Stables (Black Gulch Ranch #2)

19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Dixon

“No offense, but I’m glad you’re off for a while, doc.” Maggie raises one eyebrow as she flips through the pages of a magazine.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I growl. We haven’t had any patients today, so the hours have dragged.

“Well, you’re not your usual ‘chipper’ self.” Her lips flatten before she rolls her eyes. “How long did you say you’re working at the ranch?”

“Couple of weeks. Gonna miss me, Mag?” I lean back, propping my feet on the desk and lacing my fingers behind my head.

“Like a hemorrhoid, doc.” She glances at the giant clock on the wall. “Love ya, Dr. McCullough, but I’ve never been so glad to see seven roll around.” Pushing her chair across the nursing area, she picks her phone up off the counter and sends a quick text. “Hubby wants pizza tonight. You have big plans?”

She asks me every evening, so I give her the same reply.

“Not this time.”

Except I do. I’m going home to Char.

My house doesn’t have the same appeal any longer. It’s empty, desolate, and too damn quiet.

Maggie squints at me. “Sure, doc.” Shaking her head, she dials one of the few restaurants in town, then moves away to place her order.

I wonder what Char would like?

I’m not a fan of pepperoni. And I have this suspicion that if I ask her what she wants, she’ll tell me “nothing”. On another day, I’d bend her over my knee to discipline her until she sees her worth.

She’ll learn she deserves more.

Idly, I thumb through the stack of menus that sit in a cubby near the computer.

Chinese. Burgers. Mexican.

Yea, that sounds easy. That place has a nacho platter with all of the toppings separated.

She could add what she likes, and I’ll know for next time.

Because there will be more.

She felt too fucking good sitting on my lap. I want to find every single thing she likes.

And where her limits are.

Wearing jeans today was the best decision I could have made. Every time that moment plays through my head, I get hard as a rock. Scrubs are absolutely shit at hiding erections.

“Got a party tonight, doc?” Maggie’s brown eyes are wide when I toss my cell into my pocket.

“What are you talking about?” I start gathering my bag, antsy to get the hell out of here.

“I heard what you ordered, that’s enough to feed a football team.” She pulls her purse over her shoulder and follows me down the hall. “One of every topping? The shrimp at that place is so expensive.”

“Have you seen my nephew eat?” I divert away from her once we hit the dark parking lot.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were heading to the ranch tonight. Have a nice drive, doc.” She gives me a half wave and slides into her car.

Char: Libby has to leave

Seeing her text makes my belly tighten and brings a smile. She listened, and is doing what I told her to do.

Good girl.

Me: I have just one stop, will be there soon

Char: Okay, see you then

There’s a part of me that wants to tell her to be naked when I get there.

Not yet, though.

Because when I pull her dark hair hard enough to arch her luscious throat, I don’t want fear to be flashing through those blue eyes.

Getting her to accept that the last thing I want to do is hurt her will be difficult.

I’m a patient man when I know what I want.

It’s never been a woman.

First it was the ranch, helping Mason get it up and running was a challenge that I eagerly accepted.

Going into business made sense. I was in with both feet to get my masters when my roommate killed his girlfriend.

That shifted me into a different direction.

But medical school was a breeze. It was all about learning then regurgitating the answers.

Then, I was floating without purpose until her.

Char has flipped a switch in me.

At first it was about keeping her safe.

Now, it’s just about keeping her.

And showing her just how damn strong she really is.

The plastic bag on my passenger seat bleeds condensation when I pick it up and carry it to the porch.

Pausing, my hand sits on the handle of the door.

She told me not to knock.

When I push the worn brass down and step into the living room, I feel like I’ve pushed through some sort of veil.

I belong here.

The broad smile on Char’s face just solidifies the feeling.

“Hi.” Her blue eyes focus on the food in my hand. “Oh. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to. But I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little of everything.” Okay, a lot. There has to be fifteen pounds of nacho stuff here.

After toeing off my boots, I carry it into the kitchen and set it on the bare counter.

I’ll lay everything out, she can decide what she feels like.

There’s a tug on the knee of my jeans.

“Uppie.” Paisley holds her palms above her head, clenching her fingers.

“Yes, ma’am.” I scoop her up so she straddles my waist, then continue pulling styrofoam containers out of the bag.

“I try some? Please?” She loses the ‘L’ in her word making it sound more like “peas”.

It’s cute that she uses manners.

“Char? Is there anything she can’t have?” I start to call over my shoulder, but see she’s moving closer.

At least tonight she’s wearing a button down shirt and jeans.

Safer than those damn red shorts.

She peels the lids off of a few of the containers. “I don’t think she’s ever tried shrimp, but everything here is fair game.” Picking up a sliver of chicken, she holds it up so Paisley can reach it.

