Cattenach Ranch

Chapter 2

She couldn't blame him for not catching her drift. It's not as if she'd ever flirted with him before. She wasn't even sure she knew how, at any rate. In these parts, the direct approach of buying someone a beer at the sole tavern in town was the equivalent of an offer.

He went eerily still and, as if in slow motion, his gaze slid from the clipboard to her. Hard black eyes nailed her to her spot and probed as if searching for the Holy Grail of meaning.

Unnerved and feeling more than a little stupid, she shifted her weight to her other foot. "Have you ever thought about it? Me, you, clothes on the floor?" Yikes. Couldn't get any more obvious than that. She'd kill Aunt Mae later.

A harsh inhale, and he turned his head, glaring at the mountains in the far distance. His Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow and he closed his eyes for a brief moment before looking at her once again. Interest flared in his eyes, but uncertainty was gaining ground.

Finally, he switched the clipboard to his other hand and deigned to respond. "Where is this coming from, little red?"

He only called her "little red"a reference to her size and hair colorwhen pissed off or if she did something he thought was adorable. She couldn't tell which extreme he was hovering near at the moment, and his expression wasn't offering any clues.

She shrugged. "We're not getting any younger and we're both single." Lovely. She might die from over-romanticism.

"That's not exactly a reason to date someone."

Lord. She wished she'd never brought it up. Irritation made her eye twitch. "I didn't say anything about dating." When he just blinked, she sighed. "Never mind. Have the sheep been kept in all night?" They couldn't shear if the herd was wet from the elements.

He shoved the clipboard under his arm and dropped a hand on his hip. "Yes."

"And they've been fasting since yesterday?" This was to avoid excess waste to keep the wool and floor clean, plus minimized the sheep's discomfort when rolled to their backs.

Not that Nakos didn't know all of this, but a topic change was sorely needed. She was beginning to wonder if her instincts and Aunt Mae's declaration about Nakos's feelings were accurate. If that were the case, Olivia might've just made things very, very uncomfortable between her and her foreman.

"Yes." He eyed her with a cross between confusion and frustration. "The first quarter of the flock is rounded up and in the pen. This isn't my first rodeo."

"I know." Most days, she didn't have a clue what she'd do without him. He'd always been her rocksilent, strong, and unrelenting. "You do a great job, Nakos. Sorry. I'm having an off day." Or year. Whatever.

He gave her a disbelieving look littered with concern. She walked around him and headed for the barn, but he gently grabbed her arm to stop her retreat.

With his face half in shadow from his hat, he drew a steady inhale. "Are we really doing this? Are we talking about crossing that line?"

"I don't know." Despite the chilly air, her cheeks heated. "Maybe we should table the discussion and think about it."

He stared at her a long beat. "Why now? I never got the impression you were attracted to me."

"You're very attractive." That wasn't the issue. And if this wasn't the most whack conversation the two of them ever had, she'd eat her own cooking. "I'm restless, I guess. Aunt Mae started in about settling down and, well...Yada."

All he offered for the longest time was a slow nod. As if an afterthought, he let go of her arm. "Let's get going on the herd. That can't wait." Posture stiff, he pivoted toward the open barn door.

"Are you angry?"

With his back to her, he paused. "No." He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I'm processing. Out of nowhere, you proposition me and then claim it was out of boredom."

Crap. She stepped in front of him, her stomach twisting in guilt. Just what every guy wantedhis pride b***h-slapped. "I'm sorry. And I didn't say I was bored, I said restless. There's a difference. If you're not interested, we can pretend the past ten minutes never happened."

"My curiosity isn't in question and you know that or you wouldn't have brought it up in the first place. Not once have I put you in a corner, little red." He stepped closer, crowding her, and looked down his nose at her. "Know why? Because you're not interested."

"How do you know? We've never kissed or tried a relationship on for size." In fact, she could count on one hand the number of times he'd touched her, and she'd still have spare fingers. He always stood beside her, had her back, but they didn't have a touchy-feely kind of friendship.

"You feel it or you don't. It's as simple as that." He shook his head. "Go ahead. Table the discussion, as you claimed. Think about it. I'll be right here, where I've been the past twenty years. Now, can we get to work or would you like to throw me a second punch?"

