by Cat Schield
Of course, there was no way that could be the case. His reasons for being at her ranch were as self-serving as hers had been for inviting him. Each of them wanted to win their wager. She’d intended to do whatever it took to get Shane to fall in love with her. Her dire situation made that a necessity. But he’d been pestering her for years to sell and she was sure he’d pull out every weapon in his arsenal to get her to fall for him.
This last thought dumped cold water on her libido. She broke off the kiss and through the blood roaring in her ears heard the measured impact of approaching hooves all around them. It wasn’t unusual for the most dominant cows in the herd to visit the newborn. Half a dozen cows had approached.
“He’s looking around,” she said, indicating the new calf. “Soon he’ll be trying to get up.”
Usually a calf was on its feet and nursing within the first hour of being born. Brandee would have to make sure her ranch hands kept an eye on him for the next twelve hours to make sure he got a good suckle. And they would need to get him ear-tagged and weighed first thing. The calves were docile and trusting the first day. After that they grew much more difficult to catch.
Brandee stepped away from Shane and immediately missed their combined body heat. “I think it’s okay to head back.”
“I’m glad I came out tonight,” Shane said as they rode back toward the horse barn. A quick sweep of the pasture had shown nothing else of interest.
“You’re welcome to participate in night duty anytime.”
“How often do you pull a shift?”
“Once a week.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No.” But how did she explain that sitting on a horse in the middle of the night, surrounded by her pregnant cows, she felt as if everything was perfect in her world? “But when I’m out here I think about my dad smiling down and I know he’d be happy with me.”
She didn’t talk about her dad all that much to anyone. But because of Shane’s awestruck reaction to tonight’s calving, she was feeling sentimental.
“Happy because you’re doing what he wanted?”
“Yes.”
“How about what you want?”
“It’s the same thing.” Brandee’s buoyant mood suddenly drooped like a thirsty flower. “Being a rancher is all I ever wanted to do.”
“And yet you started a fashion business instead of coming back to find work as a ranch hand. You couldn’t know that what you were doing with your clothing line would make you rich.”
“No.” She’d never really thought about why she’d chosen waitressing and creating clothing and accessories after running away from her mother’s house over getting work on a ranch. “I guess I wasn’t sure anyone would take me serious as a ranch hand.” And it was a job dominated by men.
“You might be right.”
When they arrived at the barn, this time Brandee insisted Shane take her truck back to the ranch house. She wasn’t going to finish up work until much later. He seemed reluctant, but in the end he agreed.
The instant the truck’s taillights disappeared down the driveway, Brandee was struck by a ridiculous feeling of loneliness. She turned on the computer and recorded the ranch’s newest addition. Then, hiding a yawn behind her hand, she made her way to the barn where they housed cows and calves that needed more attention.
Cayenne was a week old. A couple days ago a ranch hand had noticed her hanging out on her own by the hay, abandoned by her mother. At this age it didn’t take long for a calf to slide downhill, so it paid to be vigilant. Jimmy had brought her in and the guys had tended to a cut on her hind left hoof.
They’d given her a bottle with some electrolytes and a painkiller and the calf had turned around in two days. She was a feisty thing and it made Brandee glad to see the way she charged toward the half wall as if she intended to smash through it. At the very last second she wheeled away, bucking and kicking her way around the edge of the enclosure.
Brandee leaned her arms on the wood and spent a few minutes watching the calf, wondering if the mother would take back her daughter when they were reunited. Sometimes a cow just wasn’t much of a mother and when that happened they’d load her up and take her to the sales barn. No reason to feed an unproductive cow.
Talking about being abandoned by her own mother wasn’t something Brandee normally did, but it had proven easy to tell Shane. So easy that she’d also divulged the theft of her inheritance, something she’d only ever told to one other person, her best friend, Chelsea.
In the aftermath of the conversation, she’d felt exposed and edgy. It was partially why she’d picked a fight with him about his “brokenhearted ex-lovers” comment. She’d wanted to bring antagonism back into their interaction. Fighting with him put her back on solid ground, kept her from worrying that he’d see her as weak and her past hurts as exploitable.
At the same time his offhand comment had unknowingly touched a nerve. She’d asked if he saw her as the sort of woman who’d use a man and cast him aside. Yet she’d done it before and had barely hesitated before deciding to do so with Shane. She was going to make him fall for her and trick him into giving up his legal claim to Hope Springs Ranch. What sort of a terrible person did that make her?
Reminding herself that he intended to take the ranch didn’t make her feel better about what she was doing. He had no clue about the enormity of their wager. Keeping him in the dark wasn’t fair or right. Yet, if he discovered the truth, she stood to lose everything.
As during her teen years living with her mother, she was in pure survival mode. It was the only thing that kept her conscience from hamstringing her. She didn’t enjoy what she was doing. It was necessary to protect what belonged to her and keep herself safe. Like a cat cornered by a big dog, she would play as dirty as it took to win free and clear.
Several hours later, after one final sweep of the pasture, she turned the watch over to her ranch hands and had one of them drop her off at home. She probably could’ve walked the quarter-mile-long driveway to her house, but the emotional night had taken a toll on her body as well as her spirit.
