Rescue Me

went on out of control, controlling her, as he thrust into her again and again. Just as it began to let her go, he pushed down on her thighs and held her there with his big, strong hands.
    “Hooyah,” he groaned deep in his throat. She leaned forward and lightly bit his shoulder. Some people were silent when they orgasmed. Some praised God, while others yelled the F-word. She’d never heard “hooyah” before.
    S adie sliced a flaky croissant, then set it on the cutting board on the kitchen counter. “Do you want avocado on your sandwich?”
    “Sounds good.” Vince shook water from several pieces of lettuce, then set them on the counter beside the board.
    She was dressed in her T-shirt and panties. He, in his cargo pants. After their workout, they’d worked up an appetite. “The man food is out in the cookhouse,” she said as she spread mayonnaise on the croissants. “Carolynn would never feed the guys croissants.”
    “Who’s Carolynn?” He tore off a paper towel and dried his hands.
    “Carolynn is the ranch cook.” She filled the croissants with turkey and lettuce and avocado. “She cooks two meals a day for all the hands. A big huge breakfast and a big dinner. Her sister Clara Anne does the housekeeping here and in the bunkhouse.” She moved to the refrigerator and opened it. Cool air touched her bare thighs and she bent forward and grabbed dill pickles, a jar of pepperoncini, and sliced cheese. Since she’d been back, the sisters had kept the house refrigerator and pantry stocked with the sandwich stuff for her. “I think the sisters have been here about thirty years.” She shut the door and turned.
    He stood in the middle of the room, his head cocked to one side and eyes on her butt.
    “What?”
    “Nothing.” He grinned like he’d been caught doing something but wasn’t sorry. “How many men stay in your bunkhouse?”
    She shrugged and tossed him the cheese. He caught it and followed her to the counter. “I don’t really know.” She set the jars on the counter and grabbed her mama’s china plates from overhead. “When I was growing up there were probably fifteen. Now I think most of the people who work at the JH live in town.” She stuffed the sandwiches with Swiss and pepperoncini. “Are you worried that one of my daddy’s men might bust in here and kick your ass for messin’ with the boss’s daughter?”
    He chuckled and she looked across her shoulder at him, all big and buff and bad. “No. I just wonder how safe it is for a woman out here all alone.”
    “Are you going to do something?”
    “Other than what I’ve already done?”
    She laughed. “I like what you’ve done. Should I worry you’re going to do something I won’t like?”
    “I have a few positions I want to put you in, but I guarantee you’ll like ’em.”
    “Do I need my stun gun just in case?”
    He raised one brow up his forehead and set the cheese on the counter. “I didn’t believe you the last time you threatened me with your make-believe stun gun.”
    She smiled but didn’t admit anything as she pointed to the pantry. “Grab some chips, please.” She set the croissants and a pickle on the blue Wedgwood. When he returned, she arranged the Lay’s on the plate. “Water, beer, or sweet tea?”
    “Water.”
    She poured a glass of tea and one of filtered water, and then together they carried the plates and glasses into the formal dining room. She set the table with her mother’s best linen placemats and napkins. “We never really eat in here except for Christmas and Thanksgiving.”
    “Kind of fancy.”
    She looked around at the heavy mahogany furniture and damask draping. Company always ate in the dining room on the good china. It was a rule her mama had drilled into her head. Like chewing with your mouth closed and showing “uglies.”
    He picked up a chip. “Where do you eat?”
    She placed her napkin on her lap. “Growing up, I always ate in the cookhouse or in the small breakfast nook in the kitchen.” She took a bite of her sandwich, then swallowed. “I’m an only child, and after my mama died, it was always just me and Daddy.” She took a drink of her tea. “It just made sense that we ate in the bunkhouse so Carolynn didn’t have to run back and forth.”
    “How old were you when your mother died?” He took a big bite of his croissant.
    “Five.”
    “Mmm.” He took another bite and chewed. “This is really good, Sadie,” he said after he swallowed. “I’m not