Holiday Hire (The Cartwright Family #2)

Chapter 4

4

Phoebe

A lexander shifts nervously. He opens a door and cautiously states, "This is your room." He waves for me to go in first.

I step past him, inhaling the same intoxicating scent as the first day I met him, wondering how a man can smell so good after working on a ranch for hours. I place my purse on the bed and then glance around the neutrally decorated space that matches what I've seen of the rest of the house.

This place needs some color.

"This up to your standards?" Alexander inquires.

I smile, offering, "This is a big room."

He points to the wall. "I'm glad you approve. The bathroom is next door, and the linen closet is in the hallway. I'll grab you a set of towels, but if you need fresh ones this week, help yourself."

"Okay."

He vanishes momentarily, only to reappear with a set of brown towels. He places them on the desk, spins back to face my direction, and fixes his gaze on me.

My butterflies erupt. I open my mouth and then shut it.

"Is there something you want to say?" he asks.

"No. I'm good."

"You sure? Because you opened your mouth, then shut it. So my instincts tell me you have something on your mind. Best if you spit it out, then I can answer any question you have," he gruffly informs.

I blurt out, "Did I hear you say you thought I was staying in your parents' house?"

He clenches his jaw, sighs, then admits, "Yes."

"Oh, sorry."

His eyes turn to slits. "You weren't surprised you'd be staying here instead of there?"

I shake my head. "No. Your mom showed me your house when I was here before."

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Figures."

For some reason, I feel bad for Alexander. I know he doesn't want me here, but it appears his family is calling the shots. Yet the vibe I get from him is that he's usually in full control. "I'm sorry you didn't know. I'll make sure I inform you about things that they might not tell you. Not that there will be more things...but if there are..."

He tenses.

His expression makes me nervous. It's as if he's debating whether to believe me or not.

"I will," I vow.

He slowly nods. "Thank you. That would be nice—especially about things concerning my sons or home."

"Understood. Ummm..." My pulse quickens.

"What is it?"

"Can I be blunt?"

"Haven't you been?"

"Have I?" I question, wondering if I've overstepped.

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

His stare intensifies until I feel like my cells are on fire. He asks, "Why are you sorry? I'm not a magician who can read minds. I prefer bluntness over games any day."

"That's good. I only play games with kids, or maybe on family game night." I nervously laugh.

He stays quiet, his leer pressing down on me.

I add, "So I won't play any games with you."

He grinds his molars, inhaling a deep breath of air.

"Unless you want me to?" I laugh again, tapping my fingers on my thigh.

Why did I say that?

His eyes dart to my legs. It's not the first time I've caught him staring at them today. I'm unsure what to make of it. His parents told me to dress casually on the ranch, including when I came for the interview. Since the weather is still abnormally hot for this time of year, I put on my shorts. I wonder if he disapproves.

He dryly asks, "How many tattoos do you have?"

Anxiety creeps into my gut. "Several."

"That's not a clear answer."

I tease, "Isn't the mystery part of my stunning magnetism?"

"Since I won't be undressing you, an answer would be appreciated."

I reprimand myself, realizing my statement sounds flirty.

I'm not flirting with him.

I did.

Nope!

Heat crawls up my cheeks. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I was suggesting anything," I admit, a blush exploding on my face. I bite my lip, still under his darkening gaze.

He blinks twice, his face hardening, and he stands taller, looming over me. He says, "Good to know."

My pulse pounds between my ears. I glance at his bulging bicep, taut against the sleeve, as if it might break the material.

Stop staring!

My eyes dart down the V of his waist, and his belt buckle with a C on it.

He pulls me out of my trance, asking, "So, how many?"

For some reason, I don't want to tell him. "Why do you want to know? Are you a tattoo hater?"

"No. I have a few."

Surprised, I arch my eyebrows. I assumed Alexander was too straitlaced to ink his body. Now, I'm curious. "Really? Where? And what are they?"

