Page 80 of Dust Storm

“I agree,” I said, taking her by surprise.

“You do?”

I nodded. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t bring women back to the house.”

“I already live here,” she whispered.

And damn if I wasn’t tempted to break my rule…

“I don’t bring temporary hook-ups into this house. Not while the girls live here. I’ve worked hard to give them stability and security. I don’t jeopardize that?—”

Her lips called to me. I wanted to see that lipstick smeared. I wanted to hear those breathy moans. I wanted to hear her beg. I wanted my hands all over the body I had commanded to come.

“—no matter how much I want to.”

A soft, amusing exhale whispered from between her lips. “Then it’s a good thing that I haven’t gotten rid of the ring yet.”

I growled, listening to her laugh as she disappeared into her room.

Great. Another fucking boner.

17

CASSANDRA

“You’re up early,” Christian said with a raised eyebrow as he zipped up a lunchbox that was speckled with daisies.

I stole the coffee pot out from the machine and dumped the remnants into a mug. “I need to go into town.”

Christian was taking his girls to school this morning because he had to go do something farm-y, and I was going to hitch a ride.

He paused, trapping me between his chest and the corner of the kitchen counters when I replaced the coffee pot. “Don’t take this the wrong way?—”

I smirked over the lip of my mug. “Famous last words.”

“But you’re going into town like that?”

I knew exactly what he was getting at. My hair was tied in a low chignon, and I didn’t have a speck of makeup on.

“I’m going to the hair salon.” The coffee was warm and fortifying. “When you’re going behind enemy lines, it’s best to wear a disguise.”

“Ah. That reconnaissance you were talking about. What are the silver beehives saying these days?”

I laughed under my breath. “That’s for me to know and for you to accept when I give you my ranch revitalization plan.”

He reached out, looped a loose tendril of hair around his finger, and grazed my cheek. “You’re gonna let a legally blind seventy-year-old with a pair of scissors touch this?”

I studied the way his beard hid most of his mouth. The way silver streaked the strands of hair by his temples.

“I’m going to let her wash it, style it, and talk my ear off. Then I’ll go next door to the cosmetics store and sit still while an employee makes me look like a 90s country music star.”

His laugh was low and full of amusement. “You know, I always had a thing for Faith Hill.” He reached over and zipped up the second lunchbox, never taking his eyes off me. “But just for the record—” he paused with his mouth beside my ear. “I like your freckles.”

I pressed a hand to my cheek when he disappeared to make sure the girls were getting ready. I had been out in the sun a little more than usual and it had made my freckles come out.

Usually I kept them hidden beneath a full face of makeup, but I had been toning it down.

No one saw me around here. I was basically in witness protection. What was the point in wearing makeup?

---