by Maisey Yates
The roar of an engine broke the silence, ricocheting off the mountains as it drew closer.
Alexa put her hand up to block the sun from her eyes and watched the faded blue truck pitch and bump its way through the field.
The driver must have seen her, because the truck braked, the abrupt motion rocking the iron beast, stopping it about thirty feet away from her. The driver’s side opened and one denim-clad leg appeared before the rest of a tall, muscular, young ranch hand. He was hot. Broad shoulders, broad chest, trim waist and hips.
But damn, he was young. Maybe twenty-two or –three. Maybe.
“You lost, ma’am?”
“I know you didn’t just call me ma’am, cowpoke. Not if you value your”—she let her gaze drift beneath his garish belt buckle—“valuables.”
“Shucks,” he said dryly. “You staying in one of the cabins? Lark mentioned we had guests.”
“Yes, I am staying in one of the cabins, which blessedly has Wi-Fi, or I would be hitchhiking back to civilization.”
“Lark can’t live without Internet,” he said. “She figures no one else can either.”
“And you can?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never minded not having it.”
“Do you have a name? And please don’t say ‘Slim’ or ‘Tater’ or I will vomit.”
“Tyler.”
“Acceptable. I’m Alexa.” He stuck out his hand and she looked at it. “Do people shake hands out of the office these days?”
He leaned back, hip cocked, thumb hooked through his belt loop. “Would you prefer that I tipped my hat?” He put his hand on the brim of his suede cowboy hat. “Ma’am?” He drawled the last part, a total put-on just to piss her off. She loved it.
“Wouldn’t hurt. Give it a try, Tyler. I might swoon.”
A slow smile spread over his face. He was so cute. Like a shiny, sexy poster of a cowboy model. “Now that would be something.” His blue eyes flickered over her curves. He was quite obviously checking her out. It had been a while since she’d bothered to play the I’m-hot-you’re-hot-let’s-get-naked game, but she remembered it.
And right then, she realized she missed it.
She was also very much not going there. She’d done the younger guy thing. Once. And then she’d only been two years her partner’s senior. But it had been the lamest, most why-bother sex of all time. Life was too short to get sweaty with a guy who didn’t push all the right buttons.
“I’m thirty,” she said. That ought to scare him.
“And?” He arched a pale eyebrow.
“The least you could have done was act surprised.”
“Sorry. I’ll practice it and get back to you. So you’re thirty and . . . ?”
“And nothing. When I was in high school, you would have been young enough for me to babysit. I would have given you crackers and a juice box and set you in front of Power Rangers.”
“I’m twenty-four.”
A good year older than she’d guessed. Still. Not happening. “Yikes.”
“Good yikes or bad yikes?”
“Not-getting-into-my-pants yikes,” she said. “You can give me a ride back to the main house though, so I don’t have to wander around out here until I’m eaten by wolves.”
To his credit, he didn’t blush or anything, like she might have done when she was his age. Gads. Just that thought made her feel old.
“I think I could arrange that. You need any special assistance getting into the vehicle?” His mouth quirked into a smile. A darn charming smile.
“Too cute, Tyler. I’ll take the ride without commentary.”
He walked over to where she was standing and put his hand on the top of his hat, putting it over his heart. “Now that’s too bad, ma’am.” He leaned in, close enough that she could smell his aftershave and very fresh minty breath. Oh, my. “Because I give good commentary.”
He was messing with her. And flirting with her. And it was working.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
***
From the stables with the retirees, Kelsey and Cole moved on to the main stable, where the Mitchells kept the stud horses and the horses that were being trained to compete in the rodeo circuit.
“There’s big money in this. I mean, potentially,” Cole said, indicating one of the stalls. “If you can breed a winner, and by that I mean one that’s good at shaking riders off his back, you’re looking at serious dollars.”
“And this is the main thing you’re doing?”
