“Wasn't any trouble for me,” Lance interjected.
Josh glared at him. “Don't you have some final chores to do tonight?'
“Nope.” Lance looked at Josh in amusement. “I could stay here all night in fact.”
“I could have managed to bring in all my things. Lance offered, so I thought I’d take him up on it. What's the big deal?”
“Yeah, boss, what's the big deal?”
Josh fished the keys from his pocket and tossed them to Lance. His foreman caught them easily.
“Then go get them. Burning biscuits prevented me from doing so.”
Lance rocked down on all four legs of the chair and stood. Grabbing his hat from the back, he put it on. “I'll bring it all up to your room, Molly. Like I said I would earlier.”
“Thank you. The laptop can go on the small desk in the room.”
“There's more room in the office. You can use the second desk near the window, “Josh said. The light's better there than in your room.”
“I don’t want to be in your way.”
“You won’t have time to be in the office during the day. I do most of the office work during normal business hours. We won’t conflict. If I have to work at night, you’ll just have to put up with my presence.”
Which would probably prove so distracting she wouldn't get a single word written. She knew her imagination would fly if Josh were nearby, but in the right direction?
Somehow she was beginning to see herself as the heroine to his hero. And that was never going to happen.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll get it now,” Lance said heading outside.
“I'll be in the office,” Josh said, rising and walking in that direction.
So much for there being no conflict in the evenings if she wanted to write then.
As Molly did the dishes, she thought maybe Mrs. Montgomery stretched the truth a bit. Josh hadn’t proved impossible—yet. He’d certainly told her off a couple of times, but he had the right of it each time.
And he hadn’t said much about dinner’s disaster.
He’d given her more chances than the other places of employment had, and that was definitely in his favor. She wished he had continued telling her about the other housekeepers. If the first two left for the reasons he’d given, it didn’t make him a demanding boss at all.
Why had the others left so soon after arriving?
Too tired to be creative by the time Molly had her computer hooked up, she opened the file of chapters she’d already written and read through them, editing as she went.
She didn’t know where Josh had gone and refused to admit to being disappointed he didn’t have work in the office that night. The lighting was good. And it was quiet. Maybe too quiet. Not that she wanted him there. What if he asked about her book, asked to read it to him?
Starting at chapter one, she found herself dissatisfied with the descriptions. They didn’t really capture the essence of what she wanted to portray.
She closed her eyes imaging Josh standing beside her. How could she get that description down on paper so all readers would see him as she did?
Her head nodded.
She opened her eyes. She had to get to sleep if she was to get up early enough to prepare breakfast. With a sigh, she turned off the computer. Two days and not a single new word written. She might have underestimated how much time it would take to finish the book.
Molly felt as if her head had barely touched the pillow when loud, rapid knocking on her door woke her from a deep sleep. Sitting upright in surprise, she realized dawn was still a half hour away.
“Molly, dammit, wake up!” Josh pounded on her door and called her name. Was there a fire?
She scrambled from the bed and ran to the door, flinging it open. Blinking in the bright hall light, she peered up at him.
“What’s wrong?”
He slowly lowered his still-raised hand as he took in her appearance. Her hair, tousled and disheveled from sleeping, swirled around her face like a soft brown cloud. A sleep crease from her sheet slashed across her cheek. Her eyes were half closed against the light. And she wore a pale blue, skimpy satiny sleep shirt that draped over her, hugging her curves and valleys.
Josh felt a burst of desire unexpected and hard. He stepped closer, skimming the back of his fingers down her flushed, warm cheek.
“Is there a fire?” she asked, shaking her head to come awake.
“No fire.”
His gaze traveled down to her pink polished toes. Her legs were bare, tanned, shapely. The sleep shirt, stopping at the midpoint of her thighs, almost fell off one shoulder.
“Josh?” Molly took in his attire. He wore only a terry robe. At least she thought that was all he wore. She could see his bronzed chest in the deep vee of the short robe; his muscular legs were bare. Why was he here? Why had he banged on her door like there was an emergency?
He leaned over and kissed her. Startled, Molly slipped her hands up to his shoulders to keep her balance. Then it seemed logical to encircle his neck, thread her fingers through his damp hair. His face was clean-shaven, no scratchy beard against her skin.
Wait. Damp hair, shaved?
Somewhere it registered that he'd already had his shower and probably wore nothing beneath his robe.
As she wore nothing beneath her shirt.
“Molly.” He pulled back, breathing hard. “Where are my clothes?”
“What?”
She snapped open her eyes and stared at him. “What do you mean, where are your clothes? In your—oh no!”
Whirling, she raced down the stairs and into the kitchen, flicking on the lights as she made her way through the house heading for the laundry room. Oh no, oh no oh no, she chanted, flinging up the lid to the washer. There in damp array sat his jeans and dark shirts. The pile of colored shirts were still on the floor next to the washer. Whites piled next to them.
She'd forgotten to put the jeans in the dryer yesterday! On the floor before the washer sat the other loads of clothes, all waiting to be washed.
“Damn!” Josh had followed her and stood in the doorway, his gaze immediately recognizing the situation.
“I can dry them right away.” She pulled the heavy damp denims from the washer and stuffed them into the dryer.
“Denim takes forever to dry.”
“Nonsense, they’ll be dry by the time you finish breakfast,” she said, crossing her fingers as she hit the On button. Putting soap into the washer, she scooped up another load and started that, as well.
“If you think I’m going to breakfast dressed like this, you’re crazy,” he said.
She looked at him and her heart melted. Her knees grew weak again and she held on to the washer like a lifeline.
