by Piper Rayne
“I like it. Let’s do this.”
“Yeah?” The house itself didn’t need much work, so the bulk of her job would be the cottages. She wandered back inside and took in the soaring ceilings, antler chandeliers, log walls, and river stone hearths. “You’ll just keep this as your main residence.”
“I want to modernize it. Get rid of the antler shit and all the pine paneling.”
“Really?” Oh, hell, yes. This was turning into her dream job. “You’ve just bought this huge ranch, and now we’re turning a simple renovation into a big project. I mean, the cottages alone…”
“I’m in. All the way.”
With her thoughts consumed with costs, she kept her mouth shut. Not my business.
“Consider me the anchor investor.” He came up beside her. “I’m sure the guys will come in for the second stage.”
Lord, did he read her well. “That’s perfect. This is going to be fun.”
“I want you to design it just like your apartment in the city.”
“You mean the one Kristina’s now living in?” Oh, hey, it didn’t even hurt to say it. Not when she was standing on thousands of acres of prime ranching land in Wyoming.
“Yeah, that one. That place is fucking awesome. I don’t know where you found half that shit.”
“That’s the fun part, the exploring.”
He grinned. “There it is.”
“There what is?”
“My Quinn. The one who stole my heart six years ago.”
The smile fell off her face. “What?” She had to have misheard him. She was just disoriented from all the wild twists and turns her life had recently taken. First, her husband, the man she thought she’d grow old with, gets another woman pregnant. Then, she’s living with an unhygienic roommate.
And now I’m standing in Calamity with Matteo Candella who just bought a multi-million-dollar ranch.
To kickstart my career.
“You don’t…” She let out an uncomfortable laugh. “You didn’t hire me because you have…feelings for me?”
“I’m hiring you because I need someone with your skill set, and I trust you. Does it help that I’m halfway in love with you and want you as the mother of my children?” He flashed her that big, dimpled grin that melted panties and caused people to doubletake so hard they got whiplash. “But buying this ranch…” He took in the expansive, well-appointed room. “Is just good business.”
Quinn was stunned. This man—this gorgeous, elite athlete—was turning out to be the craziest swerve of all. “Okay, I’m blown away right now, so forgive what comes out of my mouth, but just so we’re clear…” She blew out a breath. “I’m going to take this job because it’s literally my dream come true. Not only do I get to come back to Calamity, but I get to launch my business in a way that’s beyond my wildest dreams.”
She gentled her tone because the last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt or mislead him. “But you have to know that Bradley did much more than dump me.” How did she explain what she hadn’t yet come to terms with? “I’m not the woman you met six years ago. Not by a longshot. That woman trusted with an open heart. This one, the one standing here right now, is broken. I’m damaged in a way I’m not sure there’s any coming back from.” She came close enough to look into those dark, soulful eyes, to breathe in his clean, masculine scent, and her heart twisted with regret. She knew what she was giving up—and it killed her to do it. “You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever known, and you deserve a woman with an open heart.” She touched his arm. “And that’s just not me.”
You bet your ass Matteo had lied about buying a ranch.
His timing that day in the city had been unbelievable, driving up at the exact moment Quinn had slammed into her ex and discovered the pregnant mistress.
Her expression, the devastation, would be forever imprinted on his brain.
He’d almost driven onto the sidewalk to get to her, to save her.
But she’d handled it on her own, hadn’t she? I’m not fucking someone else’s husband, and I’m living life on my own terms, so I call that a win.
The woman’s a fucking badass.
And the lie had been worth it to see Quinn’s blue eyes light up with hope. Also, he’d corrected it the very next day. The moment his wheels had touched down on the tarmac in Calamity, he’d driven straight to a realtor.
And now, five weeks later, at thirty-three thousand feet above Indiana, he had the woman of his dreams passed out beside him in First Class, her legs pulled up, her head smashed into his ribcage. It gave him a profound sense of rightness.
She’s mine.
He’d fallen for her the moment his agent had introduced his wife. Because Quinn Ellison was unlike anyone he’d ever met. She had no airs, didn’t try to be anything other than who she was—a small town girl who loved and supported her husband, liked to go exploring in the city, and had a passion for design.
Her natural blonde hair spilled all over his shirt, his jeans, and he fucking loved it. Wanted to run his fingers through it. She never styled it, so it always just fell loose and slightly wavy down her back. He’d grown obsessed with it over the years, wondering if it felt as soft as it looked, imagined wrapping it around his fist.
Not that he’d ever have acted on it. Hell, no.
She’d been happily married.
There was just something about her spirit, so positive and open, caring and nurturing. A strong woman who knew her own mind, who didn’t care about trends, didn’t try to fit in with anyone else’s expectations.
He chuckled when he remembered that day three weeks ago, when he’d taken her to the ranch for the first time, and she’d figured out that he’d bought it for her. She’d given him this whole, long speech about how he deserved someone better.
Does she realize I’m an All-American, All-Pro athlete who comes from nothing? I’m the most competitive motherfucker on the planet, and she threw down a challenge I’m going to win.
