Keep My Heart (Top Shelf Romance Book 7)

by Lex Martin

  Logan runs his hands through his hair. “I mentioned you might be stopping by. He must’ve forgotten.”

  “Don’t be an ass. You know you didn’t tell me,” I grumble, more and more pissed by the minute to be blindsided. Turning to the women, I sigh. “I’m gonna go change. Give me five minutes, and ignore everything that comes outta his mouth. Seriously, Logan, I have other shit I need to do right now.” A potential buyer from Dallas is stopping by tonight, and my to-do list is obscene. This isn’t the day I want to interview Ariel the Mermaid. And yes, I know every damn Disney character. “Next time warn a guy.”

  Kat’s daughter Izzy peeks out from behind her mom’s flowing dress and waves. “Hi, Mr. Ethan.”

  Shit. I shouldn’t be cursing in front of her. “Hey, little darlin’. Didn’t see you there.” She’s a couple of years older than my daughter.

  Izzy giggles and waves some more, and I twiddle my fingers at her like a lame ass.

  Kat tries to hide her smile, but Tori doesn’t look amused. In fact, she looks as pissed off as I feel. Hopefully this interview will go fast. Because clearly this isn’t gonna work out. And in my experience, there’s never a good reason to jam a square peg in a round hole.

  Tori

  This guy’s rude. My skin prickles with irritation. And Kat could’ve mentioned he looks like a Hemsworth.

  I set my palm on my stomach to calm my nerves. It’s bad enough living with a stranger, but a sexy one? Rugged and tatted up, someone who looks like he wrestles bears in his spare time? He’s definitely not on my diet plan.

  Ethan tosses a legal pad on the island like it has personally offended him—it lands with a loud smack—and then he motions for me to grab a seat on one of the bar stools.

  Damn it, I wish Kat hadn’t gone to play with the kids, because now I’m alone with Mr. I-Have-a-Six-Pack-and-a-Bad-Attitude. If he didn’t want me here, he should’ve simply asked me to leave.

  “How old are you?” he asks without preamble.

  Nice to meet you too. Why is it that gorgeous men always treat women like shit? Yeah, he’s gorgeous. Probably in his late twenties. Tall with shaggy blond hair and a scruffy face from not shaving. Electric blue eyes that would have me doing a double take if he were a guy in my bar. And those abs he flashed me a few minutes ago? With water dripping over every dip and curve? Totally droolworthy. But if memory serves me, a pretty package means trouble every time.

  “I’m twenty-three.”

  He makes a face. “Let’s cut to the chase,” he says, leaning one hand on the counter. “Whoever I hire is gonna have to get a background check and fingerprints done, so if there’s anything shady in your past, you should tell me now.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks. “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” I glare back at him. My sister is high off her ass if she thinks this will work out. And for a live-in position! He and I would annihilate each other. She knows I don’t play nice with overbearing assholes. Those baby hormones must have deteriorated her brain to make her think this would work. “I’m pretty sure I won’t pass your precious background check since I did get arrested that one time for snorting coke off a hooker’s tits,” I snark.

  He rolls his eyes.

  My glare intensifies. “I’m not even sure I like kids. I’m doing this so I can be near my sister because she has a high-risk pregnancy. But I’ll be honest—your attitude sucks. If you didn’t want us here, you should’ve said so instead of being a dick about it.” Am I being dramatic? Maybe. Except now I’m worked up, and there’s no stopping the crazy train. “You know what? Just forget it. I can’t imagine having to live here and deal with you twenty-four seven.”

  “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” He chuckles and then rubs his jaw, but then says, “You sound just like my ex-wife,” under his breath.

  We stare at each other, and I lift my eyebrows, feeling the awkwardness of the moment pierce my anger. Any mention of wives, ex-wives, or ex-girlfriends gives me the hives.

  Clearing his throat, he asks, “What’s wrong with Kat? Thought everything was going okay.”

  “High blood pressure.”

  He motions to the other room where Kat and Izzy are hanging out with Logan. “That’s pretty common. She looks good, though. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

  I nod, counting the seconds until I can get out of here.

