Page 2 of Bookworm
“What time does Earl get up in the morning?”
“Seven-thirty. I usually get him breakfast, help him wash up, then play cards with him while we watch you do chores.”
Holt laughs and crumples his napkin up on his empty plate. “You’re watching me do chores?”
I stand from the table and grab him a cupcake from the glass dome on the counter, then sit back at my chair, and watch as he stares toward me with a softness I haven’t seen in him yet.
“Did you make these while you were watching me, too?” He laughs.
My eyes stay on his and energy passes between us. “Something like that. Your dad says you’ve run the ranch on your own for almost a year now. Aren’t you tired?”
He bites into the chocolate-raspberry cupcake and closes his eyes like he’s savoring the taste. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so appreciated. “Tired is an understatement. More importantly… holy fuck. These are good. I’m starting to think I’m holding you back from some big chef career.”
“If following a recipe makes you a chef, I guess I should be going then. Seriously, though, how do you manage everything? You’re out there from sunrise until way after sundown.”
He crams the rest of the cake in his mouth and dark red crumbs drop down from his lips, into his beard, and over the button up flannel he’s wearing.How is it that he’s made wolfing a cupcake sexy?
“Not trusting anyone helps.” He stands from the table and tosses his dishes in the sink. “Meet me out by the barn tomorrow after the old man goes down for his nap. I’ll show you around.” He steps closer and locks eyes with me. “And don’t do these dishes. I’ll get them in the morning.” He takes a pause, and I wonder if he’s seeing his gaze is melting me into the floor. “Dinner was incredible, but you don’t owe me a meal. You’re here for Earl.” He nods toward me and turns down the hall, disappearing into the dark, while I sit in the kitchen wondering what the hell just happened.
Chapter Two
Holt
I shouldn’t be thinking about Ann for many reasons. First, she’s at least twenty years younger than me. Going after younger women is my father’s thing. Second, she’s working here. Sure, my father hired her, but technically, it’s me cutting the check for her service. Boss-employee relations aren’t professional. I think there’s a rule book about that somewhere. Third, I’ve got enough to deal with without throwing a taboo romance into the mix. So, leaving the kitchen as quickly as possible was in both our interests. I don’t even know why I invited her to the barn. It’s been so damn long since I’ve noticed a woman. Why do I have to notice this one?
The shower runs cold, and I reach for my towel on the rack behind the door, noticing my phone is flashing with a missed call.
Fucking hell.It’s ten o’clock at night. This shit never ends. I could ignore it, but the call is from Waylon. He owns one of the biggest ranches on the mountain range and runs the rodeo in town. He’s quickly become one of the biggest deals in the area and the go-to guy for all things ranch related. If I’m short on hay, he’s got some to sell. If I need an extra hand for the day, he’s got a cowboy that he doesn’t mind sharing. Truthfully, I probably owe the man more beers than I have time left to buy him. At the very least, I guess that warrants a callback.
“Everything alright?” I let the towel fall to the closet floor and weed through my dresser for a pair of boxers as I talk.
“Not really.” He’s more somber sounding than usual.
The floors creak outside the door. I snap my boxers into place and peek into the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ann from where I’m standing, but instead get a whiff of my father’s terrible cologne. He must have gone to the kitchen. If he’s getting around fine, I’m not sure why he thought he needed help. Probably so he could get a little eye candy with his recovery.God, that man needs help.
“Jake got bucked off Bruno during the rodeo tonight. He did some pretty bad damage to his neck. Doctor says he’s gonna need a few months of recovery time.”
“Okay…” I stand in the hallway beside my bedroom door, waiting for Earl to head back to his room. I don’t know why, but it’s good to know he’s in his bed before I go to sleep. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to trip on him as I work through the pitch-black house on my way to the barn in the morning. “How can I help with that?”
“Well,” Waylon’s voice rises an octave or two, “I was hopin’ you’d take over for him. At least until he’s healed up. There’s a good pay package if yo—”
“I’d love to help you, man,” I rub my hand against the back of my neck, trying to loosen the muscles that have bundled, “but I’ve got my hands full here. With the ranch and Earl, I’m barely keeping the training sessions straight. Two of these horses are supposed to go to the Baxter farm for their grandkids, and I’m not sure they’re ready. Besides, I’m an old man, Waylon. I fall off once and I’m done for.”
Cups clank against one another in the kitchen and water runs. The old man is getting himself a drink. Can he make any more noise? He’s going to wake up Ann, and the last thing that girl needs is no sleep after dealing with him all day.
“Think about it,” Waylon argues. “I’ll bump the pay up. Two grand a week until Jake’s back. Let me know by the end of the week.” The call ends and a plate crashes, followed by a series of curse words that remind me of a childhood Sunday morning. The kind where Earl had been up drinking all night and Mom was trying to get him sober enough to head to church, which only resulted in an argument. She deserved better.
“Is everything okay?” Ann questions as her bedroom door opens. “I thought I heard a noise.” She steps into the hall, wrapping a thin black robe around her waist tightly. The woman’s gorgeous. There’s no doubting it. Long, thick curls bounce on her shoulders and her plump lips part. She looks toward me, scanning me up and down before her cheeks turn pink, and she looks away.
“Fuck. Sorry.” I’m still in my boxers. I tip back into the bedroom and grab a pair of sweatpants from the drawer. “I was getting out of the shower when I heard the noise, then I had a phone call, and—”
“No. It’s your home. You’re okay. I’m going to see if your dad needs help.”
I reach for her arm. “No, I’ve got it. You’re not on call twenty-four seven. He’s a handful and you need your rest.”
“Actually, I am. Your dad hired me for round-the-clock care.” She sets the paperback she’s carrying on the dresser inside her room, then rushes down the hall. Her voice is sharp as she sees him. “Earl, you’re bleeding!”
Bleeding. Of course, he’s bleeding.