by Maisey Yates
“Don’t you have your own place?” he asked his friend.
Jericho grinned. That particular grin of his, the one he got when he wasn’t being genuinely friendly. “Yeah. I do. Just came to see how everyone was faring. Saw your truck, and thought I’d see how you were doing with your life as a ranch hand.”
“What is it exactly that you find that so funny?”
“Because long as I’ve known you, you’ve never taken orders from anyone. And I hear you’re taking orders from her.”
“Not exactly.”
“And sleeping in a bunkhouse,” Honey said. “If I recall the terms of the bet correctly.”
“Turns out the bunkhouse was in disrepair. I’m sleeping inside.”
That earned him openmouthed stares from both Jericho and Honey.
“Really?” Jericho asked, a dark brow lifting.
“Really,” he said, giving his friend a flat look.
Jericho frowned. “I didn’t take you for a cradle robber.”
“I’m not.” He shoved his discomfort aside, shoved the memory of a couple hours ago aside. “Anyway, I didn’t take you for a busybody.”
“Well, it’s not every day my best friend is suitably lowered to such a position. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it.”
“Some friend.”
“I never claimed to be a good friend, just the best one you have.”
“No kidding,” Honey said. “Just an exasperating one. Anyway, I have work to do, unlike you two lazy cowboys. I actually still work here.”
“And the place is hopping,” Jericho said, looking around the empty space.
“I have a bachelorette party coming in twenty minutes. And no, I’ve decided neither of you can stay. I can’t bear watching you go for the low-hanging fruit. I’d like to have more respect for you.”
“I never pick low-hanging fruit,” Jericho said. “The sweetest ones are at the top of the tree.”
“Well, put up your ladder somewhere else, cowboy. Because you’re not picking off this one.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “The ladies deserve to have a party in peace.”
Both he and Jericho allowed Honey to kick them out of the room, and he walked out toward his truck with his friend. “What were you really doing here?”
“I... I have a meeting with your dad.”
“You have a meeting with my dad?”
“Yes. About the vineyard.”
“Really?”
“You and Creed are silent partners. At least, more or less these days. Your dad is... Well, he’s not enjoying this as much as he used to. He wants to get out of it.”
“Are you buying my dad out?”
“Talking about it.”
For some reason, that bothered Jackson. “You didn’t think to talk to me about it?”
“It’s a business deal, Jackson. I don’t have to talk to you about my business.”
Jackson knew that Jericho had been very successful with investments. His friend was a rancher, but he was a great deal more than that. Successful, extremely so, and not because he sat on his hands, or did things with caution.
“No. But you are my friend.”
“Yes. I’m talking to you now. But I figured I would have a conversation with your father before I did that. I haven’t finalized anything yet.”
“What’s the deal?”
“I’m buying half. And I’m going to transition to running the day-to-day.”
“That means you’re buying Honey’s portion.”
“She hasn’t come into it yet. Because of her age. So yes.”
“She’s going to be...”
“She should be free of this. Don’t you think?”
“Now you’re going to tell me that you have nothing but my sister’s best interest at heart?”
Jericho shook his head. “No. But I care about her too. I’m not just acting without thought.”
Jackson shook his head. “She’s going to kick you in the nuts.”
“She might. Like I said. It’s business. It’s not personal.”
“It kind of has to be personal. Given that our relationship is personal.”
“If it were personal, I would be buying him out for a good deal. I’m not. I’m overpaying.”
“Well, at least there’s that.”
His dad hadn’t told Jackson, of course. Bottom line, there had been a wedge between his parents whether his dad was ever going to address it or not, and by default Jackson had ended up on his mother’s team. They had all rallied when they’d needed to. His dad had been there for his mom. He couldn’t fault him for that. No. If only it were more straightforward. If only things had been toxic. Because if they had been toxic then Jackson could have disavowed his dad. If his father hadn’t been there for his mother, then Jackson could easily cut his father out of his life.
But it was never going to be that simple. His dad wasn’t a bad man. But as far as Jackson could tell he’d been a bad husband.
He’d also been there when it had counted.
“Look, I gotta get back to work. I’ll see you around.”
Jackson got into his truck, leaving Jericho standing there, leaving his conflicted feelings there at Cowboy Wines, because it was easier than staying and confronting them. Honestly, dealing with Cricket was much easier than all of this.
Five
Cricket was bound and determined to pretend that nothing had happened earlier. Though, when Jackson arrived in his truck, she was a little bit chagrined. She had hoped that she might get a small reprieve. After all, he hadn’t said why he’d left, and it was entirely possible that he figured, since she had run away from him like someone not thinking straight, he had every right to back out of their agreement. But no, he was back.
