by Julie Benson
His smile evaporated. “I told you I wasn’t interested.”
“Since I flew here from Los Angeles to talk to you, it would only be polite for you to hear me out.”
“I didn’t ask you to come. That gets me off the hook.”
He turned and stalked off toward the barn, Maggie chasing after him. She smiled. There was nothing better than walking behind a man with an exquisite butt in a pair of jeans.
“I brought pictures of this season’s bachelorettes.”
Griffin stopped at the barn door and faced her. “Lady, can’t you take a hint?”
She held out the file. “Look at the women’s pictures.”
“What part of I’m not interested is hard for you to understand?”
“I understand it. I just don’t accept it.”
He shook his head. “If I look at the pictures will you leave me alone?”
“Absolutely.” She resisted the urge to shove the folder into his hand, and instead held it out.
He took the folder and then reached for the barn door. Wood groaned and hinges squeaked as he tugged it open. They stepped inside. “If you have hay fever you should head out now.”
He wouldn’t get rid of her that easily. Little did he know that a girl with three older brothers learned persistence as a survival skill. “Hay doesn’t bother me.”
Griffin turned on the lights. Next, he pulled out the photos and flipped through them. Maggie shoved her hands into her pants pockets and crossed her fingers.
She bit her lip. No smile. No twinkling eyes. Where was his excitement? From his deadpan expression, she’d guess he was reviewing his tax return rather than photos of beautiful women. How could the sight of that many gorgeous females fail to elicit at least a grin?
“You’re right, the women are attractive, but I’m still not interested.” He handed the file back to Maggie, but she refused to accept it.
“Oh. Wait a minute. Are you gay?”
He stiffened, carefully set the folder on a stool and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What makes you ask that?”
“Most red-blooded heterosexual men show some interest when they look at pictures of stunning women, but you didn’t.”
“You think I’m gay because I didn’t get all hot and bothered looking at those photos?”
Griffin stepped closer until they stood inches apart. His sparkling gaze pinned her. When he glanced at her mouth, all coherent thought deserted her. He leaned forward as if he might kiss her, sending her body into overdrive.
Reality check, Maggie. You’re not his type.
He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his hard form, leaving her dazed. She couldn’t breathe. His mouth moved toward hers.
He’s going to kiss me.
I can’t let him kiss me.
Why would he kiss me?
She jumped backward. Never graceful at the best of times, their feet tangled and she lost her balance. Her rear end hit the cement floor hard, with a decidedly unfeminine thud.
“I bet you’re used to women falling at your feet all the time,” she quipped in an attempt to ease her embarrassment.
“Not like this.” Griffin held out his hand, but she shook off his offer.
As she stood, she resisted the urge to rub her sore backside. That fall would leave her with a nice bruise.
“I am not gay.”
“I believe you.” Maggie looked away from Griffin’s piercing gaze to regroup. Once in control again, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You didn’t read the bios on the other side of the photos.”
“You said you’d leave me alone if I looked at the pictures.”
No bachelor meant no show. No show meant no job and no money, which meant she’d have to put her dreams of motherhood on hold.
“I know I did, but you don’t understand how great this opportunity is. The television exposure will be phenomenal. It could bring in a lot of business to the ranch, and who knows what other opportunities. Is there somewhere we can go to talk more?”
“You’re as persistent as the horseflies around here.”
“You might as well hear me out, because I’m not going away until you do.”
He stalked across the barn, dismissing her. “I need to get to work.”
Again she trailed after him as he strolled through the barn and stepped inside the last stall. A minute later he came out, a hay bale in his arms. His cotton shirt stretched tight across his chest. His biceps flexed and bulged. Maggie’s mouth went dry. If Griffin decided to go into politics he’d win by a landslide on the women’s votes alone, and he wouldn’t have to say a word.
After dumping the bale on the cement floor, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out wire cutters, drawing her attention to his rear end again. The faded denim emphasized his rock-hard thighs, and the air around her grew thin. The temperature in the barn was sweltering.
He snipped the twine and pulled off a hunk of hay. Bits of golden dust swirled in the air, the musty smell tickling her nose.
“I can’t take time off work. My answer is still no.” His earthy male scent, mixed with the fragrant hay, wafted over her as he strode into the next stall.
“Did I mention we’ll pay you three thousand dollars an episode?”
This time when he exited the stall, his eyes gleamed with interest. “You should’ve told me that first.”
Men went on her show for one of three reasons—the money, the gorgeous women or the exposure. She and Samantha were wrong. Neither the women nor the publicity interested Griffin. Money was the key.
“How many episodes are we talking about?” He pulled off another chunk of hay and walked into the next stall. Maggie followed.
“Ten. That’s three thousand an episode for ten weeks. Thirty thousand dollars. That’s what you’d be paid in compensation for taking two and a half months off work.”
Inside the stall, the cinnamon-colored mare’s ears perked up at Griffin’s entrance, and the magnificent animal whinnied. “I know, girl. I’m running late and you’re a little ticked with me. It’s not my fault.” He nodded toward Maggie. “Talk to her. She’s slowed me down this morning.”
