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It’s not often a guy’s cock blocked by a member of Congress. I hoped it was the first, and last, time. As I drove down the Steele Ranch’s long, dusty driveway, I flicked my gaze up to the rearview mirror, checking on Kitten. She’d been quiet, looking out the window the whole way. Her relationship with her mother had come to a head and I hoped this would be the showdown Boone and I had been waiting for.
A parent had to cut the fucking apron strings at some point, but because Nancy Vandervelk hadn’t yet—the perfect example of a helicopter parent—she perhaps assumed she could maintain control over her adult daughter as well. Kitten had enabled her mother to do so. Until now.
Now, she had us. She had the power of the Steele name, even if it wasn’t hers legally. She had the backing of Kady, Riley and Cord. The other men on the ranch. She had a family. Not a blood one, but a group of people who truly cared about her and her well-being.
And she had money. Money to live her life where she wanted, how she wanted. And when we took her to the courthouse to be legally wed, she’d take Boone’s name. What she didn’t know was that he was rich as fuck. He had Copper King money in his past. His Butte predecessors had made fortunes in the copper rush in the 1800s and generations after that were smart enough to invest the money, to make it grow. He knew what it was like to have woman after him for his money and he hid the wealth well. Kitten didn’t give a shit about it. She hadn’t from the start.
But he’d tested her that first night in the gas station, to see if she was more interested in a Jaguar in her garage than anything else. She’d passed, and claimed Boone’s heart then and there.
She didn’t need her mother in her life. If Nancy Vandervelk was going to be a stone cold bitch, then Kitten could just send her on her way.
I had a mother. So did Boone. Both of them were eager to hop on the next flight and meet our Kitten, hug her right up and never let go.
But this meeting, all of it, was up to Kitten. If she wasn’t ready to deal with her mom, I’d be disappointed, but I’d be patient. Family was great, but they were hard on the emotions.
All that mattered was that Kitten was safe and happy. And that Nancy Vandervelk’s job kept her two time zones away.
I parked to the side of the main house, two identical black SUVs were parked out front and I had no intention of blocking them in. If they wanted to leave, and take the Wicked Witch of the East with them, I wasn’t going to stop them. Two suits stood on the front porch steps, the woman herself or the rest of her entourage not visible.
I glanced over my shoulder at Kitten.
“Ready?”
Boone unclipped his seatbelt, spun around. “We can leave. Jamison can turn his truck around and head right on out of here. She may have come all this way, but you don’t have to see her.”
She smiled at us. “Thank you for that. But she wouldn’t have come here if it weren’t important, at least to her. She won’t linger.”
But the fallout might.
“Trust me. She likes a lot of concrete.” She opened her door, and we followed, flanked her as she walked around to the front of the house. “Let’s get this over with.”
PENNY
It had been sixteen days since I’d seen my mother last. Yes, I knew the exact count. Since I was ten, I’d been parted from her more than I’d been with her, so it wasn’t anything new. But I was. New, that is.
I wasn’t the same woman who’d driven up to the ranch with my belongings in the back of my car. I knew now that I truly was a Steele. I looked nothing like my father—nor my mother, for that matter—but I had his spirit. I knew it, felt it on the ranch. The freedom, the open spaces, the opportunities to stretch and grow, to be whatever I wanted. It wasn’t stifling or confining. That was all intangible. Just like my feelings for Boone and Jamison. The love I had for them wasn’t measurable, it wasn’t a thing. It existed, without being seen. I knew they loved me. I knew they would be there for me no matter what. To take my burdens, to even carry them for me.
I felt the weight of their rings on my finger. I was unused to the feel of them, the sight, but it was a reminder of that love. A tangible reminder. So was the baby most likely growing inside me.
“There you are,” my mother said, coming out onto the porch, her heels clacking on the wood boards. She had on one of her power suits, as if she’d just walked out of a committee meeting and not the front door of a ranch house in Barlow, Montana. Her dark hair was perfectly groomed, her makeup subtle and understated.
Sutton followed behind, but lingered by the door. He didn’t look happy, but he never really did. He was probably the perfect person to wait with my mother because he could have withstood any interrogation she may have attempted. Out of all the men on the ranch, he’d survive unscathed. Patrick and Shamus would be crying by now.
“Here I am,” I replied neutrally.
I remained at the bottom of the steps. While she had a height advantage, I had no reason to get close to her. It wasn’t as if we hugged. And her security men stood on either side of her. She appeared unapproachable, not superior as she wanted. She only looked that way when I let her have that edge over me. Not any longer.
“What is that ridiculous outfit you’re wearing?”
She stood, hands folded in front of her, her eyes taking in every inch of me.
I didn’t look down at my button-up shirt, the jean skirt and cowboy boots I loved so much.
“You’ve met Sutton, I’m sure,” I said, not responding to her question, to her dig.
She angled her head in his direction, but didn’t look behind her. “Yes.”
“May I introduce you to Jamison.” I lifted my hand in his direction, then toward Boone. They remained behind me a few feet. “And Boone.” I didn’t tell her anything more about them. The less she knew, the better, and I doubted she even cared.
