Claiming the Rancher's Heir

by Maisey Yates

  Well, so did Creed. Anything to get their dad out of his depression. They’d already lost their mother. They didn’t need to watch him slowly slip away, too, because of his sadness.

  “Then it’ll get done. Don’t worry about it.”

  And maybe Jackson even had a point about himself and Wren. They were adults. And as long as everything proceeded with a bit more planning and caution than they had yesterday, what was the harm?

  Maybe it was possible for Creed to drink his wine and have his beef, too. Or something like that.

  “I’ll be down at the winery in a couple of hours,” he said. “I really do need to finish this wall.”

  “All right. See you back at the ranch.” His brother tipped his hat, and turned and walked back toward his truck. And he took with him Creed’s excuses.

  Creed supposed he should write his brother a thank-you note for that. He was right. Creed was good at self-flagellation when it came to losing control. But sex with Wren had been incredible.

  What was the harm in going back for more?

  That was, if she wasn’t too angry at him.

  A slow smile spread across his face. Of course... Anger, with them, didn’t seem to prevent the sex from happening.

  Quite the opposite.

  He might never have experienced anything like this before, but he was eager to experience it again.

  * * *

  Wren had managed to keep her interactions with Creed confined to text messages for the last couple of weeks. His responses had all been short and on-topic, and that weirded her out more than anything else. There was no teasing. No goading. Of course, she hadn’t teased or goaded him either.

  It was weird and unsettling. To not be engaged in some kind of sparring match with him. She would have said that she wanted this distant professionalism that didn’t leave her feeling hot, bothered or angry. Anyway, it got all of the planning done for the event. And today it was all ready to go. An open house, of sorts, set out on the front lawn of Maxfield Vineyards.

  Thankfully the late October weather was playing nicely, and it was sunny and warm. Oregon Octobers were a gamble. They could be infused with all the warmth of spring, with deeper golds infusing the air. Or they could be gray, damp and snarling, with a harsh bite in the wind.

  Today was golden, and so was the event.

  There was no dunk tank. Neither was there a bouncy castle. But there were barbecues and smokers, coupled with lovely covered seating areas, and some places that had quilts set out like an old-fashioned picnic. She had to admit, the barbecue was a nice touch. It did make everything seem welcoming.

  And people from Gold Valley, along with folks from the neighboring town of Copper Ridge, seemed to be pouring in to engage in the event.

  It was a success. And she was... Well, she was thrilled.

  But she felt like she should be something more.

  Maybe that was the problem. She was mentally pleased. But she wasn’t as happy as she might have been. Because she knew that Creed was going to be here soon. If he wasn’t already.

  She had spent a few hours early this morning making sure everything was ready to go, so she could go off and get herself dressed and also maybe so she could avoid him.

  Anyway, they had a very good team hired to take care of all the logistics, so it wasn’t as if she needed to micromanage anything.

  Her stomach twisted, butterflies jittering there. She told herself it was because the event was about to begin, and that always made her feel a little bit nervous.

  But she could no longer pretend that was the case when it felt like the crowd parted and the sun shined down upon those who had just arrived. Law Cooper, Jackson Cooper, the family’s friend and surrogate son, Jericho Smith, and petite, feisty Honey Cooper.

  But it was Creed Wren couldn’t look away from.

  Creed, with a black cowboy hat on his head, a black suit jacket, white shirt opened at the collar, showing a wedge of chest that she now knew full well was as spectacular as advertised.

  He had not shown up in jeans and a T-shirt.

  Often, even at formal events, he did wear them, as if he was very intentionally flouting convention. He somehow never looked unprofessional. And she knew that had to do with the fact that his choices were just so damned intentional. He wasn’t rolling into places that way on accident. No, he was wearing his country roots like a second skin, and it was provocative in their sorts of circles.

  But for this, he had dressed up. For this, he had worn a suit. She wanted to...

  Well, there was no use marinating on what she wanted to do.

  The things she had wanted to do every day since the last time he had touched her.

  She had tried to simply appreciate the triumph of a good rebellion. But it wasn’t that easy. Because her body was so greedy and desperate for more of what he had given her. For more sex as it existed for others, more of this realm that had been completely unknown to her prior to Creed’s touch.

  She was so messed up.

  She probably did need to see a therapist. What had happened with her dad was no small thing, and now she was climbing on top of men who were mean to her. That had to say something about her mental state.

  But her physical state had enjoyed it quite a lot, and it was difficult for her to accept it as a one-off. Especially when she kept having sweaty dreams about it.

  “Well,” she said, looking him up and down. “Don’t you clean up nice.”

  “You, too,” he said.

  She was very aware that the eyes of every member of his family were on her.

  In fact, she was so certain, it took her a while to absorb it since the fact was vaguely embarrassing. But when she did catch his father’s eyes, she did not see the speculation she had expected. Instead, he had a strange, wistful look on his face.