“Mainly. It’s fun. I got into it because Cade made some good connections back when he was riding pro. Things are really starting to take off there. We need it, because the whole hotel portion is good, but it’s still growing. And to keep growing it, we need other sources of income.”
“He’s not competing now?”
“He can’t ride anymore. Which, honestly, sucks. He broke his femur. Bad enough that he can hardly walk a straight line. Plus he’s got some back problems. I think. He doesn’t like to talk about it, not in depth.”
“Runs in the family, I’ll bet.”
“We’re the strong, silent type,” he said.
“What happened to him?”
“To Cade? He was thrown off the horse he was riding, which isn’t that unusual, but his boot got caught in the saddle. So he was on the horse, sort of, hanging by one leg, and every step that horse took landed on him first.”
“That sounds horrible,” she said, putting her hand on her stomach, trying to quell the rising nausea.
“It was bad. Is bad. It ended his career. Plus . . . it wasn’t exactly an accident. They found a spike under the horse’s saddle. One of the other riders, Quinn Parker, he put it there. That someone did that to him on purpose just made it worse. That someone would do it for the money, the prestige. He’s just lucky he can walk at all. He could have been killed.”
“Oh . . . geez.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll bet he misses it.”
“Almost as much as I miss him being on the road.”
She frowned. “You don’t really mean that.”
“Mostly not.”
“Good. But I do sort of get it,” she said slowly. “The siblings-driving-you-crazy thing. My sisters . . . well, they’re perfect. As far as my parents are concerned.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. They’re married.”
“And that’s perfect, huh? What about you? You’re successful, right? Your column is pretty big.”
“Oh, it’s huge,” she said, her tone overdramatic, earning a chuckle from Cole. “I’m kind of a big deal. But I don’t have a husband, so . . . my parents think maybe I’m not such a big deal.”
“So, you’re the black sheep.”
“Baaaaa.”
“Nice.”
“Thanks.” Kelsey pulled a piece of hay from a bale that was wedged into a massive stack and twisted it between her fingers. “Yeah, I’m the strange one. Kelsey, the Noble who went to college. The last single sister.” She threw the piece of hay down onto the ground. “It doesn’t help that I’m the oldest. I’m like this major oddity. I go back home and I think people are watching me to see if I’m morphing into a cat lady.”
“Your friend . . .”
“Alexa.”
“Right. She’s not married, is she?”
“No. But she moved away too. She’s living in New York City. Her family’s not quite as conventional as mine either, so she doesn’t catch half the crap I do over being single. Or being a ‘career girl,’ as my mom puts it.”
“A career girl?”
“Condescending, yes?”
“You actually get grief for being successful?”
“Oh, tons. But the thing is, in their world, I’m not successful. It’s subtle, but I just . . . I know my mom doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get how it makes me happy. That I love what I do. She doesn’t understand why I want things outside the ‘natural’ order. Which I think to her has something to do with being barefoot i
n the kitchen.”
“And the baby?”
“She’s going to get that even less.” Kelsey sighed and looked down at her stomach. It was still flat. Her family wouldn’t even guess for a while. But she would have to tell them eventually. It sucked to have anxiety about something like this. To hold in something she was honestly happy about. Not the Cole disaster, but the baby. “Oh, this is a mess.”
“But it’s what you want.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Then who cares what they think?”
“Well, sadly, I do.”
That earned her another chuckle. “Yeah, I get that. My mom would be on me about getting married again. For real this time, and not in Vegas like a godless heathen. Yeah, she would have said that.”
Kelsey laughed. “She and my mom could have been friends.”
“Oh, Lord, no. They would have encouraged each other too much.”
“So . . . do you want to? Get married again, I mean.” After the words left her mouth, she wished she could call them back and reorder them. Or just not say them at all. Because it sounded a whole lot more like a marriage proposal than she’d intended for it to.
But she was curious. She needed to know something about him. Although she wasn’t really sure why. That was the real mystery. Why she was looking for a connection with him at all. They had an accidental connection, one that might very well last them all of their lives. But they didn’t really need anything deeper. More personal. Because none of this was about who he was, beyond whether or not he would be a good father.
