I can feel my eyes widen from his anger toward my ex but then his other words settle. “Your brothers. But they don’t look like you.” I wince and add, “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.”
He holds up his hand and then taps the patch on his leather cut. “Club brothers. The ranch functions also as our clubhouse.”
“Cowboy biker boys, like Grams mentioned,” I muse and he nods in agreement.
“Old ladies are treated with respect and no one dares to bother them or the whole MC will rip them apart.”
Relief floods me. “Perfect,” I sigh but then quickly realize. “Unless you already have a girlfriend or want another one. I don’t want to be a bother to anyone. I just want to be left alone to focus on myself and my new business. My parents intend to come over some time soon and then they will question if me moving here all by myself was wise. And I really don’t need the insecurity or self-doubt. They’ve been questioning my sanity ever since I decided to start a new business here by myself. They also think I am hiding from men and must be scarred for life and how I should find the right man and open myself up for a new relationship. But I’m done. And I’m not broken. Absolutely not. I just want to catch my breath and focus on what I think matters. Besides…men are dicks and I don’t want to be tied down to anyone at this point in my life, but I hate the fact my parents worry about me. And to be completely honest? I don’t know anyone here and I’m all alone. My friends left last night and I could really use someone I can call who is close enough.”
All good reasons, right? Besides, this man is safe enough because he knew my grandmother and is my neighbor.
“What happened?” he questions.
My forehead furrows and it freaking hurts so I quickly stop frowning. “What do you mean?”
“What did your dick of an ex do?” he clarifies.
“I need coffee for this conversation,” I grumble and stalk out of the bedroom and head for the kitchen.
Standing on my tiptoes, I lean over the sink and open the kitchen window.
I curl my tongue back, put my index and ring finger into my mouth, and give a sharp whistle. Pulling my fingers out of my mouth, I bellow, “Good morning, Purdy. How are ya, babe?”
The miniature horse that once belonged to my grandmother throws her head up and neighs.
“Fuck, that’s cute,” Redding says from right beside me.
My heart races due to his closeness and I drop the window, quickly stepping away and get busy making coffee.
Distracting myself I tell him, “She’s a miniature therapy horse. She was born right here. Grams raised and trained her and demanded I take her with me when I left for my internship with a therapy horse instructor. I finished my internship three months ago but I stayed to expand my experience. Grams was the one who made me sign up after I got my Bachelor’s degree in psychology. She knew I wanted to combine a future job with therapy horses. Then my boyfriend cheated on me, Grams died…so, I quit my job and moved back here. I don’t need to work with the inheritance she left me. Truth be told? I want to do what Grams once did with what she left me: breed therapy horses and train them. I have the qualifications and I was already doing it but as a job, for someone else. Now I get to do it by myself. But again, my parents don’t think I can handle living here by myself and then last night one guy after the other asked me out and then you interfered and I just think it would make my life easier for now.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “If I say yes, will you stop rambling and breathe so you can relax?”
“Yes.” I release a deep sigh. “So, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah. But the whole fake relationship does need a few ground rules and effort to make it believable.”
I narrow my eyes. “Such as?”
“Kissing. Holding hands. Small touches in public, that kind of stuff. And we need to spend time together. But…I might as well come clean when I say I’d fucking like to have you as mine. For fucking real, no fake shit, ‘cause this instant connection between us feels good and right. You’re gorgeous and our kiss was damn phenomenal. Most of my brothers have an old lady and it’s no fun during barbecues and such, and we have a lot of that shit coming up so I need you there for me as well. It’s a two-way street, right?”
I bite my bottom lip and start to think this might be more complicated than I thought it would be. And did he say he wants us to be real instead of fake?
“Come on, you said it yourself, you’re alone here and the MC is filled with old ladies. You’ll fit right in and have a bunch of friends. Hey, my prez’s old lady and my VP’s old lady are vets, you’ll mingle and have great contacts. Not to mention, I’ve been studying veterinary medicine and have spent time being groomed by a farrier, I’m totally useful to have around if you’re breeding horses. See? Two way street with all kind of benefits.”
“Fine,” I mutter and reach for the cabinet with the mugs but Redding beats me to it and grabs two mugs to place them on the counter.
“I don’t know why she would always place those things so damn high. Your grandmother always made me grab them when she made me tea.”
Sadness and happiness from the reminder of something so uniquely Grams hits me all at once and I choke on half a sob, half a laugh.
“Aw, fuck,” Redding grumbles and he pulls me into his body. “There, see? Fake boyfriend hugs to the rescue.”
Okay, now I’m fully laughing out loud. I have my fists full of his leather cut and pull him close, taking in his scent. Leather, clean yet spicy, something herbal, and all male. His lips brush the top of my head and I close my eyes for a moment to take a deep breath. Instantly I start to relax; this is exactly what I needed.
“Thank you,” I sincerely tell him. “I really needed that.”
“You and me both.” He places another kiss on the top of my head. “Now get me some coffee because my dick likes this hugging a little too much and isn’t aware of the whole fake deal we have going on between us.”
I can feel what he’s talking about and yet I don’t have it in me to move.
“Or not and we can take this to the bedroom. I could also toss you on the counter, spread your legs and have your pussy for breakfast.”
Tingles spread hot through my body and I have to step away from him. I clear my throat and completely ignore his dirty talk. In the blink of an eye, I have coffee sitting in front of us and I stare into the mug as if it has all the answers I need in life.
“Any plans for today?” Redding questions.
“The stallion I bought is coming today. He’s from the same bloodlines as Purdy. I also bought two mares, one is coming next week and I have to make arrangements to pick up the other one. I don’t have a trailer, it’s on my long lists of things I need to do and buy.”
“This is something for the long run, buying miniature horses to breed with and then train them while in the meantime you can work with Purdy,” he muses.
“Yes, and I’m not going to let anything distract me or hold me back from reaching my business goals. Having you as my fake boyfriend will help to keep me focused and I don’t have to explain myself to my parents or anyone else for that matter. They will be relieved to know someone is watching out for me. And if Pierre shows up, I can tell him to piss off because I’ve moved on. If last night at the bar was any indication with those men asking if I wanted a drink or join them for one, I’d say I’m freed of that too.”