Page 4 of Big Burly Foreman

“You think I haven’t noticed?” he says with a chuckle, pushing me back to my spot against the counter. “You’ve had your eye on her from the second you started working here. Every time she comes out to the barn, she’s glued to your side, and you practically snarl at anyone who comes close to her. Hell, you’re not the only one who watches her, but you’re for damn sure the most territorial.”

I narrow my eyes at him even as a deep growl begins to form in my throat, forcing him to raise his hands in surrender, almost spilling his own beer.

“Calm down, tiger,” he says with an awkward laugh. “Ashley is a beautiful woman, but no one would dare touch her, and not just because we think her father would shoot us where we stood, but something tells me you would get to us before Mr. Blackwell managed to pick up his rifle.”

I nod, glad to know that we are all on the same page before turning to look at Ashley, only to find her gone, and even worse, so is the kid.

I shove my half-empty beer at Eric, and I am out the door before he can stop me. He is right about me doing everything possible to protect Ashley. I don’t give a fuck if her father invented the solar system or owns half the universe, no one is going to take her from me. Not unless I’m dead.

I ignore the curious look I get from the chef as I walk past and out the door, looking around to see if I can spot Ashley, my heart hammering at the thought of Joseph laying his filthy hands on what’s mine.

I’ve waited for two years to make Ashley mine, and I’ll be damned if someone gets in the way of that. I’ve been biding my time until she graduates, knowing how important earning her college degree is to her. I’m not about to let some kid cut in when I’m so close to having her.

I spot a ranch hand smoking outside near one of the barns and step in front of him. “Ashley. Did you see her come out?”

“Yeah, she went that way,” he says, pointing toward the barn door.

I clench my jaw, fury boiling inside of me as I start for the barn, my steps long and measured, thinking of what I am going to do when I finally find them. I’ve waited long enough, it’s about time Ashley knew to whom she belongs.

I storm into the barn, kicking the door open and making enough noise to make my presence known, but when I walk in, it’s to find Ashley alone, leaning against a stack of hay.

She looks startled when I walk in, but her features relax when she sees it’s me.

“Logan?”

“Where is he?” I ask, running my eyes over the place, trying to find the kid—Joseph.

Her face falls at my question. “Who are you looking for?”

“The kid.”

“There are no children here,” she says, sounding disappointed.

“I mean the kid that touched you earlier. At dinner.”

Her brows shoot up in surprise, then draw together in confusion. “You mean Joseph? He’s not here. Why would you be looking for him?”

To hurt him, I think, but I don’t say it. I don’t need to when it’s probably written all over my face.

“You’re alone?” I ask instead.

“Yeah, uhm, Joseph left for the bathroom, so I slipped out to catch a breather and hide from my parents. Did you really think I would bring him out here?”

The question is whispered, and she sounds hurt that I would think this of her, which pushes me to close the distance between us. A blush rises up her neck with every foot of distance I cover until I am standing in front of her.

“I saw him touch you,” I grit between clenched teeth, the memory of it leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

“You’re . . .” Her voice trails off as her eyes widen at the realization. “Jealous?”

“Damn right, I am!” I growl, pushing her hair behind her ear and drinking in her reaction to my touch. “No one gets to touch you but me.”

“Logan . . .” she protests, her eyes shooting to the half-open barn door, but I don’t care about someone walking in on us. My cock has been half-hard since the moment I saw her, but this close to her, I can smell her sweet, flowery scent, and it’s driving me insane.

It’s reckless to do this in the open, but nothing else matters more than making sure Ashley learns what she means to me.

“Look at me, princess.”

“I can’t,” she whispers, her voice shaky, but despite her protests, I can read her need in the way she leans into my body. In the way her nails dig into my arm as she clutches me, seemingly unaware she’s even doing it.

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