  “Wren,” he said. “Right?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You look very much like your mother.”

  She blinked, feeling a strange sensation at the comment. Her mother was beautiful. But Wren didn’t have a lot in common with her. At least, she’d never felt like she had.

  Over the years her mother had become more and more quiet. More withdrawn.

  And Wren could understand why now. Because clearly not all had been well in her parents’ marriage. Her mother must’ve had a sense that her husband was unfaithful at the very least. A predator at worst.

  “Do you know my mother?” she asked.

  “A long time ago,” he said.

  “Let’s go find you a place to sit,” Honey said, grabbing hold of her father’s arm. “Nice to see you.”

  The youngest Cooper clearly didn’t think it was all that nice to see Wren. Jericho and Jackson, on the other hand, were perfectly pleasant. They were both stunningly handsome men, Jackson as tall as his brother, and a bit broader, his eyes the same green. Jericho was even taller, with darker skin and brown eyes, and wide shoulders that looked capable of carrying any number of burdens upon them.

  She found them both aesthetically pleasing. But her reaction wasn’t the same as what Creed made her feel.

  Which was a shame, really, because Jericho and Jackson were so much more pleasant.

  “Good to officially meet you,” Jericho said, extending his hand. She shook it, then Jackson’s.

  “It’s a great event,” Jackson said. “A great idea.”

  “Well, it’s my sister Emerson’s doing. Actually, a whole lot of this new direction is.”

  “I hear her marriage started the tidal wave.”

  Wren laughed. “The blackmail did.”

  “Was the blackmail related to the marriage?” Jericho asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Wren said. “Well, not now. I mean, in the sense that Emerson and Holden are totally fine and no one is being blackmailed to stay in the marriage. It’s complicated.�
��

  At least, it had been. But now Holden and Emerson just loved each other.

  Jackson and Jericho left, which put Wren and Creed far too close to each other.

  “Nice to see you. In fact, I was beginning to think you had vaporized.”

  “No,” he said. “Just getting my head on straight. Figured it would be best to focus on the planning of all of this.”

  “I suppose so,” she said.

  “Looks amazing.”

  “You were right about the barbecue. People love it.”

  “Now, I’m surprised you didn’t burst into flame.”

  “You know, I might have, but recent events left me somewhat inoculated.”

  “Good to know. I thought they might have left you...”

  “Oh, now you’re concerned? You certainly didn’t show any concern when you decided to pretend nothing happened.”

  “Is that what you want to fight about now?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. There’s such a huge array of things we could fight about. Considering we haven’t seen each other in a couple of weeks and a whole lot has happened. Though, I do think the obvious thing to fight about would be the sex that we had, which you’re still trying to pretend didn’t happen.”

  She had not intended to open with that. She hadn’t intended to be talking about this with him with guests all around them, and members of their family in close proximity. But it just kind of poured out of her. Maybe it was him. But maybe it was her, too. Maybe it was everything that she was.

  Everything that she had become in the last couple of months.

  This creature she was trying to remake herself into, in her own image, and not that of her father.

  And really... What was the point of watching what she said around Creed? Everything was already as horrifying as it could ever be. Everything was already ruined. There was no dignity left to be had.

  She had climbed him like a tree and had an earth-shattering orgasm seconds after he had thrust into her. She was sure she’d left him bleeding from digging her nails into his back. She’d probably caused hearing damage with how loud she’d screamed when she’d come.

  There was pretty much no coming back from that.

  Her dignity was toast.

  He knew how much she wanted him. But the flipside was she knew how much he wanted her. And she suspected the fact that he had pretended that nothing had transpired between them was only evidence of just how much he wanted her.

  Something about wanting her bothered him.

  But then, he had come to this event all dressed up.

  She couldn’t figure the man out.

  And as much as it pained her to admit it, she sort of liked that about him. That he wasn’t easy. That she didn’t intimidate him. That he didn’t want her money or her influence. Everything about him that was so annoying was simultaneously also compelling, and that was just the whole thing.

  “Come here,” he said, his voice suddenly hard. “I want to show you something.”

  There was a big white tent that was still closed, reserved for an evening hors d’oeuvre session for people who had bought premium tickets, and he compelled her inside. It was already set up with tables and tablecloths, everything elegant and dainty, and exceedingly Maxfield. Though there were bottles of Cowboy Wines on each table, along with bottles of Maxfield select.

  But they were not apparently here to look at the wine, or indeed anything else that was set up. Which she discovered when he cupped her chin with firm fingers and looked directly into her eyes.

  “I’ve done nothing but think about you for two weeks. I want you. Not just something hot and quick against a wall. I need you in a bed, Wren. We need some time to explore this. To explore each other.”

  She blinked. She had not expected that.

  He’d been avoiding her and she’d been so sure it was because he didn’t want this.

  But he was here in a suit.

