Page 13 of Ranch Life At Heart
“I don’t need more complications,” I tiredly state.
“No, but you definitely need help, or you won’t be able to keep everything up and running, sweetie.” I know my friend is right.
My gaze is drawn to movement outside. Cedar is dumping the contents of the wheelbarrow on the muck heap and walks right back into the stable. He’s ditched his leather jacket and doesn’t care for shit he’s wearing his leather boots and jeans.
“Fine,” I find myself saying. “I’ll endure his presence and see how long this will work out. But if he brings up the pasture or anything businesswise, gets on my nerve, or interferes with my shit in any way…he’s out.”
Daphne’s voice is fierce when she states, “You’re the boss, Rosy. It’s your ranch, your decision.”
“Yeah,” I drag out the word when I see Cedar push another load to the muck heap.
Damn the man works fast. The muscles of his arms flex, pulling his T-shirt tight over his biceps.
“You’re watching him, aren’t you?” Daphne chuckles.
“Shut up,” I murmur and watch Cedar’s jean clad ass just before he disappears again.
“You know, being the boss can have its perks. Accept what the man is offering, Rosy. Enjoy whatever you like. Hell, offer him the guestroom or your own bed for that matter. Life is what you make it and fuck the rules, obligations, or vendettas that keep dragging the past into the here and now. Draw a line and decide what’s important in life. For you it’s the ranch, your health, and your state-of-mind. See what I did there?” I can hear the smile in her voice. “You always put the ranch first, yourself second. Cedar might be offering it in the same order…working the ranch and then you.”
“I’m hanging up now,” I tell her with a fake grumble while my eyes stray back to the man in question.
Fuck. He’s ditched his shirt and is mucking the damn stalls bare-chested.
“Okay, I need a picture of what the hell you’re looking at. You’re moaning way too loud.” Daphne snickers.
“Hanging up for real,” I tell her and pull the phone away to end the call.
I huff out another breath when I see Cedar wipe away the sweat from his forehead. I grumble a curse or two and head for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Walking out the door, I come to an abrupt stop when I see Cedar cup his hands and scoop up some water from the automatic waterer and bring it to his mouth.
It’s a weird sight. I mean, I do it myself all the time, but I never thought Cedar or anyone from the Stellan ranch would drink water without a bottle or a glass. Something fancy since everything is fancy at that place.
“I guess you don’t need a bottle,” I state with a hint of a smile in my voice.
The grin I get in return makes my stomach flop.
“What’s good enough for the horse is just as good for us,” he states, and I couldn’t agree more.
It shows how he’s used to the work, and it’s quite the difference from his father. Cecil Stellan has paid help for everything. He surely won’t cup his hands to get a drink from the horse’s automatic waterer. Hell, he wouldn’t be thirsty from working up a sweat to muck the stalls.
Which also makes me wonder. “Why were you staying at the bed and breakfast? You could have easily stayed at your father’s ranch. Are you still staying there?”
Cedar shrugs. “The place is big enough, but I like my own space.”
I must be insane when I find myself saying, “I have a guestroom. It’s yours if you want it.”
His smile is easy and genuine. I can feel my body reacting to him, knowing how well he made me feel a few nights ago.
Clearing my throat, I add, “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. If you’re up before me, make sure the coffee is strong. I hate when coffee is brewed with not enough grounds in relation to the amount of water.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbles.
I let my gaze glide over his sweaty muscled torso and quickly turn away as I open the bottle of water and guzzle down half. Shit. It doesn’t quench my thirst at all. Not the way licking and riding Cedar’s body would do the trick.
Letting the door fall shut behind me, I close my eyes and know deep down the decision to offer this man the job and room was either brilliant or a disaster waiting to explode.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Three days later
