Page 43 of Snowed In with the Rancher

She tipped an imaginary Stetson at him. “You’re quickly turning this city slicker into a country girl with all these beautiful animals and orgasms there, cowboy.”

“Rancher.”

She petted Mercy and led him easily out of the corral, throwing Asher a wink as she headed back into the barn. “Potato, poh-tah-to, right, Mercy?”

Now why did he not hate the idea of her becoming a country girl, and more importantly, why did he really want to be the one to help her achieve it and do it right here on his ranch?

After making sure the animals were all fed, brushed and given the attention they needed, Asher apologized by way of three screaming orgasms to Triss in the shower, on the bathroom counter and in his bed.

She would say he was redeemed and then some, especially since she had to hang onto the wall when she went downstairs since her legs were made of Jell-O.

“I just got a text from my sister, Oona, so I’m going to video chat with her in my room,” Triss said to Asher, who was busy in the kitchen. He said that, although he didn’t have a turkey or any of the trimmings, he did have two nice steaks, potatoes, and some broccoli that he could cook for Christmas dinner.

Triss’s mouth watered at the thought of a baked potato loaded with sour cream and bacon bits, so she nodded eagerly at his suggestion.

He also boasted a “kickass” rub which was going to “knock her socks off” so he was busy in the kitchen doing that.

“Sounds good,” he said over his shoulder.

It was weird stepping into her bedroom, well, the guest room that was her room for the duration of her stay. It no longer felt like her space.

How could that be when she’d only been here three nights and barely knew Asher?

Ignoring the buzzing and tingly along her arms at that weird feeling of belonging more in Asher’s bed than in the guest room, she opened up her tablet and called her sister.

Oona answered on the third ring. “Merry Christmas, you sexy beast,” Oona said with a grin. Her eyes were slightly glazed over and she had a red and silver tinsel tiara on her head.

“Oon, have you been drinking?”

“Sure fucking have, big sis. Rum and eggnog and some delicious mulled wine. One of my colleagues is having a ‘friends Christmas dinner’ for all of us losers without families to go visit.”

“At least you’re not alone,” Triss said, grabbing the blanket draped over the bottom of the bed and snuggling her legs under it. “I miss you.”

“Miss you, too,” Oona said, sipping from a wine glass. Triss could see a wedge of orange and a cinnamon stick floating in the dark red liquid. “Have you had a good day so far?”

“So far so good,” Oona said, then she pouted. “Rayma and Pasha told me Lorne dumped you. That motherfucker. I’ve already left a one-star Yelp review on his and that Echo bitch’s restaurant. I’ve gotten my friends here to do the same.”

Triss tried to hide the smile that threatened to curl her mouth. “You guys really shouldn’t do that. We don’t want to hurt the owners of the restaurant or the rest of the staff. It’s not their fault Lorne is a dick.”

“We thought of that,” Oona said, her smile sly and proud. “We specifically said the food by Lorne Waring was gross. That when he was in the kitchen, we’d rather eat a French fry we found under the passenger seat of our car.”

“Oon …” Triss chuckled. “He’s going to know I had something to do with it.”

She shrugged. “Then he shouldn’t have dumped you in such a dickish fashion. We protect what’s ours. Mieka left a review, too.”

“How is Mieks?”

“Living it up on a cruise ship and banging first officers. How do you think she is?”

Triss rolled her eyes. “Right. I forget that our sister, the dancer, is gorgeous, bendy and the life of the party.”

“Who can drink every single one of us under the table and not gain a fucking pound.”

“Don’t remind me,” Triss said blandly.

“But, back to you being dumped by the douche. How are you doing?” Oona’s brown eyes took a second to focus, but eventually they did and concern shone back at Triss. “Rayma said you’re in Colorado with a naked cowboy?”

Triss rolled her eyes again. “Yes, I’m in Colorado, on a ranch and he’s a rancher not a cowboy and last I checked he was wearing clothes.”

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