Brutal Heir (Billionaire Heirs #2)

Chapter 15

Ezequiel

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she says, looking up from the half-eaten dinner. “Why is this called the Torres House? What’s a Torre or Torres ?” She scrunches her eyebrows.

“Torres is a last name.” I haven’t dealt with outsiders in so long that it seems weird to have to explain that to someone. Although, one look at her pale skin and red hair and you know she’s not a local. “It was built by Addler’s family a couple of generations before his grandfather married into the family.”

“Generations?” she asks skeptically. “So I guess that means you weren’t the one who planted the roses?” she asks, trying to hide a teasing smile.

“No.” My tone should leave no doubt. But the damn things are the main reason she’s here now, so I shouldn’t complain. “They were there before his grandmother was born.”

Sage looked surprised. “Was she born here?”

I nod. “She was here for a while when she was a girl. But there was some question about the ownership of the ranch. By the time that was worked out, she was married.”

“It was years, then.”

“Yes. They only stayed here for a few months, while the old man built the main house. Then he added a wing for her folks and moved them over there.”

“He took his in-laws to live with them?” Sage’s voice is incredulous.

“I know.” I shrug. “But the old man really liked her old man.”

Sage glances around the kitchen, taking in the custom cabinets and butcher block counters. “This place doesn’t look like it’s been around that long.”

I nod. “It’s been remodeled over the years.”

“It’s really nice,” she said, eyes brightening with apparent surprise.

“I like it.” I’m not above feeling a swell of pride, knowing I’m the one who did the work.

“Nothing like the place I’m staying.” She makes a face. “It’s basically a man camp. Those trailers are old. They’ve probably been used by hundreds of men over the years, and nobody’s bothered to even paint the place, much less do any upgrades.”

“Some people don’t like to change things much.”

Sage raises an eyebrow. “It makes me wonder, why would anyone remodel a house with so much history tied directly to the family?”

“The house is old enough that I’d be chopping wood to cook and drawing water up from a well, using rope and a metal bucket.”

She looks over at the gas stove then at the faucet with the water purification system. “Ah, I didn’t even think of that.”

“The old man was good with the change,” I say, thinking back to the conversation. “Said it was better to have someone make it livable than to have the place be abandoned.”

“Is that Roman de Marco?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“I’ve heard about him,” she murmurs under her breath, tapping her fork on a lasagna noodle.

“I’d be surprised if you hadn’t.” The man’s a local legend. And with the family keeping to themselves so much, it’s only worked to make people curious about the whole lot. “He’s another one who doesn’t like snakes.”

“Oh?” That catches her full attention.

“He used to have a snake roundup. Any of the cowboys who brought one in got a bonus added to his weekly pay.”

“Well that was nice…I think,” she says, sounding like she hasn’t figured out how to feel about the old man’s edict.

“Seems one got too close to Addler when he was a kid. The old man wasn’t willing to risk his only grandson getting bit, so he set out to make this a safer place.”

“I can see his reasoning.” She nods. “Do they still do that?”

“No. He stopped sometime after Addler went off to school.” I take another drink from the bottle of Mexican Coke.

“That makes sense.” She cuts off a chunk of noodle and eats it.

“You can fix yourself something else to eat if you don’t like the lasagna. I should have stuff in the fridge and a stocked pantry.” It’s one of the meals Mayela left me, so I don’t have to mess with cooking during the week. Personally, it’s one of my favorite things to eat, along with the garlic bread, but she may be one of those picky eaters.

“Oh.” She straightens in her chair. “No, this is delicious,” she says, turning back to the plate. She has another forkful of what must be cold lasagna now. Then again, like pizza, this stuff is still good even when it’s been sitting out. “It might be too delicious,” she admits. “I love pasta, but…”

She stops herself and squirms in her chair.

“But?” I’m not about to let her off the hook.

She blows a breath out, keeping her gaze pointed away from me. “I gain weight really easily.”

“You got no complaints from me.” I take in every inch of her body until a blush builds up on her cheeks. “Then again, I suppose I wore you out.”

“I guess you did.” The color turns a deeper red.

“If you’re ready to call it a night, go ahead. I’ll show you where the bedroom is.” I point to the hall.

“That actually sounds fantastic.” She gives me a tired smile. “I’m sorry. I feel like such a wimp,” she admits, hunching her shoulders as if she’s not comfortable with admitting that.

I wave it off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s probably your bedtime anyway.” I’ve seen the people from Kelly Oil & Gas pull into the yard at six or seven. They have about an hour drive to get out here from either Carrizo or Laredo. That means they get up at four or five to start their day.

She stands. “Let me help with the kitchen.”

“I got it.” While I normally use disposable, I figured having stuff to clean up would give her time to do whatever women do before they go to bed.

“Do you mind if I grab a shower first?” she asks, setting her chair back then moving to put her plate in the sink.

“Yeah, go on in.” I point toward the bedroom. “I’ll wait until after you shower to do the dishes so I don’t use up all the hot water.”

“Let me just go out and get my bag from the truck.” She’d mentioned spending the night in Laredo, so she must have packed.

“I’ll go get your clothes,” I say, stopping her in her tracks. “It’s dark out, and you parked far away from the house.” I slip on some shoes and grab my gun belt.

“I didn’t want to park on the grass,” she says nervously. “Um, is that really necessary?” She folds her arms under her breasts as she watches me work the buckle.

“There’s a lot worse than snakes out there.”

“I suppose so.” Sage’s gaze drifts to the window, the corners of her mouth turning down.

“As a rule, it’s better to have it and not need it.” Normally, I’d just stick my gun at my lower back, but I have no idea what her suitcase looks like. “Where do you have your keys?”

She reaches into her pocket pulling out a key fob that doesn’t have a single key on it. Probably one of those switchblade keys, but what about a key to her place, or the office?

“The clicker is all you need to get in.” She points at the button for the door.

“Let me go ahead and bring it in closer, just in case. I’ll park it around this side of the house, by my truck.”

She chews on her lip for a second. “Only company personnel should drive the company trucks.”

Of all the crap to worry about. But then, she’s the one who runs security.

“You realize Addler owns the company.”

“Um, yeah. I guess so.” She hands over the key. “As long as you have the fob, you just need to press the button on the dash to get it to start.”

I pull the front door open then scan the area before I flip the lights on and check again. No movement anywhere. Satisfied, I step outside. While I’ve never had a problem, even when I have to go to the back and check any animals I might have to keep in the corral, you never know what or who might be in the shadows. And I’m not about to put her in danger.

I reach her truck, check the bed then the window to the back seat then press the button on the fob. As soon as I open the door, I know I’m going to have a problem. The seat’s too far forward for me to get in behind the wheel. I move the seat back so I have enough leg room then climb in.

Moving the truck around the house, I park it by the kitchen entrance, right next to mine. I catch sight of the same flower that got me thinking about her.

Yeah, I didn’t have much of a problem with the length of her legs earlier. I was able to move her around wherever I wanted without a single problem.

I get down and move to the back door then reach for the duffel bag on the seat. The bra she wore is on the floorboard. I reach for it, fingering the lace along the edge, then bring it to my nose, inhaling her scent. Yeah, she’s all woman.

With that, I close the door behind me, hit the alarm, and head back into the house. The image of the white rose stuck in my head.