Page 50 of Stuck with Me

ME

Yep.

AMELIA

Son of a biscuit eater!

I chuckle, shaking my head.

AMELIA

You know what that means?

ME

??

AMELIA

They were really in love.

* * *

Rosie is still ignoringme come lunch time. Which is fine with me. Seeing her traipsing around the cabin is bad enough. If I have to hear that sassy mouth of hers, I’m positive my anger toward her will turn into a craving that should not be satisfied. Thatcan’tbe satisfied.

But the woman gets me so worked up.

She used all the fucking hot water knowing full well the tank couldn’t reheat it with the power off. By the time I got out of the cold shower, my balls had shriveled up so much they probably looked like two wrinkled raisins.

What a selfish asshole.

Since I hadn’t planned on the power being out when I packed food, my choices for lunch are limited. Beef jerky, almonds, or chips and salsa? I opt for almonds and crack open a beer. If the calories don’t fill me up, maybe it will give me enough of a buzz that I don’t realize I’m hungry. Or cold.

Rosie fixes herself a salad. But not just any salad. It’s covered in bacon and blue cheese and croutons. It looks so fucking delicious saliva pools in my mouth.

When she pulls a glass out of the cupboard, she bumps her elbow into me, and I can only assume it’s on purpose. And yet, she has the nerve to glare at me.

“Excuse you,” I growl, glaring right back at her.

Two can play at this game.

“You’re excused,” she snaps.

Something tells me Rosie is a woman who isn’t used to being ignored. So her glares and snappy comments probably mean she wants some attention. But I’m not ready to forgive her little stunt of using up all the hot water.

She might be hard up for companionship, but I could go a long ass time before I need to talk to someone. I let her comment slide as I bundle up in my jacket, cowboy hat, and boots once again. But I feel her watchful gaze on me. I grab mylunchand head outside to sit on the porch swing.

There isn’t much for wind, which I’m grateful for. It’s cold enough without it. The soaring pine trees are covered in a thick layer of wet snow causing the limbs to sag. Despite the cold, the snow is beautiful. I shove against the porch with the toe of my boot, causing the swing to sway.

It’s quiet out here. Peaceful. It reminds me a little bit of home. Only, in the small bunkhouse I live in on the family ranch, I don’t have a porch swing. This makes me think that maybe I ought to get one. It’s relaxing.

A lot of times in the evenings after our work is done, Hayden and I will sit on my porch and shoot the shit while we drink a beer or two. It’s a nice way to unwind after a long day. But sometimes I think sharing an evening cup of coffee with a woman would be better.

It just has to be therightwoman. And at twenty-nine years old, I haven’t found her yet. Between the long hours spent at the ranch, tending to the responsibilities put on me by my mother, there isn’t much time left for companionship. Never mind time to make a real connection with a woman.

That’s why my last relationship was simple. Sara Beth was the Pastor’s daughter. And since Mother already expected me to be a church, I didn’t have to put in extra effort to see her. Sara Beth and I would sit next to one another in eighth row in the right section all the way to the right. Close enough for her daddy to see us from the pulpit but far enough for him to spot how high I liked to rest my hand on her bare thigh.

Sara Beth was a goody-two-shoes at church in front of her daddy, but she liked to get wild as soon as we stepped foot out the doors. Though she wasn’t as wild in between the sheets as I would’ve liked. Sure, she liked to wear my cowboy hat, hoot and holler, and ride my dick until we both were good and satisfied, but there was no spark.

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