Maggie wanted to laugh. He had to be kidding. Griffin possessed the air of a man who took his sweet time and figured the world would wait for him.
Looking at the animal, she said, “My apologies. I’m sure it’s my fault Griffin’s tardy this morning.”
“On the rare occasion I’m running late, she forgives me because of my sparkling personality. Don’t you, pretty lady?”
Maggie bet the horse wasn’t the only female who ignored his tardiness.
“Sorry. I’ve got to call you on that one. I’m guessing that’s your fatal flaw.”
His eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe what she’d said. Women probably overlooked his little white lies all the time.
“You’re wrong. My mother was a stickler for punctuality and drilled that trait into me.”
“Then what is your fatal flaw?”
He smiled, revealing his killer dimples. “What makes you think I have one?”
Maggie paused to collect her thoughts. She could barely see straight, much less talk with him looking at her. She’d have to get over that little problem when they started filming.
A man like Griffin wouldn’t give you a second look.
True, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the scenery.
“Are you telling me you’re perfect?”
Griffin sauntered across the stall, the horse trailing after him. As he dumped the hay in the trough attached to the far wall, he said, “That’s what my mom says.”
“That doesn’t count. It’s a law that mothers have to say that about their kids.” Maggie smiled. “Even mine cuts me slack for my overly competitive nature. What if I asked your brother?”
For the briefest second, Griffin’s eyes narrowed. “Rory would tell you I’m too laid-back, but with him you have to factor in the whole sibling rivalry thing, so
you can’t trust his opinion.”
Something told her that for Griffin this was more than your average sibling rivalry. “I have three older brothers. They can be a pain and definitely are judgmental.”
“Your brothers gave you a hard time?”
“Constantly and mercilessly.”
As Maggie stared into Griffin’s eyes she couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about. She thought for a minute. That’s right. They’d been talking about his fatal flaw. Oh, this cowboy was good at getting around uncomfortable questions.
He lifted the remaining hay. Strong arm muscles rippled under his shirt as he strolled out of the stall. Sweat glistened on his bronzed skin. Yup, God had done some of his best work with this man.
“What if I agree to be the bachelor on your show? What happens next?”
“First of all, I want to make sure we’re clear on one thing. You do realize the purpose of our show is to find you a wife, right?”
Chapter Two
Every good deal had a catch, and this show’s was a doozy. But for thirty grand, Griffin would do pretty much anything to help his mom, as long as it was legal.
Times were tight financially. The sagging economy had hit Twin Creeks hard. Tourism was down, causing a dip in their revenue from horseback-riding tours. People had less disposable cash, which meant horse sales were down. Then there was his mom’s experimental cancer treatment, not covered by insurance, which put a huge strain on the family finances, and they’d learned she needed another round.
Rory had done his part, taking a modeling job with Devlin Designs—a huge sacrifice, considering his camera shyness. Griffin tried to find extra work as a hired hand, but every ranch in the area was experiencing similar trouble, and just hoped to keep the hands they had. And ranch work was the only job Griffin was qualified for other than flipping burgers, neither of which would get him the kind of money he needed to pay for his mom’s latest round of treatments.
Now the perfect opportunity had landed at his door. What could be better than getting paid to date pretty women? Talk about a dream job. All he had to do was find a way to avoid proposing at the end of the season, and if he couldn’t, no big deal. No one would be surprised when a reality-show relationship failed.
As he stared at the plain woman in front of him, he mulled over her proposition. She’d pulled her long brown hair away from her face into a big ponytail, which only made her angular features sharper. Why did women wear their hair like that? No female past high school should wear her hair back unless she was working out.
If there was an opposite of his type, Maggie was the shining example. While he liked ’em tall, she damn near looked him in the eye. Given the pants and long, shapeless sweater she wore, who knew what her figure was like? He went for females who possessed great assets, and dressed to show them off.
On top of that, he’d pegged her as a good girl. The kind who expected a ring after dating six months. The kind he crossed the street to avoid.
“Sure. I know the goal is to get the bachelor married.” Just because that was the show’s intention didn’t mean he had to succumb. There were always gray areas. He just had to find one.
Griffin had always loved women. Even as a child he’d run past his grandfather to reach his grandmother first. But that didn’t mean he wanted to walk down the aisle anytime soon. In fact, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to make that trek.
“I have a contract in the car. Once you’ve signed—”
“Hold on. I have some questions, such as where’s the show filmed?”
Maggie, her eyes shining with enthusiasm, said, “This season we’re filming in Las Vegas. Normally, the first thing we have our bachelor do is fill out a questionnaire and meet with our marriage counselor. Then we select ten bachelorettes ideally suited for him.”
“What do you mean, normally?”
“We’ve already signed contracts with this season’s bachelorettes.”
“Because?” he prodded. The woman had talked his ear off, and now she went quiet?
“Our scheduled bachelor backed out at the last minute.”
