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“Difficult? It’s fucking impossible. They’re putting me out of business—me and all the other hard-working ranchers out here. All so they can play at ranching. So they can experiment and mess up tried-and-true methods ranchers have been using out here for over a hundred years. Their daddy would roll in his grave if he could see it.”
I flinch at the mention of the Hollisters’ father, but cover it quickly and nod again. And then I just listen. But after that there’s not much information to be had in Jed Burke’s tirade. At one point, Amber comes and brings him a delicious-smelling burger that makes me wish I ordered more than the iced tea. But he ignores his lunch in favor of continuing to tell me how the Hollisters have wronged him.
When he finally pauses to take a breath, I cut in. “Thank you so much, Mr. Burke. Do you have a card so I can follow up with you over the phone if I need to?”
He grumbles something under his breath and reaches into his shirt pocket pull out a card. It’s so bent around the edges I wonder how long he’s been carrying it around. “You call me if you need to hear more of the real story.”
I thank him again. Then I leave five dollars on the table for my iced tea and head out the door.
I do my best not to rush down the street away from café, but it’s difficult. Just the amount of anger spilling out of that man is enough to make me cringe. But is it possible his anger is well-founded?
I trot down the immaculate sidewalk of Sweet Lake, and text Clay as I go. To my surprise, he’s waiting by the truck when I get there. And he gives me a lazy grin when he sees me.
“How do you like our little town?” he asks, waving at the street around us.
“It’s really nice.” Maybe I would have been more emphatic in my assessment before talking to Jed, but I can’t help it. He left a sour feeling in my stomach.
I hop into the passenger seat and toss my bag ahead of me, but I’m not used to the height of the pickup, and I stumble. The bag—filled with only one thing—tips and spills. Leaving my prenatal vitamins in the open for all to see when Clay opens his door.
Panic grips me and I grab the bottle then shove it back in the bag. Praying under my breath he didn’t see the bottle.
“You ready to head back to the ranch?” Clay asks, voice casual.
I nod, unable to speak. He didn’t see, thank God.
Chapter 10
Trey
I watch from a chair in the living room as Jessa walks down the stairs. Cut off jean shorts reveal long, sexy legs. She’s also changed into a tank top, and is wearing boots.
Damn. Just in time, I manage to pick my jaw up off the floor.
Jessa smiles at me and pulls her earbuds out. “Hi Trey.”
I grunt and clear my throat. “Evening.”
Despite the fact I’m doing my best to keep my eyes on hers, she glances down at her outfit and frowns. “I’m sorry. My travel kit only includes one pair of jeans. I thought I should borrow your laundry facilities before they started standing on their own. I couldn’t bear to put on real work clothes, if you know what I mean. You guys are spoiling me here with the casual wear.”
Legs aside, just her smile is enough to stun a man. It lights up the whole damn room. And despite the fact that I know I should be keeping my distance, I smile back. “We appreciate you not stinking up the place up.”
She laughs, a sensual noise that makes me want to grab her. Kiss her. I can’t do that.
But I’m starting to forget all the reasons I shouldn’t.
“You ready for some dinner?” I ask, standing up. I have to say something, otherwise I’m going to start looking like an ogling creep.
She follows me to the kitchen. “I was hoping there might be something left. I got started writing and totally missed the normal time.”
I shrug. “I’m sure I can rustle something up for you. I ate a light dinner, so I’m hungry, too.” I open the fridge and stare inside. Ah-ha. A casserole that just needs tossed into the oven. BethAnn is amazing, one in a million. She always keeps things around the house that are easy to cook. “Some kind of chicken casserole, sound good to you?” I ask, after peeking under the aluminum foil.
“Sounds amazing.” She hesitates, frowning. “You mind if I ask you some questions in the meantime?” She rushes to add, “For the story, I mean.”
“After dinner work for you?” I ask. “I been out wrestling cattle most of the day so my brain could use a few minutes before answering your tough reporter questions.”
A low chuckle escapes her, and my dick goes hard in my pants. How could a laugh sound so sexy?
“Fair enough,” she says.
