Page 20 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

Melissa gives him an amused glance. “You’re really working me over here, aren’t you?”

“The purpose is to teach you how to multitask,” he shoots back. “Talking and riding, roping a calf and riding…”

“Wait, roping a calf? Why on earth would I need to do that?”

Mitch laughs lightly. “It’s what ranch girls do.”

“I think I’d rather stick to cooking,” she mutters, but she doesn’t get off the mare. Instead, she keeps riding and getting to know Isabella better with every completed circle.

I lose myself in the details for a long minute. The jeans hug her thighs tightly, while the dark blue parka with a furry collar hides her curvy figure—but I remember those full hips, the firm, plump breasts, the inviting wetness between her legs.

Dammit, Ethan might be right. Melissa could be the nail in our coffin in so many ways. It’s been a while since we’ve been enthralled with the same woman. I like it, though. It says good things about Melissa. I dare hope she’ll join us for the ride.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Ethan reminds her. A smile tests the corner of his mouth as soon as she looks at him again. “I’m curious.”

“I was working as a sous chef at a restaurant in Lincoln,” she says.

“What restaurant?” I ask. “I know Lincoln pretty well.”

“The Sommelier,” she replies.

We’ve been there a couple of times while visiting the city. It’s a pretty high-end locale, with French cuisine and a discerning wine selection. “So, cooking is your calling,” I conclude.

“Pretty much. I’ve always been good at it,” Melissa says. “It keeps my mind quiet, and I love it when I get a dish right, from execution to aftertaste. The Sommelier was a wonderful experience. We had a French chef heading that kitchen. I learned a lot from the guy.”

“I’m still trying to figure out how you went from sous chef at a fancy French restaurant to drug-running felon,” Ethan says.

Melissa ignores him. Instead, she looks at Mitch. “How do I gently stop her?”

“Just pull on the reins. She knows,” he replies.

Slowly, Isabella comes to a halt, and Mitch, ever the gentleman, goes over to assist her as she dismounts. His hands linger on her hips, and she briefly peers deep into his eyes. I see it then. The spark. The much-needed spark that makes me think she’s anything but indifferent to the three of us. It makes Ethan’s apparently intrusive probing all the more important, despite its unpleasantness.

“We all do stupid things,” Melissa says to Ethan, her brow slightly furrowed. She doesn’t look as angry with that brown wool cap on, but I know she’s bubbling just beneath the surface. I reckon she’d make a fiery lover. “My stupidity was trusting the wrong man.”

“Not here to judge,” Ethan replies. “Just trying to get to know you better.”

“I thought Darla told you everything,” she sighs.

“Your conversations with Darla stay between the two of you. We respect each other’s privacy on this ranch,” I gently cut in.

Melissa stares at me. My guess is she’s probably wondering if I kept the bathroom incident to myself. I kept the details to myself, but I couldn’t hide the palpable chemistry from Ethan and Mitch, not when the three of us are drawn to her more and more each day.

“I appreciate that,” she says. “Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to the house. I could ride Isabella again tomorrow, if you want me to.”

“Do you want to ride Isabella again?” I ask, smiling broadly. She nods enthusiastically. “Then it’s a date,” I shoot back and get Apex into motion. “Come on, boy, let’s go for a ride.”

“Hold on, let me take Isabella back to the stable and I’ll join you!” Mitch says.

“You can catch up,” Ethan chuckles and gently heels Elias into a trotting rhythm beside me.

As the days go by and the winter establishes a firm hold on the land, my brothers and I find ourselves looking for work to do around the house more and more. With the field work we did over the summer, there isn’t much left for us to do in the winter, except take care of the cattle and horses and patrol the fences every day. Both tasks are often left to Kyle and Jason, occasionally accompanied by Sammy, while Ethan, Mitch, and I focus more on any home improvement projects and ranch business affairs.

Melissa is part of the family already, though she hasn’t realized it yet. I have a hard time staying away from her. Ethan and Mitch, too. We’re not too subtle about it either, a fact that Darla hasn’t failed to notice.

“You three are incorrigible,” she whispers to me one afternoon.

The two of us are in the kitchen at the breakfast table, poring over recent paperwork that needs some untangling while Melissa is prepping the meat for tonight’s dinner. There are two pots simmering on the stove—preserves for the upcoming Christmas holidays, their scent fills the room and makes my soul feel warmer with each deep breath.

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