She chewed her lip.
Maybe it did matter who he was. Because if he decided he wanted to pursue a custody agreement, that meant her son or daughter would be spending weekends on the ranch.
A solid ball of emotion formed in her chest and melted, spreading through her, making her feel shaky. That wasn’t what she wanted. It certainly wasn’t what she’d imagined when she’d thought about having a baby.
“I’m not all that interested in revisiting the institution, no.”
“Why? Not all marriages are bad, you know.” She was just digging herself in deeper.
“Maybe not. But it’s hard to tell. Some look fine when . . . when they aren’t. So since we’re playing twenty damn questions, why aren’t you getting married?”
She sighed, long and slow. “That’s a whole . . . story. I doubt you want to go there.”
“Probably not.” He looked down at his watch. “It’s about time for dinner. Do you want to come down and eat in the lodge? We deliver up to the cabins too, but we also do a family-style dinner.”
“Um . . .” Did she really want to spend more time with Cole today? Strangely, she found she did. “That sounds great.”
Chapter Six
Kelsey couldn’t remember the last time food seemed appealing. But it did now. She could have kissed someone. Preferably the cook.
There were mashed potatoes, which looked like starchy heaven, and there was pork. She had no idea why, but as soon as she saw it, she knew she needed the strong, salty flavor for her life to be complete. There was a green salad that looked so crisp and amazing she wanted to weep with gratitude.
Blessedly, there was no poultry.
Pregnancy didn’t make sense.
Kelsey was sitting next to Alexa on one end of the table, with a few ranch hands she had yet to meet in between her and Cole and his siblings. It was pretty obvious she and Cole had some sort of connection, and sitting at opposite ends of the table wasn’t really going to disguise it, but still.
She wasn’t ready to explain the situation, and if Cole wasn’t either, it was fine by her.
“So, Kelsey, Alexa,” Lark straightened her glasses and addressed them both, her dark ponytail swinging as she did. “Are you enjoying everything? Did Cole show you everything?”
A slow grin spread over Cade’s face. “Yeah. Did he show you everything, Kelsey?”
Lark turned and shot him a dirty look while Cole pretended to miss the innuendo, then she continued, “Did you get to try any barrel racing?”
Kelsey coughed. “Uh, no. I don’t think I’ll do much riding. I’m not . . .”
“Oh, it’s easy,” Lark said, her enthusiasm so sparkly that Kelsey felt like she needed sunglasses. “It’s not like professional-level barrel racing or anything. Just basics. And it’s really fun.”
“She said no, Lark,” Cole said, his eyes meeting Kelsey’s. Kelsey felt her stomach flutter. And it wasn’t from nausea.
Lark looked slightly crushed. “I know. I just wanted to make sure she knew it was . . . tourist level.”
“Thank you,” Kelsey said, feeling like she’d been involved in a puppy-kicking incident. Lark radiated youth and naïveté. It was very likely that the whole situation would shock her if she knew. “I really did enjoy seeing everything”—she shot Cade a look—“at the ranch today. The horses are beautiful.”
Lark turned her focus on one of the ranch hands, a cute blond. “Did you have a good day, Tyler?”
“I did.” Tyler gave Alexa a look that could only be described as smoldering. Kelsey tried very hard not to feel jealous.
What was there to be jealous of? Flirtation? Sex? Yeah, it had been a long time since she’d had sex. And yeah, she missed it. Of course she did. But now was not the time. Her only real option would be Cole, and that would be stupid. She looked across the table at him; at his square jaw, dusted with dark stubble, at his lips, firm-looking and sexy . . .
Yes. Stupid.
Alexa looked away and sighed. There would be questioning later. Big serious questioning where Kelsey demanded to know exactly what was going on.
Lark looked down at her plate and nearly pushed a lump of potatoes off onto the table. “I’m going to go work on . . . I have a thing.” She stood and walked out of the room.
