Ruthless (Wolf Ranch #6) - Renee Rose Page 0,18

I had to adjust my dick, so it wasn’t strangled by the zipper.

“So, Red. It’s been a while. Fill me in on your life.” I unwrapped a sandwich then the other. “Turkey, roast beef or half of each?”

I flicked a gaze at her. Waited.

“Half of each,” she replied.

I rearranged the sandwich halves, so we each had both kinds, then slid one in front of her.

“Thanks.” She lifted the turkey and took a bite. I did the same, waited.

She dabbed some mustard from her lip with a finger, and I watched the move intently, imagined a little drop of my cum caught there from after her sucking me off. I stifled a groan and took a few gulps of the lemonade she’d poured earlier to try to cool off.

“The short version is that I went home after that summer. Went to college for music then onto getting my master’s. I inherited the house, and now I’m here.”

“What else?”

“Like what?”

I shrugged. “Anything. Doesn’t have to be special.” I took a bite of the roast beef.

Her lips quirked into a pretty bow. “Well, you already know I hate spiders, and I play the violin—well, played.”

I jerked my head up on alert. “What do you mean played?”

“I don’t know. I think, actually, I’m done with music. Forever. Grad school just sucked every last drop of pleasure out of it for me. I have this terrible pain behind my shoulder blade every time I play, and my stomach cinches up tight, and all I can think about is how un-fun it is.”

“Wow. I’m sorry. How long have you felt that way?”

“Pretty much by second semester of grad school.”

“You didn’t think about quitting then?”

Her brows dipped. “I did, but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

She lifted her delicate shoulders. “My parents hated that I went to college. I wanted to get out, and I knew college was the way to do it. They hated even more that I studied music. They wanted me to stay home, work a minimum wage job like them and contribute to the household like I had since I was fifteen. We had a huge fight when I enrolled, even though it didn’t cost them a dime. I got a scholarship and worked three odd-jobs to make it through.”

I cocked my head. “So you had to prove to them you’d made the right choice?”

She laughed, covering her mouth with a napkin. “Pretty much, yeah. Redheads can be stubborn, if you haven’t heard.”

I laughed. “I have heard.” I studied her pretty face—the splash of freckles across her nose, the warm brown eyes. Fuck, I could look at her all day.

So my mate was stubborn. I could deal with that. She’d have a red ass because of it. And she’d love it.

“You told me you came here because it was yours, free and clear. It took you, what, almost two years to show up?”

She nodded. “I was in school, then the DEA called me, and that pushed me back a bit.”

Yeah, the whole Jett Markle fiasco. Looking back, I was glad it had happened since Rob had met his mate. In a way, Natalie had helped them get together.

“Why now?” I wondered.

Yeah, that was the biggie.

She set the sandwich down, took a sip of lemonade. “L.A.’s expensive. Not a lot of jobs for a classically trained violinist.” She picked a bit of lettuce from her sandwich, sighed. This was an issue for her. A weak spot. I didn’t like the idea of her struggling, of her parents being dicks. “I wasn’t going back to living with my parents, letting them think I was going to help support them again. This was really the only place I could think of to go where I could afford the rent.”

“Why didn’t you just sell the place?” I asked, looking up at the ceiling.

“Uncle Adam left it to me. I didn’t get to see him or come here after that summer when I was ten, but… well, we had a connection. He was the one who introduced me to the violin, made me love it. Like you remembered, we used to fiddle together.” I shrugged again. “I don’t know. This place has seemed more like home than anywhere else. I just have to figure out how to make it work.”

“You mentioned a B&B,” I said, bringing up the subject carefully.

Nodding, she picked up her sandwich. “Like I told you and Nash, one of my girlfriends back in L.A. suggested the idea. It’s a way to make this place viable. I’ve got