  And he had a look of intent gleaming in those green eyes.

  She realized then she’d gotten it all wrong.

  “I... I agree.”

  She also hadn’t expected to agree.

  But her heart was about to fly out of her chest, and she was achy and wet between her legs already. She sort of wanted to ask him if they could try it up against the wall of the tent. But she had a feeling that would only culminate in the two of them falling through the filmy fabric and embarrassing themselves.

  She just didn’t have the willpower to resist him.

  “I want you now,” she whispered, and before she could stop herself, she was up on her tiptoes and kissing that infuriating mouth.

  She wanted to sigh with relief. She had been so angry at him. So angry at the way he had ignored this. Because how dare he? He had never ignored the anger between them. No. He had taken every opportunity to goad and prod her in anger. So why, why had he ignored this?

  But he hadn’t.

  They were devouring each other, and neither of them cared that there were people outside. His large hands palmed her ass, pulling her up against his body so she could feel just how hard he was for her. She arched against him, gasping when the center of her need came into contact with his rampant masculinity.

  She didn’t understand the feelings she had for this man. Where everything about him that she found so disturbing was also the very thing that drove her into his arms.

  Too big. Too rough. Crass. Untamable. He was everything she detested, everything she desired.

  All that, and he was distracting her from an event that she had planned. Which was a cardinal sin in her book. And she didn’t even care.

  He set her away from him suddenly, breaking their kiss. “Not now,” he said, his voice rough. “Tonight. All night. You. In my bed.”

  “But can’t we just...”

  “We are in a tent.”

  “I don’t really care,” she said, amazed.

  “You don’t?”

  “Maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown,” she said. “It’s entirely possible. It has been a very weird few months. And I just... I don’t know. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m not sure I want to know who I am. You’re right. I’ve been in a box. And I didn’t want to admit it. I just wanted to be mad at you. I just wanted to yell at you. But then we kissed, and then we did other things, and I’ve spent the last two weeks being incredibly confused about it. But you know what confuses me most? That I’m not ashamed. But I’m not sorry. I think it was good. Because even if it was the biggest mistake of my life, at least it was my mistake. I’ve done everything that’s ever been asked of me. I’ve dated only men that were expected. I’ve never had sex outside of a relationship.”

  “It’s fun,” he commented.

  “Apparently. I know that now. And...it was just for me.”

  “I don’t know about that. I got something out of it, too.”

  “Well, good for you.” She sighed heavily. “Okay. I’m not baring my soul to you or anything like that. But... Look, it’s been weird. The whole thing with my dad. I swear to you, I didn’t know how awful he was.”

  “I’m sorry that I brought your dad up the other day.”

  “No. It’s okay. I mean... It’s not. It was painful. But I’m working through things. And, I think I’m getting there. Better. This is part of it.”

  The left side of his mouth lifted. “Sexual healing?”

  “Why not?” she asked. “Nothing else has worked.” She took a breath, and then everything just poured out. “I worry about Cricket. Because she’s not really talking to anyone. My mom is just kind of... Well, she’s doing what she does. She’s hiding. Emerson has Holden, and she seems to be coming out of it just fine. I feel like I’m in a weird space. I can’t exactly live in denial. I’m too involved in this business. I feel the loss of my father too much. But I don’t
really feel okay about any of it. Or over it. I’m not sure that I feel okay about me. I need to figure out what I want.”

  “You’re not thinking about leaving the industry, are you?”

  “No,” she said. “I think I feel like this—” she gestured to the interior of the very Maxfield tent “—is mine. But... What I’m saying is a little rebellion is what I need right now.”

  “Happy to be a part of it.”

  “Yeah, well.” It was unexpected just how easy it was to tell him all of this. Somehow, she couldn’t really be embarrassed around this man.

  She had yelled all kinds of unflattering things at him over the years. She was not the best version of herself when he was around. It was like he tapped into some unfettered part of her that she didn’t normally have access to. And when he was in the room, she just let fly.

  It now extended to sex, apparently, and again, she wasn’t even embarrassed about it. She had a total and complete lack of inhibition with him.

  And right now, that felt like a gift.

  Because she’d had nearly thirty years of being inhibited. Of following a very specific path. And Creed represented something wild and free that she’d never thought she could be.

  Maybe that was the real reason he made her so angry. That he had been free in about a thousand ways she was sure she never would be.

  “Then let’s go do our jobs,” he said. “The sooner we get finished with all of this...”

  The last part was left unspoken, but the promise in his tone was clear. And her whole body responded to that. Effortlessly. Deeply.

  And she knew she had made the right choice. To continue down this path with him.

  It might end badly... But there was something in her that didn’t fear the consequences. Not really.

  She had gone down the expected path before. She had done it all of her life. And look how that ended. With her father...

  There were no guarantees.

  There were no guarantees. And she would rather live free.

  Four

  His body was on fire.