His lips twitch. "Ladies first."

"Nope! I'll follow your lead," I state, pretending to lock my mouth and throw away the key.

He crosses his arms in disapproval.

Something tells me not to cave and tell him. But maybe I should since he's my boss and determines whether I keep my job or not. Yet I decide to change the subject, asking, "What time do the boys get home from school?"

He doesn't flinch. "In about an hour."

I smile. "Great. I'm going to unpack, if that's okay?" I open my purse, rifle through it, and pull out a pair of nail clippers. I select the closest box and try to tear the tape.

Alexander scoffs, then steps up next to me. He opens a pocket knife, stating, "Let me help."

"That's chivalrous of you," I tease.

"You don't know what chivalry is, remember?" he replies, and it's the first time I've witnessed him smile. He slides the sharp edge of his knife over the tape.

"What's with you and chivalry?"

He moves to the next box, slicing through it just as seamlessly. He turns, challenging, "Is there something wrong with treating a woman like a woman?"

"Did I say that?"

He assesses me a moment, then answers, "No, but I'm trying to decide if you're just used to boys who will always be boys or if you're one of those feminists who refuse to let a man step into his role."

"His role?"

Alexander nods. "Yes, his role in life."

Confused, I question, "Which is?"

He grunts. "A man's role is to care for his woman and family."

"And that's achieved by opening doors?"

"It's a sign of respect for a woman."

"Is it?" I ask, not because I feel one way or the other but because I'm unaware of these viewpoints. Lance has never held a door open for me, nor had any guy I dated before him.

Very adamantly, he declares, "Yes, it is."

I shift on my feet, feeling naive. It's rare I do, but right now, I feel ignorant. I open the box, pull a handful of clothes out, and say, "Okay, good to know."

He stares at my hand, and I glance at the black lace lingerie. My mouth turns dry. I quickly go to the dresser, open a drawer, toss them inside, and shut it. I spin and chirp, "I really should get unpacked."

He nods, finishes cutting the tape off the boxes, and steps outside the room. Then he turns back and says, "There's one thing you should know about me, Phoebe."

My chest tightens. I tease, "You have tattoos of unicorns on your ass?"

He stills, then breaks out in a smile. "No. Why would you even suggest something so ridiculous?"

I shrug. "You train horses. Maybe you think they're magical or something. I don't know."

His smile grows. "Well, horses are magical, but without a fake horn on their head."

"Good to know. I'll remember that if I ever decide to take up riding."

He pretends to be in shock, his mouth hanging open.

I ask, "What?"

As if I committed a crime, he questions, "You've never ridden a horse?"

"No."

"And my family hired you?"

My nerves reappear at full throttle. I admit, "It didn't come up in the job interview."

"How is that possible?"

"I… I don't know." I furrow my eyebrows.

Great. I'm going to get fired before the week is over because of my lack of riding skills.

"My boys ride," he says.

"Yes, I know."

"Guess you're going to need a crash course in riding if you're going to do your job this week," he declares.

I open my mouth and shake my head. "No. Umm...that's okay. I'll do my job from the ground."

He steps back into the room and crosses his arms, making his biceps strain harder against the T-shirt. In a teasing yet stern tone, he questions, "Phoebe Love, are you scared to ride a horse?"

I debate if I should confess my fear.

Amusement fills his expression. "You are, aren't you?"

I stay quiet.

He purses his lips and spins, walking out of the room and calling out, "Get unpacked. Lessons will start once the boys are home."

I rush toward the door. "Alexander, it's okay. I can do my job and not get on a horse."

He turns. "My boys will be riding all over this ranch. If you're going to be in charge of them, you'll have to ride with them. But we can end the week now if you're not up for the challenge."

My heart pounds within my chest cavity.

Alexander waits me out a few moments, then declares, "Okay. Decision made. I'll get some tape for your boxes."

"No! I'll..." My stomach flips.

He arches his eyebrows.

