by Emily Bishop
There was no escaping, was there?
Bruna slithered her heels against the grass, smearing the shit off on the ground, and fire burned in her eyes. “I’ve known you your entire life, James, well enough to know that this is wrong. I—"
I sliced through her words. “You don’t know me. You never have. Now, before you embarrass yourself any further, leave.”
The words had finally hit home. Bruna crumbled in front of me, and an old softness surfaced. “I’m so sorry, James. I never meant to hurt you.” Strangely enough, her words sounded broken, almost as if she meant them.
I waved. “Bye, Bruna.” I turned my back on her and stared up ahead, past my herd and through the narrow road that split my land from public property.
A wail slipped from Bruna’s lips, and then she muttered something under her breath before a door slammed shut again and an engine started.
She was leaving.
For now.
Atohi came up to me and patted me on the back. “She’s the one you were telling me about, huh, boss?”
“Yeah.” I replied, flatly. I couldn’t look at Atohi. That familiar numbness seeped in, cutting off my emotion. I relished it, the nothingness. It was better this way.
I was about to turn my attention toward Tiko when a distressed moo sounded in the distance. Halting in my tracks, I searched for the cry of help, and then froze.
Shit. My cows were heading straight for the road.
“Did you repair the fence?” I fired at Atohi.
“I did. I don’t know what’s happening.” Atohi’s usually calm voice rippled with panic.
I hauled myself on top of Tiko and spurred him into action. As he obeyed my command, a car appeared up ahead, spitting dust and gravel. Pushing Tiko into a full gallop, I leaned in, thrusting my hips in momentum with the speed.
This was it, the thrill I got each time I galloped out in the open.
As I neared the road, fresh anger burned into me—the driver wasn’t paying attention.
I opened my mouth to shout, but the driver slammed on the brakes at the last second. Tires and metal screeched and groaned, and the car swerved dangerously close to the herd.
My cows mooed, and I spotted Mary the momma in their midst, staring blankly toward the car.
Oh hell no. This driver was gonna feel my wrath.
The car door opened, and a sleek figure slipped out.
Shit. It was her.
The woman from the bar.
Tiko sensed my shock and stirred under me, as if he too, was waiting to see where this was heading.
Breathless, she opened her mouth to speak and then closed her lips again. Looking straight up at me, almost apologetically, she searched my eyes for a reaction.
A blush crept up her cheeks, creating a healthy rosiness. I had that effect on women, but watching her react like this… it made me hard.
Not the reaction I’d anticipated for the asshole driver.
I observed her as coolly as I could.
Hello, gorgeous.
Golden blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders.
Fuck, she had mermaid hair. How was that possible?
Piercing green eyes. They were intelligent eyes, full of life and color, grounded in determination and a sense of self-worth. Her skin was flawless and glowing with a healthy olive tan. I hadn’t forgotten her beauty. In fact, her audacity to stare at me at the bar yesterday stirred something inside me, a feeling I had suppressed long ago.
Rein it in.
“Don’t do that.” I snapped, determined to squash her gaping gaze.
She was startled, to say the least. She pursed her lips, and for a second I was tempted to trail my gaze down to those deliciously pink wet lips.
“Do what?” she asked, her voice laced with silky softness.
“Stop staring at me.”
She wasn’t expecting my reply. Taken aback, she leaned against her door, her features morphing into irritation.
“That’s all you have to say to me?” she asked.
What the fuck? She almost killed my cows, and here she was, talking back to me.
I summoned my iciest stare and cast it her way, determined to snuff her out. She replied promptly by folding her arms, preparing herself to take me on.
“What’s wrong with you? Let me guess, Snapchatting and driving?” I asked.
Again, she did the unexpected. A chuckle escaped her lips. Her laugh seeped into my heart, softening something inside me. “Are you always this ridiculous?” she asked, arching one eyebrow at me.
“Ridiculous?” I took the opportunity to trail my gaze down her body. Despite the scorching heat, she wore a long-sleeved blue shirt and yoga pants. The curve of her breasts against the fabric sent my cock into overdrive.
Whoa there.
This was getting out of hand. It was time to put her in her place.“What’s ridiculous is your lack of respect for anyone other than yourself. You nearly killed my cattle. And yourself. Going at that speed.”
Her gaze darkened. “Look, I’m sorry about that – I’d never want to hurt your cattle, believe me. But I’m not the only responsible party here. What the hell are they doing in the road? What if a family had been driving down? They could have been seriously hurt. I’m not the only guilty one here, and I won’t let you trick me into believing that I am. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a hotel to get back to and work to do.” With that, she clambered back into her car and slammed the door shut. “Good day, sir.”
I grabbed hold of Tiko’s reins and glared at her through the windshield. She revved the engine of her car and stared right back at me, fire from head to toe. Fuck, what would she be like in the sack? Wild, tasty, wet… Jesus Christ. Stop it.
I turned Tiko away from her car and trotted back to the fence where Atohi waited. He’d almost finished gathering all our herd safely back through the gap there. God knew how that’d happened.
He threw me a questioning glance, and I shrugged at him.
