“Oh, were you expecting special treatment? Maybe the women in Hollywood are impressed by your good looks and Oscar nomination—even if you did lose—but I couldn’t care less.”
Jase smirked because he knew it would infuriate her. “I can see that.”
She did step back then, and he felt a surge of victory, like he’d won some unspoken battle. Her eyes glowed with anger. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your method acting. Ranch hands don’t hang out in the family’s kitchen.” She tossed her head toward the door. “The bunkhouse is around back.”
“Your mother invited me to stay for dinner.” In fact, she’d told him to eat with the family as much as he pleased. Jase guessed that for the money he was paying the Ericksons, they’d let him eat whatever and wherever he wanted. If the mouth-watering scent of baking bread was an indication of Sara Erickson’s cooking abilities, he’d take his meals here every day. Homemade rolls—not the gluten-free healthy substitutes they served at upscale restaurants, or the dry and crumbly varieties at grocery stores, but real rolls, probably made with animal fat and loads of butter.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, light and quick. A moment later, Sara entered the kitchen, her apron hanging on her slender frame. She had the same gray eyes as her daughter, and the same blonde curls as well, although Sara’s were streaked with silver. She came to an abrupt stop, her eyes brimming with guilt. “Oh. You’re home, Cassidy.”
Cassidy jabbed a finger in his direction. “When were you going to mention this?” Venom dripped off the word, making Jase grin even wider.
“They probably didn’t want to anger the beast,” Jase said.
Sara’s lined brow told him he’d hit the nail on the head. “I see you’ve met Jase. He arrived not long before you, so I haven’t had a chance to show him around yet. Why don’t you take him to the bunkhouse and give him a feel for the place? Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes.”
Cassidy’s eyes narrowed and she folded her arms. “Are you sure you don’t need help, Mama?”
“Getting Jase settled in is help enough.” There was a finality to her voice that apparently even Cassidy couldn’t argue, because she gave a heavy sigh and pushed her way outside. The bright blue door stuck as it swung closed, not quite shutting.
“She’ll warm up eventually,” Sara said. “She doesn’t like actors much, but that’s just because the only one she’s ever known did her wrong.”
Jase felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. Maybe she wasn’t a spoiled brat used to getting her way and his presence caused her actual distress. But no, he was over-thinking things. He wondered what high school crush slighted Cassidy in his pursuit of community theater. Whatever had happened, Ice Queen certainly knew how to hold a grudge.
“Thanks, Sara.” Jase gave her his best celebrity smile and followed Cassidy’s exit route, pulling the door firmly shut behind him. Cassidy was nearly to the barn and Jase lengthened his stride to catch up. Lush green grass spread before him, but it was sparse and matted from footsteps. He had a feeling this grass was wild, and not the result of seed or sod. No one tried to force this grass to be something it wasn’t, and he loved that about it. Jase inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the clean, humid air. After a lifetime of living in southern California, he hadn’t expected to notice the humidity, but Oklahoma was definitely muggier than he was used to.
He fell into step beside Cassidy, sidestepping a muddy patch in the grass. “So you hate actors, huh?”
Cassidy barely glanced at him. “They’re arrogant, self-involved narcissists.”
“You’ve known me five minutes.”
“Sometimes that’s all the time it takes.”
Jase barely held back a chuckle. She was certainly spunky. He’d met his fair share of women in Hollywood—everyone from simpering, spineless socialites who hung on his every word, to women who pretended disdain in a thinly-veiled attempt to hold his interest. Cassidy was different, though. He could tell his presence here really did infuriate her.
She didn’t like him, and it was unexpectedly refreshing.
A horse with a dark brown coat snorted as they walked by a pasture that smelled strongly of hay and manure. The barn’s red paint was chipped and peeling, but the two-story structure complete with a hayloft held a certain charm.
They rounded the barn, bringing the bunkhouse into view. Jase wrinkled his nose. He hadn’t expected it to be so close to the pastures and hoped the smell wasn’t as strong inside. Would his character even notice if it was, or was that the sort of thing you became nose blind to?
The bunkhouse was nothing special, just a one-story building with gray siding, a pitched roof, and a rather boxy front with windows on either side of the front door and no porch or eaves. A four-foot square cement slab had been poured in front of the door, presumably to keep the mud and dirt to a minimum. The lack of frills and decorations made it obvious men lived here.
“Cassidy,” a voice called. A man strode across the grass toward them in a worn gray cowboy hat and dark brown boots, with the bronzed skin of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors.
“Mason.” Cassidy ignored Jase and changed directions, meeting the man halfway and giving him a hug. Mason held onto Cassidy a moment longer than was appropriate, his eyes lingering on her face as she pulled away.
“Your mama just radioed me.” Mason held out a hand toward Jase, eyes hooded with distrust. “Mason Crenshaw. You’ll be shadowing me while you’re here.”
Jase took the hand in a firm shake. He’d win Mason over soon enough. “Jase Larson. Nice to meet you.”
Cassidy took a step back, her eyes narrowed as she glanced back and forth between the two men. “You knew about this?”