I release an anxious breath. "I'll learn to ride."

What am I saying?

His expression shows both surprise and approval. "Great. I'll saddle Coco up."

"Don't you have to return to work?" I ask, trying to think of how to get out of this sudden requirement.

He shakes his head. "Nah. I've always got time to make sure my boys have the resources necessary to ensure their supervision."

I'm not getting out of this.

I'm going to get hurt, maybe paralyzed.

As if he can read my mind, he adds, "You can stop freaking out. There's no one better to teach you how to ride than me."

"Can't I ride something else?" I ask.

Amused, he questions, "Like what?"

"I don't know. Anyone or anything other than a horse?"

"Anyone?" He arches his eyebrows.

Mortified at the realization of what I just said, I gape at him.

He chuckles, then says, "Let's stick with Coco."

"Coco?" I mumble, still embarrassed.

"Yeah. She's our fastest horse."

"What?" I shriek.

He chuckles. "I'm kidding. Don't worry. Coco won't hurt you. She's our tamest horse, and is perfect for a beginning rider."

It should make me feel better, but it doesn't calm my fears.

Alexander points to my legs. "I suggest you put on a pair of jeans."

I meekly reply, "Okay."

"See you outside," he cheerfully proclaims and then disappears.

I do nothing for a moment, then force myself to unpack, unable to stop thinking about how I'll get out of riding. I'm breaking down the last box when the kids come home.

"Phoebe!" Ace sings.

I step out of the room, and he flings himself at me.

"Whoa!" I laugh, hugging him.

"Hey, Phoebe," Wilder calls out, waving from near the door.

"Hi!" I reply.

Ace pulls away, gushing, "Dad said we get to teach you how to ride?"

My gut dives. "That's what I hear."

"He says you're scared," Wilder adds.

"Well, that was nice of him to say," I reply.

Ace insists, "You don't have to be scared. Horses won't be mean to you unless you're mean to them."

"Is that so?"

"Yep! Plus, Dad taught us all the tricks to get them to do what we want. We'll show you!" Ace exclaims.

I put on a false smile. "Great. Did you two want a snack?"

"Yes! I'm starving," Wilder replies.

"Okay. Let's see what's in the kitchen."

"We don't keep a ton here. Most of the good food is in the main house," Ace informs me.

"I'll be the judge of that," I state, and go into the kitchen with the boys in tow. I open the refrigerator, but the only things in it are fresh milk, jelly, cheese, orange juice, and three bottles of beer.

"We eat almost all our meals at Grandma and Grandpa's. Everyone there cooks better than Dad anyway," Wilder declares.

"I see. But what's in here?" I open the pantry. There are a few boxes of cereal, a jar of peanut butter, half a loaf of bread, and some crackers.

"See, we told you so," Wilder chirps.

I shut the pantry, making a mental note to get some food in the house. I tell the boys, "Guess we're going to the main house. Lead the way."

Ace and Wilder guide me to their grandparents' place. Alexander's with his brothers, running horses in a circle inside the corral. He's shouting orders, and sweat soaks the back of his T-shirt.

"I was wondering when I'd see all of you," Ruby's voice interjects, tearing my gaze off her son.

I admit, "There isn't a lot of food in the house."

"Yes, I know, dear," she says with a smile. Then she pats my shoulder and suggests, "Maybe you can help get some basics in their pantry and fridge?"

I nod. "Sure."

We all go into the kitchen. A bowl of mixed fruit, cheese chunks, and nuts sits on the table. The boys grab handfuls of food.

"Did you wash your hands?" I ask.

They freeze.

I point to the sink. "Go on."

They obey, and Ruby gives me a satisfied look. She says, "Help yourself to anything in our home, Phoebe. Our things are yours, so don't hesitate to eat or use what you need. Okay?"

"Thank you," I reply, grateful. The moment I met her, I liked her. She's nice, and clearly a very strong woman. I know she cares a lot about her family.

