4
Emitting a grumbled curse, Ethan slapped the alarm button on his clock radio when it sounded, the buzzer cutting through his sleep-deprived brain like hot needles. While unsure of when he’d finally managed to fall asleep, he hadn’t gotten nearly enough. The smells of coffee and frying bacon reached his nostrils. Right, Zoë was making breakfast. Wait, how the hell did she get in the house? He leapt up before realizing Skip must’ve let her in. His ranch foreman was an even earlier riser than he. He shook his head at just how out of sorts he was. She was the cause. What a way to start the day. After washing, and dressing, he trotted down the stairs.
Skip was in the dining room and raised both brows when he spotted Ethan who nodded to him. “Yep, got a new cook as you saw. I’ll tell the men before breakfast. Just give me a minute.”
Ethan entered the kitchen to the sight of Zoë zipping around it. Pans containing sausages sizzled on the stovetop, she placed a tray with bacon into the oven, and then turned to him, undoubtedly sensing his presence.
“Good morning,” she chirped.
Obviously, she’d slept fine last night. Her hair was piled in a huge bun on her head, an apron covered her front but seemed to accentuate her shapely ass, and she looked well-rested and fresh. And hot, don’t forget that. He frowned.
“Morning.”
Huffily, he crossed the floor to the counter and the coffee maker. Of course she slept fine, she didn’t have any worries here, did she? Nope, it was all on him, and he’d really done it this time. This was going to blow up in his face. Noticing a tray with mugs, unaware he owned a tray, he snatched one and reached for the coffee pot.
“The carafe is full,” she said airily.
Switching gears, he moved to the carafe, filled the mug, and sipped from it. His dour expression almost lifted. Hot damn that was good coffee! She loaded bread slices into the three toasters on the counter, and then pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge. Her movements were confident, as he’d come to expect, but he had the distinct impression she wasn’t moving as fast as she wanted to, having slowed considerably since bidding him good morning.
“You certainly seem to have things under control,” he remarked and then took another sip of the best coffee he’d ever tasted.
“Yep, this is my thing,” she returned. She put another pan on the stove and turned a dial. “Breakfast will be served at your requested time.”
He left the kitchen to address the men he could hear talking in the dining room, and inform them a woman would be cooking their meals from now on. He also wanted to warn them to keep their distance from her and felt juvenile, telling grown men not to hit on a woman, but he was eager to nip any potential problems in the bud. His no-drama policy on the ranch was not up for debate.
After breakfast, Ethan helped carry dirty dishware into the kitchen and then loaded the dishwasher while Zoë started handwashing pans. Leaving her to her own devices until lunch, he left the kitchen. He had to admit breakfast went well. He’d watched the men carefully when Zoë had emerged from the kitchen and, while they’d seemed shocked by her beauty, they’d all been nothing but pleasant during breakfast. After asking Zoë to join them, he’d introduced the men. He didn’t expect her to remember all their names right away, but he made sure to point out that Skip was his foreman, figuring Skip would be the only man, other than himself, she’d need to have contact with. As they ate and talked, he found he enjoyed the experience, despite his initial efforts not to. Zoë had asked many questions about the ranch and its operations, intelligent ones at that, appeared genuinely interested in the answers, and had commended them for running a humane and sustainable outfit. All in all, the meal had gone so well he was hopeful her employ might run smoothly after all. That was until he exited the house and spotted Skip on the porch, leaning against a support beam, a bemused expression on his face. It was obvious the older man had much to say on the topic.
Ethan closed the door, pulled on his hat, and then stooped to pet his trusty Boxer. The dog had raced to him the instant he left the house, as he did each morning. He roughly rubbed Butthead’s chest, just the way the dog liked it, and then finished up with a hearty thump on his rump. He received a happy sounding sharp bark, and then Butthead regarded him, as he always did, his head held at an odd angle, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, lending an idiotic expression to the poor thing.
As he made for the stairs, Butthead following at his heels, he dipped his head to his foreman. “Out with it, I’ve got work to do.”
Skip fell into stride with him as they trotted down the porch steps. “What on earth possessed you to hire a woman?”
“It seemed the appropriate course of action.” He really didn’t want to have this discussion.
“Appropriate? A woman, on a ranch with eleven men?”
He turned a hard look on his foreman. “Only her and a drunk applied, okay? Besides, she’s not staying, so I could do without the tongue-lashing. This is a temporary arrangement.”
“That’s too bad,” Skip said. “You could do a lot worse than Zoë.”
As Ethan’s wide eyes fell on him, Skip continued. “She’s a wonderful woman, smart, beautiful, and can cook like she was taught to by the devil. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“Skip, really, you need to stop.”
“Let me finish. Soon those looks of yours will fade and then what? Take it from someone who’s made that mistake. Bedding different women is fun, but there comes a time in your life when you need companionship.”
Hardly believing his ears, Ethan stopped in his tracks. When Skip did too, he turned to face his foreman fully, and then crossed his arms over his chest.
“Let me get this straight. You think I should marry Zoë, the woman who’s been here for less than twenty-four hours. Is that what I’m hearing? Because that’s nuts, even coming from your mouth. Really, my days of not taking you seriously are coming to a middle.”
The pair normally exchanged the odd dig, doing the guy thing, ribbing one another, bonding as only men did, and Ethan thought his joking insult would silence Skip. His foreman however seemed intent on offering advice Ethan was in no mood to hear.
“I’m just offering a friendly bit of advice. Planting a seed, if you will. I’m not telling you to rush things, just to keep an open mind where she’s concerned. Don’t be so quick to determine she’s not for you. Give it a chance, get to know her, and then, if you do find she’s the one for you, you’d better put a ring on her finger fast. Good women are hard to come by. Don’t let yours get away.”
Skip flashed him a smile and then moved away. How the hell had Zoë ingratiated herself into Skip’s favour so fast? This was exactly what he’d feared, her mere presence turning the place topsy-turvy. While he firmly believed she was capable of knowingly causing trouble, apparently she didn’t have to put any effort into doing so. Skip was already affected, and Ethan wondered who was next.