The smell of bacon hit her as she entered the back door and her stomach groaned in delight. With loud country music spilling from the recessed speakers above her kitchen and living room, she was able to drop her boots in the mudroom and hang up her coat and hat, then sneak through the doorway to catch a glimpse of Shane without him being aware.
Her heart did a strange sort of hiccup in her chest at the sight of him clad in baggy pajama bottoms, a pale blue T-shirt riding his chest and abs like a second skin. She gulped at the thought of running her hands beneath the cotton and finding the silky, warm texture beneath. While the man might be a piece of work, his body was a work of art.
“Hey.” She spoke the word softly, but he heard.
His gaze shifted toward her and the slow smile that curved his lips gave her nerve endings a delicious jolt. She had to hold on to the door frame while her knees returned to a solid state capable of supporting her. He was definitely working the sexy-roommate angle for all it was worth. She’d better up her game.
“I’m making breakfast just the way you like it.” He held up the skillet and showed her the eggs he’d scrambled. “And there’s French toast, bacon and coffee.”
Damn. And he could cook, too. Conscious of her disheveled hair and the distinctive fragrance of horse and barn that clung to her clothes, Brandee debated slinking off to grab a quick shower or just owning these badges of hard work.
“It all sounds great.” Her stomach growled loudly enough to be heard and Shane’s eyebrows went up.
“Let me make you a plate,” he said, laughter dancing at the edges of his voice. “Here’s a cup of coffee. Go sit down before you fall over.”
That he’d misinterpreted why she was leaning against the doorway was just fine with Brandee. She a
ccepted the coffee and made her way toward the bar stools that lined her kitchen island. Unconcerned about whether the caffeine zap would keep her awake, she gladly sipped the dark, rich brew.
“It’s decaf,” he remarked, sliding a plate toward her and then turning back to the stove to fill one for himself. “I figured you’d grab a couple hours before heading out again.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled around a mouthful of French toast. “And thanks for breakfast. You didn’t have to.”
His broad shoulders lifted in a lazy shrug. “I slept a few hours and thought you’d be hungry. How’s the new calf?”
“On my last circuit he was enjoying his first meal.”
“Great to hear.” Shane slid into the seat beside her and set his plate down. His bare feet found the rungs of her chair, casually invading her space. “Thanks for letting me tag along last night.” He peered at her for a long moment before picking up his fork and turning his attention to breakfast.
“Sure.”
As they ate in companionable silence, Brandee found her concern growing by the minute. The night’s shared experience and his thoughtfulness in having breakfast ready for her were causing a shift in her impression of him. For years she’d thought of Shane as an egomaniac focused solely on making money. Tonight she’d seen his softer side, and the hint of vulnerability made him attractive to her in a different way.
A more dangerous way.
She had to stay focused on her objective and not give in to the emotions tugging at her. Letting him capture her heart was a mistake. One that meant she would lose everything. Her home. Her livelihood. And worst of all, her self-respect. Because falling for a man who wouldn’t return her love was really stupid and she’d been many things, but never that.
Seven
It was almost six o’clock in the evening when Shane returned from checking on the building site at Brandee’s teen camp. As he entered the house through the back door, the most delicious scents stopped him dead in his tracks. He breathed in the rich scent of beef and red wine as he stripped off his coat and muddy boots. In stockinged feet, he entered the kitchen, where Brandee’s housekeeper stood at the stove, stirring something in a saucepan.
“What smells so amazing?”
“Dinner,” May responded with a cheeky grin and a twinkle in her bright blue eyes.
The fiftysomething woman had rosy cheeks even when she wasn’t standing over the stove. She fussed over Brandee like a fond aunt rather than a housekeeper and treated Shane as if he was the best thing that had ever happened to her employer.
“What are we having?”
“Beef Wellington with red potatoes and asparagus.”
Shane’s mouth began to water. “What’s the occasion?”
“Valentine’s Day.” May pointed toward the dining table, where china and silverware had been laid. There were white tapers in crystal holders and faceted goblets awaiting wine. “You forgot?”
Eyeing the romantic scene, Shane’s heart thumped erratically. What special hell was he in for tonight?
“I’ve been a little preoccupied,” he muttered.
Between helping out at Hope Springs, keeping an eye on the construction at The Bellamy and popping in at Bullseye to make sure all was running smoothly, he hadn’t had five minutes to spare. Now he was kicking himself for missing this opportunity to capitalize on the most romantic day of the year to sweep Brandee off her feet.
Obviously she hadn’t made the same mistake.
May shook her head as if Shane had just proven what was wrong with the entire male sex. “Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now. Dinner’s in half an hour.” She arched her eyebrows at his mud-splattered jeans.
Catching her meaning, Shane headed for his shower. Fifteen minutes later, he’d washed off the day’s exertions and dressed in clean clothes. He emerged from his bedroom, tugging up the sleeves of his gray sweater. Black jeans and a pair of flip-flops completed his casual look.
