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The word rang oddly in my ears for a moment. Alex and I had been friends since we were teens, and he had never asked me for anything. This must have been important. Before I could really make sense of it or ask what he wanted, his voice sounded inside the car again.

“As you know, Chloe arrived yesterday,” he started, and I nodded because he hadn’t stopped babbling about Chloe’s return home for weeks. Knowing how much he missed his daughter and how devastated I’d be if I didn’t get to see my son for years, minus short visits over the holidays, I let him continue without interruption. The other reason I didn’t cut him off was because I truthfully missed Chloe. It had been six years since she left for Italy with her mother after the divorce. Somehow I never ran into Chloe in all her visits back home. It was almost as though she was ignoring me or maybe I was imagining that part. I was always so busy with the resort and my son anyway.

I smiled as he continued. “On the way from the airport we were talkin’, and she was really down over not having a job. Since you’ve been yapping about not having a good administrator since Quinn died, I told her you’d give her a job.”

“Hold on! You did what?”

Although my tone was more surprised than angry, Alex sighed on the other side of the line, and I knew I was screwed. Alex’s sighs were always precursors to guilt trips and him calling in every favor I had accumulated over the years. And there were a shit ton of favors.

“I did exactly what I said,” he replied in the no bullshit tone I was more than used to. Then, before I had a chance to voice my concerns about hiring an inexperienced recent college grad, he went on. “And before you start bitching, let me remind you that you hate dealing with money and papers, and haven’t managed to keep an administrator for more than six months in the past five yea

rs. Chloe is smart and hard working. This would be a win-win situation for all of us. She gets the job she wants, I get to keep my daughter here, and you get rid of the business side of the ranch you hate so much.”

When he put it like that, I had to admit that the idea didn’t sound half bad. I really hated paperwork. All these years running a resort, it never managed to grow on me. My late wife, Quinn, had always been the brains behind the operation. She had the accounting strength, while I have always been more of a hands-on, fixer upper type. Since I hadn’t been able to find someone who was at least half competent all these years, my days had been filled with all the crap that I loathed doing. Maybe having someone I actually trusted wouldn’t be too bad.

“Do you think she’ll be able to handle the work?” I asked in a stern voice.

“Yeah,” Alex said sounding a little more hopeful. “She’s still the same smart, hardworkin’ girl you knew - only taller.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Chloe had been the coolest and brightest kid growing up and, in all honesty, I had missed her when she went away. Having her around could be fun.

Maybe this could work. “Fine, I’ll give her a shot. But if she’s not good enough and I don’t hire her or end up firing her ass, you better not blame me.”

“You’ll want her and won’t have to fire her. I promise.”

I rolled my eyes at his completely biased comment. “Tell her to stop by the office on Monday afternoon, and we’ll see how it goes.”

There was a long, silent pause and knowing my friend as I did, I sighed knowing I was in for a surprise. A few seconds later, Alex cleared his throat. “Here’s the thing, I kind of told her you would talk to her today.”

“It’s Saturday,” I informed simply because that was more than enough for him to understand. We’d been friends for long enough for him to know that Saturdays were devoted to awkward mornings in someone’s bed, terrible hangovers, and time with my son.

“I know, but she was excited, and so was I. It slipped my mind. She’s heading over to your house right now.”

To be honest, there wasn’t much to which I was loyal in my life. My son, my work, and Alex, that was pretty much it. Because of that loyalty—and despite the string of cuss words that formed in my mind—I knew I couldn’t say no to him.

With a grunt and a sideways answer, I put the pedal to the metal and drove toward my house. This day wasn’t starting out as I wanted, but I was going find a way to make it work like I always did.

CHAPTER THREE — CHLOE

Usually, I was a very confident person. I walked tall; I talked strong, and never doubted my intuition. However, as I put my Dad’s truck in park in Conner Wilkes’ driveway and looked at myself in the rearview mirror, I questioned every single decision I had made that day.

While my lightly smoked eyes and pink lipstick had seemed appropriated at home, now they seemed like overkill. The same could be said for the beach waves in my long blond hair and the navy dress I was wearing. My bedroom mirror had assured me that its modest hemline and scooped neckline were professional, but now I was afraid they were too revealing and absolutely wrong for a job interview.

Frustrated out of my mind, I turned the mirror away from my face, leaned my head against the headrest, closed my eyes, and took deep breaths. Deep down, I knew my panic regarding my looks had nothing to do with the interview and everything to do with seeing my old crush again. It was ridiculous, unlike me, and made me borderline nuts.

“Get a grip, Chloe,” I muttered to myself as I reopened my eyes and exited the car.

With a confidence that was seventy-percent fake, I strutted to the white farmhouse. The place was even bigger than I remembered and impeccably kept. For the most part, though, it looked the same. The furniture on the porch was the only thing that had changed in the past six years. Instead of the wicker couches with flowery cushions, the porch now housed a set of raw wood chairs and a collection of leather and bone trinkets on the wall. They made it clear that this house belonged to a single cowboy now.

After yet another calming breath, I raised my hand and gave the front door three good knocks. While I waited, I turned around to gaze at the beautiful scenery. I had forgotten how lovely this place was.

“Can I help you?” a friendly, childish voice sounded behind me.

Turning around again, I looked down at the little boy in a cute pair of Spider-Man pajamas. The last time I had seen him, he was only days old and seeing him now, grown up and looking like a miniature version of Conner, put an instant smile on my lips.

“Hey, there,” I greeted him back, and then asked, “Are you Lucas?”

“Yep,” the boy replied.

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