Chapter 11

"Well,this is something I never thought I'd see." Mike Paul walked into Taz's kitchen, a comical look on his face. He crossed the room and stood staring. Dressed in work clothes that were covered in mud, he'd at least had the decency to leave his boots at the front door.

"You might want to close your yap. It's hanging open and begging for a fly," Taz said dryly. "We all know where flies spend most of their time."

"Sure do," Mike Paul said, taking a stool at the island. "Sitting on a big pile of shit." He took out his cell phone, snapped a photo and grinned. "Shooting this sucker into the group chat. "Matt Major is going to lose his mind."

Taz swore and grabbed the cookie tray from the oven. It was only Wednesday, but already his week had been a bit of a shit show. He didn't need ribbing from Mike Paul.

"You act like you've never seen a man bake before."

"That's because I haven't."

"What the hell do you eat?"

"Take out or Mama's cooking." Mike Paul cranked his neck for a better look. "That peanut butter?"

"With chocolate chips."

"Milk chocolate?"

"Is there any other kind?"

Mike Paul sat back. "Not in my books. Can I have one?"

"Nope."

"Don't be an asshole. I just had my hand stuck up the back end of one of your heifers. I deserve a reward."

Taz set the cookie tray on the counter to cool. "I hope you washed your hands."

"Look at you, Mr. Martha Stewart." Mike Paul's eyes narrowed a bit. "What's the occasion?"

Taz considered sidestepping the question, but he knew his buddy well enough to know he wouldn't give up. He tossed the oven mitts.

"Scarlett."

Mike Paul was rarely surprised, but the look on his face said everything. "As in Bridgestone?"

"Do you know another one?"

"Nope," Mike Paul replied with a chuckle. "So, your Friday night Dirty Dancing at the Sundowner wasn't a one-time thing."

"We've been hanging out," Taz admitted.

"Huh," Mike Paul said with a slight frown. "I thought you were seeing Nikki."

"Ended it."

"When?"

"Does it matter?" Annoyed, Taz glanced at his watch.

"I guess not." Mike Paul grabbed a cookie and took a bite. "Damn, these are good. They from a box?"

"From scratch." Insulted, Taz made a face before grabbing one for himself.

"That so." Mike Paul finished off the cookie and reached for another one. "If you ever need another income stream, you might want to think about opening up a bakery or something." He paused, mouth full, and took a few seconds to speak. "About Scarlett."

Christ. Taz glared at his friend. "Spit it out, I don't have all day. In fact," he glanced at his watch again. "I've got to leave soon."

"You're taking the whole afternoon off?" Mike Paul looked confused.

"That a crime?"

"No, but it's not like you."

Taz shrugged. "The good thing about me being me, is that I'm the boss and I'm real good at delegating and organizing my time. Liam and Rich have got things covered."

Mike Paul let that marinate for a moment then swiped at the crumbs around his mouth. "Scarlett is like a sister to me. I've known her my whole life and she's been through it lately. I just…you're…shit."

"What the fuck are you trying to say?" Exasperated, Taz nailed him with a look that would make most folks cringe. Did everyone in town think he was a bad idea for Scarlett?

Mike Paul got to his feet, his light demeanor gone. "She's not the kind of girl you play with. She's no Nikki or Daniela, or Eve. And I mean no disrespect to those women. They're just not Scarlett."

At the mention of his past lovers, Taz's frown deepened. "She's like Ivy then." His meaning was clear and Mike Paul's face darkened; he looked away and swore.

"Yes," he finally replied. "She is. She deserves everything."

Taz studied his friend for a few seconds and then sighed. "Look, I don't know what's going on with you and Ivy. She's been gone for months so I'm figuring it's nothing good. I get that you're looking out for a friend. Hell, I respect it. But I'm done talking about my personal life and this is the last conversation we're going to have about it. Scarlett isn't someone I'm using to pass time with. It's more than that. But this is new. It's early days, and I have no idea where we're headed. What I do know is that you and anyone else who seems to think they have an opinion on the matter, need to back off. I won't hurt her. I'm not that guy."

Mike Paul digested his words and then slowly nodded. "Okay." He pointed to the cookie tray. "Can I have one more for the road?"

Taz tossed one to him and followed him to the door. "How's the mare?"

"She's good. The colt is fine. I took blood and we'll get it tested. I also checked on the heifer and she's probably going to calve in the next week or so." Mike Paul opened the door. "You partaking in the rodeo on Saturday?"

"I gave up bull riding a long time ago."

"You don't miss it?"

Taz shook his head. "Nope." The truth of the matter was, he'd never been the guy who lived and breathed rodeoing. And if you took it down another layer, the simple truth was that he'd started up bull riding to piss off his grandfather.

"Where are the girls anyway?"

"Jesus, what is this? An interrogation?"

"Just wondering." Mike Paul scowled.