She flung open the door to the house, and stood there with a grin fixed permanently on her face. A grin that dared him to comment.
He got a couple of paper bags out of the truck, and held them. Standing there staring at her.
“Glad you’re back,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready to fix the sink.”
“Well great,” she said.
“Yeah, I said I would.”
He slammed the door of the truck shut and began to walk toward her. She scampered back through the entryway, but still stood there, with her hand on the door. She didn’t want to look like she was running scared. Not again. She needed to get a grip. That was the thing. She needed to stop acting this way.
“I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, I mean, you said.”
He brushed past her, and she held her breath. Because she didn’t want to smell him. Didn’t want to get the impression of his scent again, because it did weird things to her insides and she heavily resented all the weird things Jackson did to her insides. She couldn’t think about it right now though. Because she had to act... She had to act like everything was okay. She just really desperately needed to pretend like everything that happened earlier hadn’t happened.
He set the bags on the table and she stood in the doorway, watching as he got out pipes and tape and tools.
“Do you want to learn something?”
“Well, you are ever the teacher.”
They had found a way back to their earlier rapport, so there was that.
“That I am.”
“Where’s the water shut off, Cricket?”
“I don’t know that,” she said.
He shook his head. “Well, we’re going to have to turn the water off or we’re going to end up with a flood.”
“Okay. Maybe it’s... Maybe it’s in one of the cabinets.”
“The water shut off is in the cabinet.”
“No, I mean the instructions. There’s some paperwork that has information on the house. In this cabinet.” She walk
ed past him and reached up into a cabinet that was full of papers. She didn’t have enough dishes or utensils to bother moving them. She had plenty of space in the kitchen that they could stay right there. She pulled out the paperwork and spread it out on the table, rifling through the sheets, but he had already walked out of the room. She heard the door shut, and a few moments later he was back.
“Found it.”
“How?”
“Logic. Experience,” he said. “Anyway. It’s fine now.”
“I should probably know where the water shut off is,” she said, still standing there holding the papers.
“I’ll show you afterward.” He got down underneath the sink, tools in hand, and began to dismember things.
“Can I hand you stuff?”
“Sure.”
They set up an assembly line, where he asked for things, and she handed them to him. When he was done, he would give it back, and she would put it on the table.
Things felt not quite so fraught. And it was easy for her to forget that earlier today had gone so horribly wrong.
“Come down here,” he said.
She started. “What?”
“I want to show you something.”
Slowly, cautiously, she knelt down beside him. It wasn’t him she was afraid of. It was herself. He wasn’t the one who knew why earlier was such a disaster, and he probably didn’t even...well, she hadn’t stayed to find out if he’d even been leaning in toward her. It was all in her head, that was the thing. So she resolutely got down next to him and made a valiant attempt at not breathing the same air, since that had caused her some serious problems earlier.
“What are you showing me?”
“I’m going to have you fit the pipe.”
“Oh...okay.”
He handed her a wrench. “Lean in and tighten it right here.”
She leaned in and she couldn’t help but breathe. And when she did...
When she did, she was overwhelmed by him.
Why did he have to smell so good? Why was he so compelling? She looked at the square line of his jaw, the straight blade of his nose. The intensity in those eyes. Those eyes that had always been so fascinating to her.
It had been a crush but now it couldn’t be.
It couldn’t be.
It couldn’t be.
She still couldn’t breathe.
She looked down. But then... She could feel him looking at her, and she couldn’t keep herself from looking back.
And when she did, he was so close. His eyes were so intent on hers. She had run away earlier. And she had been smart to do that. She had needed to do that.
She should run. She should run. She should move away. Because this was wrong. And it was crazy. She was crazy.
And for some reason—anger, rebellion against what she was feeling—she didn’t run. Instead, she leaned forward.
Instead, she closed the distance between them.
She was going to prove, once and for all, that she did not want him.
This would disgust her.
It would burn all those feelings to the ground.
And for the first time in her life, Cricket’s lips touched another person’s.
Because she was sure she’d find that once she kissed him, once she took the mystery out of it all she’d be disgusted. She had to be, right? Because surely, surely, nature would take care of this and she’d recoil in horror when their mouths met.
As soon as her lips touched his, though, she knew she was wrong.
It was like a flash bomb had gone off inside of her stomach.
And Cricket ignited.
He moved, large, rough hands cupping her face, holding her steady as he consumed her. His whiskers were rough, his mouth hot. He smelled like heaven.
She was shaking. Guilt warred with desire as her mind went blank of everything. Of what she should be doing. Of who he was. Who she was. And what she suspected. It was all gone. There was nothing left but the intense sensation of being touched by him, kissed by him.