  Self-consciously, I survey my outfit, eying the cutoffs and the old boots my sophomore-year roommate gave me. When my sister asked me to come home with her for a few days, I didn’t think she’d drag me to an interview the first chance she had. I brought clothes so I could hang out on her farm and do her laundry, maybe cook for her, not sit in front of a firing squad. In this gorgeous, sprawling house no less.

  I hate this, not planning ahead and always being the lowly person in need of something. Not being good enough. Story of my life.

  Shit.

  My eyes sting, and I blink back the heat. I will not cry in front of this guy.

  When I pull in a breath, I sniffle. Damn it.

  “Hey. I’m sorry,” he says gruffly. “I don’t mean to be an asshole.”

  “Yeah, you do.” I shake my head, not wanting to look at him. “But no worries. I’m gonna go.” I sniffle again. “Sorry we messed up your afternoon.”

  Jumping off the stool, I quickly wipe my eyes and stalk off to find my sister, who is sitting on the living room floor with Izzy and two other kids jumping around her. Why in the world is she down there?

  “Tori!” the little girl screams.

  This must be Mila, Ethan’s daughter. What a cutie.

  She looks familiar. I probably met these kids at one of the festivals my sister hosts at her farm. Mila runs toward me and launches herself into my body. I reach out and try to steady myself before we both topple over, but a strong arm grabs me before I completely lose my footing.

  My breath catches and goose bumps break out all over my body when I look up into those intense blue eyes. Immediately, I shake off Ethan’s grip and direct my attention to his daughter.

  Kneeling, I smile at her. Another sniffle escapes me. “Hey, Mila. Long time no see! How have you been, honey?”

  She wraps her arms around my neck in a tight hug. “Did you come to play dress-up with me?” Oh, my God. What a sweet kid. “Kat said you like to play dress-up. Remember when you painted my face? Can we do that again? I liked that.” Vaguely, I remember a younger Mila asking me to draw a butterfly on her cheek. When she pulls back, she worries her bottom lip. “Or did you come to talk to my mom? She doesn’t live here anymore. She’s ’posed to come this weekend, but I don’t know…” Big tears well in her eyes. “Sometimes she doesn’t come.”

  Oh, shitshitshit.

  “Know what? I’d love to play dress-up. I bet you have the best clothes. Maybe even a tiara?”

  She blinks real fast and nods like a bobblehead doll. “I do! My daddy got it for me. It’s sooo pretty!”

  “Coolness. Listen, I need to go in a few minutes, but maybe we could put your tiara on first?” She bobbleheads again, and I laugh. “Hurry and grab it.”

  As soon as she darts out of the room, I realize there’s another woman here sitting next to Logan on the couch. She has short grayish-blonde hair and a friendly face.

  Standing, I wave. “Hi, I’m Tori, Kat’s sister.” I muster a smile, keenly aware that Ethan is watching my every move.

  The woman grins as she reaches over to pull a toddler onto her lap. That must be Cody. Would’ve been nice if my sister had mentioned that one of the kids is still in diapers.

  The woman returns my wave. “I’m Beverly, the grandma.”

  “Oh, man. So these two guys are yours?” I motion between Logan and Ethan and blow out a breath. “I’m so sorry.”

  She barks out a laugh. “I like this one.”

  Mila trots back in, this time wearing a fluffy, hot pink boa. She waves her tiara at me. “Here.”

  “I love your boa. Every girl should have one of these.” A t
winge of sadness settles over me at an old memory of Jamie and that time he made love to me one night while all I wore was my red boa and heels. Despite his promises, I’ve realized he only wanted me for sex. The thought hardens my heart, which I welcome. No sense in letting anyone do that to me again.

  Bending down, I fix Mila’s long blonde hair behind her ears before I slide on her tiara. “Voilà! What a perfect princess you are!”

  She grins and gently pats her costume jewelry.

  I whisper in her ear. “I bet your daddy would love to take a selfie with you while you’re dressed up.”

  Her smile widens as she turns to her father, whose attention is drilled on me. Seriously, why is he staring? I motion my head toward his kid. Look alive, dude.

