Page 26 of Curvy Nanny for the Cowboy

“I’m sure,” I confirmed. “I’m damn sure he was wrong.” I wasn’t about to get into the details of the state of Molly’s sexual experience, and luckily Wyatt didn’t push the issue.

Wyatt’s brows shot even higher as he pulled his lips into his mouth as if to literally bite back whatever he’d been about to say. “So he’s one of those,” he growled, waiting for me to say more. “Is she sure she didn’t tell him where she was going?”

“She seemed positive that he had no clue where she was. She didn’t tell her cousin because she was sure her cousin might let it slip just to get rid of him.” I believed her. Without a doubt, I believed Molly, but part of me thought she was being naïve to think there was no way for him to find out where she had been for the past two months.Almost two months,I corrected mentally. “I believe her, but I think someone that insecure and controlling would find a way.”

“Exactly,” Wyatt nodded. “He isn’t giving up on a woman like her that easily, which means we need to be on alert and extra cautious just in case.” He shook his head and pushed away from the wall, taking the lopsided metal chair on the other side of my desk. “What do you want to do?”

I let out a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand over my face. My options were terrible and worse than terrible. “Not much we can do without any kind of confirmation, other than keep a close eye on her and Hunter and maybe put someone on overnight video surveillance.” The ranch had a series of video surveillance cameras in key areas, but since there was very little trouble, the footage just went to the server and sat there for six months before it was recorded over.

“Yeah, I can handle that,” Wyatt nodded. “In the meantime, we have actual business to discuss.”

“Is something wrong?” I’d been too preoccupied with other things to notice if there was anything wrong with the business, which was incredibly unlike me.

“No, the opposite, actually. A small company from Louisiana wants to use us as the sole source of sheep’s milk for their gourmet cheese line. It’s small, a boutique company, so there won’t be a problem accommodating their needs, but we’d be putting all of our sheep’s milk eggs into one basket, so to speak.” He grinned at his wordplay and waited for my response.

It was a good offer, if the money was right, and it would take the pressure off me to always find people interested in our products. “Think we could get a stamp on their label, something likemade from McCall Ranch sheep’s milk?”

“Won’t hurt to ask,” Wyatt said with a smile. “You know, it’s frightening how good you are at this stuff without even trying.”

I smiled. “I guess it’s a gift.” I liked to think my dad was proud of me, but I knew better because he often let me know that not all change was good change. But he cashed the checks and gave Mom the retirement she deserved, which was more of a win than anything he could say to me. “I’ll do some research before getting back to them.”

Wyatt opened his mouth to respond, but his belly spoke first, letting out a loud roar that would scare a forest full of grizzlies. “Guess that’s my cue for dinner,” he laughed and looked down at his phone screen. “Let’s hope the guys didn’t eat all of the food. If so, I’ll be knocking on your door soon enough.”

“You’re always welcome,” I told him as I closed my laptop and took it with me. Maybe I’d get some work done sometime after dinner and before taking Molly to bed because Iwouldbe taking her to bed tonight. Tomorrow night.

Every night for the foreseeable future.

That thought stopped me dead in my tracks. The main house was lit up in the distance, but I stood there and turned over that last thought with a frown. Did I want Molly for the long haul? My mind screamed ‘yes,’ but I wasn’t sure for too many reasons to count.

She worked for me.

Hunter loved her, which meant I couldn’t be careless with her.

She was a lot younger than I was, which presented its own set of problems.

She was still tangled up with her ex. Kind of. Sort of.

Maybe.

I shook off my thoughts and finished the walk home in slow, deliberate steps. I stepped inside the mudroom and kicked off my boots, the same as I did any other day. Only when I stepped into the kitchen was it quiet. Too quiet. It smelled delicious as hell, like someone had a Texas feast without me, and I rushed through the kitchen and up to my room for a shower so I could eat without the distraction of my own damn odor.

It had been a long day, and by the time I was clean and dressed and ready for dinner, it was close to ten o’clock. Molly was there, and she was a welcome sight, even with the wary expression on her face. “Smells incredible in here. What is it?”

“Barbecue,” she confirmed with a small smile. “The sandwich I had for lunch was so good, and what happened afterward kind of ruined it, and I wanted to rectify that.” She shrugged like it was no big deal when the truth was it was a damn big deal. The scene was so domestic that it should have scared me, but it didn’t. Instead, I was intrigued. I realized that this, Molly, was what I’d been missing the past few years.

She stared at me and rose from the table, grabbing two beers from the fridge and sliding one in front of me. “Eat. You’ve had a long day.”

I did as I was told because I was so damn hungry I could chew the wood off the kitchen table. The chicken and the ribs were beyond delicious, and I ate until my hunger was completely satisfied before I felt the weight of her green gaze on me. “What’s on your mind, Molly?” The woman had a horrible poker face. Every damn thing she was feeling was always splashed across her face for any interested party to read.

She swallowed and took a pull from her beer, her gaze flickering around the kitchen without settling on me, a move that had me officially worried. “I’ve been thinking,” she began hesitantly.

I finished the last bite of chicken and potato salad, leaving nothing but the small bowl of baked beans in front of me. My gaze connected with hers, and I nodded. “What have you been thinking about, Molly?”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think that maybe I should leave the ranch. I mean,” she rushed on, “if it is Travis, then all the trouble around here, to your animals and the ranch, will stop. Every living creature on this land will be safe.”

As much as I appreciated her looking out for my business—hell, my life’s work—she wasn’t thinking clearly. “And what about you, Molly? Will you be safe?”

“I’ll be fine,” she offered too quickly. “I’m not what’s important right now; Hunter is.”

---