Nah, but seriously, he got it. She wasn’t ready. He didn’t blame her. Still, he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d wait as long as it took for her to get over what her ex had done.
Unable to resist, he touched a lock of that pretty hair and rubbed it between two fingers. It was exactly as silky and soft as he’d imagined, and one day he’d have it brushing his chest as she rode him. Fuck, but he wanted her. He wanted everything with this woman.
Quinn stirred. Blinking, her long lashes rested like delicate fans against her rosy cheeks. And then she stiffened and sat up in a rush. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she said. “Oh, my God. I slept on you. I’m so sorry.”
“No worries.”
Disoriented, she set her feet on the floor. “How long was I out?”
“About two hours.”
“Two…that’s practically the whole flight.” She wiped under her eyes. “I’m a horrible travel companion.”
“You’re fine.”
“I’ve been sleeping so much lately. It’s like I’m catching up on all the hours I lost during my divorce nightmare.” She smiled at him. “I think…I feel safe, you know? Like I’m home, and I can finally relax.”
Pride swelled, confirming yet again his decision to buy that ridiculous property. “It’s been tough on you. I get it.”
“The first two months I was in a total fog. I’d break out crying at random times. Literally, I’d have to leave my desk and go to the bathroom to pull myself together. But after that, I was just going through the motions, working long hours, living with a stranger. She’s not loud or anything, but her dog is wild. He steals things—slippers, gloves, whatever he can chew in hiding—so she locks him up in her room at night. But he wants to get out—badly—so he whines and scratches the door. I haven’t slept through the night in a long time.”
“I’m glad you’re catching up now.” He lifted a hand to get the flight attendant’s attention, making a drinking motion with his hand. She nodded.
“There’s just something about Cal
amity, you know?” Quinn said.
“I’ve only ever stayed at camp with a bunch of guys, so yeah, now that I’m on the ranch, I get it. It’s just one roommate snoring instead of thirty.”
“I don’t snore.” Laughing, her eyes went wide. “Do I?” She sat up straighter. “Oh. God, do I snore?”
“Our bedrooms are on different floors. I have no idea. I was joking. But seriously, it’s the mountain air, the quiet. It’s peaceful.”
“It’s so peaceful, but I’m finally feeling it in here.” Pressing a hand to her chest, she gazed up at him with that smile that slayed. “Thank you for arranging this trip. I’m excited.”
It didn’t take much to make this woman happy, and he wanted to be the lucky man who got to do it the rest of her life. “Well, I don’t want to go through a dozen showrooms, so I figured we could just knock it out at the Design Expo.” Besides, the timing had been right.
The flight attendant brought them each a bottle of water. “Here you go.”
He cracked his open. “Thank you.”
The woman smiled and headed back to the galley.
“You’re such a sweetheart.” Quinn drank a quarter of hers in one go. “Thank you.” Lowering the bottle, she said, “I just want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I feel like I’m coming back to myself.”
“Glad to hear it.” Nothing could make him happier than for her to feel good about herself again. “Which brings up a question. How come you didn’t accept help from Brad—when you absolutely earned it—but you’re accepting it from me?” He’d half expected her to storm away the moment she’d figured out he’d lied about his friends going in on a ranch with him.
Instead, she’d surprised the hell out of him by lighting up like a Christmas tree.
When he’d said he was halfway in love with her…that was his second lie.
He was all the way in love.
“You know, I had a choice to make. I could’ve hired an attorney, and I could’ve been embroiled in a bitter and angry divorce, fighting Bradley for half of our net worth, or I could walk away and focus on my new reality. I’m a smart, resourceful, creative woman, so I chose to move forward and build my future on my own terms.”
“If it helps at all, I believe he loved you. At least in the only way a guy like him can.”
“And what way is that?”
“Just my take, but he liked to badmouth his parents, talk about how he’d never become like them. But I think he was afraid he couldn’t become like them.”
“You know, it’s funny you say that, because he was the only one in his family to choose a different path.”
“And he failed. He didn’t become a Major League ball player, and he didn’t know if he’d make it as an agent. But once he started making the money, he—”
“Became his parents. The house in the Hamptons, the sense of entitlement, the affair.”
“And if she hadn’t become pregnant, he might never have left you.”
“He’s already become his dad.” She shook her head. “I never understood why his mom stayed married. Her husband’s affairs ruined her, just like Bradley ruined me.”
“No, he didn’t. He hurt you. He betrayed you. But you’re still Quinn Ellison. You’re still the same woman who dreamed of living on a ranch, who gets excited just by walking into a store that sells pretty wallpaper. You’re still the same woman who loves making other people happy. And if you let that fucker take away even one square inch of the landscape that’s you, you’re doing yourself and the world a tremendous injustice.”
Shifting in his seat, he framed her face with his hands, surprised when she let him, when she gazed up at him with those beautiful blue eyes. “You couldn’t see this coming because his character had never been tested before. So, Quinn, you’re not broken. Your judgment’s fine. And, even if you do get burned again, nothing will ever destroy you, break you, or ruin you. Because you’re the strongest woman I know. You’re perfect, and if you don’t let him fuck things up for you, you’re going to live every single one of your dreams.”
