Page 67 of Cowboy in Colorado
He just blinks at me. “You’re telling me you guys pay someone to sit around in a kitchen somewhere in this building, just waiting in case you get hungry at four in the morning?”
I laugh even harder. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
“How much do you pay the poor girl?”
I shrug. “I dunno. A lot. Dad pays her, not me, for one thing. She’s a student at the Institute of Culinary Education, and this job is paying her tuition. If I had to guess, I’d say she probably makes thirty, forty grand a year to sit in that kitchen three nights a week. I rarely use her services, and neither do any of the others who rate her services in this building, so basically she gets paid to study.”
He rubs his eyes again. “Oh.” He eyes me. “Why’re you awake?”
I lift a shoulder again. “Can’t sleep. Too much on my mind, too hungry.”
My doorbell rings, then, and I rouse myself out of bed, grab my robe from the hook on my bathroom door, and tie it around me. “Put something on, Will,” I say. “Food’s here.”
Grumbling under his breath about having to put on pants to eat food, Will shoves a leg into his jeans, but he’s still too groggy to function—the jeans are inside out, and he topples backward onto the bed, and finally hurls them across the room. “Stupid fuckin’ pants.”
“Ohmygod, Will,” I snort. “Sit down before you hurt yourself. I’ll get you a towel.”
I toss him a bath sheet, and he snags it in the air before heading into the bathroom. I make for the door and open it, and to my surprise, Rachel is here herself, pushing a service cart.
“Delivering it yourself?” I ask. “Don’t we have people for that? Who’s cooking my food?”
She grins at me. “Burgers are on the grill, fries are in the fryer, and José is watching them.” She winks at me. “I wanted to catch a glimpse of the man who has you locked in here. He must be pretty special to catch your attention.” Will emerges from the bedroom, then, still wrapping the towel around his waist—affording Rachel a brief glimpse of his V-cut before he gets the towel fastened. “Holy hell,” Rachel whispers. “He’s an actual god among men.”
I put a hand to my privates, wincing dramatically. “You have no fucking clue, Rach,” I whisper back.
“Get it, girl!” she murmurs. “Will he be around a little longer? Or is this a temporary thing?”
Will hears this, turning his gaze on her. “I’ll be around. A lot.”
She blinks at the fierceness in his blue gaze and in his voice. “Okay, wow. He’s for real.”
I nod at her. “He’s very much for real.”
Rachel clears her throat. “So. Snacks. A cheese and meat tray with stone ground mustard and organic honey, a bowl of fresh berries, a couple bottles of sparkling mineral water, water crackers, popcorn, and imported dark chocolate Swiss truffles.” She arranges the trays and bowls on my coffee table with professional flair.
Will stares at the food. “Nice. Thank you.”
Rachel blushes then turns for the door. “I’ve got more coming—bacon cheeseburgers, steak fries, chicken wings, onion rings. Should be up in ten minutes or so.”
When she’s gone, Will heaves a sigh as we sit on the couch. “Night chefs. City people, man.”
I laugh as he wraps a slice of salami around a piece of Dublin cheddar. “Don’t hear you complaining.”
“I’m not. It’s just all shit I could’ve whipped up myself in five minutes,” he says following the meat and cheese with a handful of popcorn.
I follow suit, digging into the spread. “So could I, and I usually do things for myself.” I grin at him. “But this is a special occasion and I’m feeling lazy. Plus, I’m kind of rolling out the red-carpet treatment for my country bumpkin ranch hand boyfriend.”
“Ranchhand?” he growls.
I laugh. “I’m teasing.”
“I noticed,” he grumbles, and then smirks, finally. “I’m grumpy when I’m sleepy.”
“You’re grumpy all the time.”
He frowns, but doesn’t deny it. “Boyfriend, huh?”
I redden, shrugging and nodding. “Trying it on. Never really had a boyfriend.”