CHAPTER TWO
It’snot until dinner that we meet the newcomers as they spent the day touring the ranch and learning about the duties and chores that we’ve all divvied up and perform daily. I’m just sitting down to eat canned ravioli with homemade bread, achieved by resting a dutch oven, a huge-ass, cast iron pan in a bed of hot coals, when they enter.
The first through the door is a tall, gorgeous, seriously drool-worthy man. He’s over six feet tall, with dark skin, maybe Italian or Mediterranean, a lean build, and ropy muscles in his arms and legs. There’s a five o’clock shadow, and luscious dark hair falls to his shoulders, reminding me of the guy in that stripper movie that put on a show for a clerk in a convenience store - chips spraying everywhere as he gyrated his hips. Joe something? At any rate, he was hot, with a capital H.
The women, including Michele and myself, watch him walk through the door and turn our heads as he passes through to the kitchen, spellbound by the sheer sexual magnetism he exudes effortlessly.
From the corner of my eye, I spy Jase’s grimace where he sits across the room as Michele, oblivious, stares after the newcomer. With a slight smirk, I glance at Cole, whose brows are over his eyes. Shrugging sheepishly, I turn back to the door, disappointed to find he’s gone.
I suppose it’s my comeuppance when a dark, Spanish goddess walks through the door next, and my jaw drops to my knees. Everything about her is lush, from her face to her chest and hips. She glances around the room with her dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes that match her long dark hair, and her plush lips curve into a broad smile, complete with a fucking beauty mark that graces her upper lip. Topping off the bombshell look, she’s short and curvy, with tanned skin highlighting all the right places.
I know, I just know if I look at Cole, he’ll be staring at this chick similar to what I just did with her male companion a few short seconds ago, so I resist the urge.
It’s not pretty, but jealousy is rearing its ugly head, and I figure I can maybe head it off, at least for now. But there’s no way I won’t feel its white-hot tip if I see them conversing with each other or looking at each other and, God forbid, touching each other.
This woman is the female equivalent of the man who stepped in before her, and I can only hope they’re together. Please, please let them be a couple. The remainder of their group consists of six nondescript, nothing-to-write-home-about men. In fact, a couple of them with their thousand-yard stares, bushy beards, and wildness give me the creeps.
I try to tamp down my feelings because I don’t want to judge anyone for what they’ve had to do to survive. After all, I’m certainly no picnic in that department, but I also need to pay attention to my instincts because they’ve saved me repeatedly.
We eat in mostly silence, all of us pondering the newest additions, obsessing over their looks and sex appeal—or maybe that’s just me. Cole and I are barely a couple, still working toward something definable, and I can’t help but wonder if this chickee oozing with sexuality might move that status to nothing.
Pushing away those thoughts because they will only bring trouble, I tune in to hear the others talking, all of which stops when the sex god and goddess come back into the room loaded down with their dinner. I briefly wonder how she’s kept all her curves with the lack of food but promptly forget about it when her counterpart sits down next to me.
I think my heart stops beating for a moment. No lie. Cole is yummy, beautiful, gorgeous, and amazing, but this man, he’s so freaking hot that I forget how to speak. Tongue-tied doesn’t begin to cover it, and although I feel no tingles, I’m still shy in the face of his attention.
He smiles, his lips curving sensually, and offers his hand, saying, “Hello, darling. I’m Lorenzo.”
I stare for a moment, mute, before raising my hand in greeting only for Cole to shove his arm over mine, leaning past me and holding out his hand.
“Cole,” he says brusquely, placing his other hand on my shoulder and pulling me back into his chest.
I thrill over the reaction even as my face flames with embarrassment. Lorenzo’s eyes light up, the corners crinkling, and he nods his head before turning to me. I manage to squeak out, “Lola” in response.
He nods and repeats my name before turning to the rest of the group.
“This is Sofia,” he says, pointing to the goddess. “Keith, Shorty, . . .”
I lose track of what he’s saying as I stare at his mouth, only breaking away when Cole pinches me from behind. Turning, I find his eyes on me, holding a light of warning on his slightly cool but handsome face. Forcing myself to relax, I lean into his shoulder and avert my gaze from Lorenzo’s.
I usually wouldn’t give in, but my relationship with Cole is so new, so fledgling, that I don’t want anything to come between it, and I can honestly say I wouldn’t want him staring at Sofia either.
“Where did you come from?” Jase asks from across the room, and a glance at Michele reveals her staring at Lorenzo dumbly as well. A slight flare of vindication settles within because it’s not just me. The man is hot.
Sofia, the bombshell, pipes up, speaking in a sultry, seductive tone that matches her appearance to a T. The low rasp with a Spanish accent makes me want to gag. People who are that attractive should have squeaky voices or female pattern baldness or something. Sheesh.
“We were in Phoenix,” she says, sweeping the room with her bedroom eyes, and the men watching her raptly either flush red, lower their eyes, or wipe the drool from their lips when she speaks.
“We moved from place to place, looking for food and water for months, until we decided to leave. The summer was so hot and searching for supplies was getting too dangerous.”
“Are there,” I clear my throat, “a lot of zombies?”
She laughs, arching her brows, and my insides tingle in annoyance when she says, “Yes, darling, lots of them.”
Right, so we’re not going to be besties anytime soon. Not much of a surprise there, I suppose.
As much as I wanted news from the outside world, I lose interest in Sofia and rise, dropping my plate in the kitchen before heading outside. I have guard shift this evening, so I might as well get a move on.
The evening is uneventful, and all my guard buddies can talk about are the new arrivals, especially Sofia. As you might have guessed, I’m the lone woman among a sea of drooling men.