CHAPTER FOUR
Mack
Pulling up out front, I feel like I’ve got this. I mean, I think I’ll be able to pull it off.
Tina’s mom even seems to have forgotten about the deer we almost hit, as well as the look she gave me when she saw how long I let my arm linger across her daughter’s chest.
But when it comes time to actually head inside, I feel like the only thing I want to do is scoop Tina up into my arms, carry her across the threshold and take her to the nearest bedroom.
Not exactly normal behavior.
Plus, the effect Tina has on me is at a point where it’s almost impossible to hide.
Outside in the dark, sure. I’m sure nobody’s noticed so far.
But inside under all those lights?
Maybe this weekend isn’t going to be a walk in the park after all.
Slow season be damned. If I’m going to be obsessed with Tina every minute of the day and night, I don’t know how I’m going to function, let alone keep it less than obvious what she’s doing to me.
I mean, it’s a not so small a miracle that nobody’s spotted my constant and now aching hard on that I have for her.
Not something I can exactly be roaming the halls welcoming guests with.
If it were just her and me, here it would be different. And I don’t need to think too hard about it to know that her mom is going to be a serious kink in the works, even if I can convince myself that Tina would even go for an older guy like me.
But once Mrs. Corbett, the housekeeper, appears, I know I can escape.
For a little while at least.
Just to clear my head and try to begin to think straight again.
But damn. If leaving Tina on her own, even though she’ll be surrounded by people I can trust, takes everything I’ve got to walk away.
The sudden rain showering my body, soaking me through in moments does nothing to dampen my mood or my arousal for her.
If anything, all I can think about is her walking in the rain with me.
Imagining her clothes sticking tighter to those curves of hers.
Knowing instantly that she’d look and feel way better with no clothes at all.
And just how is this ‘dealing with it,’ Mack?
Growling with the best kind of frustration there is, I almost slip when I kick at a wet stone, skidding on the spot and catching my balance just in time.
I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath of the pristine country air mixed with the rain.
The fog has a dankness of its own, too, reminding me of the forest.
The deer.
My arm across her chest….
I hear myself making a little sound at first. Almost like a wounded animal myself until it becomes a deep, almost mournful growl.
Not really a wounded animal, though.
More like a beast who’s spotted his mate, and the only thing between what I know is mine is not knowing if that’s what she wants.
Oh, and then there’s her mother.
That’s like a living bear trap set to snap if I get too close too soon, I reckon.
Puffing out air until the plumes of my warm breath mix with the fog, I keep walking.
Away from the house and down the hidden path to my own cabin, which I stride past.
The large sign marked ‘private’ makes me smile a little to myself. My place is about the only thing off-limits to guests.
It’s nowhere near as big as the main house but calling it a cabin doesn’t do it justice.
There’s plenty of room for me and my ‘privacy,’ which I usually crave when I’m not out working the ranch.
But the thought of going there right now, feeling nothing but emptiness when all I want is literally only feet away from me?
I figure staying outdoors and in the open might help break the spell I know I’m fast falling under.
Deciding a walk in the rain will do me some good, even if it’s only to try and put out the fire I feel burning inside me.
Telling myself that Mrs. Corbett has everything in hand, and reminding myself that there are a ton of chores left to do as well as organize the gear for tomorrow’s outdoor adventures.
Rain, hail, or shine, Silver Fox Ranch offers rough camping and trail riding as well as all the comforts of home.
Most guests come out here for the outdoors, but plenty are happy to just sit by the fire or fish in the lake, or just explore the old place by themselves.
And old Mrs. Corbett, bless her. She’d never have me in the house this dripping wet anyway.
I don’t know how long I’m gone. Losing track of time is pretty normal for this part of the world, especially at night and in this kind of weather.
But there’s something soothing about the ranch at night, and the rain only brings out the best of the place that I literally know stone by stone. Tree by tree.