Uh-oh. Jase watched in interest as Mason scratched his forehead, tilting the cowboy hat back. “Not for long. Your dad just talked to me last night.”
Cassidy’s jaw clenched. She whirled and strode back across the grass without another word.
“Cassidy!” Mason called.
She ignored him, heading for a grazing horse in a nearby pasture. Her hair bounced with every step, a few strands slipping out of the haphazard bun. Huh. Maybe someone had melted the Ice Queen’s heart after all. The thought made Jase uncomfortable.
Mason let out a curse, slapping his cowboy hat against one leg so that dust billowed up in puffs. “Knew she’d be mad when she found out, but Randy asked me not to say anything.”
Jase’s estimation of the man went up a notch. “I really appreciate the discretion.”
Mason’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever the boss wants, the boss gets.”
Okay then. Jase cleared his throat. “Well, the boss’s daughter certainly seems to dislike me, so let’s hope he doesn’t decide it’s time for me to leave. Are you and Cassidy…?”
Mason shoved his hat back on his head and pulled it low over his eyes, ignoring the question. “Well, come inside and I’ll show you around.”
Ah—it was like that, then. Mason wanted more, but was either too scared to make a move, or had already been rejected. Poor guy.
The bunkhouse pretty much looked like the pictures Jase had found online while researching. The door opened into a large living room with a multitude of couches and a large television on one wall. Jase had expected a mess, but was surprised at how clean the place was—no clutter, and no dirt on the floor. Boots were neatly lined up next to the front door.
“Where are all the men?” Jase asked, looking around the empty living room.
“A few cows fell sick today.” Mason walked through a set of sliding barn doors that led into an open kitchen with a long dining room table. “Mealtimes are at six, noon, and six. You’re welcome to anything in that fridge or those cupboards if you get hungry. On days you’ll be out on the range, you pack your own lunch before heading out.”
Jase’s entire body tingled with anticipation. This was so different from any role he’d ever played. Maybe it would be the role that finally helped him regain the fire he’d once fel
t. He’d shadowed soldiers and doctors and once even a forensic scientist for roles, but never a cowboy. This life overflowed with long days and hard work, but something about the simplicity appealed to him.
They left the kitchen and walked down a narrow hallway. The communal bathroom featured six of everything, and the bunk room held two rows of bunk beds, enough to sleep twenty.
Mason pointed to a top bunk near the middle of one row. “That’s your bed. Randy said you don’t want special treatment, so don’t expect any from me.”
Jase raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Do all the ranch hands live here?”
“No, just the temporary hires. There’s another bunkhouse on the other side of the barn with more private rooms for the permanent employees, and some of the guys have families and live in town. I’m in the other bunkhouse if you need me. I’ll pick you up after breakfast.”
“Thanks, Mason.” Jase gave the man a firm handshake.
He grunted, withdrawing quickly. “I better go make sure Cassidy’s okay.” He disappeared out the door, leaving Jase alone in the room.
Maybe Mason and Cassidy weren’t together, but it seemed like Mason certainly wanted to be. Jase almost felt bad about putting his mentor in the doghouse. Almost. Something in the flash of Cassidy’s eyes made Jase long to figure her out.
His phone rang, startling him from his thoughts. His heart dropped when he saw who it was—Mother. She’d never been “mama” like Cassidy called Sara, or even “mom.” Jase wanted to ignore the call, but knew if he didn’t answer she’d keep bugging him until he did. Maybe even send some of her people to hunt him down. So he answered the call with a reluctant, “Hello, Mother.”
“You can’t seriously be in Oklahoma right now.” No greeting, no ‘hey, how are you?’ She always did have a way of cutting straight to the point.
“I’m researching my new role.” And on his own dime, too. Production didn’t mind funding a week or two of research, which was what he’d done in the beginning. But he couldn’t embrace a role in such a short amount of time. Slowly his research had stretched from a few weeks to a few months—eccentric, even by Hollywood standards, but his performances showed the effort he put in.
“Research is a week. Delaying production so you can shovel manure for four months is inexcusable.”
Jase’s stomach twisted. The producer had been annoyed, but agreed to Jase’s terms. How had she found out? “You aren’t involved in this film, so I don’t see why it matters.” There was no pleasing her—she wanted the Academy Award-winning performance, but it annoyed her endlessly when he put in the time.
“I am now. Clearly, you can’t be left to your own devices on this one. Production starts in a month. If you haven’t immersed yourself into your role by then, we’ll recast it.” And the phone clicked dead.
CHAPTER THREE
Cassidy stormed away from the bunkhouse, fury making her steps forceful. She would not turn around and watch Jase walk inside, however well he filled out his jeans. Looks weren’t worth much if the person’s soul was ugly.
She couldn’t believe she’d have to put up with that … that … that actor for the next four months. Really, when it came down to it, she couldn’t think of a worse word to call him.
Jase didn’t seem to have any idea that she was Seth’s ex-fiancée. She didn’t know why she was surprised that Seth had never mentioned her to his best friend, but the knowledge unexpectedly hurt.
