Colton's Ranch Refuge

by Beth Cornelison

  Piper gasped and rocked forward in her seat. “No way!”

  “What?” Gunnar and Sawyer asked at the same time.

  The teenager pointed to the small cluster of people standing near the front door of the house, talking to their brother Derek. “See the woman in the green dress? The one with short blond hair?”

  Gunnar spotted the woman in question. In a purely visceral reaction to the lady’s feminine curves, a flash of heat swamped him, and his body hummed with lust. Yeowsa.

  “What about her?” Sawyer asked.

  “Don’t you recognize her? That’s Violet Chastain!”

  Gunnar rolled up his palm. “Never heard of her.”

  Sawyer opened his door and jumped out, while Piper goggled at Gunnar. “Are you kidding? She was nominated for an Oscar this year for The Journey Home. People magazine voted her one of their most beautiful people this year. She’s in town to film that new movie called Wrongfully Accused.”

  Gunnar cut the engine and stared through the window at the curvy blonde. “Doesn’t ring a bell.” But he had to agree with the staff of People magazine. Violet Chastain was a stunner.

  “Geez, what rock have you been living under?”

  Gunnar cut his sister a dry look. “An Afghan rock, until six months ago.”

  Piper winced, looking contrite. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”

  “Don’t sweat it, kiddo. So I take it this Violet person is a big deal to the media?”

  “Oh, yeah. The biggest.” Piper turned her gaze to the gathering of people on the lawn and shook her head in wonder. “I can’t believe that Violet Chastain, the hottest star in Hollywood, is at my house!”

  Gunnar grunted and climbed out of the Suburban. “Yeah, and her huge-honking bus is blocking my driveway.”

  * * *

  The sound of car doors slamming pulled Violet’s attention from her director’s discussion with the Double C’s owner about the scenes the production crew wanted to film at the spacious ranch.

  “Well, there’s some of the family now,” Dr. Derek Colton said. The handsome African American nodded toward the newly arrived SUV and grinned. “Before I sign off on this deal, I’d like their opinions. This is their home, too.”

  Violet turned to greet Derek’s family, and her practiced smile faltered for a moment. The teenage girl crossing the yard was as fair featured as Derek was dark, and Violet blinked her surprise at the incongruity.

  The doctor chuckled. “I see your surprise. They’re my adopted brothers and sister. All of the Colton children were adopted, so we’re something of an eclectic mix.”

  “So you are,” Violet said, putting her meet-the-public smile back in place as the lovely blonde girl and a sandy-haired boy of ten or eleven trotted up with eager grins.

  “OMG! You’re Violet Chastain!” the girl gushed. “I love your movies!”

  “Smooth, Piper,” the boy said. “Try not to drool on her.”

  Derek thumped his younger brother lightly on the shoulder, then introduced the kids to Violet and the rest of the assembled movie crew.

  “Nice to meet you, Sawyer, Piper.” Violet and the other crew members shook their hands.

  “You’re back early,” Derek called to the man who’d been driving the SUV.

  The brawny man bringing up the rear met her gaze, and an unexpected tremor stirred deep inside her. Whether her gut reaction was good or bad, Violet couldn’t say. Derek Colton’s brother could have been responding to a casting call for a nightclub bouncer...if the producers were looking for someone who oozed sex appeal along with his intimidating glower. He stalked toward the assembled group with his stubbled jaw set, his broad shoulders squared and his sexy lips pulled in a taut frown.

  Violet tore her gaze away from the brooding man and gave herself a mental shake. Why was she noticing the guy’s lips? She never paid attention to a man’s mouth unless he was playing opposite her in a scene and she was expected to kiss him. The odds that she’d ever kiss this scowling linebacker were so slim as to be laughable.

  As the dangerously good-looking Colton brother approached like a brewing tempest, Violet had to call on all her cool reserves, the practiced composure she drew from when facing a horde of merciless paparazzi, to not take a step back when he stormed up.

  “We decided to skip lunch,” he told his brother, then sent a suspicious look around the group. “What’s going on?”

  “Gunnar, this is Mac Gremble, the director of Wrongfully Accused, the movie that’s filming in the area. They’re scouting the ranch to use in a few scenes.”

