I don’t give him a chance to answer. I dart upstairs, clean up, and shrug into my nightshirt. Catching myself in the mirror, I stop. My nipples poke through the fabric, and while the shirt may fall nearly to my knees, I have nothing but pants on underneath it.
I wrestle into the bra that was on top of my dresser and jump into a pair of shorts. Both will come off once I’m closed in the guest room—with many of his things. An excited thrill curls through my belly.
The sound of running water flushes through the pipes. He’s in the other bathroom. I rush down the stairs, ready to lock myself in the guest room, but as I’m streaking down the hall, the bathroom door opens, and he turns out. I let out a yelp and skid to a stop, nearly dropping my bundle of clothing.
Holy crap, his chest…Dusted with dark hair as fascinating as his permanent five-o’clock shadow, there’s nothing but muscles, ripples, and bronzed skin. The hallmark line of a farmer’s tan is starting at his biceps, and I’mriveted.
He sidesteps. “Shit. Sorry.”
Startled, I step in the same direction. “Sorry!”
We move in the same direction again—and again. His chest rumbles with a deep chuckle.
Oh god.He’s laughed twice now. And that smile. My panties don’t just melt off—they evaporate.Poof.I’m lucky my shirt doesn’t turn to ash from the heat coursing through me.
He puts his big, hot hands on my shoulders and nudges me to the left. The strength emanating from his gentle grip robs all the balance from my knees. Flutters explode in my belly, and I cannot think about the sensation building between my thighs. I didn’t bring spare underwear downstairs, and I can’t sleep in his bed having soaked through mine.
But wow, I’m turned-on. Hallway dancing with Calder is my kink. Making him smile? Instantly wet. Even when he’s an asshole, I can’t seem to control myself.
He releases his hands, his fingers gliding down my arms to my fingertips. I haven’t forgotten when we held hands in my parents’ bedroom, but I chalked it up to loss. Shared grief. What’s the reason for this?
He leans close, his mouth to my ear. “Night, rosy. Sleep tight in my bed.”
“Futon,” I say weakly as a shiver whispers down my spine.
But he’s gone, and I’m left in the cool hallway with the AC gusting from the vents.
I’m afraid I’m going to sleep so tight in his bed I won’t want to leave.
SEVENTEEN
CALDER
The door to the room I was using is still closed when I wake. I’m quiet, getting ready to give Meredith a chance to rest. The urge to peek in on her comes out of nowhere when I walk by. I grit my teeth and keep going until I hit the mudroom.
I bypass my cowboy hat and find a new Crossroads Ranch ball cap that won’t blow off my head. The first thing I do is check the barn office for any signs someone went through it. It proves impossible to tell, when papers were previously scattered, fingerprints are already disrupting the dust layer, and there’s nothing on the laptop but cattle records and inventory. Unless someone wants to see how close to the red this ranch runs, there’s nothing on it, and it appears untampered with.
Next, I get lost in chores and try to forget about possible break-ins and the beautiful woman who slept on the other side of the wall.
“How’s business?” Carlos asks after I park the truck with the water tank by the barn. He’s reclining on the flatbed.
I stretch, enjoying the loosening of stiff muscles from the sun beating down on me. Wind gusts around the barn. Always with the wind. I shouldn’t have missed that, of all things, but I did. It means I’m outside, and the breeze, however strong, carriessmells of home. Pungent manure, fresh blossoms, and normal dust. All things I don’t get in the city.
“Are you asking about CFC, or if Jules Creek’s bottom line is as dismal as the ranch’s?”
He flips off his hat, runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper strands, and then stuffs the ball cap back into place. “God, I hope not.” He squints at me. “Is it?”
“I haven’t dug that far.” But judging by the employees’ wages, any profit isn’t trickling down to them. The place is in good shape, yet nothing’s been upgraded for years. I haven’t been to the mech shop yet. Dad and Meredith cared for the equipment. That’s who they are. But is it also out of necessity? “What do you think I’m going to find?”
Carlos shrugs. “Hard to say, but he seemed more worried about something beyond just the financing for this place.”
Shit.I’m not going to like it. “Why all the loans?”
“We had bad year after bad year for a while. Just couldn’t catch a break, and you know how your dad was—he wouldn’t ask for help. For a while there, Ransom was managing Jules Creek without Meredith. Sawyer was finishing vet school at the same time, and he didn’t realize how much he relied on her. Things started slipping through the cracks.” He sighs and gets a faraway look. “There was the drought a few years ago, and blister beetles. We hemorrhaged money on hay to get through. Then came breakdown after breakdown. And the market always sucks. We needed to upgrade, but after those bad years, well…insurance only does so much. Can’t blame him for all the financing.”
I’ll wait on those issues until another brother arrives. Something else Carlos said caught my attention. “Before Dad died, you thought there was something else bothering him?”
“Yeah. He was working through some shit he didn’t talk about. That’s like him, but also…not.”
