Page 18 of Stranded with a Bossy Rancher

She blows a breath, and her bangs go all crazy. “Well, I snore.”

“I don’t care.”

“I have to get up and pee a thousand times a night.”

I shrug. “I don’t mind.”

She stutters. “I’ll crowd you. I’m a snuggler.”

I pull her tighter against me and nuzzle my nose into her neck. “Fuck, I hope so.”

But even though I feel like I say all the right things and how I feel, she still sounds doubtful. “Are you sure about this?”

I cup her face in my hands. “Am I sure that I want to sleep with you in my arms? I’m absolutely one hundred percent sure. You can’t leave, Camille.”

She rolls against me, pressing her breast to my chest before snuggling into me. “You’re bossy, do you know that?”

I kiss the top of her head. “You like it, and you know it.”

She doesn’t deny it. If anything, she burrows deeper into my warmth. I have to keep telling myself that she has said she doesn’t want a relationship, but I want more than a one-night stand with her. Somehow I have to convince her that we are meant to be together.

CHAPTER 10

CAMILLE

I wokeup this morning to an empty bed.

I tried not to let it get to me. Elliott did leave a note that said a storm is coming, and sometime in the night it started to rain. It hasn’t stopped all morning. He has a good excuse for being absent, but it still makes me uneasy.

I keep waiting for Elliott to come in the door, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react. There were no promises made, and we didn’t do much talking. Should I act as if nothing happened or should I act how I would want to and kiss him? There are so many questions, but luckily I’ve been busy all morning and haven’t had time to dwell on it.

The phone rings. I hit the answer button to put the caller on speaker phone and keep typing as I talk into the phone. “Barnett Ranch. How can I help you?”

“Hello. Is this Camille Trotter?”

My fingers stop moving across the keyboard, and I stare at the phone. I’m not sure why someone would be calling for me here,but just as quickly, I know I’m being ridiculous. It could be a vendor or anyone that I talked to yesterday.

I sit up a little taller. “Yes, this is Camille Trotter. How may I help you?”

The man’s voice on the line changes a little and gets a little deeper. “Hello, Camille. This is Mitch with theDaily Gazette,and I’m wondering if you’d like to comment about your relationship with Elliott Barnett.”

“Excuse me?” I say, frowning at the phone.

“What can you tell me about your relationship with Mr. Barnett?”

My heart starts to race, and my hands get clammy. “Nothing. There’s no relationship between Elliott—I mean Mr. Barnett—and myself. He’s my boss.”

I say it, but it doesn’t feel right saying those words. Elliott may want to forget last night and act like it didn’t happen, but I won’t be able to.

The man continues. “The pictures don’t lie, Ms. Trotter. Is he the father of your baby?”

I gasp with an uneasy feeling. “How do you even know about that?”

“So you are pregnant and dating Mr. Elliott Barnett? Can you tell me how long this relationship has been going on?”

“I, I…” I start to stutter and then hit the hang up button in a panic.

My mind starts to run a thousand miles a minute, and I recall him saying pictures. What did he mean by pictures?

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