  Mac shook the bouncer wannabe’s hand. Then Derek turned to her.

  “And I guess I don’t have to tell you who this is.”

  The older Colton brother’s hazel gaze slid to her. “Only because Piper just told me.” Though he offered his hand in greeting, he didn’t smile, and Violet’s mouth dried when his large fingers swallowed hers in a tight grip.

  She forced a polite smile. “Not a fan of the movies...Gunnar, is it?”

  “I just don’t follow Hollywood hype.” He dropped her hand and shoved his fingers in the pockets of his jeans. “That and I’ve been out of the country until about six months ago.”

  “Oh?” Violet tipped her head. “Where? Europe? Japan?”

  His gaze narrowed. “Afghanistan.” His tone was grave and held a note of challenge, as if he dared her to comment on his military status. Though startled by his gruff attitude, she opened her mouth to thank him for his service to the country but didn’t get the chance before he aimed a thumb at her bus. “That your behemoth?”

  Violet cut a quick glance to Mac and Dr. Colton, uncertain what to make of Gunnar’s rudeness. “It’s my dressing room when we’re on location and my—”

  “Well, your dressing room is blocking the road to my cabin. You’ll have to move it.”

  Violet took umbrage with his hostile tone and straightened her spine, lifted her chin. She refused to let him bully her without cause.

  “Gunnar,” Derek growled. “What’s your problem?”

  “No, no.” Violet raised a hand to intercede. “He’s right. My bus is blocking the driveway, and I’d be happy to have my driver move it.”

  Gunnar arched a dark eyebrow, his scowl fixed on her. “Good.” He pivoted to walk away.

  “If—”

  He stopped and faced her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

  Nervous energy pumped through her, the kind of jitters she used to get before taking the stage or filming a difficult scene. Pressing a hand to the flutter in her belly, she met Gunnar’s gaze with dredged up courage. “If you’ll ask me.” She paused to swallow. “Nicely.”

  Big brother Colton blinked his surprise and cocked his head as if uncertain he’d heard her correctly.

  Gunnar’s siblings chuckled, and Mac shifted his feet uneasily, probably worried about PR or something that Violet no longer cared about. Why should she care what the public thought of her if they gave so little disregard to her feelings, her needs? The speculation and insinuations that filled the media coverage after Adam’s death still stung, and the invasion of her privacy while she was grieving infuriated her.

  After glaring at her for a moment, Gunnar turned to Derek and huffed an impatient sigh. “When I got home in May, all I asked was that I be given privacy and quiet. Is it so much to ask that my home be a refuge while I decompress from the crap I had to deal with in Afghanistan?”

  Decompress? Violet found his choice of words intriguing. If Gunnar was still wound tight because of his war experiences, no wonder he was acting like such an ogre.

  “No, it’s not,” Derek returned, his expression calm.

  “Yet you’ve invited a horde of strangers to bring their cameras and lights and dressing rooms—” he cut a meaningful glance at Violet “—onto the ranch for who knows how long. Hardly my idea of rest or privacy, Derek.”

  “Which is why I’ve told Mr. Gremble that your cabin and the woods around it are off-limits. Any filming the
y do will be in and around the main house.” When Piper drew an excited breath, her eyes widening, Derek aimed a finger at her. “You have to promise to stay out of their way and respect the confidentiality agreement. You can’t tell anyone they are filming here. We don’t want the media or rubberneckers milling around here.”

  “I can’t even tell my friends?” Piper asked, aghast. “But—”

  “Not even your friends,” Derek said.

  “Especially not your friends,” Sawyer added. “Talk about gossip central. TMZ has nothing on Tiffany and Amber.”

  Piper glared at Sawyer. “Shut up, twerp.”

  “You shut up, Amazon.”

  Groaning, Derek scrubbed both hands over his face.

  Gunnar grabbed Sawyer by the back of the coat and pulled him away from Piper. “Both of you give it a rest. Why do you have to antagonize each other all the time? Sheesh.”

  Violet flashed a lopsided grin. “So...is this what I have to look forward to?”

