping more sticky stuff over her fingers, and strode away. Chest burning, she waited for him to overtake her, to demand she look at him.

Or put my ass in the air.

Her skin pebbled as if reaching for his touch.

“No,” she muttered, practically running to the pigpen. When she stepped on the lower rail of the fence and dumped the slop into the hog’s trough, she stole a look around. No Ty.

Turmoil bubbled inside her. What game was he playing now?

Who was she kidding? She loved his games.

But not this one. She needed distance and he hadn’t respected that. He’d barged onto her ranch and asked her daddy for a job. He did what he wanted—when he wanted. Damn if it didn’t turn her on.

Water trickled over her spine, colder and wetter than the light rain. She jumped down and spun—

And was struck in the face by a spray of hose water.

Her nerve endings jumped to attention.

“What are you doing?” she screamed.

“Washing you off before…” His drawl was a lick to her flesh.

“Before what?” She spit out a mouthful of water and turned her head aside. He let the water stream over her breasts, molding the fabric to their curves.

“Before I punish you for being mouthy.” He cut the water and dropped the hose. Came forward. Each roll of muscle ignited her. Her knees sagged, ready to submit.

She steeled her muscles and shook her head. With as much command as she could muster with a cowgirl’s version of a wet plaid-shirt contest, she glared at Ty. “You don’t run things up here.”

“No? I think I have command over you no matter where you are.”

A finger of need teased her pussy but she ignored it and the dark promise in his eyes. “I don’t belong to you.”

“Your body says differently. I see your nipples pointing right at me, begging me to suck them.”

He couldn’t talk to her like this. Anyone could hear them and—

Damn, she wanted him to shove her against the hog barn and make her a boneless puddle.

Well, maybe not the hog barn.

She threw the bucket at him. It bounced off his shin and rolled several feet from his boot. Quivering, she plastered her spine to the fence, waiting for his displeasure.

Aching for it.

What kind of twisted game were they playing?

Whatever it is, I want it. Need it.

“You want to try that again, baby girl?” He came forward, worn jeans pulling tight over his thighs and bulge evident between them.

“No.” How she’d made her voice that strong was beyond her. She could barely breathe.

He bore down on her, but before he crushed his chest to her throbbing nipples and his mouth to hers, she shoved him back. With a sliver of space between them, she ducked and ran. From behind, she heard him call, “You forgot your bucket.”

But she broke toward the house and the refuge of her room. She had to get away from a man who made her feel so off-balance and freaking amazing that she’d do anything for him. If she couldn’t have all of him, what good was the amazing sex and their mindfucks?

She’d wanted nothing more than for him to leave his job and chase her, to love her enough to do that. So why was she pushing him away? Was she testing the strength of his decision, trying to see if he’d leave her?

A hot shower didn’t ease her panic and neither did icy cold. So she threw herself on her bed, wrapped in a fluffy robe, and tried to make sense of her bucking emotions and Ty’s presence.

When the lunch bell sounded, she groaned. She couldn’t face him at the table with her ranch family surrounding them. They’d know what was going on, even if Ty
did
behave. They’d all known Bree long enough to be aware when something was wrong.

A light tap on her door. She got up and stared at the slab, heart thundering. Holding her breath, she opened it.

“Your father sent me to fetch you for lunch.” God, he was delicious, disheveled and dirty.

“I heard the bell,” she snapped at Ty. What the hell? He was coming to her room and her father
knew
it? They’d rounded the bend of crazy and were barreling straight into batshit nuts.

“Then I expect to see you seated across from me in two minutes, Bree.”

Her head fell back. The sound of his voice sent spikes of need through her all over again.

For thirty seconds she stared at the door, wondering what he’d do to her if she didn’t listen. Wondering what he’d do to her if she did.

“Son of a…” She threw off her robe and rushed into a set of clothes. With hair damp and trailing over her shoulders, she took her seat at the long table, wedged between the foreman and a ranch hand.

Directly across from Ty.

Beneath the table, the toe of his boot depressed hers.

As she met his gaze, love bloomed in her soul.

If Ty didn’t get his hands on Miss “Hellion” Roberts soon, he was going to combust. In the past twenty-four hours he’d seen Bree at meals, in the fields and strutting in shorts the size of a postage stamp. The other guys had noticed too, which had nearly caused Ty to crack a tooth grinding them.

Also the clock was ticking and if he didn’t get her to come around soon, he’d be back on the Boot Knockers Ranch, doing a job he no longer liked very well.

How had things changed so quickly? Hell if he knew, but he wasn’t going to go against his instinct now. Not where Bree was concerned.

He stripped off his shirt and stuffed the tail into his back pocket. For some reason the Roberts ranch felt ten degrees hotter than the Boot Knockers Ranch in the valley. Maybe because the breeze was deflected off the mile-long stretch of Roberts trees and funneled into the valley. Or maybe it had everything to do with Bree.

As he worked through his chores, he settled into a rhythm. It wasn’t exactly work befitting his degree, but he wasn’t there to run the ranch. He started around the corner, his mind on a cool glass of sweet tea.

He looked up just as a body slammed into him.

“Oomph!”

He caught her, fingers wrapping around supple curves. She blinked up at him, appearing dazed.

He skimmed a finger over her plump lower lip, hunger erasing thoughts of anything but her. She wrenched free of his hold. Silken strands of hair tumbled into her blazing eyes.

“Don’t you know you aren’t on your ranch anymore? Ranch hands wear shirts,” she snapped.

“I’m feeling mighty hot, Bree.”

“It’s not respectable.” Was it him or did she sound a bit breathless?

“No one’s around to see.”

She sank her teeth into her lower lip and he bit off a groan. Too well he remembered how sharp those pearly whites were. He hardened.

She whirled away and flounced across the yard to the barn. “I’ve got animals to see to.”

“Oh?”

“Daddy asked me to check on a few cows we have split off.” Pride burned in her pretty features. His breath caught.