“Does he know something I don’t?” Griffin asked as he tossed a hunk of hay in Sugar’s trough.
“He was a retired pro football player who returned to the game. We picked out bachelorettes for him. Of course, there’s a possibility some of the women will leave when they learn we have a new man.”
“You’re saying they’ll think I’m a scrub replacement?”
Maggie gasped. Embarrassment flamed across her cheeks. “I’m not saying that at all. I apologize for my poor choice of words. No woman would see you that way.”
He couldn’t keep from grinning. “I had you worried, didn’t I?”
She laughed, but not one of those dainty, practiced, feminine giggles. Joy rang out in her full, honest laughter, and her face lit up.
“That was a good one. You really had me going.”
“You’d think with three older brothers you wouldn’t be so gullible,” Griffin retorted.
She crossed her arms over her chest again. “In my defense, I’m in work mode right now. Believe it or not, very few people tease me when I’m discussing business. Are you always so vexing?”
“Pretty much.”
Maggie’s melodic laughter reverberated through the barn once more, but Griffin sobered. An athlete. That meant they’d probably picked women who liked sports and the outdoors. Ones who’d be comfortable on a ranch. Not exactly what he wanted.
“You want me to pick a wife from women you selected for another man?” he asked, already slipping into the charade. Wouldn’t that be what a man who really wanted to find a wife would say?
“You’re not going to get me again.”
“This time I’m serious.”
“Sorry. The altitude must be messing up my radar.” Maggie frowned and tucked a stray brown curl that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. “I think you’ll be happy with the women we’ve selected, and if for whatever reason any of the bachelorettes choose to not continue with the show, the new candidates will be selected specifically for you.”
“What if I’m not satisfied? After all, my happiness isn’t your main concern. You’ve got to pick candidates who’ll make good TV.” His main concern was avoiding marriage, while getting the thirty grand. He ran his hand along Sugar’s expanding belly, and her foal moved under his palm. The horse swung her head toward him. “I know, girl, you’re ready for this baby to be here, aren’t you?”
“Watching a foal coming into the world must be such a miracle,” Maggie said.
“Changing the subject won’t work. What happens if I’m not happy with who you’ve picked?”
“Out of ten women, you really think you might not like any of them? Come on. No man can be that particular.”
She had no idea how picky he was about to become.
“We’re talking about finding me a wife. I need to be sure I can spend the rest of my life with one of these ladies.” He almost smiled at how easily he played the game, telling Maggie what she wanted to hear without technically lying. He’d find someone to spend his life with about the same time he decided to work a nine-to-five desk job.
“We’ve never had a bachelor unhappy with our choices before.”
“When I’ve studied the bios, if I don’t like what I see, I want veto power.”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “Veto power? Tell me you’re not a control freak.”
“Like I said, I’m pretty laid-back, but I’m not big on trusting someone I just met with something this important.”
Maggie bit her lip, and her leaf-green eyes focused on him. He froze. The intensity in her gaze surprised and intrigued him. Such fire. If it weren’t for her gorgeous eyes, he’d call her plain, but they changed everything.
A woman with that much heat flashing in her eyes, but dressed in pants two sizes too big and a baggy cardigan, made Griffin wonder what she wanted to hide and why.
“If we
break the bachelorettes’ contracts we still have to pay them. That would cost the show money. But more importantly, recasting would take time we don’t have. We’re scheduled to start shooting in two weeks.”
“You could always find another bachelor. But if you do, it’s your loss.”
He shot her the smile he’d used with his high school teachers whenever he asked for an assignment extension. It hadn’t failed him yet.
“It seems unreasonable for you to have complete veto power.”
When faced with her resistance, he paused to calculate his next move. He wanted to be able to make changes in case there weren’t enough career-minded types. The last thing he wanted was ten women looking for a man to save them from whatever mess they’d made of their lives, financially or otherwise.
Still smiling, he stepped toward Maggie. Their gazes locked. He lowered his voice and whispered, “I’m not asking for much. Surely you can give me this.”
A smile spread across her face. Her eyes twinkled. He had her.
“Nice try turning on the charm, but this is a business deal, and that’s how I’m treating it.”
Now that was a curve he hadn’t expected. Where had he gone wrong? Women worked hard to please him, and rarely gave him grief.
“Then we’re at a standoff.”
“I’ll give you two vetoes,” Maggie countered.
“Six.”
“Out of ten women? Forget it. Three. That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.”
He thought about countering with five, but the iron resolve on her face, the confidence in her eyes, along with her braced stance, told him she wouldn’t budge. “Deal. I want it added to the contract.”
He hadn’t won, but on the upside, he hadn’t lost, either.
“I have to run it by my boss and Legal, but I think they’ll go for it. Once they approve the change, I’ll have them email me a new contract. Is there anything else you need to know before you sign?”
How do I avoid proposing on the last show? No, he didn’t need advice. He’d ended enough relationships to have a stockpile of strategies.
“After the women are selected, do I start dating?”
