I’d asked the cook—I knew her name was Ruth—for an egg white omelet. She hadn’t laughed me out of the place; she’d told me to sit. But what she’d brought me later wasn’t by any stretch a perfect, or even rustic, omelet, but overcooked scrambled eggs that I’d stubbornly eaten a couple ofmouthfuls of as I checked out the room. I couldn’t swallow tablets without food, so I had to havesomething.
The only other person in here was the young man from yesterday—Miguel—sitting alone at another table, quiet. I’d waited for him to look up. I even had a smile ready, but he hadn’t looked at me once.
And now here was Jesse, speaking easily to the cook while she rolled her eyes in my direction. I’d realized, sitting there with eggshell between my teeth, where I stood in the hierarchy—and how far outside it I was.
Not that I cared. I hadn’t come here to make friends or win anyone over. I was here to assess the land and the assets, figure out what existed on paper versus reality, and then get through six months before I could inherit. After that, I was done.
Done.
Jesse’s gaze flicked my way. It shouldn’t have mattered. It lasted barely a second, no expression I could pin down, just a quick assessment before he turned back to Ruth.
Jesse shifted closer to the counter, shrugging out of his coat. Snow slid free and hit the floor, darkening into wet patches around his boots. He rolled his shoulders once, as if he was loosening a knot, and I found myself tracking the movement before I could stop myself.
I stared back down at my plate, jaw set.
They were all variables on the ranch, all names I knew from accounts, complications to be managed, and Jesse… well, he wasnotwhatever my body had briefly tried to make of him withall his sexy growliness.
Unfocused, I took another bite of the eggs and regretted it.
Jesse grabbed a mug from the counter, filled it without asking, and crossed the room. Of course, he didn’t sit with me, and instead, with his back to me, he dropped into the chair opposite the young man.
“Morning,” Jesse said to him.
The young man glanced up. His expression relaxed. “Morning, boss.”
They sat easily together. Jesse said something low that made the other man huff a quiet laugh, eyes dropping to his mug.
I didn’t mean to watch. I definitely didn’t mean to notice how Jesse angled his body in, and how his voice stayed pitched just for him to hear.
It shouldn’t have mattered he was telling me in no uncertain terms that he had a good relationship with people on the ranch, as if he were underscoring thatIdidn’t. Something in my chest tightened, and I pushed my plate away before I could force myself to eat another bite. I wasn’t there to be liked.
Six months, I reminded myself. Assess. Report. Sell. Leave.
Don’t think about the community here. Or the names.
I didn’t look at Jesse again. Not once.
Well, apart from the few glances to check where he was sitting and that he wasn’t looking at me.
That was all.
Ruth appeared at my elbow without warning and liftedthe plate before I could object. She eyed the sad remains, one eyebrow ticking up.
“Not liking your food, then?”
I straightened. “I loved it, Ruth,” I said, too quickly, and her eyes narrowed, probably because I knew her name and used it. “Just—you know. Not hungry.”
Her mouth twitched as though she didn’t believe a word of it. She stacked the plate on her arm and moved off without another comment.
I sat there for a second longer, stomach empty, pride bruised, already mentally inventorying the candy stashed in my luggage. Chocolate bars, emergency sugar, the kind of snacks I packed when I didn’t trust life to take care of me.
If this was how things were going to be, candy would have to count as lunch, too.
The young man drained the last of his coffee and stood, chair legs scraping across the floor. He nodded once at Jesse, quick and familiar, then glanced my way. Just a flicker of focus, curious more than anything else, before he pulled his jacket on and headed out of the door. I didn’t even have time to throw him that smile I’d been practicing in my head.
Cold rushed in after him, cutting through the warm air of the room, and it was time for me to leave as well—I had a car to dig out and empty. I stood a beat slower than anyone else might, waiting for my leg to agree with me, counting back from ten. Then, I pulled my coat on and contemplated talking to Jesse, maybe ingratiating myself, apologizing for the fire, but that wasn’t me, I didn’tdomaking friends. I’d never had them when I had a home, I didn’t when I was homeless, and I’d learned very quicklythat surviving my life was on me, not anyone else. Of course, I had Dalton and Rebecca, but they had forced their friendship on me so aggressively I had no choice but to give in.
The obstinate cowboy didn’t even turn to watch me leave.
