Название: Claim Me, Cowboy
Автор: Maisey Yates
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Copper Ridge
isbn: 9781474076333
isbn:
“This is a big house,” she said.
Danielle sounded vaguely judgmental, which seemed wrong, all things considered. Sure, he was the guy who had paid a woman to pose as his temporary fiancée. And sure, he was the man who lived in a house that had more square footage than he generally walked through in a day, but she was the one who had responded to an ad placed by a complete stranger looking for a temporary fiancée. So, all things considered, he didn’t feel like she had a lot of room to judge.
“Yes, it is.”
“Why? I mean, you live here alone, right?”
“Because size matters,” he said, ignoring the shifting, whimpering sound of the baby in her arms.
“Right,” she said, her tone dry. “I’ve lived in apartment buildings that were smaller than this.”
He stopped walking, then he turned to face her. “Am I supposed to feel something about that? Feel sorry for you? Feel bad about the fact that I live in a big house? Because trust me, I started humbly enough. I choose to live differently than my parents. Because I can. Because I earned it.”
“Oh, I see. In that case, I suppose I earned my dire straits.”
“I don’t know your life, Danielle. More important, I don’t want to know it.” He realized that was the first time he had used her first name. He didn’t much care.
“Great. Same goes. Except I’m going to be living in your house, so I’m going to definitely...infer some things about your life. And that might give rise to conversations like this one. And if you’re going to be assuming things about me, then you should be prepared for me to respond in kind.”
“I don’t have to do any such thing. As far as I’m concerned, I’m the employer, you’re the employee. That means if I want to talk to you about the emotional scars of my childhood, you had better lie back on my couch and listen. Conversely, if I do not want to hear about any of the scars of yours, I don’t have to. All I have to do is throw money at you until you stop talking.”
“Wow. It’s seriously the job offer I’ve been waiting for my entire life. Talking I’m pretty good at. And I don’t do a great job of shutting up. That means I would be getting money thrown at me for a long, long time.”
“Don’t test me, Ms. Kelly,” he said, reverting back to her last name, because he really didn’t want to know about her childhood or what brought her here. Didn’t want to wonder about her past. Didn’t want to wonder about her adulthood either. Who the father of her baby was. What kind of situation she was in. It wasn’t his business, and he didn’t care.
“Don’t test me, Ms. Kelly,” she said, in what he assumed was supposed to be a facsimile of his voice.
“Really?” he asked.
“What? You can’t honestly expect to operate at this level of extreme douchiness and not get called to the carpet on it.”
“I expect that I can do whatever I want, since I’m paying you to be here.”
“You don’t want me to dress up as a teddy bear and vacuum, do you?”
“What?”
She shifted her weight, moving the baby over to one hip and spreading the other arm wide. “Hey, man, some people are into that. They like stuffed animals. Or rather, they like people dressed as stuffed animals.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I like women,” he said. “Dressed as women. Or rather, undressed, generally.”
“I’m not judging. Your dad put an ad in the paper for some reason. Clearly he really wants you to be married.”
“Yes. Well, he doesn’t understand that not everybody needs to live the life that he does. He was happy with a family and a farmhouse. But none of the rest of us feel that way, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“So none of you are married?”
“One of us is. The only brother that actually wanted a farmhouse too.” He paused in front of the door at the end of the hall. He was glad he had decided to set this room aside for the woman who answered the ad. He hadn’t known she would come with a baby in tow, but the fact that she had meant he really, really wanted her out of earshot.
“Is this it?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, pushing the door open.
When she looked inside the bedroom, her jaw dropped, and Joshua couldn’t deny that he took a small amount of satisfaction in her reaction. She looked... Well, she looked amazed. Like somebody standing in front of a great work of art. Except it was just a bedroom. Rather a grand one, he had to admit, down to the details.
There was a large bed fashioned out of natural, twisted pieces of wood with polished support beams that ran from floor to ceiling and retained the natural shape they’d had in the woods but glowed from the stain that had been applied to them. The bed made the whole room look like a magical forest. A little bit fanciful for him. His own bedroom had been left more Spartan. But, clearly, Danielle was enchanted.
And he shouldn’t care.
“I’ve definitely lived in apartments that were smaller than this room,” she said, wrapping both arms around the baby and turning in a circle. “This is... Is that a loft? Like a reading loft?” She was gazing up at the mezzanine designed to look as though it was nestled in the tree branches.
“I don’t know.” He figured it was probably more of a sex loft. But then, if he slept in a room with a loft, obviously he would have sex in it. That was what creative surfaces were for, in his opinion.
“It reminds me of something we had when I was in first grade.” A crease appeared between her eyebrows. “I mean, not me as in at our house, but in my first-grade classroom at school. The teacher really loved books. And she liked for us all to read. So we were able to lie around the classroom anywhere we wanted with a book and—” She abruptly stopped talking, as though she realized exactly what she was doing. “Never mind. You think it’s boring. Anyway, I’m going to use it for a reading loft.”
“Dress like a teddy bear in it, for all I care,” he responded.
“That’s your thing, not mine.”
“Do you have any bags in the car that I can get for you?”
She looked genuinely stunned. “You don’t have to get anything for me.”
It struck him that she thought he was being nice. He didn’t consider the offer particularly nice. It was just what his father had drilled into him from the time he was a boy. If there was a woman and she had a heavy thing to transport, you were no kind of man if you didn’t offer to do the transporting.
“I don’t mind.”
“It’s just one bag,” she said.
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