The boys finish washing their hands, and I take their spot at the sink. I scrub up, dry off, then grab a few raspberries and almonds.

We eat in silence until Ruby says, "I heard you're going to learn to ride today?"

My apprehension reappears. "Is this really a requirement for the job?"

Her lips form a tight smile. She stares at me.

"It is?"

She shakes her head. "No, not a requirement. At least not for me."

"But it is for Alexander?"

Ace chimes in, "You don't have to be scared."

"Yeah, riding is awesome!" Wilder states.

Ruby stares at me, then says, "Boys, go see what your father and uncles are doing. Phoebe will be out soon."

They don't argue, running out of the house.

When the door slams shut, Ruby says, "You know how I told you Alexander will push you to see what you're made of?"

My stomach flips. "Yes."

"This is one of those times."

Silence fills the air.

She continues, "And you remember how I told you that it's always your choice to get pushed or push back?"

"Yes."

"Well, you always have that choice, dear."

I stare at her, finally admitting, "I don't understand how I can push back on this one. He's adamant that I ride in order to take care of the boys."

"Why is he so adamant about it? Answer that, and the solution will come."

I rack my brain, but nothing comes to me.

Ruby steps in front of the window and says, "Come here, Phoebe."

I do as she asks.

"Why did he say you had to learn to ride?"

"To watch the kids since they'll be all over the ranch."

"Okay, so what is the problem, and what is the solution? That is, if you're not ready to learn to ride?"

I think for a moment, then snap my fingers, answering, "I need to find a way to keep up with the boys, but not on a horse."

She nods, smiling. "That's right. So, figure that out, but I suggest you do it before you step outside. Because once you do, you'll have all those men and my grandsons trying everything they can to get you on Coco." She points to the horse Alexander leads across the yard and toward the corral.

My pulse skyrockets. The magnificent white horse moves with confidence and beauty. It doesn't calm my nerves. If anything, it makes me more anxious.

Ruby leans into my ear and says, "It's all in front of you. I have faith you'll figure it out." She pats me on the shoulder and then leaves the room.

I scan the ranch, trying to calm down. No solutions come to me. Then Alexander catches me staring at him and curls his finger in a "come here" gesture.

"Oh crap," I murmur, clenching my thighs.

What the hell is wrong with me?

That man wants me to get on a horse, knowing I'm petrified.

He's sexy.

No, he's not!

I step away from the window.

What am I going to do?

I peek out the other window, fretting, and then my solution comes to me. But I need to ensure I'm interpreting what Ruby said correctly.

I leave the kitchen, move through the house, and call, "Ruby!"

She replies, "In the living room."

I step inside and ask, "When you said I can help myself to anything, did that include everything on the ranch, or is anything off-limits?"

She grins. "Ah, you've found your solution."

"Yep!"

"Great! You can use whatever you want as long as no one's safety is at risk."

"Funny you say that when they all want me to get on a horse," I comment.

She laughs. "Phoebe, I'm confident you'll learn to ride at some point while on our ranch."

"No, I won't."

"We'll see."

"Okay, but I can use anything as long as it's safe, correct?"

"It's a free-for-all," she sings, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Perfect." I exit the room and go back into the kitchen. I step outside the side door and stroll over to an ATV. As I suspected, the keys are in it. So I get on it, turn it on, and put it in gear.

When I turn the corner, everyone stops and stares at me. I pull up to the corral and park the ATV.

"What are you doing on that?" Alexander asks.

I beam at him. "Your mom said I can utilize anything on the ranch. So, there's no need to learn to ride. I can watch the boys on this."

Alexander's expression reveals a mix of competing emotions. If I'm not mistaken, it's disappointment but also approval. Yet the longer he stares, the more his approval fades. His eyes darken, narrowing under the shade of his cowboy hat.

Feeling like it's time to make my escape, I turn toward the boys. "Why don't you show me around the ranch?"