Hopefully, with me at your side.
Chapter Three
Being with Matteo made her feel strong, sexy, vibrant…beautiful.
It was intoxicating.
And it made her want to shed her bitterness and become the woman he imagined her to be. Not some distant day in the future. But right now.
After an exhausting day at the Design Expo in Chicago, they’d come back to the hotel and collapsed in a booth in the lobby restaurant.
Now, finished with dinner, he pushed his plate away. “What a crazy day.”
“Can I get you two anything else?” the waiter asked. “A nightcap? We’re known for our White Russians.”
“I’ll pass,” Matteo said. “Just the check, please.”
The young man set the leather billfold down. “Have a great night.”
As Matteo signed the bill, she said, “You know you can drink around me, right?”
He batted a hand dismissively. “When it comes to booze, I can take it or leave it.”
It was common knowledge that she didn’t drink alcohol, but she never wanted people to feel uncomfortable around her. “Okay, but just so you know I don’t have a problem with people drinking or getting drunk. It’s just a personal thing. But, yeah, today was crazy. Expos are like that. The good thing is you figured out what you like.”
“When I said modern, I didn’t know it meant bleak.”
She laughed, remembering his reaction to a white, oval bathtub in an all-white bathroom, a silver mirror the only break in color and texture. They’d seen living rooms with nothing but a couch, a plant, and one modern art piece on a wall, the rest of the space empty and clean. In that one, he’d cocked his head and asked, “Should we come back when they’re finished setting up?”
“That bathtub felt like a punishment,” he said. “‘Go to your room, strip off your garments, and you’ll be dunked in the bleached water.’”
She laughed. “I can totally see that.” Turns out, he liked rustic with a modern edge.
So do I.
This is going to be so much fun.
“It helps that we’re on the same page.” He reached for his water goblet, idly rubbing the condensation with a thumb. “Because I won’t be around much longer.” His gaze flicked up and caught hers, as though checking her reaction.
Well, she wasn’t happy about it. She’d loved every minute with him these past three weeks. Living together in the ranch house, they’d take turns cooking, spend time sitting side by side on the couch, laptop perched on his knees as they scrolled design sites for ideas. They hiked every day, laughed all the time. After dinner, they’d sit on the patio and watch the spectacle of lights in a sky that turned from robin’s egg blue to twilight purple to black with a dazzling array of twinkling stars.
She’d had such a great time, she’d forgotten he’d leave for training camp in July, and she wouldn’t see him again until February.
She would miss him fiercely.
“You mind if I ask why you don’t drink?” he asked.
“Not at all. When I was a kid, my parents had totally different lives. My dad worked in a bank, and my mom was a secretary at our school. They were both miserable, and they drank too much. They weren’t falling down drunks or anything, but I didn’t like it. It scared me. They were mean and sad. It was just a really uncomfortable home life back then.”
“When did your mom become a fly-fishing guide?”
“I was eleven. Actually, I remember the exact day.” She smiled at the memory. “I was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of milk and a bag of peanut butter pretzels, and my mom walked in the door two hours earlier than usual. I was freaking out. I wasn’t allowed to eat snacks, and she never came home early. But she didn’t even notice. She dumps her purse on the table and goes, ‘I quit. I’m done.’ Of course, the only thing on my mind at the time was hiding the pretzels.”
“I can rela
te to that. I’ve got six brothers and sisters, and it was always a fight for the junk food. On the rare occasion my parents brought something home—chips, pretzels, cookies—I’d nab a few and hide them in my hoodie pockets.” He tipped his chin. “So that’s it? She just decided there and then?”
“Oh, it was quite a scene. My dad flipped out when she told him. They had four kids, and they needed her income for college. And my mom was all, ‘Fuck it. Let ‘em get student loans like the rest of the world. I’m not selling my soul one more day.’ My dad was pissed. ‘What’re you going to do? Sit around and watch reality TV?’ And she gets all huffy and says, ‘I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do.’”
“That went over well.”
“My dad lost it. ‘And what do you want to do, Erin?’ And in this high and mighty tone, she goes, “Maybe I’ll go fly fishing every damn day.’ And I swear to God they looked at each other, and the room went dead quiet. I will never forget seeing my older brother, Caleb, standing in the doorway, watching this whole fight play out. We had no idea what was going to happen—were they going to divorce? Would my mom give in and get her job back? And then all of a sudden, my parents burst out laughing—like the maniacal kind—and my dad goes, ‘You’re going to be a fly-fishing guide.’ And my mom nods and says, ‘I’m going to be a fly-fishing guide.’ Because that’s literally what they did with their weekends and vacations—they were outside hiking, fishing, rafting. That was the whole point of living in Calamity, Wyoming.”
“Great story. I love it. So, your dad quit, too?”
“Not right away. He stuck it out at the bank for another year, but then he got a job at an outfitter in town. He leads white water rafting expeditions.”
They shared a knowing look. “So, they’ll come work for me once I get my eco-tourism ranch going?”