“Do you like it?” I snag a curled up piece between my fingers.

“Oh, yes. It’s just, um, I haven’t bought any in a long time.” Her lower lip rolls between her teeth.

I bet I know why.

“Here.” I dangle the bit of seafood in front of her tantalizing mouth.

Take it. Show me you’ll let me feed you.

Provide for you.

She pauses, looking up at me. Her palm lights on my wrist, and she rises on her toes to curl her glistening hot tongue into the gap of my fingers, tugging the succulent shrimp from between them.

She gives me a sultry smile, then swallows. “You spoil me, Dixon.”

“It’s what a man is supposed to do.” I want to tangle into her dark tresses and pull her closer.

But I don’t.

She hesitated. Just for a moment, so there’s still that seed of distrust that is floating through her.

I can’t blame her.

I won’t push her.

That tongue is going to be the death of me, though.

Paisley smacks her lips happily, kicking her feet into my side. “More, please.” She leans away from me, reaching for the closest container.

It’s like holding onto an octopus as she wriggles.

“Okay, baby girl. How about you sit in your chair and we’ll have dinner?” Char turns and pulls some clean dishes from the drain rack by the sink while I thread Paisley into her seat. She takes the smallest plate and puts a tiny portion of several different meats and veggies for Paisley.

Only after her daughter is taken care of does Char serve herself.

She’s a good mother.

I wonder how she’d fare with more? What would she look like with a ripe belly poking beneath the hem of her shirt?

Fuck, it makes the blood rush to my cock thinking about it.

“My brother needs help up at the ranch moving cow-calf pairs to the late summer pasture.” I let my words hang in the air.

Char pokes at a piece of grilled pepper, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll get a hold of Libby.”

“For what?” I rake up a dollop of sour cream and guacamole with two chips. “I’m not leaving you alone. We can bring Whiskey if you want to put some miles on her.”

Does she know it makes my belly tingle when she opens and closes her mouth like that?

“I, um. I just can’t show up at your family’s house with a horse uninvited.” She moves her food around on her plate.

“Char. I’m inviting you. You go where I do, you’re important to me.” My jaw ticks watching the pink shade move up her throat. “Unless you don’t want to, I won’t force you.”

What I want to do is push her to her knees and give her something to suck on if she wants to be petulant.

Later.

“Don’t you think it’d be weird? I mean, it’s not like we’re, um…” She trails off, absentmindedly licking melted cheese off her thumb. “What about Paisley?”

“What about her? She’s a part of you. Besides—” I lean back, propping my elbow over the back of my chair. “—you don’t know Sophia very well. She’ll be begging to hang out with her. And Lori will want to talk babies, I’m guessing, since she just had Jack a couple of months ago.” Pinching a piece of tomato, I hold it up before popping it into my mouth. “She’s trying to learn how to garden. Now that I think of it, she may not let you leave.” I give Char a crooked grin, but it doesn’t lessen the furrow in her forehead.

Her knees rise to her chest and she perches on her chair, hugging her legs. “I’m not very good with new people. I don’t want to embarrass you.” She fidgets with a frayed hem on the cuff of her jeans.

Fuck.

If I could rip out Matt’s throat, I would without blinking.

He did this to her.

How do I fix this?

“The work won’t start until next week. Mason wants me up there for dinner so we can plan things out. That might not be so bad? Then you tell me if you want to go back. He’s done it without me before.” I shrug, hoping that she understands that her comfort is more valuable to me than chasing cattle in the hot sun.

Her nod is short, and she stands quickly to pick up the mostly full containers of food. One by one, she empties them into smaller portions and begins putting them into either the fridge or freezer.

Shit, she’s saving them.

Finances must be tighter than she’s letting on.

How has she been doing this by herself?

It doesn’t matter. She won’t have to anymore. I just need to convince her to let me help.

Baby steps.

“Dinner would be fine.” She turns far enough to give me a weak smile before returning her focus on the leftovers.

I’m drawn to her strength, it pulls me from the table to move behind her.

But when my palms touch her arms, there’s a flinch.

It’s almost imperceptible.

She needs more time.

I’m tempted to pull her to me, then kiss away the fear that’s shutting her down. But I step away instead. “I’m proud of you,” I say quietly.

“All done.” Paisley raises her arms and clinches her fingers towards me.

I’m grateful for the distraction. “Let’s clean up your hands.” Grabbing a damp washcloth, I wipe her mess as I’ve seen Char do it, then scoop her out of her high chair to let her loose on the toys in the living room.

When I glance at Char, I catch the tears streaking her cheeks.

What the hell should I do?

That asshole broke her in ways I’ll never know.

Patience. She deserves it.

I know she’s worth the wait.