Her shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes. This was why she'd blown off Aunt Mae every time she'd tried to bring up the idea of starting something with Nakos. One comment and a failed attempt at flirting had managed to wound his pride, insult him, and dent their friendship. At a loss, she opened her eyes, only to find his gaze pinned to something over her shoulder and a determined set to his mouth.

"I'm sorry." She'd say it a thousand times over. As if reluctant, he glanced at her. "I care about you, Nakos, and I wasn't thinking beyond right this second." Which was completely out of the norm for her.

Obviously, his feelings ran deeper than attraction. She never should've toyed with his emotions. In part, she was glad she'd said something because now she knew for certain instead of simply going off assumption. If they kissed and there was a spark, they could build upon that, perhaps, since the notion was out there. But instinct sent warning knells clanging against her temples, shifting in her gut. He hadn't been wrong, either. Desire wasn't knocking on her door. Not the consuming kind worth risking their solid unit to test the waters.

Conflicted, she rubbed her earlobe between her forefinger and thumba nervous tick she'd had since she was a girl.

"Consider it forgotten." He pointed to the barn. "Work now. Talk later."

They wouldn't talk about it, though. That wasn't their dynamic. He had a way of reading her, and her him, without the need for words. Not that they didn't have open communication. She'd yet to meet anyone more brutally honest or forthcoming than him. But heart-to-hearts? Hell no. Even after Justin died, Nakos had offered no platitudes. He'd just stood next to her, silently watching and letting her know he was there if she crumbled.

She followed him inside the barn and took stock. Baa-baas rent the air and the scent of straw mixed with soil clung to the crisp cross-breeze. He'd rounded up a third of the flock and had some penned on one side of the large space, the rest in the outer holding area just beyond the open rear doorway. Roughly a hundred sheep stalked around while her faithful black and white border collie, Bones, sat idly in the middle of the room, awaiting orders. To the right was a sturdy wooden table where they could roll the wool and a large crate already on a skid for easy transport.

Nakos had sure been busy this morning while waiting for her. Quickly, she removed her canvas jacket and hung it on a peg just inside the door. Since each sheep could produce eight to ten pounds of wool, and the process of shearing required skill, it was harder than most realized. Luckily, she and her foreman had it down to a science.

With Nakos holding the animals in position, she sheared. He rounded the flock and sent them out one-by-one as she rolled and stored in compatible silence. They moved as one like clockwork through lunch and into the late afternoon before they finished with the herd slated for today.

Once the barn was locked tight and the flock out to pasture, they headed up the winding path to the house as daylight faded to dusk. Crickets chirped while their boots crunched over gravel. Bones trotted along beside her, his tongue drooping partly out of his mouth.

She swiped the sweat from her forehead with her arm, chilly now that the temp had dropped. Her muscles cried uncle as she glanced at Nakos. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"No. I've got leftovers from Mae. I'll walk you up, though."

He had a cabin on the ranch's property near the southern ridge, a good ten minute trek. His truck would be in the driveway to get him back home, so seeing her to the house wasn't unusual. But his dismissive tone kept the erected distance firmly between them. Uneasiness coiled in her stomach as they rounded the bend, and she figured she'd give him a couple days before apologizing again. Hopefully, that would get things back to normal.

Stopping abruptly, he glared straight ahead. "Are you expecting company?"

"No." She followed his gaze to his blue pickup truck, partially blocked by the corner of the house. Behind it, parked next to the pine trees lining one side of the driveway, was a motorcycle.

She only knew a handful of people in town who owned a bike, and none would drive it up to her ranch this early in the season. As they got closer, she spotted the telltale green canvas military-issued tote strapped to the back of the seat, and her heart stopped.

"Oh no. Do you think it has something to do with Justin?" He'd been dead six months, though. Who could possibly want to visit her regarding him?

Nakos, jaw tense, glanced from the motorcycle to her, then at the three-story cedar log cabin like he was searching for signs of trouble.

