Page 27

I chuckled, shaking my head. “You think so?”

She turned toward her bag on the floor a few feet away. “Come on, Mr. Stone. We’ve got work to do, and I don’t have all day to stand here while you admire my fashion choices.”

“Admire?” I arched a brow, staying firmly planted at the doorway. “Don’t flatter yourself, Sunshine.”

Her eyes rolled so hard I half-expected them to pop out of her head. She crossed her arms, her stance defiant, but before she could reply, I turned on my heel and started walking back down the hall.

“Let’s get going. Don’t we have work to do?” I called over my shoulder, throwing her own words back at her. Behind me, the door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

Good.

I pressed the elevator button and stood there waiting, exhaling a slow breath. Eleanor caught up a moment later, standing beside me with a dramatic huff, arms crossed tight over her chest like she was shielding herself from my existence.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye but didn’t turn my head. No way was I giving her the satisfaction of acknowledging her tantrum.

She sighed again, louder this time. I remained silent.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I have planned for today?”

“Nope,” I said, still staring straight ahead.

“Why not?”

The elevator finally arrived, and as the doors slid open, I stepped in without answering. She followed, glaring holes into the side of my head.

“Because it doesn’t involve me. I’m just escorting you. Apparently, you’re incapable of walking by yourself,” I said flatly as I hit the button for the lobby.

Her laugh wasn’t humorous—it was sharp, almost…smug.

“Oh, how wrong you are, Mr. Stone.”

My eyes narrowed, and I finally turned to face her. Her grin was borderline evil, the kind of expression that made me both irritated and…intrigued.

“What does that mean?”

She took a step closer, the soft, floral scent of her perfume wrapping around me, intoxicating.

“Tawnie isn’t busy today,” she said, her tone almost too sweet. Her eyes sparkled with something mischievous, and I felt my pulse quicken—not with attraction, but with the sheer nerve of this woman.

“Okay…so?”

“So,” she continued, her grin spreading as she tapped my bicep, “you’re my bitch today.”

I blinked then leaned down slightly. “Excuse me?” My voice was low and full of warning.

“You heard me,” she said breezily, standing her ground. “I needed a way to get you down to the stables. You, Colton, are going to be the star of the show.” She waved her hand like she was unveiling a grand marquee. “You are Stone Ranch, and today, we’re putting this handsome face”—she reached up and tapped my cheek—“all over the internet.”

The light touch of her palm against my skin sent a jolt of something electric straight through me. It wasn’t attraction. It was irritation. Definitely irritation.

I clenched my jaw, leaning closer, my voice a low growl. “You’ve got some nerve, Eleanor.”

Her grin widened, and she leaned in just as close. “You have no idea.”

I WANTED SO damn badly to get off on the next floor and tell her that putting me on social media wasn’t going to happen. I had my reasons for steering clear of that mess, and they were nobody’s business but mine. Then I realized, if I gave her that reaction, she’d only thrive on it.

I plastered a fake smile on my face and stayed put. What other choice did I have? And now, here we were—standing in the stables while the rest of the ranchers hustled around us, doing their jobs. You’d think my presence would light a fire under all their asses, but apparently, I wasn’t as intimidating as I thought to one in particular.

Carson West—who stood off to the side, leaning against a bunch of hay bales with his attention glued on something else.