Page 20 of Snowed In with the Rancher

He was starving.

She set the platter in the center of the table and took the seat she’d used that morning and afternoon which was next to where he sat at the head of the table. “Dig in.”

He did as instructed, loading his plate with the roasted broccoli, potatoes, carrots and chicken. She’d even made a gravy.

With hope in her eyes, she watched as he took the first few bites. Nibbling on the inside of her lip, her gaze followed his fork from the plate to his mouth.

“How is it?” she asked.

He swallowed and pinned his gaze on her. “It’s delicious, thank you.”

Her chest heaved on a sigh. “Oh good. Even when I thought the food was delicious, Lorne always had something to complain about with my cooking. Too much salt, not enough salt. You should have added a dash of smoked paprika if you wanted to elevate this from plain to extraordinary.” That bit about her ex was murmured almost under her breath and most definitely was intended just for herself.

“Well, Lorne sounds like a fucking douche who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. This is amazing. Thank you, Triss.” He offered her a grim smile before taking a sip of his wine.

She beamed and it damn near took his breath away.

“Thank you, Asher. That means a lot.”

Silence thudded through the kitchen and his heart thumped wildly as its softest parts tried to recover from the unwitting admission he’d just made to her. It shouldn’t be such a big deal to compliment someone on their food, and yet he knew that what he said carried more weight with Triss than it would the average person. The way she was looking at him beneath her lashes said as much and he had to keep his pulse from racing and his hands from reaching out, throwing her down on the table and taking her mouth like he owned it.

The platter of chicken and vegetables was nearly empty, so were their wine glasses by the time Asher stood up from the table and began to clear dishes. “Thank you,” he said, his back to her as he opened the dishwasher.

“Thank you for letting me stay here. I will reimburse you for the meals, I promise.”

He shook his head and grunted. “Don’t. You’re a guest and you’re helping out a lot here. We’re square.”

And even if she wasn’t helping him in the barn, or cooking for him, he’d never dream of charging her for meals or her room. He wasn’t hard up for cash by any stretch and that wasn’t the right thing to do.

He should have heard her sidle up beside him, he was trained to hear things better than most, but she appeared at his side almost like an apparition and he sucked in a sharp breath, which only made him inhale her sweet, floral scent.

“Same thing tomorrow?” she asked.

He nodded and took a half-step away from her, before he was muddled any further by her smell and heat. “Everyday.”

“Well, I’m game.”

They cleaned up the dishes in quiet, and for a man who preferred quiet to unnecessary chatter, he found he actually missed her need for conversation. However, not enough to instigate any of his own.

“Good night,” she said hanging up the dish towel and pouring a second glass of wine.

He searched her face for a reason or an opening to keep her from retreating to her room for the night. But he didn’t see one and couldn’t think of anything engaging or worthwhile to say, so like an idiot, he nodded and said, “Good night.”

She disappeared down the hallway and he waited for the door of her room to snick shut before he exhaled and scrubbed his hand down his face. He needed to get a hold of himself. She was hurting, and just because Hannah had given him permission to hump her friend, did not mean he was going to, or that Triss was interested in him that way.

A couple of years ago, Nate had convinced him to buy a hot tub. Asher had been dead-set against it, but Nate said it would help soothe their aching muscles after a hard day of ranching. He hadn’t been wrong.

Now, Asher was out in the tub almost every night with a lowball of whiskey and a joint letting the jets pummel his back and shoulders until every last knot was untangled.

Pouring himself a double, and grabbing his tin of premium pre-rolled kush, he headed to the laundry room off the kitchen. He stripped down to nothing, wrapped a towel around his waist, slid his feet into sandals, and headed out to go and try to fucking relax.

But the way his cock was standing at attention as he thought about what it’d be like to fuck Triss in the hot tub told him he’d probably need to smoke two joints to even remotely chill the fuck out. And even then, he knew it wasn’t guaranteed.

Chapter Eight

With her wine glass empty, Triss carefully opened the door of her room while clutching her tablet under her arm, and scuffed her slippered feet into the kitchen.

The house was dark, except for the orange glow of the fire in the wood stove.

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