The lights were on downstairs, a yellow glow emitting from the windows. Nothing seemed amiss on the wrap-around porch. The rocking chairs and pots filled with marigolds were in place, the heavy front door closed. All was quiet.

"I'll follow you inside." He jerked his chin, telling her to precede him.

She walked along the side of the house to the tack room in back, where they kicked off their boots and hung their coats. Her stomach somersaulting, she opened the kitchen door, letting Bones inside, and stepped through, Nakos on her heels to close it behind them.

Nothing was going on the six-burner gas stove. The slate countertops were free of dinner clutter, but remnants of something Italian hung in the air.

Aunt Mae rose from the scarred pine table in the center of the room, a teacup in hand, while Bones trotted off into the other room. "There you are. You have a guest."

Olivia glanced at the visitor in question as he unfolded himself from a chair and stood. The legs scraped the floor, and the sound ricocheted off the white distressed cabinets and back to her like a bullet.

Holy crap. The breath backed up in her lungs. Man wasn't the word to use to describe the person standing in her spacious kitchen. Giant, perhaps. All she could do was stare, caught between confusion about who he was and avid fascination.

Easily six feet and a handful of inches, he towered over her, even with the table and several sandstone granite tile squares between them. His head was shaved bald, but he had maybe a day's worth of light brown scruff on his jaw, indicating what color his hair would be. A sleeve of tats ran up both arms and under a fitted white tee that left nothing to the imagination for the definition that lay underneath. Bulging muscles and veins and...testosterone. Yes. A huge wall of testosterone, this guy.

He shoved his huge hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, causing his biceps to bunch. He must've bench-pressed a Buick to get guns that size. "The name's Nathan Roldan, but I go by Nate."

Lord, his voice. Deep, guttural, and with a resounding echo that rumbled through her nervous system. She rolled the name around because it sounded familiar, but no way would she forget him had they met before.

"Do I know you?" She pegged him at close to her age, give or take a year.

"Ah." Aunt Mae smiled, and the anxious tension in the gesture made Olivia's pulse trip. "Why don't you get washed up and we can talk? While we were waiting for you, Nate and I ate. I'll reheat it for you."

Nakos, as if sensing a problem, cozied closer to Olivia's side. He offered her a look that said, I'm not leaving you alone with this guy.

Confused herself, she glanced at the newcomer again. His gaze darted between the two of them before he nodded in some kind of understanding. That made one of them, at least.

"I'm not here to cause trouble." He pulled a wallet out of his back pocket and strode around the table.

His gait was like that of a graceful predator, and now that he was smack in front of her, she took in the details of his face. Fine lines, barely noticeable, wrinkled his forehead. His olive skin was more reminiscent of years in the sun than heritage. A golden tan of light bronze. The soft, slight downcast of his eyelids contradicted the harsh s***h of his brows. So did his full, pouty mouth with the sharp cut of his jawbone.

Damn. He was one beautiful specimen. A little intimidating and extremely rough around the edges, but wow. She wouldn't want to be caught on his bad sideassuming he had a good sideyet the naughty bad boy vibes were like an undercurrent pulling her in.

Don't-mess-with-me meets I-dare-you-to-resist.

He held out what looked like a photo, and she got hung up in the dark brown of his eyes, framed by criminally long lashes. His lips pursed when she failed to take the item from him. "I served overseas with Justin."

At her brother's name, she sucked in a sharp breath and snapped to attention. With a shaking hand, she took the picture and glanced at it.

In camo gear and holding a rifle, Justin stood beside the man before her. A military jeep as the background, the guys posed, Nate's arm around her brother's shoulders. Justin's grin and blue eyes had her throat closing and longing banding her chest. Before she got too emotional, she passed the photo back to Nate and cleared her throat.

He then extracted a driver's license, courtesy of the state of Illinois, and showed her first, then Nakos, who eyed both the card and man like he was one flinch away from going postal. Nakos crossed his arms in a clear what-do-you-want pose.

Nate tentatively glanced at Aunt Mae and back to Olivia when her aunt nodded consent. "I just want to talk, and then I'll leave if you want." His gaze darted between hers, giving her the impression he was looking through her and into some deeper part she didn't know existed. "Before he died, Justin gave me a message for you."