Steal Her Heart (Kaid Ranch Shifters #1)(10)



“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

She was shaking her head. “I can’t watch you build an infection. Where’s your first-aid kit?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Bandages?”

“Newp.”

“Antimicrobial soap?”

He gave her a dead look. “What’s Antimicrobial soap?”

With a put-upon sigh, she stood and made her way around the counter to him, dragging her chair behind her. The screeching sound against the hardwood floors made his sensitive ears hurt. He hunched his shoulders until she stopped.

“Sit.”

“I ain’t a dog.”

“You’re a man. It’s basically the same thing.”

“Who hurt you?” he asked, pulling his boot off the counter. He had a good idea, but she didn’t need to know he’d spent thirty minutes in his truck finding out everything he could about her life.

She was crazy if she thought he was listening to someone come into his house and boss him around like—”

“Sit down, or I’ll slap you again.”

“Maybe I liked being slapped.” Holding his breath, he waited for her reaction.

Fire in her eyes, she leveled him with a look and told him, “Then sit, and maybe I’ll slap you again.”

The blood drained from his entire body and landed in the general vicinity of his dick. Holy hell, she was hot. She’d said that so steady, no blushing, just held his gaze. Not many people dared to do that, but for some reason, this woman wasn’t scared of him. Her instincts were broken, lucky for him.

He sat like a drunk man on a bar stool. The thing creaked under his weight, threatening to give out. He really needed to secure the legs better. He wasn’t a dainty man. More like the homegrown, eats-ten-meals-a-day type that had broken a lot of furniture in his day.

She shoved up his bloody jean’s leg and pulled off his boot and sock, then left him bleeding as she rummaged through his cabinets. Watching her, he felt a little violated because, well…he didn’t want her to see all the bachelor food, aka boxes of macaroni and cheese, he’d bought in bulk from the store.

She opened the top cabinet and he groaned. Yep, she found them. Great.

“Mac and cheese is my favorite,” she whispered on a breath.

Huh.

Hunter didn’t knock on the door, just threw it open so hard it banged against the wall. He announced, “I brought the draaaaank.”

He held up a bottle of Jack, and Maris lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yes!”

“Okay…” Hunter murmured with a frown as she rushed him and grabbed the bottle from his hand. “You like whiskey?”

“Me? Oh, I can’t stand the stuff,” she told him as she opened the lid. She poured it onto a clean rag she’d found in a cupboard near the sink.

Bryson and Hunter both chimed in, “Noooo!” as she wasted the best part of their lives. Without whiskey, nights on the ranch were boring.

“Chill out, I’m only using a little.” She marched over to him with the sopping wet rag.

“What in tarnation could you possibly—ssssssss!” he hissed as she pressed the rag to the deep gash in his leg. Felt like she’d stuck a hot poker right into his skin and branded his shin bone.

“Why would you make it hurt worse?” Hunter asked, horror swimming in his eyes.

Bryson slapped his thigh. “I would also like to know why you want to make it worse!” Betrayed. Bryson felt betrayed, okay? He’d been lulled into this notion that she was going to help, but now his entire leg had its own pulse. And all he could do was grip his knee and bear it while she pressed the rag on harder.

“Stop being a baby. I’m cleaning it,” she said.

“He don’t need it cleaned!” Hunter said.

“Okay, you!” she said, jamming one finger behind her at the man taking up the entire doorway. “Out! You aren’t helping.”

“Disagree! I brought the whiskey you’re wastin’.”

“You also shot him in the first place.”

Hunter opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. She had a point.

“Fine. I’m leaving. Good luck, Bryson.” Now Maris with her human ears wouldn’t be able to hear what he was mumbling on his way out, but Bryson heard him just fine. “Have a lady on the ranch for fifteen minutes, and a cow is on the loose and someone’s leg is shot and the whiskey is wasted and now I can see why Wes says we don’t need no fuckin’ girls around here.”

Bryson snorted.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

He shook his head and did his best to look innocent. “Nothin’ at all. You’re doin’ real good mutilating my leg.”

“Propose to me.”

“What?” he said, yanking his leg away from her.

“Business proposal. You said something about going into business.”

“Oh. Shit. Oh, okay.” His heartrate was about ninety miles a minute right now. Propose to her. That woman didn’t have any idea what marriage to a man like him would be like. He’d break her in a year, tops. A growl rattled his throat so he coughed to cover it. Eaaaasy. “I’m gonna lease your pastures to feed my cows. You do the feeding, do everything you did before, take care of them, water, nutrients, take care of your pastures, all that. I’ll pay you fair to lease your land, and pay for the feed and vet bills, and your labor, and when it comes time for it, I’ll bring a bull out there of my choosing, breed the herd, and sell however and whenever I want.”

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