Eve Langlais - Apocalypse Cowboy

“What are still doing here?” she asked crossly. “You’re supposed to be gone.”

“Morning to you too, kitten.” Brody didn’t turn to face Hannah, even though he wanted to. He’d been disappointed when she’d fled to her room the day before and not come back down, but her absence had given him a chance to pump Beth and Fred for information, most of it hard to listen to and increasing the guilt he already felt. Not even six months after he’d left, Hannah’s parents had died in a car crash, leaving her alone to fend for her younger sister and invalid uncle. His gut had tightened when he’d heard of how Hannah had stopped attending college to work full time in support of her family. She’d been so close to finishing her degree in business when he left.

The news that made him glad, even as he knew he should feel guilty, was hearing she hadn’t dated anyone since he’d left. When he’d been away, just thinking of another man touching her had always been enough to put him in a foul mood. He wondered if, like him, the thought of being with someone else had left her cold. He hadn’t been able to feign interest in any other women. None of them were Hannah.

The previous night, after Beth went to bed, Fred had told him of how Hannah had taken care of them all. He’d also told him of the attack she’d survived in the spring when fetching supplies. Brody had clenched his fist at hearing of how his kitten had been forced to stab a man to prevent a rape. He should have been here protecting her. He thanked god she’d escaped unscathed but for some mental scars. From now on, she’d have nothing to fear. He would protect her and her family. Nobody would touch a hair on her head. I’ll kill them first.

He heard a chair being dragged behind him. The object of his thoughts sat down heavily, the glaring heat from her stare boring into his back. Brody grinned but still didn’t turn around, staying instead at the Coleman stove, cooking the omelets he’d whipped up using eggs he’d fetched from the coop. He’d been only moderately surprised at how well set up Hannah and her family were. Trust her to find a way to ensure she survived and stayed well fed.

Knowing her penchant for good food, he’d gotten up early to surprise her with breakfast. In the past, her good moods had often been linked to eating. What a shame that his previous method of kissing her ‘til she smiled wasn’t yet feasible. He’d spent a restless night thinking of her-how they’d touched and kissed. Brody wanted to curse when his cock got hard; somehow he didn’t think Hannah would be impressed at his lack of control.

Pity I can’t just slap my prick on a plate and offer it to her to eat. It would solve two problems at once.

Hannah watched his broad back shake as if in silent jest and resented the easy way Brody had slipped into her life in less than a day. He moved around the kitchen like he owned it, cooking on the Coleman stove with the window above it and the side door open for venting-and the food smelled heavenly too, the jerk. Leave it up to him to prepare something she hadn’t truly eaten since the power had finally given out a year or so ago.

She had yet to master the art of camp stove cooking without burning their meal. Thank god for the propane center in town they could use for refills. She just hoped she never saw it run out or they’d have to resort to a true firepit. The only thing she knew how to cook on those was marshmallows.

At least running water had never been as issue as they’d always had a well, but she did worry about the septic system one day overflowing out in the yard, a problem she hoped lay many years in the future. That and running out of toilet paper.

Watching him cook-a skill he’d acquired since his departure-she wondered what other things he’d learned while he’d been away. If Brody had actually been serious about staying, which she highly doubted, there were many things she could use help with, as much as it galled her to ask. Even if she had no interest in hooking up, it wouldn’t hurt to milk him for all the practical knowledge and muscle he had to offer in the meantime. And he definitely has a lot of muscle to offer , she thought, licking her lips in hunger, and not of the consumable kind.

“Oh my god, Hannah. Did you finally learn to cook?” Beth came in looking fresh and cute in short shorts with a blouse tied at her midriff that made Hannah gnash her teeth. Since when did Bethie come to breakfast dressed like a tart?

“Hope you’re hungry,” said Brody, turning to face them with two steaming plates. With a wink for Hannah and a smile for Beth, he laid the plates on the table and turned to fix a third.

Hannah hopped up to grab the plate from Brody to take Fred who found mornings hard, but Beth beat her to it. With a simpering smile, she took it from Brody and sashayed away, her pert butt swinging in shorts that Hannah could have sworn were longer last week.

To his credit, Brody didn’t watch Beth’s little show; instead he dumped the rest of the food he’d made into a pile on his plate and sat down at the table-a table which suddenly seemed too small.

Hannah tried to ignore him, shoveling the delicious eggs into her mouth with enthusiasm, but she couldn’t help the awareness that crept through her body, causing her to flush. She refused to look at him though, even when she felt his curious gaze upon her.

Beth flounced back into the kitchen and flopped into her chair. In between forkfuls, she chattered inanely, and Brody, seeming preoccupied, answered her. Hannah did her best not to react to his rumbling tone, but tingles ran up and down her flesh, sensitizing her.

Annoyed, she rudely interrupted their pointless conversation. “If you’re going to be sticking around then you’re going to need to pitch in.” She finally looked him in the face when she said this and saw his blue eyes twinkle with mirth. What does he find so funny? she thought crossly.

“I fully intend to do my part. I told you, I’m here for the long haul. Anything in particular that you’d like me to start with?”

“Chain saw.” Hannah blurted the word out and then blushed at his puzzled look. “We need wood, and I can’t start the damned thing. We’ll need several cords for the winter.”

“What have you been doing up ‘til now?” he asked.

“We had enough to make due the last winter since we’d stocked up before everything happened. When we exhausted it in the spring, I started raiding other homes for firewood and furniture,” she admitted. “But I had to stop ‘cause the Jeep died and our gas supply was getting low.”

“Then cords of wood you shall have. I promise to keep you warm while I’m here.” He grinned wolfishly. Hannah felt her blush deepen at his words, the sexual innuendo clear and, to her annoyance, titillating. She’d be burning through some batteries tonight.

Not feeling in control, Hannah excused herself and went to check on her uncle, but she couldn’t stop thinking very naughty thoughts of Brody. She couldn’t hide for long though. Brody came looking for her.

“Why don’t you show me the chain saw that’s been giving you problems?”

Hannah led him to the bane of her existence, a brand-new, gas-powered Ryobi she’d taken from the local hardware store. It was actually the third one; the first two hadn’t survived her frustration.

Brody turned the stupid thing over in his hands, opened the gas compartment for a sniff, then looked at her with a smile. “It’s a two cycle.”

Hannah pursed her lips, annoyed at his vague statement. “And?”

“You forgot to mix it with oil.”

With deft fingers, he dumped the gas reservoir into an empty oil container and then mixed up what he called a ratio fuel mixture. He spoke words like “priming the carb” and “setting the choke,” jargon Hannah couldn’t quite follow, but the result when he’d done his prepping and gave it a few pulls was a growl as the machine started, it’s chain whirring.