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Well, we’d met her all right. And I’d scared her away.
I watched Rachel now, smiling at that sleazy ass with his chinos and polo shirt, like he was some sort of big shot preppy playboy and not the owner of a small-time hardware store in a tiny town. I had nothing against small business owners. Fuck no. I just had a problem with assholes.
She looked amazing, as always. At the office, she wore the unofficial uniform of jeans and a button-down shirt with the Hawk’s Landing logo on it, just like Ethan and me. She always looked professional and put together with her long, soft brown hair pulled back in a bun or simple ponytail. Her business attire didn’t detract from her beauty, only enhanced the feeling of untouchability. Professional, friendly, but nothing more. Just what we wanted from our employees.
But not tonight.
Tonight her hair was down, like it had been at the rodeo. It curled gently around her shoulders, softening her delicate features and making her seem younger and more lighthearted than she was at the office. She’d swapped out the jeans for a sundress, and even though it covered her modestly, it molded to her body in a way those damn buttoned-down shirts of hers failed to do.
Her tits looked amazing and the hint of cleavage was enough to get me hard, even from across the room. They’d definitely be a handful. My fingers itched to find out. I remembered the way her eyes had darkened with lust when I’d whispered those damned dirty words at the rodeo. She’d been turned on and so had I. I hadn’t had to use much imagination when I described the ways I wanted to touch and fuck her. I’d had those images seared into my brain the moment she stepped into my line of vision.
The fact that she’d gotten turned on made me even harder. There was a wild side to this one. A naughty girl hidden beneath that prim and proper exterior. I’d seen it for a minute or two, but she’d vanished the moment I opened my big mouth and ruined the moment. I’d tried to scare her off and I’d succeeded. I’d used the words as a weapon, and that had tainted them. The sexy vixen had gone back into hiding after that and I never saw a hint of her again. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I would have believed Rachel was just as cold and distant as she appeared to be.
But here, tonight, with her hair down and her body on display, it was like getting a glimpse of the real Rachel, the one who she tried too hard to hide.
I liked this new look. Hell, I loved it. But I hated the fact that it was Bob sitting across from her, soaking in the sight of her warm smile and generous curves. That she’d dressed that way for him. It should have been Ethan and me.
I heard Ethan sigh beside me. “She’s beautiful when she smiles.”
If he’d been talking about anyone other than Rachel, I would have laughed and teased him mercilessly for pining over some chick. But this wasn’t some chick and I was just as gone as he was. We were both a couple of lovestruck, mooning idiots. Bridgewater men knew their woman right off. That was true for the two of us. That might not have been such a bad thing if we weren’t stuck on the sidelines watching some other man woo our girl.
Ethan was right. She did have a beautiful smile. It lit up her face, making her green eyes sparkle. She all but glowed.
I leaned forward, not even trying to pretend I wasn’t staring. She was smiling, all right, but it wasn’t genuine. Her lips were curved up, but it didn’t go beyond that. She may not have been interested in me in any way, but I watched her. Saw everything about her. When she was tired, frustrated, sad, happy. Even when she had a fucking headache, I could tell. So when she plastered on her you’re an annoying guest but I have to make you happy face, I smacked Ethan’s shoulder. “Look again.”
CHAPTER FOUR
MATT
He frowned and gave me an annoyed stare. “We shouldn’t be staring. The last thing we need is to creep her out by stalking her on her night off.”
He was probably right, but I ignored him. My gut was telling me that something wasn’t right, and it wasn’t just the fact that our woman was on a date with another man. As I watched, I could see the tension building in her.
“It’s not stalking if we’re watching out for her.” I nodded my head in her direction. “Look closely. Does it seem like she’s having a good time to you?”
Ethan turned once again, shifting slightly for a better view, but a waitress passed with a tray of drinks. I watched as his expression went from curious to intent to furious. “What the hell is going on over there? She looks ready to bolt out of her seat.”
I nodded. That had been my take, too. Her shoulders had grown tense, her spine rigid. The smile that had seemed genuine was now a pale imitation. What had Bob said or done to make our girl go all uptight and panicky? If we weren’t here to watch out for her, she wasn’t alone. She had a roomful of patrons to turn to if she needed help. All she had to do was raise her voice and make a commotion. But she wasn’t doing that and I didn’t like knowing she was unhappy. Not for one single second, especially with the douche canoe.
I couldn’t stand around and hypothesize any longer. Shoving my stool away from the bar, I made my move. I heard Ethan right behind me. He didn’t try to stop me, thank god. Not that he could have. The closer I got to her, the clearer I could see her discomfort.
“Matt.” Ethan said my name like a warning. He was worried I was going to lose my temper and he had a right to think it.
Ever since the injury to my shoulder—ever since my baseball career was flushed down the toilet—I’d had a bit of an anger issue. It had been my dream to pitch for the big leagues and I’d had it, but it had been yanked from me years before I was ready. I’d had the dream but had to walk away because of a fucking shoulder. At twenty-seven, I’d had to look for a new career, to decide what I wanted to be when I grew up. I never imagined it being owner of a guest ranch in the middle of nowhere in Montana. And so it had taken awhile to get over the disappointment, the anger at my own body for sabotaging my dream. Hell, I’d been mad at the world.
Whatever it was, I’d been battling waves of irrational anger, trying my best to work through it any way I knew how. Riding at the rodeo, for example. Doing something wild and reckless. Putting in long hours working on the ranch.
All of that was fine and good for keeping my temper in check when dealing with the more annoying guests and the tedious vendors. But no amount of physical exertion could temper my anger now. This was different. My anger wasn’t directed inward. Adrenaline flooded through me as every instinct told me to protect our woman.
I felt Ethan’s hand on my arm as we drew close. He tugged to get me to slow down. “Remember, we want to scare him, not her.”
I paused long enough to take a deep breath. He was right. I’d fucked things up enough with my ill-advised asshole act at the rodeo, I’d be damned if I’d make things worse tonight.
I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands, fighting for control. Goddamn it, I hated when he was right. But like it or not, he was the levelheaded one. And since I’d done such a bang-up job back at the rodeo and fucked up his shot with Rachel too, I didn’t have a leg to stand on.
I turned to him and gave him a short nod. “You do the talking.”
Ethan gave me a small smile and slapped my shoulder. He knew how hard it was for me to stand there and act like a gentleman, when all I really wanted to do was drag Bob out of his seat, ask him what the hell he’d done to make Rachel unhappy, and then bury my fist in his gut.