"At my mom's for the week. Bible camp."

He closed the door behind Mike Paul. Taz had twenty minutes tops. He grabbed a shower, slicked back his wet hair and pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. He had just finished brushing his teeth when he heard knocking. With a toothbrush hanging out of the corner of his mouth, he opened the door and found Scarlett staring up at him, Hank tucked against her chest, snug in a baby carrier.

What the hell?

"I know you were going to pick me up, but it seemed silly to drive all the way to the Triple B when we were coming back here."

He held up his hand and headed for the kitchen so he could spit out the toothpaste, then turned around and wiped his mouth, taking a moment to appreciate the woman who'd followed him.

She wore a pale-yellow tank top, tucked into a pair of jeans, cut off a few inches above her knees. Her hair hung in loose waves, curling over her shoulders, framing a face that was sun-kissed. And her eyes, wide and expressive, seemed to glitter with some kind of energy that should be bottled and sold—it would make millions. Her lips shone with a soft pink gloss and her cheeks were naturally flushed a rosy color.

She was simply…

"You look beautiful," he said moving so that he stood in front of her.

"Oh," she seemed flustered, and ran her hands over her hips. "My shorts are a little tight. I'm still trying to lose the baby?—"

"You're perfect." Taz held her gaze. He wanted her to know he meant it. Then he glanced down. "I can't lie though. I miss your pink slippers."

She laughed, and her eyes never wavered from his. God, the things this woman did to him without trying. At this rate they were never going to leave this house.

"I smell cookies."

"Baked 'em just for you."

"Look at you all fancy in the kitchen. I can boil eggs and make instant noodles and that's about it."

"Yeah? You live on eggs and noodles?"

"We're lucky enough to have Rose and she leaves prepared meals, but Benton knows his way around the kitchen in a pinch."

"Today I've rustled us up some good eats." He lifted his chin. "You ready?"

Taz grabbed the basket off the counter and followed Scarlett outside. He pointed to the barns. "I just have to make a stop." The two of them walked over and he waved at Rich, one of the full-time ranch hands. A drifter and a drunk who'd followed the rodeo circuit, he was a man on the back end of fifty, and one Taz had gotten to know while bull riding. The man had demons he needed to fight and when Taz had gotten the call about his sister's accident that night nearly four years ago, Rich had come back to Montana with him. He"d never left. He'd gotten clean and now Taz relied on him to overlook things when he was busy raising the girls, or like today, busy getting to know Scarlett.

"Ma'am." Rich tipped his hat, the lines on his face dug in deep from years in the sun.

"This is Scarlett," Taz said. "We're heading out for a couple of hours."

"I'm guessing that's why you had me hitch up Van and Halen to the wagon."

"That would be the reason."

A small smile appeared on Rich's face, and Taz knew he'd be asking questions when he got the chance.

"Mike Paul says the heifer is close so you might want to keep an eye on her, and Angel is bringing out two more work horses."

"Where are these ones from?" Rich asked.

"Pennsylvania. They'll need to be quarantined."

"I'll get the stall in the other barn ready for them."

"Thanks. Where's the wagon?"

Rich pointed to the barn. "Inside and ready to go." A pause. "Have a good afternoon, boss."

Taz caught the underlying tease in Rich's voice and winked. "I plan on it." He turned to Scarlett. "You ready?"

"Yes." She smiled at Rich. "Nice to meet you."

"Ma'am."

"Please call me Scarlett. Ma'am makes me sound like an old maid."

"Pardon me for saying, but you're the opposite of an old maid."

She laughed at that. "Good to know."

Taz shepherded her into the barn and got her set up in the wagon. Hank was still snoozing and as they made their way down the path that led to the river, Taz finally relaxed.

"This is not what I expected," she said.

"I like to be unpredictable."

"I can see that. Where are we headed?"

Taz smiled at her and flicked the reigns. "I'm taking you to a little piece of heaven on earth."

"Some would say the entire state of Montana is heaven on earth."

"I might have to agree with that." He leaned close to her, aware of the length of her thigh touching his. "But there's one spot that takes the cake and I've only shared it with my girls."

"Oh." The word fell from her lips, a soft sound that made his heart bang against his chest. The sounds he wanted to hear were a hell of a lot more X-rated. "I can't wait to see it."

Taz told himself to settle the hell down and get a grip. Christ, he wasn't a fifteen-year-old buck on the hunt for a piece of ass. Even if his mind was headed to places he needed to not think about.

He was taking this slow. A novel idea for a man who'd never been serious about a woman in his life. He wasn't an asshole or anything like that—he'd never lied to a lady in his life. That was something his father did. But he'd also never been interested in any woman long enough to consider the things he'd been considering lately. Which was more than casual. More than anything he'd had before. There was something about Scarlett Bridgestone, and whatever that something was, she was worth the going slow part.

She was worth waiting for.