Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what that is,” I admit as I watch her peel her sweatshirt off her arms and drape it over the back of her chair. Her pink T-shirt molds perfectly over her tits, and I have to look into the fire so I don’t do something stupid. Like kiss the fuck out of her.
“The little yellow flowers,” she replies.
“Is it a good thing?”
“Yeah. Arnica is great for bruises and soreness. If you don’t mind, I’ll pick some and eventually make a salve out of it.”
Surprised, I turn to face her and lift an eyebrow. “You’ll make a salve?”
“And oil,” she confirms, and then smiles hesitantly. “Why do I feel like you’re judging me again?”
“I’m not, I’m just surprised. You’re a doctor—”
“Almost a doctor.”
“—and that seems unscientific.”
“It’s nature, Tucker. Where do you think we get medicine from? Nature is science. And if I make it myself, I know what the ingredients are and where they came from. I don’t have many hobbies, but this is one I enjoy. I don’t make much, I don’t sell anything on Etsy, but I keep it for myself and share with my family.”
This woman fascinates me.
“What else do you make?”
She wrinkles her perfect nose. “You don’t really want to know this.”
“Yeah, Duchess, I really want to know.”
She rubs her lips together as she stares at the fire. “It’s not much. Just a couple of salves and oils. I do make a great parsley oil.”
“What’s that for?”
“It can knock out an ear infection,” she says with a grin. “What are your hobbies, Tucker?”
Staring at you, Darby.
Yeah, that doesn’t sound creepy at all. Jesus.
“I run a ranch, I don’t have time for hobbies.”
“Do you read?”
“Articles, yes.”
“Do you like movies?”
“Sure. Speaking of, I need to get you a TV.”
She blinks at me in confusion. “Why?”
“Because Scott took his with him, so there isn’t one in there.”
Darby shakes her head and leans forward to drop another log on the fire. “I don’t need a TV. I read more than I watch anything.”
“What do you read?”
“Mostly romance novels.”
My lips twitch. Both of my sisters love those books and belong to a book club in Bitterroot Valley.
“Yes, I belong to the same book club as your sisters.”
I chuckle and have to physically hold myself back from reaching out to run my knuckles down her cheek. It’s like she’s a magnet and I can’t stay away.
“Are you a mind reader as well as a sorceress who makes potions?”
“No.” She smiles over at me, and it feels intimate, here in the dark with the fire.
“That last time I saw you at the diner, had you already given your notice?”
Her face sobers and she slowly shakes her head. “No. Charlie had some wedding emergencies come up, and she needed my help. I couldn’t be two places at once, and my sister needed me. She trumps anything else, even excellent tips. Even a handsome stranger that I enjoyed flirting with on Tuesday afternoons at one o’clock.”
“I went in there the following week, ready to ask you out.”
Her eyes widen. “No way.”
I smirk. “That shouldn’t surprise you, Duchess.”
“It only took you a year to get up the nerve to ask me out?”
I drag my thumb over my lower lip and watch her. “I was taking my time.”
“Clearly.”
“And now—”
“Now I work for you.”
With a nod, I push my hand through my hair and then stand and shove my hands in my pockets. “You’re right. Thanks for the fire. And the conversation.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
I saunter away because if I stay by that fire with that woman, I’ll tug her into my lap and kiss the hell out of her, and I’m not allowed to do that.
CHAPTER FOUR
DARBY
Ididn’t want him to leave last night. It felt so good, sitting by the fire, talking with him. And every single time he calls me Duchess, I swear to God I get the tingles.
I’ve never had tingles a day in my life, and all this man has to do is say one little word and I’m a mess.
This is bad.
It’s really bad.
Because I work for him. If he was simply an employee here, maybe something could happen. But he’s the boss, and I’m sure there’s a proverbial line in there somewhere that we’re not allowed to cross.
Damn it.
After I’ve checked on Tom and her little ones and see that they’re all sleeping peacefully, I get to work mucking out stalls and laying fresh bedding. I’ve got one stall cleaned when Tucker strolls in, looking like sex on a fucking platter in those faded jeans and a black T-shirt that molds over the muscles of his chest. He has a red plaid shirt, unbuttoned, thrown on because it’s chilly in the morning, but I know all about the muscles beneath it.
Those muscles do things to me.
Those goddamn muscles.