“I hope that wasn’t because of what I said about the barrel racing,” Kelsey said.
“Probably me,” Cole said. “She’s sensitive. And I’m not. I’ll apologize later.”
Over dinner, Kelsey and Alexa met Dave, Tex, Mike and Tyler, who Alexa clearly already knew. They chatted for a while about their jobs on the ranch and also treated their guests to a gruesome story about Mike and a horseshoe nail.
Kelsey quietly celebrated the victory of not vomiting at the end of the story.
Dinner got loud and boisterous, and Kelsey just sat back and listened to the guys swap stories. She laughed and looked over at Cole, finding his gaze on her. Her stomach dropped that time. She took a sharp breath and did her best to ignore it. Best to pretend it hadn’t happened, really. Because there was no point. None at all.
That was really just a direct result of watching the brief flirtation between Alexa and Tyler. A little jealousy mixed in with a vague longing for her own flirtation. At least that’s what she was telling herself.
Because she didn’t really want a flirtation. She didn’t.
When the plates were cleared, Cole offered coffee.
“No, thanks,” she said, standing as fatigue washed over her suddenly and completely. “I think I’m going to sleep. Maybe now if I don’t hurry back to the cabin.”
“I’ll go with you,” Alexa said.
“I’ll walk you to the path.” Cole stood too and followed them out of the dining room and into the common area of the lodge.
“How do you feel?” he asked when they were out of earshot.
“Great. Fine. For the first time in . . . forever, pretty much. It’s a miracle. I ate and it stayed in.”
“Should we make up a certificate?” Alexa asked.
“Maybe. With gold stars would be nice,” Kelsey said.
“All right, this way,” Cole said, his tone reminiscent of someone trying to get unruly children under control.
He closed the front door of the lodge behind them.
“That was parental of you,” she said.
“Yeah, well, it was a fluke,” he said, his voice rough.
Kelsey breathed deep
, taking in the clean mountain air. Portland was a small city, as they went, but still, the air was different here. “It really is gorgeous.”
“I could never leave,” Cole said.
Her stomach tightened. He could never leave. And the ranch was six hours from Portland. It would be a long commute. But then, at least they weren’t bitter exes. Maybe she could even stay on the ranch during weekends. A little part-time family. And a dude ranch for her son or daughter to play on. It would be . . . neat.
It might work. Maybe.
“I could,” Alexa said.
He turned to her. “Now you’re just trying to annoy me.”
“You can’t order Thai food at midnight,” Alexa said, like he hadn’t spoken.
“A shame.” He grabbed a flashlight from a shelf on the side of the lodge and handed it to Kelsey. “You’re in charge of this. I don’t trust her.”
Kelsey took the flashlight and tossed Alexa a mock-haughty look. “I’m in charge.” She looked back at Cole. “Is this official?”
“Just for the walk up,” he said.
“Yeah, don’t get too excited,” Alexa gave Kelsey an elbow nudge.
“Too late. Drunk with power. And I wield the flashlight.” Kelsey waved it around in a circle, casting the light on Cole’s chest. She cocked her head to the side. Wow. He had a nice chest. He could be the feature photo for her health and wellness article on the ranch.
Man candy.
She shook her head and dropped the focus of the light down to the ground. “Well, thanks for . . . everything. Dinner. And stuff. Showing me the ranch.”
Why were things so awkward with him?
“Sure.” He put his hands in his pockets. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
“Should I step back and allow for a good-night kiss?” Alexa asked.
Both Kelsey and Cole looked at Alexa. “No,” they said in unison.
“Sorry, I had to break the tension; it was making me uncomfortable. It reminded me a lot of some of my dates in high school. Just before the guy copped a feel.”
“Sorry,” Kelsey said, her apology directed at Cole. “She doesn’t interact with people very often. It’s . . . like a puppy that gets locked in the laundry room all day.”