How had this happened?
How had she... How had she ended up desiring him?
You don’t know? As if it hasn’t been halfway to a crush all this time?
She’d been fascinated by him but she’d never called it that. She’d been interested in him, intrigued by him, but she’d never...
And then she’d found out about their parents and...and...she’d thought what she’d been feeling was something else.
She didn’t know anything.
She’d moved to this ranch convinced that she was finally figuring things out. Finally making a move toward having a life that she wanted. But here she was, drowning in confusion. Drowning in desire. A desire she had no business feeling. Not at all. Here she was, making the biggest mess of everything that she could possibly make.
She was less certain now than she’d been before. Less of anything, less of everything. And more too.
Jackson Cooper. This is Jackson Cooper.
And he’s probably your half brother.
She jerked herself away from him, gasping. “No.”
“Cricket, it’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to run away.”
“No,” she said. “I might.”
“You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
“It’s not you I’m afraid of.”
“What?”
“It’s me,” she said. And much to her horror, tears sprang to her eyes. And they started to fall before she could even consider holding them back. Cricket didn’t cry. And here she was, weeping like an inconsolable child in front of Jackson. He must think she was insane. She thought she was insane.
“What is it?”
“It’s us,” she said. “Jackson,” she said. “I think you might be my brother.”
Six
Jackson was on his feet and halfway across the room as soon as that last word came out of Cricket’s mouth.
He didn’t know what the hell she was on, but she was wrong.
He knew that down to his soul.
He had a sister. He knew what that felt like. This did not feel brotherly at all. Not in the least. Absolutely nothing about what he felt for Cricket could fall under the heading of familial. She was a beguiling little minx who had essentially been a source of irritation for him for the last several years, and then had turned into a wholly irritating, and far too attractive, woman.
Then she’d kissed him. And now she was telling him that she thought she was his sister.
“You better explain yourself, and quick.”
“I just... I found out something about our parents. My mother and your father... They used to be... Did you ever wonder why your father hated mine so much? I mean, beyond the fact that James is a real piece of work, there had to be something else. And I knew there had to be. Well, my mother started talking about it more. And since she and my father got divorced... Well, she told us. She told us that she used to be with your father. She was in love with him, but he was poor, and she chose to marry James instead. Why am I so much younger than my sisters? It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t fit with them. I fit with you.”
“Cricket,” he said. “You are not my sister.”
“I pretty much have to be,” she said.
“You pretty much don’t,” he said. “There is no way, no way in hell, that you could possibly be my sister.”
“Why not? I think it makes plenty of sense. Seems to me that it’s reasonable enough.”
“There is nothing reasonable about any of this.”
“I have always...thought that I didn’t fit. And I think this is why.”
“So why did you psychotically decide to kiss me?”
“To prove it would be gross!”
The way his blood was burning through his veins made a mockery of that stateme
nt. He just stared at her.
“Hey,” she groused. “You almost kissed me earlier. Why do you think I ran away? It’s wrong, Jackson. And I was just trying to make it right and now I messed it all up!”
“Get in the truck.”
“What?” she squeaked.
“Get in the truck. There’s one person who can settle this.”
“I mean,” she said, using that same arch, certain tone she’d used many times she’d been certain, but wrong, in the time he’d known her, “there are DNA tests that can settle it. Many men in labs could settle it...”
“We’re talking to my father.”
“Oh...”
“I’m going to have him tell you, once and for all, you couldn’t be his daughter.”
“I...”
“Did you talk to your mother?” he asked.
“I... No. I didn’t ask her directly. But you have to understand that she... It took her so long to tell me any of the specifics about her life. About her relationship with your dad. We’re not really all that close. And I just didn’t... Talking to her won’t mean a lot to me. I won’t believe that it’s true.”
“I’m sure that if you told her you were considering jumping my bones, she might give you the straight answer.”
“Don’t say that. Anyway, I never said I wanted to do that. I just kissed you.”
“You’re not in high school, Cricket, when does it end with just a kiss?”
“Well.” She didn’t know what to say to that, and it was clear. And he was being mean, but he...
Hell. His father had cheated on his mother...
Would it really surprise you?
He didn’t think Cricket was his sister. End of story. He knew too much about women and chemistry to think it, even for a moment.
His certainty in his libido was sound.
His certainty in his father? Less so. And even though he knew Cricket had the wrong end of the stick here, he was worried that one piece of it might be true.
He had enough of a hard time with his old man without having to believe he’d been unfaithful to his mother.
“Get in the truck,” he said. “I’m not repeating myself again.”
They marched out to the truck, and he jerked the passenger side door open for her.
