Page 13 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

Her tight body. Her sweet lips. Her long, dark hair that had brushed over my bare chest as she’d straddled my lap and sunk down on my cock.

Hell. Now I was getting hard again.

A relationship with her or any woman was out of the question, hence my streak of one-night stands over the past year. My focus was my family and the ranch. By the time most days ended, I barely had time for a shower before my head hit the pillow. The bachelor lifestyle suited me just fine. I answered to no one but the land. If I needed company, I had five siblings to call. A woman would require energy I just didn’t have to spare.

Tourists didn’t ask for commitment.

Except she wasn’t a tourist.

Had she known who I was at Willie’s? No way. She’d looked as shocked to meet me at lunch the other day as I’d been to see her. Whatever. None of it mattered. I had no intention of repeating Sunday night.

Winslow was an outsider, and though tempting, I’d keep my distance.

There was work to be done.

“I’m going to drop you off at the shop,” I told Conor. “You can take the fencing truck and head out to the meadow that runs along the road to Indigo Ridge. We’ll be turning out cattle into that pasture in the next few weeks and I noticed some spots that need fixing when I was driving out there the other day.”

“Sure thing.” Conor nodded, his elbow sticking out the open window. “How far should I go?”

“As far as you can. By Friday, I’d like to have that whole area finished.”

Ranch headquarters remained by Mom and Dad’s log house. Though my place saw more and more activity every year, the main shop and the stables would probably always be here, where Dad had built them.

“Call me if you need anything,” I said, parking beside Mom’s Cadillac.

“Will do.” Conor hopped out, then jogged across the wide, open lot that separated my childhood home from the ranch buildings.

Mom walked out of her front door as my boots hit the gravel. “Hi, Conor.”

He slowed, spinning to tip his hat. “Ma’am.”

“That boy is a dear. Has been since he was in diapers.” She smiled at me as I climbed the steps to the wraparound porch.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, son. Got time for coffee or are you already off to the next thing?”

“I need to keep moving, but I wouldn’t say no to a travel mug.”

“I just brewed a fresh pot.” She waved me inside and headed straight for the kitchen.

Dad sat at the island with the newspaper spread across the granite countertop.

The Quincy Gazette came once a week, every Wednesday. When I’d been a kid, those weekly papers would have gone mostly unread because neither Mom nor Dad had had time to read them. Mostly, we’d used them to start fires in the wood stove. But now that Dad was retired, he spent hours poring over every printed word.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hi there.” He straightened, taking his glasses off. “What’s going on today?”

There was an eagerness to his voice like he was waiting for me to extend an invitation for a project. As much as I enjoyed time with my father, today, I needed some time alone. Time to get my head straight and off a certain woman.

But maybe he could save me a trip to town. Going anywhere near city limits seemed risky today.

“I was hoping you might have time to run into town and pick up a bundle of steel fence posts at the Farm and Feed,” I said.

“Sure.” He nodded. “I’ll do it when I’m done with the paper.”

“He’s only read it twice already.” Mom rolled her eyes from the coffeepot.