MATT (The Hartwell Brothers Book 2) by M. S. Parker

Author:M. S. Parker [Parker, M. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Belmonte Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-11-19T16:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Matt

Waking to the soft, quiet morning on the ranch wasn’t as much of a shock as it had been the past few mornings. Still, it was surreal, how serene and peaceful the morning was, the quiet like a balm on the jagged edges of my psyche. Although the worries were there, the chaos of my real-life felt muffled by the unending, vast tranquility of the world I’d somehow fallen into.

The tension I always carried had melted away under the hot summer sun and pure, intense drain of the labor I’d been doing around the ranch.

Rubbing at one eye socket, still sleepy, I used my free hand to tug at the curtains, revealing a still-dark sky. That simple movement made muscles wince in protest, but at least they’d stopped screaming at me.

One thing that hadn’t been bothering me, weirdly enough, was my head. Too often, I woke drained and tired, a headache pulsing away at my temples before I even had a chance to get through coffee and a shower.

After the headache from what must have been heat exhaustion had finally passed, there hadn’t been another recurrence, and that was nothing short of amazing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone more than a day or two without one of those bastards taunting me.

Laughing softly, I considered my situation once more. Six months—hell, one month ago, if somebody had told me the cure for my headaches was located on a ranch in South Dakota, I would have suggested they seek psychiatric help.

Stretching out, I took stock of my muscles, relieved to find that heavy ache from the past few days had ebbed. Since waking Sunday morning, I’d done more heavy, physical labor than I ever had in my life. Thanks to rowing and a regular routine of running five miles three times a week, I was in good physical condition, and the rowing meant my hands were all ready calloused, but that first day helping out here on the ranch had left me hurting in places I hadn’t known existed.

Not that anything had kept me from enjoying time with Gabrielle when she showed up at my door each night. I’d have to be dead not to enjoy those opportunities each time the chance came up.

Like Pavlov’s dog, I’d already been trained to react to her cues—a knock on the door after dinner, a slumberous look across the yard while we were working.

She could probably just glance at me, and I’d be ready.

Right now, just knowing she was on the other side of the door when the knock came each night was enough to make me hard.

But it wasn’t just the evenings spent with her.

She was different from women I dated before, even Veronica, who had been a breath of fresh air. As different as Veronica and I were on many levels, we’d had a number of things in common, things I could relate to.

Gabrielle was unique. She’d likely have little interest in the sort of conversation I usually was forced to indulge in socially.

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