He looked like he just got up from bed. His hair was mussed from her own hands. His eyes glittered at her and in the uncertain light, it looked like he wanted her. Which just proved her imagination worked even first thing in the morning.
She pushed away.
“I’m sorry. I guess I was so caught up in cleaning, I forgot to change the loads. I’ll make sure they are all done today.”
“Can you keep your mind on it?” he asked with an edge in his tone.
“Yes.”
He had a right to be angry. It took less than twenty seconds to load the dryer and push the button. Why hadn’t she thought once about the clothes after she'd gathered them from his room?
Maybe that kiss had had something to do with forgetting everything.
It would have been so easy if she’d put the clothes in to dry before going to bed.
She should have remembered!
“You’ll excuse me for wondering. How could you forget something so simple?” he asked.
“I just did, okay? It won’t happen again.”
“I’m putting my money on that it will happen again. Molly, you’re one strange woman. You go off into your own little world so far the house could burn down around you and I don’t think you’d notice.”
“So this housekeeper might be the one that just wandered away in her mind?” she joked, trying to ease the tension that shimmered between them.
“No, sweetheart, this one might be the one I fire,” he said slowly.
“Please don’t, Josh. I’ll do better, I promise. It’s just my way of coping.”
“Coping with what?”
“My dad. He...nothing I did ever pleases him. He wants me to be accomplished like my mother. She left him when I was little. Left us both. So I don't even have a role model. He’s a hard man, expects perfection. So I’d imagine I did things his way. That he liked what I did.”
Loved me, she wanted to say, but stopped short before revealing that.
“And imagined a lot of other things to make life more bearable?” he asked with pinpoint accuracy.
She nodded. “But things are different here. I’m doing a good job. I know I’ve messed up a little—”
He laughed. “You’ve messed up more than anyone I’ve ever known. I’d hate to see your definition of messing up a lot!”
“But I’m getting better. I know now to fix tons of food. I won’t put sugar in the potatoes again. I’ll use the timer so I don’t burn things. I’ve already cleaned the living room and hall. And I’ll finish up the rest of the house before you know it.”
“You're here temporarily, Molly. I told you that from the first, so don’t get settled in too much.”
“I know.”
Once she sold her book, it wouldn’t matter. She could live wherever she wanted. And write full time.
Still, it hurt just a little that he kept reminding her the assignment was only temporary.
“I’ll be in the office. Bring my breakfast there,” he said. Glancing down the length of her, he met her eyes. “And I suggest you change before starting breakfast or you’ll have a dozen cowboys over you like flies on honey.”
“Only a dozen?” she asked provocatively. Was he immune to her? Even after kissing her? Or was it because he’d kissed her and found her lacking?
He reached out and rubbed the pad of his thumb gently over her lower lip. “I think Jack’s immune, too old. And a couple of the men have girlfriends. That leaves the rest of us.”
She trembled at his touch, at his words. He’d included himself in the group of cowboys. It warmed her heart like nothing ever had.
“What a kind man you are,” she said.
“Kind?”
“To say such a nice thing. I’ve never had anyone hint I could be some kind of femme fatale.”
Josh groaned and pulled her into his arms. “What do you think these kisses have been about?” he asked as his mouth closed over hers again.
She drove him crazy. As provocative as hell and she didn’t even have the slightest clue. As innocent as a babe, which enchanted him and confused him. He didn’t want to feel anything for her. He wanted her gone.
But not just yet. His tongue tasted her sweetness, his chest savored the feel of her soft breasts pressed against him. His arms cherished the rounded body that so trustingly leaned into him. If he weren’t careful, he’d want more from her than anyone had ever given, including Jeannie.
At the thought of his former fiancée, Josh’s ardor dimmed.
He raised his head.
Molly opened her eyes and stared up at him, the wonder clearly evident. He felt ten feet tall and wary as hell.
“Change your clothes,” he said.
Releasing her, he tightened the belt on his robe and headed for the office. He wasn’t about to fall for some starry-eyed romantic. He had his priorities, the ranch first and everything else a distant second.
Time he called the employment agency again and hurry them up on the replacement housekeeper.
Molly prepared breakfast in a daze. She couldn’t believe Josh had kissed her this morning—twice. She didn’t understand it.
She felt as if she were in over her head. She hated to disappoint him, but she’d reached the limit of her experience. She hadn’t a clue how to progress. Even if he wanted to progress.
And by the way he pulled away, she doubted it.
By mid morning, Molly had a grocery list that didn’t end. She could have called it in like she'd done the previous one. But she wanted some time away from the ranch, and to get to know the store better, see what other things she might wish to buy for meals.
She headed for the yard, wondering who would teach her how to drive one of the pickup trucks or if she needed anyone. Josh had said he would, but she didn’t want to be confined in the cab of a truck with him. Her mind kicked into overdrive anytime she came near him. How could she concentrate on driving techniques if she wondered every second whether he’d kiss her again?
The only truck available was the big blue and white one nosed up against the barn. She crossed the yard and opened the door. The keys were in the ignition. Climbing up into the cab, she slammed the door and took stock. How hard would it be? A bit different from a car, he’d said. But everything looked the same. She adjusted the seat. Josh or Lance must have driven it last, the seat was so far back. Fiddling with the mirror, she took a deep breath and started the engine.
No one came to see who had started the truck. In fact, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of anyone since Josh passed through the house sometime after breakfast, fully dressed in his dry clothes. Which reminded her, she hadn’t put that second wash load in the dryer. Slowly she reversed the truck until she stopped by the back door. Putting it into park, she dashed inside to pull the dry clothes from the dryer and pile them on top, throw the clothes in the dryer, start the last wash load.