All Chapters of Cattenach Ranch: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The second Nakos's lips met Amy's, he knew he was in trouble. The deep kind that drown a person where they stood and left no recourse for salvation. He'd cupped her face, dipped his head, and planted one right on her never-shut-up, poutier-than-hell mouth.And blew logic right out of the water.They barely touched, were suspended in a shocked-immobile pause in time, but moving wouldn't have mattered. He felt the feather-light press of her lips in every molecule of his body.Hihcebe, she drove him batshit mad. The constant arguing and assumptions and distractions. It was enough to make a man crazy. Proven by their current position.In all the years he was attracted to Olivia, not once had he lost it. He'd never had the urge to push boundaries, cross the line, or act on the hovering desire. Amy, though? She wound around his control so adamantly she'd snapped him off at the root. Rendered thought a cloud of dust in her wake. Burrowed under his skin until nothing made sense.The light

Amy leaned against the headboard in Olivia's bedroom at the main house and stretched her legs out in front of her. "So, how many hot men in kilts did you see? Be honest."Laughing, Olivia folded a shirt from the laundry basket. "A few guys, but none you'd want to test the theory of whether they go commando under the kilt, if you know what I mean." She put the shirt away in the dresser and grabbed another. "Scotland was amazing, though. Nate looked up a few of my ancestors and we found this old cemetery where some were buried. I've always wanted to go, but I'm glad I waited to see it first with him."Considering Amy had never been outside of Wyoming, she'd be happy going anywhere. "At least you did some tourist things. Being your honeymoon and all. What a wasted trip that would've been only seeing the inside of a hotel room.""Ha. We saw plenty of that, too." Olivia winked, a flush in her pale cheeks. She brushed a strand of auburn hair from her face and set the empty basket aside. "

Nakos had under thirty minutes to shower before meeting everyone at the tavern. Why he'd agreed to go, he hadn't a clue. The very thought of sitting across a table from Amy with her silent treatment and wounded eyes on the menu was not his ideal Saturday evening. Then again, another night in his house, sleeping in the room right next to hers, wasn't his version of a great time, either. They couldn't go on like this. He was this close to imploding.At his wit's end, he planned on forcing her to talk to him when they were alone tomorrow and both off work. He rolled his head to stretch his neck as he climbed the stairs in his cabin. As if anyone could force Amy Woods to do anything. Especially him, considering she got him tongue-tied and made his head dizzier than a carousel on heroine just standing in front of him.At least there would be alcohol involved tonight.He turned the knob on his bathroom door and halted dead over the threshold. His lungs seized, despite the perfume-scente

Still rattled over learning her uncle was coming for a visit, Amy hopped out of Nakos's truck and waited for him to unlock the front door to his cabin. Ever since she'd gotten the text from her brother, her stomach had been a twisted, nauseous mess. Memories she'd worked hard to overcome kept shoving to the surface. The smell of cigar breath and Old Spice. Rough hands leaving punishing bruises. Her screams muted by a palm over her mouth. The pain. The tears. The shame.She had to get herself under control before Nakos figured out something was wrong. She strode ahead of him and into the house, making a beeline for the stairs. She got over it once, she'd do it again. If she had to remind herself a million times she wasn't a weak, scared little girl anymore, then that's what she'd do. She was stronger than anything life had to dish out, proven by the fact she was still standing.Dang, but she felt like crumbling."Ames." Nakos's feet shuffled behind her and she paused on the b

A tray balanced on his forearm, Nakos paused outside Amy's bedroom. Unless she was changing, she always left the door open, even while sleeping. He would've thought living with a man, despite having known him all her life, would make her uncomfortable not having a measure of privacy. Yet every time he passed by, it remained open. He wondered if it had something to do with her attack, if enclosed places scared her.He stared at her, asleep in bed under a mound of blankets. Only her face was uncovered, and early morning light bathed her profile. She had one hand tucked beneath her head and her dark lashes fanned her cheeks. At least when she slept the strain he often found in her expression finally eased. Peaceful, almost.A shake of his head, and he stepped deeper into the room. He'd been in the habit of calling her angel lately. The word had flown out of his mouth the first time, unbidden, as if by no control of his own. It was accurate, though. She was a take-no-prisoners, hear-me-r