Brandee was peering into her wine fridge as he approached. She turned at his greeting and smiled in genuine pleasure. “How was your day?”
“Good. Productive.” It was a casual exchange, lacking the push and pull of sexual attraction that typified their usual interaction. Time to step up his game. “Did May head home?”
“Yes. She and Tim were going out for a romantic dinner.”
“Because it’s Valentine’s Day. I forgot all about it.”
“So did I.” Brandee selected a bottle and set it on the counter. With her long golden hair cascading over the shoulders of her filmy top, she looked like a cross between a sexy angel and the girl next door. White cotton shorts edged in peekaboo lace rode low on her hips and bared her sensational, well-toned thighs. “Can you open this while I fetch the glasses? The corkscrew is in the drawer to your right.”
“I guess neither one of us buys into all the romantic mumbo jumbo,” he muttered.
He should’ve been relieved that the fancy dinner and beautifully set dining table hadn’t been Brandee’s idea. It meant that she hadn’t set out to prey on his libido. But that didn’t mean the danger had passed.
“Or we’re just cynical about love.” She gazed at him from beneath her long eyelashes.
Shane finished opening the bottle and set it aside to breathe. He worked the cork off the corkscrew, letting the task absorb his full attention. “Do you ever wonder if you’re built for a long-term relationship?” He recognized it was a strange question to ask a woman, but he suspected Brandee wouldn’t be insulted.
“All the time.” She moved past him as the timer on the stove sounded. Apparently this was her signal to remove the beef Wellington from the oven. “I don’t make my personal life a priority. Chelsea’s on me all the time about it.”
“My mom gives me the same sort of lectures. I think she wants grandchildren.” And he was getting to an age where he needed to decide kids or no kids. At thirty-five he wasn’t over the hill by any means, but he didn’t want to be in his forties and starting a family.
“I imagine she’s feeling pretty hopeless about the possibility.”
“Because I haven’t met anyone that makes me want to settle down?”
Brandee shook her head. “I can’t imagine any woman being more important to you than your freedom.”
And she was right. His bachelor status suited him. Having fun. Keeping things casual. Bolting at the first sign of commitment. He liked keeping his options open. And what was wrong with that?
“And what about you, Miss Independent? Are you trying to tell me you’re any more eager to share your life with someone? You use your commitment to this ranch and your teen camp to keep everyone at bay. What are you afraid of?”
“Who says I’m afraid?”
Bold words, but he’d seen the shadows that lingered in her eyes when she talked about her mother’s abandonment. She might deny it, but there was no question in Shane’s mind that Brandee’s psyche had taken a hit.
“It’s none of my business. Forget I said anything.” Shane sensed that if he pursued the issue he would only end up annoying her and that was not how he wanted the evening to go.
“Why don’t you pour the wine while I get food on the plates.” From her tone, she was obviously content to drop the topic.
Ten minutes later they sat down to the meal May had prepared. Shane kept the conversation fixed on the progress she was making at her teen camp. It was a subject near and dear to her heart, and helping her with the project was sure to endear him to her. Was it manipulative? Sure. But he wanted to buy her property. That’s why he’d accepted the bet and moved in.
Shane ignored a tug at his conscience and reminded himself that Brandee was working just as hard as he was to make him fall for her. He grinned. She just didn’t realize that she’d lost before she even started.
&nbs
p; “This weekend I’m hosting a teen experience with some of the high school kids,” Brandee said. “Megan Maguire from Royal Safe Haven is bringing several of her rescue dogs to the ranch for the teens to work with. Chelsea is coming to help out. I could use a couple more adult volunteers.” She regarded him pointedly.
The last thing he wanted to do was spend a day chaperoning a bunch of hormonally charged kids, but he had a wager to win and since he’d dropped the ball for Valentine’s Day, he could probably pick up some bonus points by helping her out with this.
“Sure, why not.” It wasn’t the most enthusiastic response, but he hoped she’d be pleased he’d agreed so readily.
“And maybe you could see if Gabe is interested, as well?”
If it made Brandee go all lovey-dovey for him, Shane would do as much arm-twisting as it took to get his best friend on board. “I’ll check with him. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
After putting away the leftovers and settling the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Brandee suggested they move out to the patio to enjoy an after-dinner scotch. This time, instead of taking the sofa opposite him, she settled onto the cushion right beside him and tucked her feet beneath her.
While the fire crackled and flickered, Shane sipped his drink and, warmed by alcohol, flame and desire, listened while Brandee told him about the struggling calf they’d saved and reunited with her mother today. He told himself that when Brandee leaned into him as she shared her tale she was only acting. Still, it was all Shane could do to keep from pulling her onto his lap and stealing a kiss or two.
“You know, it is Valentine’s Day,” she murmured, tilting her head to an adorable angle and regarding him from beneath her long lashes.
With her gaze fixed on his lips, Shane quelled the impulses turning his insides into raw need. She was playing him. He knew it and she knew he knew it. For the moment he was willing to concede she had the upper hand. What man presented with an enticing package of sweet and spicy femininity would be capable of resisting?
