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Liberty rolled her eyes before she made the introductions. “Mama, Daddy, Mimi, this is Jesse Cates. He works for that lowdown snake Corbin Whitlock. Jesse, this is my mama, Darla, my daddy, Hank, and my grandmother, Mitzy.”
“Mimi is fine,” Mimi said.
Darla looked more than a little confused, but she recovered her manners quickly. “Well, isn’t it nice that you dropped by, Mr. Cates.”
“Just Jesse,” he said.
“You can call me Darla.” She glanced at her husband who was still pointing the shotgun at Jesse. “Put the gun away, honey. I’m sure Jesse isn’t here to kick us out of our house.” She looked back at him. “Are you?”
“No, ma’am. I didn’t even plan to stop by.” He glanced at Mimi and she took over the explanation.
“I found him sitting out on the road in his big ol’ truck. He claimed he just wanted to see the ranch for himself. So I figured we should give him the full tour.” She turned to Liberty. “Why don’t you do that, Libby Lou, while your mama and I fix him some sweet tea?”
Liberty opened her mouth to no doubt refuse, but then closed it again. After only a slight hesitation, she came down the porch steps to stand in front of him. He wished she hadn’t. His body was already acting a fool. Being surrounded by her scent didn’t help. She smelled like she looked—a country mix of spring flowers and home cooking. When he took a deep breath, the longing that punched him in the gut almost doubled him over.
She didn’t feel the same way.
Her eyes flashed like green fire as she spoke between her teeth. “I’d be delighted to show you around the ranch your boss is planning on stealing.”
“Not boss,” Mimi corrected. “Jesse says they’re friends.”
Liberty gave him another blazing look before she turned and headed for the barn. Her jean shorts had been cut off unevenly and one perfectly curved butt cheek peeked out with every long stride she took. His mouth went dry and his knees turned to water.
Lord have mercy.
A chuckle pulled him out of his butt-cheek trance and he glanced over to find Mimi watching him with a smirk on her thin lips.
“You better get goin’, Jesse Cates. Liberty isn’t the type of woman who likes to be kept waiting.”
Chapter Five
The last thing Liberty wanted to do was spend more time with Jesse Cates. She knew what Mimi was trying to do. She was trying to suck up to Jesse in hopes he could talk Corbin out of foreclosing on the ranch. But like Liberty tried to explain to her grandmother that morning, Jesse was the type of man who cared only for himself.
She knew this because she had dated more than her fair share of men and had become a bit of a connoisseur of the male species. There were men like Sheriff Decker Carson and Rome Remington—hardworking men who cared for their families and their town. They took life seriously. Then there were men like Jesse Cates—fun-lovin’ good ol’ boys who cared only about themselves. Their only desire was to enjoy life to the fullest. They took nothing serious. Liberty’s family losing the ranch didn’t mean a hill of beans to men like Jesse. She wasn’t about to suck up to a man like that.
As soon as she was inside the barn, she whirled around with every intention of telling him just that.
Except he hadn’t followed her.
She moved to the open door and looked out. He was bent over with his head stuck in the cab of his obnoxious redneck truck. It figured he would drive a macho monstrosity with tires as big as a Volkswagen’s. Two huge flags drooped from poles attached to the cab. As far as she was concerned, Texas and American flags had no business hanging over the bed of a dirty old truck—a truck with faded, peeling stickers cluttering the back window and a dented, rusted bumper. One was of a little boy peeing on a Ford emblem and another was a Dallas Cowboys star. The others were too faded to read, but she could guess that they said something arrogant and obnoxious.
She tapped her bare foot as she waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.
What was he doing?
Whatever it was, it hadn’t been easy. When he finally pulled his head out of the truck, his Stetson was missing and his hair stood on end. He was holding a jean jacket tightly to his chest. Why he had spent so long looking for a jacket, she had no idea. It had to be over eighty degrees outside. It wasn’t until he started toward the barn that she noticed the jacket wiggling.
“What in the world do you have?” she asked as soon as he stepped into the barn.
“The daughter of Satan.” He lowered the collar of the jean jacket and a furry little head popped out. The sweet blue eyes blinked at her and Liberty’s heart melted. Babies of any kind were Liberty’s weakness.
“Aww, you sweet little thing.” She reached out to pet the tiger-striped kitten and received a sharp nip for her troubles. She jerked her hand back.
“I tried to warn you,” Jesse said. “Tay-Tay has a bit of an attitude problem.”
“Tay-Tay? As in Taylor Swift?”
He shifted the kitten in his arms. “That would be the Tay.”
