Page 16 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
“So this path continues on to the main barn,” Ipoint at the stone passage as we walk, my voice remaining neutral. “That’s where we keep the horses for training. Over there is the cattle barn, and past that is the equipment shed. You’ll want to stick to the marked paths until you learn your way around.”
“The ranch is huge.” She sounds genuinely shocked.
“Easy to get lost if you don’t know where you’re going.”
We keep walking, then she says, “So your friends seem nice.”
I almost laugh at the careful way she says it. “They’re good men and my pack. Little rough around the edges, but solid. Rose gave us a chance by hiring us when no one else would.”
That’s when we approach the guesthouse. It’s smaller than the main house but newer, built maybe ten years ago when Rose was thinking about taking in paying guests. Never happened, but we’ve kept it maintained.
“It’s perfect,” she says, smiling at the sight.
“Two bedrooms, full bath, kitchen’s stocked with basics.” I pause in front of the porch steps. “Now, the big building on the other side of the main house is where Cookie holds court,” I continue. “We’ve got a full kitchen and dining hall there. Breakfast at five, lunch at noon, dinner at six. You’re welcome anytime. Cookie makes enough to feed an army, and he’ll be thrilled to have someone new to fuss over.Anyway, your guesthouse keys are on the kitchen table inside.”
“I don’t have to cook? Sounds amazing,” she muses.
“Not unless you get a hankering for it.” I grin. “Most doors are also almost never locked anyway, ranch tradition, but feel free to keep yours locked if you feel safer.”
We stand there, awkward. Then she’s got her hand out for her bag, but I don’t want to give it up yet. Don’t want this to end.
“Well,” she says finally. “Thanks for… everything. Really.”
“Our door’s always open,” I manage. “If you need anything. We’re just…” I gesture vaguely toward the main house. “You know. There.”
Smooth, Winslow. Real smooth.
She wrestles her bag from my grip and heads toward the door. I force myself to walk away, not sprinting like my body wants. About halfway back, I risk a glance over my shoulder.
She’s on the porch, watching me. Our eyes meet and she flushes, disappearing quickly inside.
I grin all the way back to the house.
Ridge and Walker are still in the parlor, now with beers in hand. Ridge tosses me one without asking.
“So.” I collapse onto the couch. “We’ve got ourselves a house guest for three months. Should work out fine.”
“Yeah, if you can keep itin your pants,” Ridge states. “Saw the way you were drooling over that poor Omega.”
“Fuck you very much. She’s just… different.”
“Think it might be a scent match?” Walker asks, way too casual. “She smelled like temptation, but I’d need to get closer to be sure.”
“Sure you would.” I take a long pull of beer. “For science.”
“We should give her space,” Ridge suggests, ever the practical one. “Girl looks ready to bolt if we breathe wrong. What she needs is protection, not desperate Alphas sniffing around her door.”
“I can protect her just fine up close,” I argue.
“With what? Your animal magnetism?” Walker snorts. “Face it. You’re already half gone on her.”
“When the horse fits,” I start, but Ridge throws a cushion pillow at my head. I dodge it.
“No. No more wisdom. Go make a fucking advice column for the local paper already.”
“Y’all are just jealous of my philosophical nature.”
“Sure!” Walker grins. “Thought it was just another symptom of being dropped on your head as a baby.”
