Page 70 of Beat around the Bush
“Worried about me, Oak?” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. “Since you’re my boss and my… whatever you are, yes, I am.”
“Your boyfriend,” I filled in. Though less than two minutes ago, I’d called her my employee, I realized now that I wanted her to be more than just that. I wanted a title. I wanted dates, to bring her flowers, to take her out dancing, to bring her chocolates during her time of the month.
“That’s not how that works,” she stated.
“Oh, you want to get all traditional now?” We’d already had sex, twice, and I wasn’t about to let her get away from me now.
She shrugged. “I guess I do.”
If that’s what she wanted, I’d give it to her. “Alright.”
“Really?” she asked, disbelief seeping into her tone.
I nodded once. “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it.”
The bell on the door dinged as Leo passed through the entrance, bundled in a big navy blue snow jacket. He pulled his gloves off, shoving them into his pockets. “I’ll just set my stuff in the break room and I’ll be right up here.”
“Thanks, Leo,” I said to him.
“Yeah, yeah.” He walked by me, heading for the back of the store.
“I’ll call you when I’m done at the ranch,” I told Oakley.
I bent down, cupping her cheek and pressing a kiss to her lips. God, just kissing her did crazy things to me.
“Tell Cal and your dad I said hi.”
“Will do.” I headed for my office to grab my jacket and keys, wishing I didn’t have to leave Oakley at the store.
At least it would give me time to think of how I wanted to make this official with her.
27
Lennon
When I’d pulled up to the ranch, Callan already had my horse ready for me to hop on and head out. Our dad was still out with the cows on the road, doing his best to keep them out of traffic. They were stubborn in this cold, and with the snow drifts piled high, they were acting like they couldn’t get back through the fence.
“It’s about damn time,” Dad grumbled as we approached from the field.
“I have this thing called a job,” I reminded him.
He grunted, twisting his horse around to keep a straggler in check.
Callan led his buckskin, Ace, through the snow drift, which had been trampled in one narrow spot from the cows when they got out of the pasture.
“Think we need to shovel it?” Callan asked as he observed the narrow passageway.
Our dad scoffed. “You wanna wash their assholes and paint their hooves while you’re at it?”
I let out a bark of laughter. Our dad always took great care of the cattle, but he wasn’t about to treat them like a house pet.
“It’s a little bit of snow. They walked through it to get out here in the first place,” Dad said, looking both ways on the dark road for headlights.
I eyed the snow drift. “It’s probably four feet tall. That isn’t small, Dad.”
“At least it ain’t ten,” he grumbled.
