Page 12 of Caught By A Cowboy

“That’s not what I asked.” I grip the wheel and feel the blood heat my veins.

“He’s never hit me.” She shakes her head and keeps her eyes fixed on her lap. “We should probably stop by a grocery store on the way home. I need to get some supplies if I’m gonna attempt dinner.” She laughs, but her attempt to be cheery doesn't distract me.

“Maddison, I asked if he’d ever hurt you?” I refuse to back down from this, I need answers.

“Adam can be hard work if he’s under too much stress or if he’s had too much to drink. But–”

“Don’t make excuses for him, answer the damn question. Has he hurt you?” I ask again, getting more frustrated by the second.

“There have been times when he’s been a little heavy-handed, but–-”

“Stop! Stop sayingbut.” My knuckles turn white.

“I can be difficult sometimes.” She laughs, still trying to play things down again.

“It’s not a joke. He had no right to try dragging you out the car the way he did, and I’ve got a good mind to go back there and–”

“Don’t!” Her hand reaches over toward the wheel and rests on top of mine. “The last thing I wanna do is go back. Just take me home.” She smiles; and the fact she just called where we’re heading home, combined with the pretty, little gleam of excitement I see in her eyes, makes my shoulders relax.

“Okay.” I even manage a smile back at her.

“Try this.” I hand her the potato peeler when I step into the kitchen and find her using a carving knife.

‘I wondered what that thing was.” She laughs as she takes it from me and gets back to work.

“I think the boys are going to really like this.” She keeps her eyes on the job and when I pick up a potato and a much smaller knife so I can help, she shakes her head.

“No, you’ve done enough for me, today.” She takes them both from my hand. “You drove for over eight hours, with barely any rest stops.” She makes her way to the fridge and pulls out a beer. “You deserve this.”

“I appreciate that but I got six men out there waiting to be fed,” I remind her. I can see she’s making an effort, but dinner is always served at six-thirty.

“I totally got this. I got a recipe up on my phone. I’ve seasoned the chicken, and it’s in the oven. I’m serving up a big bowl of mashed potato and I’ll get working on that sweetcorn when I’m done here. Go rest,” she orders me with that sassy look on her face.

Holding up my hands, I take a step back and pull out a chair from the table.

I’m a man who never rests. There are plenty of things I could be doing around here, but I’d much rather watch her bustle around my kitchen.

“Hey, Cheerio.” Linc winks as he steps through the door and takes a seat beside me. It’s not until the noise picks up in the room, and Maddison places a huge bowl of mashed potatoes in front of me, that I realize how much time I’ve wasted just watching her.

“Breakfast was a learning curve. I promise I’m trying to improve.” She proudly puts down a tray of chicken in the center of the table as all the boys pile in and load up their plates. Then standing back to rest against the counter, she watches on andsighs contently as they all dig in. The girl’s so beautiful, I wanna lift her onto that counter and fuck her till everyone in the room gets the hint that she’s mine.

“Mmmm, this is good.” Carter nods his head as he shovels another fork full into his mouth.

“Great chicken, Mads.” Kyle flicks his eyes across the table to me continuing to chew, and when I look over to Grayson expectantly, he rolls his eyes and grumbles something under his breath.

“It’s good.” He eventually tips his chin at her.

Every single one of them is a liar. The chicken’s burned dry, and I don’t know what the hell she put with these potatoes, but it tastes all kindsa strange.

“Well, since you're all enjoying it, I’m going to go run myself a nice, warm bath.” She leaves the room pleased with herself and soon as she’s out of sight, Kyle spits his chicken back on his plate.

“Boss…” He widens his eyes at me.

“I know.” I look around the table at all their pissed faces. “She’s gonna get better, this is all new to her, and it’ll beat having to pick up from the diner every night.”

“I’ve never known someone hire a cook who can’t cook,” Grayson points out. “I wouldn’t feed this shit to my horse.”

“Okay. I’m hearing ya. Just give the girl a little time, she’s going through some stuff and this ain’t what she’s used to.”

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