An unwanted image of her and her sexy smart mouth rushed in, and my cock stirred in my pants.
Holy fuck, whoever this woman was, her effect wasn’t going unnoticed. I had to pull my shit together.
Summoning the numbness back, I let her influence fade away into background noise. I willed myself back to the task at hand.
Atohi, however, had other plans for me. “For a second there, it looked like you’d met your match, buddy.”
I snorted at him, but Atohi didn’t give me a second to gain the upper hand. He rode off with Pinkie and my cows, leaving me to yet again dwell on the intriguing woman that had crossed paths with me twice now in the space of twenty-four hours.
Chapter 3
Summer
I pulled up my car in front of Hayden Outdoors and took a minute to calm my racing heart. Dripping Springs was either going to make or break me, but this was getting out of hand. A near-miss with a herd of cows, a mystery stranger who had the capability to melt the panties off my body with a glance, and this morning, I’d plugged my curling iron into the wall socket and almost electrocuted myself.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or scream in frustration.
And that man from the bar… that infuriatingly sexy but pompous man, where did he come from?
An image of him galloping toward me on his horse like some sort of contemporary prince rushed in uninvited. Like a storm of ice and fury, he had looked beautifully unkempt with dirty jeans, those Chuck Taylor’s, and a fisherman’s hat. His hat I had not expected. Weren’t Texas men supposed to wear cowboy hats?
He had style, I’d give him that.
I shoved thoughts of him away. I had to, for the sake of my breath.
Surely, Hayden Outdoors would point me in the right direction. Google revealed them to be one of the best real estate agencies out here. All I needed was one cattle ranch owner to interview and document their work, and I would be on my high-horse ready to ride.
At the thought of a horse, Hottie McStranger-Pants sprang
into my mind again, a mass of power and tallness, riding a giant horse as if it were no big deal. And that voice—I was surprised at his measured tone, the syllables that had spilled out of him silkily. He wasn’t from Texas, that was for sure. If I had to guess, I’d even say New York—
No! Stop it, Summer.
Collecting myself, I climbed out of the car and headed for the building.
Inside, the office was cozy, with chairs lined up against the window. Yellow-colored photographs dotted the walls, displaying vast expanses of land around Dripping Springs. A table held bronze-colored awards and trophies of all shapes and sizes, arranged neatly.
A noisy air-conditioner blew cool air my way, and I relished it, a moment of coolness away from the crippling Texas sun.
The office was empty, except for a young man with slicked-back gelled blond hair, who sat behind his desk. He’d chosen a neon green tie to match his bored-into-a-stupor expression as he stared at his computer screen.
I stood there for a few minutes, with the silence stretching on, until it became too awkward. I cleared my throat loudly.
He looked up at me, not impressed. “Can I help you?”
This would take some work, but I was determined to cast my magic on him. I flashed him my most good-hearted smile, a clear attempt to soften his hardness, but his expression remained unchanged.
I dove right in. “Hi, I work with Discover Magazine, and I’m doing a feature piece on the cattle ranching industry here in Dripping Springs. I’m actually looking to find a person who owns a ranch and would be willing to talk to me.”
A long silence ensued, and the man fixed his gaze on me—beetle brown eyes, darting back and forth. “So you aren’t interested in buying a property?” His tone bordered on contempt. The clock on the wall ticked sharply.
“Um, not for the time being, no. Would you be able to help me with a name or some directions?” My question hung in the air for a good long minute.
At last he responded, sighing theatrically. “If you aren’t planning on buying land, you’ll have to come back another time. We are incredibly busy.”
I turned around and scanned the empty room. I faced him, catching his glare. “Yes, I can see that.” Two could play at this game.
“Listen, young lady, you can’t just waltz in here demanding—"
“Can I speak to your manager?” I asked. I didn’t have time for this back-and-forth. I needed answers now.
At the mention of his manager, all color drained from the agent’s face. “Er, that won’t be necessary. He isn’t here at the moment.” His voice trembled, and his gaze flickered toward the door, as if his manager was set to burst in. He straightened and rose from his seat. “How can I help you?” He asked again.
“Have you had any buyers come in lately to secure a ranch?”
“We have buyers come in all the time. But I am not at a liberty to disclose personal client information.”
I continued, “Yes, I understand that. But surely, you have what, 17 listings at a time in Dripping Springs? That must mean you’re cozy with some of the ranch owners, or have at least heard their names in passing.”
The agent mulled over my words. At long last, his eyes lit up, as if he remembered something important. “Well, now that you mention it, there is this one guy who’s gained a little reputation around here. A very private individual. Not your typical local. He came around a year ago and just like that, purchased land worth 4.5 million dollars directly from the owner, blessed old Bob. He was a retired guy who couldn’t keep up with 86.5 acres of land. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a Hayden Outdoors sale.” He finished bitterly.
Jackpot. This sounded promising.
“What’s his name. Where does he live?”
“James Owen is his name. He’s on over at Sawyer Ranch Road. But I would stay away from him if I were you. Rumor has it he purchased the land with blood money. Some folks say he escaped the Cartel. One thing is for sure: That man is running from demons. Why else would you retire from society like that and live like a recluse?”