  “I promise you they’re not always this bad,” Derek said.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean them.” Violet waved her hands in denial. “I meant when my boys get older.”

  “You have kids?” Gunnar asked in a tone that said he found it difficult to believe.

  Violet faced him again, bemused by his attitude. “Eighteen-month-old twins. They’re with their nanny...in my dressing room.”

  She shot him a look that dared him to comment on that fact.

  Gunnar sent her an annoyed look. “Your kids are here?”

  “Yes. In the bus, napping.”

  “With a nanny.”

  “Yeaaahhh,” she said drawing out the word, warily. “Where else would they be while I’m working?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe with their father? Or don’t you Hollywood types believe in raising your own children?” Gunnar crossed his arms over his chest and sent her a condescending look she itched to slap off his smug face.

  Violet gaped at him, too stunned to answer right away. The reference to Adam landed a punch in her stomach and sucked the air from her lungs.

  “Um, Gunnar...helloooo?” Piper said. “Sawyer and I have a nanny.”

  He shot his sister a quelling look. “That’s different.”

  “How?” Piper returned.

  “It just is.”

  Mac stepped into the breach, shouldering in between her and the loutish Colton. “Look, pal, I don’t know what your beef is, but if you—”

  Violet grabbed Mac’s sleeve, and shaking herself from her momentary daze, she shoved her director out of the way. Planting herself toe-to-toe with Gunnar, she met his gaze with a steely glare. Even standing as tall as she could, he dwarfed her by over a foot, but she refused to let his size or his gruff manner intimidate her. “My husband is dead, you oaf! Not that you’d know that since you don’t keep up with ‘Hollywood hype.’”

  She poked him in his broad, rock-hard chest. “And while I’m on location, I keep my children near me, in my dressing room, because there is nothing, nothing more important to me than my boys. I want to be a part of their lives and involved in raising them as much as possible with my filming schedule.” Fisting her hands at her sides, she raised up on her toes and stuck her face as close to his as she could. “Or don’t you military types believe in women having a career and earning an income to feed her family?”

  Around them no one moved, and the only sounds Violet could hear were the pounding pulse in her ears and her own angry breaths sawing from her lungs. Gunnar’s hazel eyes bore into hers, unflinching, piercing, until her belly quivered with that disturbing energy again.

  Finally he unfolded his arms and clapped slowly, mockingly. “Bravo, Ms. Chastain. You are very convincing as the offended and protective young mother. Oscar-worthy performance, for sure.”

  Violet knocked his hands out of the way and crowded so close to him that her body bumped his muscled torso and sparks skittered through her veins. “You’re an ass, Gunnar Colton.”

  He simply lifted a corner of his mouth in an aggravating grin and said in a cloyingly sweet tone, “Thanks, Tinkerbell. Now would you pretty please move your oversize dressing room from my driveway, so I can get to my cabin?”

  Tinkerbell?

  Violet held her ground, chewing the inside of her cheek and deciding her best response. This close to him, his body heat and pine scent surrounded her, teasing her senses, her ability to think going haywire.

  “Oh. My. God!” Piper groaned. “Enough with the foreplay. Would you two just get a room already?”

  Gunnar’s dark eyebrows snapped together, and he whipped his head toward his younger sister. “What?”

  She shook her head smugly and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Gunnar. I may be sixteen, but I’m not naive. I know sexual tension when I see it, and you two are giving off so many pheromones that wild animals are going to start showing up here in a minute.”

  Gunnar frowned and shot Derek a look. “What have you been teaching her, Doc?”

  Derek lifted both hands. “Don’t look at me.” Then twitching a grin, he added, “And for the record, I agree with Piper. I’m also sensing a certain...vibe between you two.”

  Violet’s mouth opened, but only a sort of choking sound came out. A sexual vibe between her and the boorish linebacker? No way...

  Gunnar scoffed and backpedaled from their nose-to-nose standoff, grumbling, “Give me a break.”

  With one last dark glance at her, the older Colton brother stormed back toward the SUV.

  “So then you’re okay with them filming here as long as they avoid your cabin?” Derek called after him.

