Page 6 of Sweet Like Whiskey

My head cocks back, and I look at the man again. “You…”

Spinning out through the doorway, I stomp back across the house and throw the front door wide. I make my way to my mother’s, the woman herself back behind the small cottage she now lives in directly next to the ranch house. She’s snapping pole beans off the vine, the last of the crop, and dropping them into a bowl beside her.

“Ma,” I call.

She looks up at my approach, not even flinching when the gate slams behind me. “Mm?”

“Ashley isnota woman.”

My mom stands to her full height, an impressive six feet. She’s a couple inches shorter than me, but it doesn’t feel it as she stares me down. “And this is a problem why?”

“It’s not a problem. You just said—”

“I never said Ashley was a woman,” she cuts in.

“But…”

“Jackson Darling,” my mom says, hands landing on her hips, her tone bordering on dangerous. “Surely my second-oldest son isn’t implying a woman needs to be the one doing the cooking and cleaning.”

“Of course not—”

“Andsurely,” she goes on, “you don’t have a problem with a man named Ashley being in your employ.”

“What?” I ask, feeling turned around and upside down. “Of course not, I just—”

“Then I don’t know what your problem is,” she finishes, dusting her hands on her pants.

“I just… He just…”

With a groan, I turn on my heel and head out of my mother’s garden. I hear hermhmfollowing me, but I pay it no mind, my anger or surprise or I-don’t-know-what slowly dissolving as I make my way back to the main house. I close the front door and let out a breath before striding toward the kitchen.

My dad and Ashley stop talking the moment I step through the doorway, the former raising an eyebrow, the latter giving me a cautious look.

“Sorry,” I say, plunking my thermos down on the counter and holding out my hand. “Jackson Darling.”

Ashley accepts my handshake. “Ash Alcott,” he says, voice smooth and warm, just like his palm.

I drop it, nodding briskly. “Welcome to Darling Ranch, Ash. My mom said she talked to you about the job duties?”

“A bit,” he says, tucking his hair behind his ear in a way that has me fighting a groan. “You need someone to cook meals for the…cowboys?”

His tentative question has my dad huffing a laugh. “I’ll leave you boys to it,” he says, patting Ash on the shoulder before turning to me. With his back to our guest, he waggles his eyebrows.

I fight another groan, shooing my dad away. The menace is laughing as he leaves the kitchen.

“Ranchers is fine,” I answer. “You’re not from around here, I take it?”

“What gave me away?” Ash asks, a mild smile on his face.

Everything.

“Nothing,” I answer. “Why don’t we walk while I go over the job? I can show you around.”

“Sure,” he says, setting his coffee mug down. It’s still half full.

“Want a thermos for that?”

“Oh, uh…”

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