  His eyes shift to Mila, and I’m taken aback by the love that floods his expression. She asks him to take a photo with her, and he nods and scoops her into his arms, presses a kiss to her forehead, and reaches for the cell in his back pocket.

  I look away, not needing to see some sentimental moment between these two.

  Even though Ethan seems to have a stick up his ass, the living room is welcoming with cozy, overstuffed couches and a big flatscreen TV. Along the far wall is a stone fireplace with a mantel full of photos and horse trophies.

  When we pulled up to the ranch, my sister said this property has been in Ethan’s family for three generations.

  “Your house is gorgeous, ma’am,” I tell Beverly.

  Her face lights up. “Ethan did all the renovations.”

  He sets down Mila and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Ma, you know I had some help.”

  I ignore the shiver that runs through me from the sound of his deep voice.

  Beverly points down the hall. “He installed those beautiful counters in the kitchen, expanded the house, knocked down walls, added the bedrooms along the East side—the whole shebang. He really is very handy.”

  Too bad he’s a dick. I smile awkwardly and nod, turning my back so I don’t have to look at Ethan and his throat-punching presence.

  My sister tries to scoot off the floor, and I roll my eyes and rush to help her up.

  “No more sitting on the floor,” I groan as I steady my sister.

  When Izzy grabs her mom’s hand, I finally let go of her.

  “I told her to sit on the couch,” Logan says, rubbing his jaw the same way his brother does.

  Logan gives me a shrug and a wink, and I can’t resist smiling back. He’s a carbon copy of his brother except his eyes are lighter, and he’s leaner. Not to mention nicer. Ethan is all brawn with hard muscles, tattoos, and a roughness I can’t really explain.

  It’s crystal-clear the Carter brothers are total lady-killers.

  That means it’s time to go.

  Because I’ve had my fill of these kind of guys for at least a lifetime.

  Ethan

  My mother stirs the pot on the stove and hums in the back of her throat. “Isn’t Tori a peach?”

  “Stop it, Ma.”

  “What? Ethan, she’s adorable. Did you see the way Mila lights up around her? I feel better about going to Chicago already.”

  Propping my hands on my hips, I drop my head back with a sigh. “I’m not hiring her.” Even though it kinda kills me not to.

  I don’t exactly have a string of available babysitters on call, and I’m not dumb enough to think I can take care of the kids on my own when my mom leaves. Why did I have to be such an asshole to Tori this afternoon?

  “That girl is exactly what we need around here. She’s sweet as pie with the kids and doesn’t put up with your malarkey.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I heard what you said to her. All that bark, like you were trying to scare her away, and she just dished it right back. Not like Allison, who told you what you wanted to hear until she lost her noodle over something silly.”

  That’s because Allison never let anyone see the real her. In private, she nitpicked me to death. Nothing was ever good enough or nice enough. To everyone else, though, she pretended things were fine because she wanted them to think she was perfect.

  “Has anyone ever told you it’s not polite to eavesdrop? And anyway, Tori told me she doesn’t like children. That she’d fail a background check. Who says that?”

  Though she obviously has a way with kids. Mila hasn’t stopped talking about her this evening.

  My mom laughs under her breath. “Sounds like you were both lying to each other. You know, in my day, we called that foreplay.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Please, please stop talking.”

  She stirs the pot like she hasn’t just grossed me the fuck out. “I never thought Allison was right for you.” Here we go again. “She never had any spark. Boring as a dishrag.”

  “She wasn’t boring.” I groan as I rub the ache in my chest. For some reason, I feel the need to defend her. “We grew apart. When we were at A&M, things were different. Our relationship was easier.” Of course shit’s easier before you have kids.

  I guess I always knew Allison wasn’t exactly wired to be home all the time. To be so domestic. She liked hanging with her circle of rich friends. Being social. Being seen.

  Rubbing that spot again, I shake my head. “I don’t think she realized how hard it was gonna be living out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  I thought we’d be a team and help each other. Sure, it’s my parents’ ranch, but I was putting in long days for our family. For her and our kids. Not for shits and giggles.