  When Gunnar didn’t answer, Derek grinned mischievously at Mac. “I think that’s a yes. When do you want to start?”

  * * *

  Get a room? Gunnar gritted his back teeth as he stormed back to the Suburban. If Piper weren’t too old to spank...

  He huffed out a frustrated breath. Who was he kidding? He’d never lay a hand on his sister in the name of discipline. But that mouth of hers! And when had his baby sister learned about sex and pheromones, for cripes sake? The idea Piper had become a young woman while he was deployed unnerved him, and the thought of some randy teenage boy coming sniffing around his sister...

  Gunnar flexed and balled his fists a few times to work out the tension. He knew all too well what boys Piper’s age thought about girls. It was pretty much the same thing men his age thought about women—especially perky young women with short blond hair and Bambi eyes...sassy, petite women with ample curves and pouting lips that begged to be kissed...

  Grunting, Gunnar scrubbed a hand over his face. Damn it, Piper was right. As annoyed as he was to see the film crew on the ranch property, Gunnar had found trading barbs with the feisty actress incredibly...invigorating, arousing.

  Yanking open the driver’s door of the ranch’s Suburban, Gunnar growled under his breath. If he wanted to get involved with a woman—which at this juncture in his life, he did not—a spoiled and superficial starlet was the last person he’d consider for a fling. And a starlet with kids? He shuddered. No thank you. He was not a glutton for punishment.

  Cranking the engine, Gunnar glared through the windshield at the people assembled on the ranch lawn, and a sour feeling gnawed his gut. He knew he’d been inordinately rude. Guilt kicked him for having assumed a hostile demeanor. But after the incident in town, his nerves were already jangling, and all he wanted was to go back to his cabin, reheat some leftover stew for dinner and kick back in his recliner for the Penn State football game—alone, without distractions. He wanted to think—or not think if his thoughts dwelled too long on the way he’d made a fool of himself in town or the fool of himself he’d made in front of the movie crew.

  He squeezed the steering wheel impatiently as Violet Chastain’s dressing room bus lumbered down the driveway, out of his path. He cut another glance to the tiny woman who’d stood up to him like a warrior or a mama bear when he’d challenged her. The spark that had lit her brown
eyes had intrigued him, enticed him. He sent an appreciative gaze over her formfitting green minidress and tan leggings, the spots of color the cold air put in her cheeks. With her pixie haircut, petite stature and gamine face, was it any wonder she conjured images of Tinkerbell for him? She was a grown-up Tinkerbell...with a hot body and lush mouth. And a dead husband. And kids.

  Gunnar shook his head to clear it and jammed the SUV in gear as the bus finally cleared the road. The blonde actress stirred too many confusing and contradictory feelings in him. His gut told him she was trouble with a capital T. While the movie crew filmed in town and at the Double C, he’d do well to stay far away from the temptation and aggravation that was Violet Chastain.

  * * *

  Violet stamped up the steps into her tour bus, then stopped for a moment as a shiver rolled through her from the cold, from unspent adrenaline after her confrontation with Gunnar, and from...okay, lust, because Gunnar Colton, jerk that he was, had a to-die-for physique, a rough-hewn square jaw and knee-melting hazel eyes. Too bad he had the personality of an angry badger.

  The rest of the Colton family she’d liked. Derek had been charming and gracious. Piper was clearly bright, if starstruck, while Sawyer seemed shy and soulful, his dark eyes keenly assessing, much like her Mason’s did.

  As if her thoughts of her contemplative son had conjured him, Mason toddled out of the bus’s bedroom and spotted her. “Mommy!”

  “Hey, sunshine!” Violet hurried to scoop her son into her arms for a hug. “All done napping?”

  Mason gave her wet kisses, then pressed his chubby hands to her face. “Cold.”

  “Yeah, it’s cold outside. Brrr!” She poked her chilled nose against his cheek, which still bore the impression of his blanket from his nap, and he shrank back giggling.

  “Brrr!”

  “Mommy!” Hudson’s voice preceded him as he came charging out of the bedroom with no diaper on.

  Violet stooped to greet her second son, laughing. “Well, hello young streaker. Do you have a kiss for me?”