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Authors: Carolyn Brown
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later, they’ll appreciate having to learn to do for themselves.”
“They might fire you,” he said.
She turned around to check on something in the oven. When she bent over, he couldn’t take his eyes off the back seam in her jeans that ran right down the middle of that perfectly rounded butt.
“I wasn’t lookin’ for a job when I found this one. I expect I could find another one without too much trouble,” she said.
“If you’re fryin’ eggs, I like mine over easy,” he said hoarsely as he shut his eyes tightly. Still the image of her cooking breakfast in faded jeans lingered on and on.
“Two over-easy eggs comin’ right up, boss man. You got a problem with me makin’ the girls learn to work, tell me now before I make them mad.”
“It didn’t kill me and I’m not boss man . I’m plain old Mason. Did you ever think hard work was going to make you wither up and die when you had to work on the ranch where you grew up?”
She broke two eggs into an iron skillet. “Couple of times, but I was wrong. Didn’t your housekeepers or nannies make them do chores?”
“Honey, there hasn’t been anyone mean enough to make them do much of anything since their mama passed. I have the nanny service in Dallas on speed dial, if that tells you anything,” he said.
Eggs, bacon, biscuits, and hash browns covered the plate she set before him on the table, and then she removed a pan of muffins from the oven and shook powdered sugar on the tops. He forced his eyes on the plate rather than taking another peek at her rear end, but now her breasts were close enough that he could reach out and kiss one. He quickly snapped his eyes shut and counted to ten before he opened them.
“Muffins will be cooled enough to eat by the time you finish that.” Her voice was laced with honey and soothing, even if her laughter was loud and rambunctious.
“This is a special breakfast. Is it going to happen every morning?” he asked.
“Let’s see if I’ve still got a job before I answer that question. I hear them coming down the stairs. You might need to get out that speed-dialing business here in a few minutes.”
Gabby marched through the kitchen like an army general, with Djali in her arms. Stopping at the back door, she shoved her feet down in bright pink rubber boots and slammed the screen door on her way outside. Lily followed with Jeb thrown up over her shoulder like a baby, his pink rhinestone-studded collar sparkling with every step.
Mason left his breakfast and hurried to the kitchen window where Annie Rose watched the show with a smile on her face. She giggled when Djali got loose and Gabby had to chase him down. Her little, short nightgown flapped in the morning breeze and her boots flashed in the early morning sunlight. Lily marched through the open yard gate, carried poor old Jeb straight to the nearest calf pen, and set him down.
From her body language, Lily was giving Jeb a stinging lecture, but he wasn’t paying attention to her gesturing and mean looks. He bounded out into the pen, sniffed noses with a couple of calves, and then shot right back toward her like he was going to climb over her to get away from the nosy black calves.
But then Gabby sat Djali down inside the pen and Jeb and his buddy romped around in the pen like they’d been set free from prison, using a bale of hay for a trampoline as they frolicked in the fresh morning air.
The girls slammed the gate shut together and headed to the house. Mason and Annie Rose turned to get back to the business of breakfast so fast that they bumped into each other. Annie Rose froze and threw up her palms.
“Hey, it’s all right. I would never hurt you,” Mason said.
Annie Rose dropped her hands to her sides and murmured, “Reflex. I’m sorry.”
Mason stepped back out of her space and said, “You have no reason to apologize, Annie Rose.”
He was sitting at the table, enjoying breakfast, when the girls stormed into the kitchen and flopped down into
“They might fire you,” he said.
She turned around to check on something in the oven. When she bent over, he couldn’t take his eyes off the back seam in her jeans that ran right down the middle of that perfectly rounded butt.
“I wasn’t lookin’ for a job when I found this one. I expect I could find another one without too much trouble,” she said.
“If you’re fryin’ eggs, I like mine over easy,” he said hoarsely as he shut his eyes tightly. Still the image of her cooking breakfast in faded jeans lingered on and on.
“Two over-easy eggs comin’ right up, boss man. You got a problem with me makin’ the girls learn to work, tell me now before I make them mad.”
“It didn’t kill me and I’m not boss man . I’m plain old Mason. Did you ever think hard work was going to make you wither up and die when you had to work on the ranch where you grew up?”
She broke two eggs into an iron skillet. “Couple of times, but I was wrong. Didn’t your housekeepers or nannies make them do chores?”
“Honey, there hasn’t been anyone mean enough to make them do much of anything since their mama passed. I have the nanny service in Dallas on speed dial, if that tells you anything,” he said.
Eggs, bacon, biscuits, and hash browns covered the plate she set before him on the table, and then she removed a pan of muffins from the oven and shook powdered sugar on the tops. He forced his eyes on the plate rather than taking another peek at her rear end, but now her breasts were close enough that he could reach out and kiss one. He quickly snapped his eyes shut and counted to ten before he opened them.
“Muffins will be cooled enough to eat by the time you finish that.” Her voice was laced with honey and soothing, even if her laughter was loud and rambunctious.
“This is a special breakfast. Is it going to happen every morning?” he asked.
“Let’s see if I’ve still got a job before I answer that question. I hear them coming down the stairs. You might need to get out that speed-dialing business here in a few minutes.”
Gabby marched through the kitchen like an army general, with Djali in her arms. Stopping at the back door, she shoved her feet down in bright pink rubber boots and slammed the screen door on her way outside. Lily followed with Jeb thrown up over her shoulder like a baby, his pink rhinestone-studded collar sparkling with every step.
Mason left his breakfast and hurried to the kitchen window where Annie Rose watched the show with a smile on her face. She giggled when Djali got loose and Gabby had to chase him down. Her little, short nightgown flapped in the morning breeze and her boots flashed in the early morning sunlight. Lily marched through the open yard gate, carried poor old Jeb straight to the nearest calf pen, and set him down.
From her body language, Lily was giving Jeb a stinging lecture, but he wasn’t paying attention to her gesturing and mean looks. He bounded out into the pen, sniffed noses with a couple of calves, and then shot right back toward her like he was going to climb over her to get away from the nosy black calves.
But then Gabby sat Djali down inside the pen and Jeb and his buddy romped around in the pen like they’d been set free from prison, using a bale of hay for a trampoline as they frolicked in the fresh morning air.
The girls slammed the gate shut together and headed to the house. Mason and Annie Rose turned to get back to the business of breakfast so fast that they bumped into each other. Annie Rose froze and threw up her palms.
“Hey, it’s all right. I would never hurt you,” Mason said.
Annie Rose dropped her hands to her sides and murmured, “Reflex. I’m sorry.”
Mason stepped back out of her space and said, “You have no reason to apologize, Annie Rose.”
He was sitting at the table, enjoying breakfast, when the girls stormed into the kitchen and flopped down into
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