Lassoing the Virgin Mail Order Bride

I flip the bacon but look up when I hear what sounds like someone running into the front door, a string of curses following it. Then a soft knock. When I flip the lock and open the door, I see Brandon, the same man who came in yesterday for the first-aid kit. He’s rubbing his head, his cowboy hat in hand. A red blotch is already forming on his forehead. He stops rubbing the spot, his hand going to his hair like he’s trying to fix it. It’s clear he didn’t do anything with it this morning and just flipped on a cowboy hat. The dirty-blond shaggy hair still looks good. Almost like that messy look you see the men in magazines try to do, but I don’t think that’s what he’s going for.

“Not used to the door being locked.” His brown eyes crinkle at the edges like he’s still trying to catch his bearings.

“Sorry. Is that not normal?” I ask, pulling the door open wider to let him in.

“No, but I’m thinking a lot of things aren’t going to be are normal anymore.” He smiles at me and heads straight for the dining room table where I have already put the first round of food down.

“Why is that? Not used to having a woman in the house?” My stomach tightens at my own words, realizing what I just said. I don’t know if there were women in this house before me. Hell, for all I know, Cash could have been married and divorced or have a string of women coming and going.

“Well, that and,” Brandon glances at the clock on the wall, “the boss is still in bed, I take it?”

I turn, going back to the stove, knowing my whole face is probably cherry red. I know what he’s thinking. What everyone is thinking. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. The man is going to be my husband. Of course we shared a bed, and people would just assume we did everything that went along with that.

“Yes, he is,” I answer, keeping my back to him as I start pulling the bacon off the stove and placing it on a plate, adding another round to the skillet.

“He’s usually the first up.” I turn to see Brandon now in the kitchen, grabbing the pot of coffee and taking it to the table.

More men start to trickle into the house, making plates and eating. I keep cooking and adding to the plates on the table. They seem to just eat right through them as fast as I can make them. Grabbing an extra plate, I make one for Cash just in case, because I’m close to being out of stuff to cook for them.

“Miss Clare, you have got to be God’s gift to the ranch,” Kent, one for the men, says as he rubs his belly, making me giggle.

“Mrs. McCallister.” I peek over my shoulder to see Cash standing in the kitchen, his eyes on Kent before they come to me. I feel my breath freeze in my lungs. He’s got on a pair a flannel pants and nothing else. The pants hang low, showing off his perfect V, a line of dark hair trailing down his navel.

When he starts to move towards me, I still can’t seem to bring myself to move. Then he’s on me, his mouth coming down onto mine. I stay still until I feel his tongue lick the seam of my mouth and I open for him. My body does as he commands. One of his hands snakes into my still-damp hair, the other grabbing my hand, locking his fingers with mine.

I melt into him, my eyelids falling closed. His kiss is just as intense as he is. I have no idea what I’m doing as he devours my mouth like he’s starving. When I hear a throat clear, I jump back, having completely forgotten we’re in a room full of people, but when I look over at the dining room table it’s empty and only Earl is standing there eating a piece of bacon. We cleared the room. It’s like one embarrassing thing after another around here.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I say, my hand going to my mouth. My voice is all breathy.

“What, kissed my wife?” He looks down at me like I’m crazy. That it’s normal. Like we’ve been kissing forever. That this wasn’t my first kiss ever.

“First off, I’m not your wife.” I take a step towards him, pointing up at him. A half smile forms on his face like he thinks it’s cute I’m getting all up in his face.

“Yet,” he adds, but I just ignore him.

“Secondly, as of last night this thing wasn’t totally on.” I motion between us. Then I stop when I see a ring on my finger.

It’s stunning. A big circular diamond sits in the center, surrounded by smaller diamonds in a halo. It looks antique.

“It was my mother’s.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“I can’t take this.” I go to pull it off, but he grabs my wrist to stop me.

“You’ll wear it,” he says, using the same tone on me he does his men.

“It doesn’t seem right,” I try to protest. This is his mother’s ring. It’s something I’m sure was given in love. I’d seen a picture of his mom and dad last night in his bedroom. I knew it was them. Cash has a mix of both of them in him. His mother had dark hair and gray eyes, but he is built like his father. The look on his father’s face as he’d looked down at Cash’s mom was full of so much love. It was so beautiful and hurt to look at. I wanted a marriage like that.

“You’re going to be my wife.” He pushes back.

“It’s not the same.”

“You’ll wear it and that’s final.” His words are hard. He’s clearly upset that I’m pushing against him, but then he places a kiss on the palm of my hand before releasing my wrist. The action is so soft and sweet. It doesn’t match his hard words.