Page 19 of Tempted By the Broken Cowboy
I rap my knuckles on the wood and wait for a response. A few seconds pass, and nothing. I knock again, only to be met with more silence. I know he’s in there—I heard shuffling before I started knocking, which means he’s ignoring me.
“Beck, I know you are in there. Open up!” I demand, banging more forcefully. “I’m not going away until I talk to you.”
I keep banging my fist against it until all of a sudden, the door opens and my hand is caught by a much larger one just before it slams against his bare chest. My breath catches. Broad shoulders, skin bronzed by the sun, and muscles that flex like they were sculpted just to taunt me.
For a split second, I forget why I’m here. His grip is firm, calloused, the kind of hand that speaks of hard work. But it’s the ink that steals my attention, dark lines curling over his chest and down his arm, alive against the movement of his body. I neverimagined Beck marked like this, and the sight pins me in place, a thousand questions sparking to life where words should be.
I should let go, pretend I haven’t noticed the way his tattoos disappear below the waistband of his jeans. Instead, my pulse betrays me, hammering loud enough I’m sure he can hear it.
Heat rushes up my arm, pooling low in my stomach.
“What?!” he bellows at me, pulling me back into reality.
I jerk my hand back, forcing myself to look at his face and not his naked chest—not that it’s much better, but it’s more bearable.
“Good morning,” I greet, forcing on a smile.
“What do you want, Quinn?” he demands impatiently.
Rude much. We will work on those manners, but for now, I have a different agenda in mind.
“What’s your schedule for the day?” I inquire.
“Why?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest, making his muscles flex.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look. That is easier said than done, but I force myself, recalling why I am here in the first place.
“I’ll be shadowing you. I need to learn how your day-to-day is so I can make a proper schedule and work with your strengths,” I explain.
He shuts me down with a single word. “No!”
But I was already prepared for this. Last night he glared at me all through dinner and blocked all my attempts to talk to him about my plans for him. Today, I am not going to give him that opportunity.
“I don’t know the meaning of that word.”
“Better pick up the dictionary then.”
I sigh, my shoulders dropping a little bit. “You’re gonna make this very hard for me, aren’t you?”
“I already warned you, didn’t I?”
“You did, but it’s not going to be that easy to get rid of me. I have my own reasons for doing this, so I am here to stay. You might as well get used to it. It’ll make the next eight weeks so much easier on the two of us.”
“Yeah, keep dreaming.”
In true Beck style, he slams the door in my face, letting me know that this conversation is over.
Argh! He’s so frustrating.
Why can’t he try and work with me? I know this is not what he wants, but I’m here, so we might as well do our best. But Jace did warn me yesterday that this was not going to be a walk in thepark. I’m not one to give up easily, so I head back to my room to get ready for the day.
A pair of jeans, a proper loose shirt due to the heat, cowboy boots, and a hat make my outfit of the day. I’m a corporate girl, but I grew up on a farm, so I know how to dress appropriately. I grab my phone on my way out, but I run into a small problem when my door refuses to open.
The door handle seems to be jammed on something, and as someone who has grown up with three brothers, I’m familiar with this trick.
“Beck, I know it’s you. Let me out—this is not funny,” I yell, knocking on my door repeatedly.
I can’t believe he’d turn to such juvenile tactics. If he thinks locking me in here will keep me away, then he’s got another thing coming.