  My mom waves a wooden spoon at me. “Don’t be dramatic. Austin is forty minutes away, and there’s a Walmart down the road. We’re not total hicks.”

  I chuckle. Beverly Carter is as feisty as they come. “You know what I mean. Being isolated on the ranch. I think she needed to be around more people. And it’s not like she was prepared to have a baby so soon.” Ain’t no way to prepare for a baby when you’re a senior in college.

  “What she needs is to take care of her kids and be a good mother. What she needs is to be a woman of her word and live up to her marriage vows.”

  That ache grows, and I open the fridge to grab a beer. “It is what it is. Nothing I can do about it now.” Trust me, I’ve tried.

  “Good riddance. At least this way, I know Allison won’t be taking off with my jewelry when I die.”

  “Ma, c’mon.” I reach for this teeny woman who somehow birthed me and my brother. Kissing the top of her head, I laugh. “No more talk about dying, okay?”

  “Ethan?”

  “Yeah.”

  She puts her hand on my shoulder and looks up at me. “Your daddy would be proud of you. So proud of everything you’ve done here.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “Thanks. I try.” Filling my dad’s shoes when he passed six years ago was something none of us expected I’d have to do so soon. He was young and healthy. I thought I’d have more time. More time to travel with Allison. More time to enjoy being young. More time to learn from my father.

  “I know it, son. I’m proud of you too. The last few years have been tough, but you hang in there. You’re a damn good father and a damn good rancher.” She presses her lips together. “I’m sorry your wife didn’t appreciate you.”

  Blowing out a breath, I hug her tight and let her go before we both start crying like little girls. “What’s for dinner? I need something with beef before I waste away.”

  She chuckles and pats my gut. “I got just the thing.”

  The next morning, I skim my emails and am surprised to see a message from Kat. All it says is, “My sister may seem crabby, but she’s a sweetheart under that tough shell, and she’s wonderful with kids. Thought you might need this if she hasn’t scared you away.” When I open the attachment, Tori’s driver’s license pops up on the screen.

  Yes, I was a dick to Tori yesterday. Yes, I deserved her animosity. But I wasn’t prepared to like her smart mouth and all that sass. In fact, I haven’t stopped thinking about it—ab
out her—since.

  Of course, she’s beautiful in this photo. Hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. Plump lips smiling. All that fucking hair.

  Hair that would feel damn good dragging along my chest while she rode me.

  Scrubbing my face, I groan. Jesus, the last thing I need is to be thinking about her like this.

  “Why so forlorn, bro?” Logan plops down into the chair on the other side of my desk with a smirk and a shrug like he’s footloose and fancy-free.

  I love my brother, but I really want to kick his ass for springing Tori on me. “That stunt you pulled yesterday was hysterical. Thanks for that.”

  “No problemo. Thought you needed a nudge.”

  “No more fucking nudges. I’ll do this when I’m damn well ready.” The sound of his snicker makes me lift my eyes. “You’re wearing down my last nerve.”

  “What? I’m a problem-solver. I solved your problem.”

  “You’re a pain in the ass.”

  He grabs his chest and pretends he’s hurt, but then that smirk returns. “You’ll thank me some day for hiring Tori. The kids love her, Kat vouches for her, and Tori’s hot. It’ll be nice to have some eye candy around here for a change. I’d rather stare at her gorgeous ass than your plumber’s crack.”

  My hands automatically clench. “You are not fucking my babysitter.” I don’t bother reminding him that I haven’t hired her yet.

  Delight stretches across on his face like it’s Christmas morning and I just plunked one of his Instagram crushes on his lap. “Gee, bro. Why not? Are you jealous?”

  I ignore the question, even though I’m oddly aware that I might be. Not sure why. I don’t even know the girl. Except for that crazy-sexy hair, she’s not my type. “And I don’t walk around with my crack hanging out, moron.”

  Reaching over my desk, he grabs a pencil and twirls it on the counter. Silence settles over us as I watch him spin that number two. Finally, he says, “Remember that time I almost got arrested for mooning Charles DeWitt’s daughter? Dad was so pissed. How was I supposed to know her family was in the car with her? I thought she was driving her friends back from the football game.”