Away from here. Away from me.
But I roll my eyes at myself when I think that thought, and I wash it down with beer.
The dinner is fantastic, and the conversation just flows. It’s like her and I sitting down to eat together just feels natural—like we’ve been friends for years and know just how to banter. She’s funny as hell, and smart, and she keeps me on my toes the whole time.
Also, by the time we’re done, we’ve had another two beers each. And it’s pretty clear we’re both feeling great.
Tansy stands, but then immediately grabs onto the back of her chair. She giggles as she steadies herself.
“Wow, so, ignore that,” she laughs.
I chuckle as I stand, feeling pretty drunk myself. “Consider it ignored.”
“I mean, wouldn’t want my temporary boss to see me—” she hiccups and instantly blushes. “Uh, drunk.”
“Right, exactly. Wouldn’t want my temp vet to see me—” She blushes even deeper before I can even finish the sentence. But that blush tells me she damn well is still thinking about the other morning.
My cock thickens in my jeans. But I quickly shove that thought away. No. Besides being my tenant and under my employ for the next month, it’s still a no. I mean what is she, twenty-four? Twenty-five? And she came out here to escape guy issues, not fall into all of my shit.
“Um, so…” she grins at me. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Hey, any time. All part of the charity work we do out here at the Cherry Blossom Ranch.”
She rolls her eyes. “Dick,” she giggles. Fucking hell, she keeps giggling and smiling and looking like a goddamn snack like that, and we’re going to have a problem. Or at least, I am.
“Anything I can do to clean up?”
“Oh, the cook doesn’t clean. So, dishes are all you.”
Her brows knit, but then she nods. “Oh, yeah, for sure. Let me just—”
“Tansy.”
She looks up.
“I’m joking. You’re good.”
“What? No, I can definitely—”
“Save it for the next steak dinner, alright?”
She grins. “If you insist.”
“You okay to drive home?”
She laughs. “Hell to the no. Good thing I’m sleeping fifty walkable feet that way,” she jerks both thumbs over her shoulders.
“Need an escort?”
I mean it like a joke. But her face instantly turns red, and her eyes snap to mine. Her teeth rake over her bottom lip, making me groan a little inside. Tansy opens her mouth, but then blushes deeply as she shuts it.
“I’m… I think I can make it.”
I grin. “Good stuff. So does nine work for you tomorrow?”
She frowns. “For?”
“To fix Chance’s dick?”
She turns bright red and laughs as she rolls her eyes. “Right, yeah, that.”
“That whole job thing.”
She points a finger at me, looking pretty toasted as she winks. “Got it. Yes, nine is great for horse dick.”
I chuckle. “I mean, what time of day isn’t good for horse dick?”
“It’s pretty much an all day affair.”
I chuckle as her giggle floats through the evening air.
“Until tomorrow then.”
“It’s date.” She frowns. “Or, yeah. Something.”
I laugh. “Night, Tansy.”
“Night, boss.”
I watch as she turns on her heel and half saunters, half dances her way down the path through the garden towards the cottage. And damn if my eyes don’t land on that ass and stay there.
She steps in and glances back at me. When she sees that I’m still there, her face reddens, and her lip slips back between her teeth. Then she closes the door, and the spell is broken. I groan as I sink down into my chair and pick up the last of my beer.
Shit, how the hell am I going to survive this girl living fifty feet out my back door?
I finish the beer quickly and stack all of the dishes. Inside, I drop them all in the sink. But suddenly, my eyes land on the stack of clean, folded white towels stacked by the back door.
Shit. I forgot about those; for the guest cottage. I wipe my hands off and grab them as I bolt out the back door. I jog over to the cottage, and without thinking—out of habit of no one living here for pretty much ever—I twist the knob and swing the door wide open.
I skid to a stop as Tansy whirls, gasping. She’s maybe ten feet from me, in the middle of her living room area, standing over her open suitcase on the couch.
And she’s not wearing a goddamn thing but the world’s tiniest pair of blue thong panties.
She gasps, her hands flying to cover her tits as she whirls to me.
“Shit—” I grunt, skidding to a stop in my tracks. And I just stare at her. It can’t be helped. The beers aren’t exactly working in favor of looking away. But even if I were stone cold sober, I don’t think the armageddon itself could tear my eyes away from the beauty standing in front of me.
“I…” I frown. “Towels. For you,” I mumble. Neither of us are moving. I’m not turning away or leaving. But she’s not screaming or cursing at me, either. She’s not bolting to the bedroom or the bathroom. She’s not even snatching something up to cover herself.
She’s just standing there, hands over her tits, in just that little blue thong.
We stare at each other breathlessly. Neither of us says a word. But suddenly, I’m moving on autopilot. I step into the cottage. The towels land in a heap on the chair by the door. But I keep walking—striding to her. She whimpers softly, which does fuck all to break my stride.
I don’t stop or slow, and I suddenly crash into her. I groan as one hand grabs her hip, the other snaking into her long dark hair. I pull her into me, and she falls against my chest. My mouth lowers, and my