I wanted to reach over and kiss the agent’s gelled hair. This could fuel my scoop. A shiver ran down my spine. I’d get to the bottom of this James Owen and his ranch, no matter what.
I thanked the agent, not bothering to wait for his cynical goodbye. I was going to go over to James’s ranch and convince him to agree to my story.
My entire body surged with anticipation.
Everything was coming together at last.
*
My mouth dropped open in awe as I gawked at the towering ranch mansion in front of me.
This was where James Owen lived?
Holy moly.
The house towered above me, wrapped in coppery ivy, which coiled around large white French windows and a balcony. Greenery and bushes formed an enclave around the porch, and I spied a couple of rose bushes growing on the side, splashing the house with warmth. Old 18th century style- lanterns lit up the mansion, bathing the property in ethereal light.
I glanced down at my outfit. My comfortable leggings and cropped top felt out of place here.
Oh well. I’d better get on with it.
I walked up the sleek steps and rang the giant bell on the left hand side. A wisp of cool air blew my way, and I paused to relish it, this cool relief from the sun. I half-expected a maid with a cliché aristocratic uniform to open the door, but no, it was an older woman with a glint in her eye.
Her face was lined with laugh lines and creases, but her bone structure was sharp. She had been a beauty once. Still was. “Can I help you?” she asked.
I couldn’t help but smile at her.
She sank into my smile and returned it, revealing startling white teeth.
“Hi, my name is Summer. Is James Owen home?” It had to sound like I was almost expecting him, if I wanted to get past these doors.
“Mr. Owen is out in the fields. Is he expecting you?” The question dug in. She hovered by the door, waiting for an opportunity to slam it shut in my face.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I was grasped by dizziness. My world tilted on axis. I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath, shoving the vertigo away.
When was the last time I had eaten? That peanut butter sandwich for breakfast. I glanced up at the reddening sky. I guess it had been what, nine hours since my last meal?
“Oh dear, are you OK? You’ve gone positively pale.” Her voice softened.
I forced myself to refocus at the task at hand. I didn’t have to bore her with the details of a peanut-butter-sandwich diet.
I flashed her a crooked smile. “Yes, I’m fine. James is not expecting me, no, but I was hoping to talk to him about a potential business opportunity,” I said, lamely.
Apparently, she was good at reading between the lines. “What sort of business opportunity, may I ask?” This woman didn’t beat around the bush. That made for two of us.
“I’m a journalist, covering a story for Discover Magazine about cattle ranching. Since Mr. Owen owns the largest ranch in Dripping Springs, I thought it would only be fitting to have a chat to him about his work.”
The housekeeper’s eyes darkened, and she gripped the edge of the door. Her expression slammed shut. She shook her head. “Mr. Owen likes his privacy. I am not sure he would be willing—"
“Who’s this, Juanita?” A commanding voice boomed ahead.
What the…
I swung my gaze to the left, and, holy shit. I’ll be damned. My jaw dropped.
This guy again.
He looked rough and rugged from his day outdoors. His hair was tousled from the wind, and the sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled up, revealing those tatted muscles I’d spied the day before.
“You again.” He fixed me with his gaze, dark as the sea, a swirl of blue and grey.
Heat rippled through me, and this time I rode the wave. “Me again. The cow driver. Um—I mean, the well, yeah, it’s me. Hi,” I said, and wanted to smack my own forehead. What was it about this man that r
educed me to a blabbering idiot?
“James, this young woman, Summer, is a journalist who would like to have a word with you,” Juanita said.
All the pieces crashed together. Him on a horse, riding off with his cattle that almost killed me, him owning a plot of land. Of course this was his ranch.
James’s entire demeanor darkened. If he was pissed earlier, it was nothing compared to now. He stepped closer toward me, seething.
My heart responded, quickening its beat.
Handsome men, especially ones with chiseled chins and overbearing manners, were not to be trusted. “You are trespassing on private property.”
I corrected him abruptly. “Actually, I am not. I didn’t climb over a fence or anything. I came to your front door.”
He stared at me, and along silence stretched between us. I lost myself in it.
His lips puckered as if he were biting back a smile. But just as quickly, that mask was back in place—had I imagined it?
He folded his arms. “As a landowner, it is my general property right to exclude others from my land. You have wrongfully entered, without my permission or without legal privilege to do so.”
“Ringing the front bell is hardly trespassing,” I tossed back.
“Are you always this infuriating?” His question threw me off.
I reddened under his piercing gaze. It was as if he was undressing every last layer of me and I was naked.
Shuffling my feet, I gathered myself for another comeback, but my low blood-sugar level had other plans for me. A sharp bout of dizziness grabbed hold of me and shook me like a ragdoll.
My vision speckled, and I stumbled. Put out my hands. James’s eyes widened, and he darted forward, arms outstretched.
I fell, vision fading to black. My last vision was of him, lips mouthing my name. “Summer.”
*
A hushed voice murmured, “Wrap your arms around me.” It nudged me from blackness.
I was lifted from the ground, and I obeyed, slipping my arms around a steady neck. I caught a waft of olive soap, musk and mint, and inhaled, resting my head against rock.
