Page 16 of His Last Nerve

Denver

“Whatthehelldidyou say to that pretty woman to make her cry like that?” Beau asked from behind me.

I grunted in response, not taking my eyes off the security feed playing on the screen in front of me. We were in my office, in my house. Two years ago, I spent a shit ton of money on a security system. There had been a group of idiots going to different ranches and stealing supplies. The boys and I got tired of taking watchman shifts, it wasn’t doing anyone any good if we were missing sleep.

There were cameras posted at the front entry, the house, all sides of the barn and the bunk house. Cost me a pretty fucking penny, because all the lines ran underground, but it was worth it.

Now, sitting here after a hard day in the fields, watching that beautiful woman cry in her car, it didn’t seem worth it anymore to me. My jaw tightened as I watched her, bury her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. The red rental was parked outside the property line, and it should have pissed me off. I’d told her to leave.

Instead, her crying caused my chest to tighten.

I didn’t like that.

She was hunched over for more than twenty minutes, crying into her hands. Her dark hair fell around her, shielding her face from my view.

She took my words to heart, and she was crying over them.

Ignoring the tightening in my chest, I thought;good.

That means she won’t come back. This was good. I didn’t need some city girl on my land, representing some company—most likely a fucking pipeline—on my fucking land.

Not a chance in hell.

They were smart though, I’d give them that, sending in a beautiful woman first.

Except she wasn’t just a beautiful woman. No.

She was the most enchanting thing I’d ever seen.

Which meant she was dangerous.

A threat.

To me.

To my son.

To Hallow Ranch and its future.

“Boss?”

I blinked and looked to Beau, who was leaning against the doorframe. Mags was looking out the window. Jigs, Beau’s father, was sitting in the chair across from my desk. Caleb’s chair. He liked to sit in here with his old man while I did the books and ordered supplies. The twins, Lance and Lawson, were in town, getting everyone dinner from Ching’s.

I didn’t eat with my cowboys often, but every few weeks or so, I would send someone into town to pick up dinner, on me. Every Sunday, I would cook them breakfast in the bunkhouse.

“If she comes back, what do you want us to do?” Beau asked.

“Tell her to get the fuck off the ranch.”

“And if she keeps coming back?” That came from Mags.

“Then call Sheriff Bowen,” I spat, closing the laptop. I took a seat, my lower back aching from breaking in that horse last week. I winced, shifting in my seat.

“Your back?” Jigs asked.

I nodded, taking off my hat and setting it on the desk. “That fucking mustang from last week.” The room filled with low chuckles.

“That beast put you in your place, Denver,” Mags said, his voice low.

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