Page 53 of Second Chance with the Rancher

“Cal says he can pick up a crate tonight and drop it off at one of the cabins. I’m keen to get these things set up. You interested in riding out there with me tonight?”

“Tonight?” Mieka squeaked.

“We’ll take the ATV so we can haul more stuff and not make the horses sleep outside tethered to the hitching post.”

“We’re going to spend the night out there?” Confusion and unease swirled through her. Not because she was afraid to be alone with Nate because she didn’t trust him. She was afraid to be alone with Nate because she didn’t trust herself. She wanted him, he wanted her, and he was hell-bent on wooing her. He wanted to take her on a “proper date” for God’s sake.

Plus, there was that chemistry that they had. That undeniable, practically tangible chemistry that, if shaken too vigorously, would probably blow up the entire county. She knew that the more time she spent with him, particularly alone, the less she’d be able to deny, let alone avoid that chemistry. And then the explosion was inevitable.

“Yeah. There’s a futon and a bed in the crate. I’ll set those up first.” His mouth turned up into a cheeky smile. “You have somewhere else to be, Minx?”

“Well, I am teaching Hank how to dance, so …”

“We’ll be back in a few days. You still have loads of time to teach the big lug how to do the cha-cha.” He squeezed her shoulder as she held the rest of her burger in mid-air and gaped at him. “I’m going to go pack. You should do the same. And we’ll grab food, too.”

He disappeared, and Mieka pivoted in her seat with dinner-platter eyes and her mouth still open to stare at her sister. “What the fuck?”

Triss shrugged. “Welcome to ranch life, where the cowboys spring this shit on you all the damn time.”

“Ranchers,” Asher murmured.

An hour later, Mieka was plastered tightly against Nate’s back on the ATV, her arms around his waist as they raced through the field toward the woods and hills. They had a trailer behind them with all their stuff—clothes, bedding, food, water, toiletries etcetera, as well as Nate’s tools and a few things that didn’t fit in the crate. Since it was mid-May they didn’t have to worry about dusk setting anytime soon, and the warmth from the late-day sun bored into her back, making her squeeze her arms around Nate extra tight for just a moment. Then she realized what she was doing and quickly loosened her grip.

But, of course, he felt it and reached for her hands with one of his big ones and encouraged her to tighten her hold again.

Damn him. She could feel each hard ridge and plane of his abs beneath her fingertips and when he tightened his stomach muscles, she nearly had an orgasm.

And he probably knew she nearly came because his chuckle in front of her was deep, raspy and totally knowing.

Damn him.

“I could get used to this,” said her stubborn cat. “Life with the rancher is titillating. Purrrrr.”

She told her cat to shut the fuck up and ignored her damp panties as best she could as she climbed off the back of the ATV and away from the hot, solid wall of Nate.

They’d made it to the first cabin in no time. The helicopter flew by overhead and circled back, while Nate gave instructions on a radio. Soon, the enormous crate came flying over the treetops and was slowly lowered into a clearing. Nate stepped forward, continuing to give Cal instructions. He reached up and guided the crate softly to the ground, unhooked it from it’s tethers and with the finesse of a true expert, Cal lifted off again and disappeared.

“Thanks, Cal,” Nate said into the radio.

“No problem. Just let me know when you want me to grab the next ones.”

“Appreciate it, bro.” Nate gave a wave to the sky, even though Cal was already gone from sight.

“That was smooth,” Mieka said, handing Nate the crowbar from the trailer so he could pry open the crate.

“Cal is the best of the best. He used to fly helicopters with us on missions. He and Wark.”

“And where is Wark now?” God, she hoped he wasn’t going to say that Wark was dead. She crossed her fingers behind her back, immediately regretting her question and the can of worms it could have possibly opened.

“Married and living the life on the Oregon coast with his brilliant billionaire scientist wife. He retired and now makes furniture as a hobby. I’d have loved to get him to make all the stuff for the cabin, but there just wasn’t time. Man is anal retentive about detail and a dresser takes him fucking months. Asher’s already commissioned a few pieces for their new place when it gets built. Dining table, coffee table, that kind of shit.” He opened the crate and unloaded, handing things to Mieka, who took it all up to the front porch of the cabin, then used the key Nate gave her to unlock it and begin hauling everything inside.

She released her pensive exhale and uncrossed her fingers, saying a small thank you to the universe that Wark was okay and living his best life.

The sun was lower in the sky by the time they got everything into the tiny cabin, making the already shoebox size space feel like a shoebox for a mouse.

“I’ll start up in the loft,” he said, making multiple trips up the ladder with boxes. “I’ll put the bed frame together, then we can open up this magical memory foam mattress you were so excited about.”

The way he said that she was excited about a mattress sent all kinds of thoughts—most of them dirty—careening through her mind. And he must have picked up on her thought shift because his eyelids dropped to half-mast and the smile that curled his mouth made her toes curl and her belly get warm.

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