Page 12 of The Cowboy's Close Quarters Claim

I'm surprised I'm awake.

God only knows where my clothes are, so I grab one of the blankets off the pile and wrap it around myself.

I'll have to wait till sun-up to make sense of things in the little shack. I don't want to risk waking Gunner up with a flashlight or a lantern.

He'd want to start all over.

And God help me...I'd let him.

Shaking my head like it'll help clear last night out of my thoughts, I slip on my boots and make my way out to the outhouse.

The pungent smell of skunk is still strong out here, but at least it's cleared up enough that my eyes aren't watering anymore.

When I return from doing my business, the morning sun is just beginning to emerge above the tall peaks to the east. Shadows are starting to retreat, and the chill in the air is turning from biting to pleasantly crisp.

Gunner's still sleeping, so I take the moment to enjoy the dawn. Still wrapped in the blanket with my body feeling well-used and properly sore from last night, the implications of what I've done start to come into clarity along with the features of the landscape in the gaining light.

Sleeping with Gunner was stupid thing to do.

He's not just another worker around the ranch, not a seasonal hand that'll be on his way in a couple of months. He's my boss.

Maybe not the brother that hired me, but just as powerful. Just as much in control of my employment with the Delta O as Ranger or any of the younger brothers.

And I'm not just a seasonal hand on the Delta O, either. I landed a solid position here. I've got a team here that answers to me and those men and women respect me.

By the time I hear Gunner up and about inside the small cabin, I know last night has to be nothing but a fond memory that'll keep me warm on lonely nights in the future.

When the door pushes open, I slip around the far side of the building to avoid having to face him just yet. Then I rush inside, grab my things, and get dressed.

By the time Gunner's out of the outhouse and looking ready to get a start on our day, I've already got the horses saddled and the supplies ready.

"Is sleeping in something you do often, O'Leary?"

I toss one of the foil-wrapped breakfast burritos I heated over the fire at him. We're getting another day off to a late start, and I'm not about to sit tight while the man chokes down a packet of quick cook oatmeal and tries to tell me it's breakfast.

"Sorry. Rough night."

Damn that smile.

After he unwraps the foil and sees what's inside, he looks up at me with that wide grin. The one that deepens those lines by his eyes and erases the furrow between his brows. The one that makes it too damn easy to forget why it's such a stupid idea to fuck the boss.

"Where I come from, rough nights make piss poor excuses for loose cattle. Grab your shit and let's go. I don't want to be out here another night."

If he thought he was about to lean in for a kiss, the man is out of his damn mind. I make a quick escape, stepping up in the stirrup and swinging my leg over the saddle before he closes the distance between us.

Gunner stops short and takes up the reins of his horse.

The furrow between his brows is back. The one that steals the boyishness from his features and gives him a grizzled look that's grown on me since my first impression.

Grumpy shouldn't look that sexy on a man.

He glares up at me without saying a word at first. He gives me a smug little smirk when he sees me adjust myself on the hard leather saddle-- like he knows it's because I'm sore from last night, and he's proud to be the reason for it.

Gunner

Something'sup with her this morning, for sure. Clem's actin' skittish on me, avoiding letting me get too close to her.

Whatever's up, I'll give her some time to work through it, but if she thinks I'm going to be some one night stand she can carve into her saddle horn, she's sadly mistaken.

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