Home > Lassoing the Virgin Mail Order Bride(8)

Lassoing the Virgin Mail Order Bride(8)
Author: Alexa Riley

She’s my home.

Chapter 5 Clare

I melt into his embrace, loving the feeling of having his arms around me. I feel cherished. Even if it isn’t real, I’m going to soak it up for a little longer. I can’t remember the last time I was cuddled. As a child maybe? A range of feelings flood through me at the thought. My mama and I loved each other, but she wasn’t super affectionate.

I breathe in his scent as he nuzzles into me a little more, his lips against my neck. He still smells like the sun, but this time it has a hint of soap. I shouldn’t be surprised that telling him to sleep on the couch wouldn’t work. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who could be told what to do. He did the telling and everyone jumped. I bet even when he was a little boy he probably stood his ground. The image flutters into my mind. I imagine a small, dark-haired boy wearing a cowboy hat that’s a little too big for him, but he still has that commanding look on his face. I’d guess Cash could stop a bull right in its tracks.

I don’t know if I should be irritated that he climbed into bed with me, but this is his house, and we’re getting married. Well, I think we are anyways. He hadn’t chased me down last night, or rebuffed my comment about him picking a bride more to his liking. Though at the moment, he seems to like me a lot. The man has yet to introduce himself to me properly, but he can’t seem to keep his hands off me.

Right now he has me locked up tight. It’s going to take some serious maneuvering to break free without waking him. I keep telling myself to get up from the bed, that I need to get a start on breakfast before everyone else rises, but here I lie, wanting to keep breathing him in.

When I finally see a sliver of light peek through the window, I slowly unwrap myself from his arms until I can slip free and off the bed. I turn to look at him, but the room is still too dark to get a good look. Tiptoeing to the door, I grab my bag off the floor before pulling the door closed behind me as quietly as I can. I opt to use the bathroom in the hallway once again to keep from waking Cash.

I make quick work in the shower. I fly through my morning routine and slip on my jean shorts and a white T-shirt. I want to get done as fast as possible. I already feel behind, knowing the men will be looking for their breakfast any minute now. I don’t want to get off to a bad start with everyone here. I’m already feeling a little embarrassed about snapping in front of all of them.

When I get to the kitchen, I start pulling everything out to make eggs, bacon, and some toast. It’s really the only option with what I have here. I’m really going to have to get to town today and get some food. If I want to stock up for a whole week, I’m going to have to take a truck. Maybe Cash will let me take one of the men with me to help.

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.

   
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