Page 2 of Riding Into Love
“Well, you can put your stuff in the room at the end of the hall.”
“You don’t want me to stay in the bunkhouse? With the other hands?”
He barks out a laugh, and he doesn’t even try to be subtle when his eyes move over my body, stopping a heartbeat too long at the mounds spilling from the top of my tank top. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Guess men really are the same, no matter where they come from.
“Oh, no. There’s no way in hell you’re staying in the bunk house with all those boys.”
“Oh, so I get special treatment? The princess suite?”
“Not exactly. Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
I follow him into the house, trying not to focus on the way his ass looks in his jeans. I’ve never been a huge fan of cowboys. That cliche has always seemed a little ridiculous to me. What city girls don’t understand is that when it comes to a real rancher, expecting to be a priority is about as likely as winning the lottery. It doesn’t happen. They spend their days working, their nights drinking, and the rare occasion they get a woman between their sheets, she doesn’t get much attention.
Still, Colby is pretty hot, even if he is around my father’s age. His strong arms and broad shoulders are a little more appealing than they should be, and his ass is downright distracting. Not that I’ll be doing anything about it. If the rumors are true, he’s got a lot of demons, and the last thing I need is a guy who’s more baggage than he’s worth.
Men like that are the reason I’m here in the first place. I needed a fresh start after the way my dickhead ex treated me. Christian was a piece of shit, and I should have realized it sooner, but I guess that’s the way things go sometimes. At the end of the day, I needed to find someplace he’d never be able to touch me again. So when Daddy suggested I come here because they needed a body for the season, I didn’t give it a second thought.
Colby leads me down the hallway, and the whole place smells like cedar and freshly baked bread. The wooden floors are scuffed, but it’s not shabby. This is a house that has been well-loved.
“So, you’ve worked on a ranch before?”
“Sure have. My daddy’s the best cattle wrangler around.”
“I won’t argue that. The man’s a legend.”
“He is. Taught me everything I know.”
Colby stops at the end of the hall and gestures toward a door. “This is you. You can leave your bag in there, then I’ll need you outside. The boys are getting ready to bring the cattle in from the north pasture, and it’ll go a lot faster if we’ve got an extra set of hands.”
He turns and heads back the way we came, and I push open the door to the room. It’s small, with only a twin-sized bed and a dresser inside. But it’s more than I need, and I toss my bag onto the mattress before following him outside.
A few guys are already making their way down the path, leading a massive herd of horses. There must be close to a hundred of them, and it’s going to take a miracle to get them all penned up.
“You ride?”
“Is that a serious question? I grew up on a ranch. Of course I can ride.”
“All right then. See that stallion right there?” He points to a horse at the back of the pack. “His name’s Linux. He’s not our friendliest horse, but he’s the only spare mount we’ve got. Take him out and head to the northern pasture. I need you to bring in the last group.”
I glance at the animal in question. He’s a beauty. A jet-black stallion, with a mane that rivals the night sky. He’s got an attitude, though, judging by the way he rears back and stomps the ground when one of the other hands approaches him.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Colby watching me, probably thinking I’m gonna back down. No such luck, cowboy.
“I’ll handle him.”
I’m not sure if I’m talking about the horse or the man, but the truth is, they’re not so different. The stallion’s nostrils flare, and the muscles along his flanks tighten, like he’s about to charge.
“Don’t get yourself killed, Thurston.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I approach Linux with slow, cautious steps. The last thing I need is this bastard knocking me on my ass in front of a bunch of testosterone-fueled men. Not exactly a good start.
The horse stomps the ground, and I can tell by the way his eyes are trained on me, he’s just as stubborn as I am.
“Come on, buddy. Don’t make this hard on both of us.”
I hold a hand out, palm up, and let him come to me. The moment he presses his nose into my skin, I can sense the aggression drain from his body. Maybe he’s not such a tough guy after all.
