Free Ropin' Hearts: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 4 by Em Petrova

soul—and see if you aren’t both rewarded.” Stowe stood. “But, Ty? Your brat needs a firm hand.” He shot Ty a wink and strode offstage, leaving him alone in the shadows with thoughts of Bree and a hard-on like stone.
    Ty was going to throttle her when he found her on the ranch again. But she didn’t care. She straightened her shoulders and walked into the grub house.
    Cowboys looked up and one tipped his hat at her. Another gave her a wink. Damn, the Boot Knockers were a flirty crew. But she found herself scanning the room for one face.
    When her gaze settled on it, her stomach did a backflip. Ty was sitting with a few guys, talking and laughing. As she watched, he stuck a thick hamburger in his mouth and chomped off a bite no man should be capable of chewing. But he did. Even the way his jaw worked was sexy. And when he swallowed, his tanned throat working, she pressed her knees together.
    As if feeling her attention on him, he looked up. His expression blanked and he stood. When he started toward her, she backed up a step. Heart racing, panties wet.
    “You’d better try to get away before I teach you a lesson.” The heat in his voice infused her with want. He grabbed her by the elbow and directed her out into the cooler evening air. Without a word he marched her across the turf. His silence unraveled her and she opened her mouth to say something smart. But for the first time in her life, she couldn’t think of anything.
    He led her past the barns and through a small stand of trees. The wind whistled through the branches, whispering warnings to her that she was unwilling to heed. She was exactly where she wanted to be and no one—especially Ty—was going to scare her away from getting what she wanted.
    When they broke through the trees surrounding the pond, she dug in her heels. “Why are you taking me here?” Visions of him picking her up and tossing her in fully clothed jumped into her mind. After the harsh hosing off he’d given her, she had no doubt he was capable of leaving her dripping wet in the pond.
    He slid his fingers down her forearm to her hand. Entangling their fingers, he said, “Sit and talk with me, Bree.”
    If she weren’t already standing still, she might have pulled up short. Talk? About what? Damn, she was in deep trouble now.
    Was it her or were his eyes warmer than usual? He tugged her hand and she followed like a puppy after its master. He sank to a dry spot on the bank and patted the space beside him. Angling a worried look at him, she did his bidding.
    “What do you want to talk about? I didn’t know Boot Knockers had thoughts that don’t deal with being naked. Are you sure you’re even capable of having an entire conversation in English?”
    She waited for the sparks in his eyes or his annoyed retort. Neither came.
    “Would you like me to switch to French?” He spit out a string of words that melted her core. “Or Italian?” This time when he spoke the foreign words, her nipples hardened.
    She peeked at his profile, seeing him cast in a new light. She shivered at the new complexity beneath the gorgeous man beside her. “How do you know all these languages?”
    “Rosetta Stone.”
    She studied his face for signs he may be joking. “Really?”
    He laughed and his face transformed, creases forming at the corners of his eyes in a way that seemed to etch into her being. “No, not really. I had an Italian grandmother and she taught me early how to cuss. I studied the rest of the language in college. As for the French…” he dropped a lazy wink, “…I learned that for the ladies.”
    She wrapped her arms around her knees and tipped her head up to the vast sky.
    “Do you know any languages?”
    “No. Nobody really took me seriously in school. I was the dumb blonde—the cheerleader. I didn’t care about making good grades as much as I cared about my social life.”
    “You earned your degree, though. You must have buckled down in college.”
    “Yeah, but Daddy never