Whatever. If Jase was best friends with a jerk like Seth, then he couldn’t be a very good guy. If he expected her to act starstruck and to fall all over him, he could think again. She would spend the next four months making sure Jase knew just how unimportant he was. And she’d start by acting like he didn’t exist.
The darkening clouds mirrored her mood, and wind rustled the leaves of the trees. She kicked a dirt clod across the grass, then stomped up the side steps and into the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind her.
Her mama looked up in surprise. She held a peach in one hand and a knife in the other, expertly skinning it. “You’re back already?”
Cassidy grunted. She yanked open the fridge and pulled out the makings for a salad—her mother provided one at nearly every meal, and she was sure this one would be no different. She needed to keep her hands busy.
“Where’s Jase?” her mama asked.
“At the bunkhouse.”
Mama dropped the now sliced peach into the bowl and washed her hands, then turned to scowl at Cassidy. “I thought I told you to show him around.”
Since no one had told her about their guest, Cassidy didn’t feel especially bad about reneging on that promise. “He’s a big boy—I’m sure he can figure it out.”
“I raised you better than this. Where’s your sense of hospitality?”
“It must’ve been shocked out of me.” Cassidy rinsed the carrots, then slammed them down on the cutting board and picked up a knife. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”
Mama took a deep breath and closed her eyes. No doubt she was praying for patience. “Your father and I made what we felt was the best decision for the ranch. We knew if we told you an actor would be staying here it’d upset you, and figured there was no use in poking the sleeping bull until we had to.”
Cassidy flinched. “Shawn knew.”
“Since he’s the one who told us about the opportunity, yes.”
“And what about Tanner? Did you tell him, too?”
Mama fiddled with the dishrag, not meeting Cassidy’s eyes. “It might’ve come up when we spoke to him on the phone a few days ago.”
Betrayal stabbed at Cassidy, and she chopped the carrots furious. “So the only child you didn’t tell was the one who actually lives here.”
“Careful, or you’re gonna take off a finger.”
The garage door opened, then closed. Her dad’s off-key whistle and the shuffling of boots being removed floated in from the mud room. A moment later, he entered the kitchen. His graying hair was matted down from a day spent wearing a cowboy hat, his flannel shirt dusted with dirt. He paused when he saw them.
“Well, aren’t you a bunch of sour faces to come home to.” He leaned down and kissed Mama, then turned on the faucet and washed his hands.
“Cassidy’s met our new house guest.” Mama raised an eyebrow meaningfully.
“Thanks for that, by the way.” Cassidy dumped the carrots over the greens and grabbed a cucumber. She was going to have serious words with both of her brothers. “It was a fantastic surprise.”
“We aren’t in a position to be turning down good money.” Dad grabbed a towel and dried his hands, his gaze steady and unyielding. “We’ve lost a lot of cattle lately, and this way we can avoid another bank loan.”
Cassidy thought of Anabeth and her face heated uncomfortably. Her dad was making a business decision, and Cassidy should’ve done the same. She knew the cattle had been sick—that the ranch desperately needed money. But it didn’t make this any easier. “I hate this.”
“Give the boy a chance,” Dad said. “Just because Seth left you high and dry doesn’t mean the entire profession is of the same caliber.”
“I know it’s hard and probably brings up memories you’d rather keep buried,” Mama said. “But I expect you to keep a civil tongue while Jase is here. We need this.”
“He’s in a movie with him.” Cassidy spit out the words, her mouth bitter with the taste. “Anabeth Collins dropped by the bakery today and told me. He’s been going on and on in interviews about how much Jase helped him, and how the two of them are best friends.”
The kitchen fell silent. Her parents looked back and forth between each other, their eyes filled with anxiety.
“Sweetie, we had no idea,” Mama said.
“He reminds me of him—same arrogance, same smirk, same attitude.” Cassidy thought of the way he’d confidently proclaimed he was a method actor, so like Seth. She had no doubt that after a day on the ranch, Jase would prove as feebly committed to his craft, too.
“I am sorry about that,” Dad said.
“So you’ll send him home?” Cassidy held the knife over the cucumber, her chest filling with hope.
“No. It doesn’t change how things are now.”
Cassidy sagged against the counter, dropping the knife. For her, it changed everything.
“Shawn really likes him,” Mama said quietly. “Said he was real gentlemanlike on the cruise. Very down-to-earth.”
Cassidy seriously doubted that. She didn’t believe Shawn would purposefully try to hurt her, but her brother also hadn’t been around much the last few years. He had no idea the extent of damage Seth had done.
Twenty-six days. That’s how far she was from what should’ve been her first wedding anniversary. She was supposed to be in California with Seth, cooking him dinner and struggling to keep the apartment clean with a rambunctious six-month-old constantly creating messes. Her throat tightened and she curled her fingers toward her palms. Would it have been a boy or girl? Would he or she have been crawling yet?
She tried to remind herself that it was better this way. For the first time in her life, she was following her dreams. She never would’ve started the bakery if she’d gotten married.
The kitchen door swung open, and Jase’s tall, muscular build filled the frame. Seth always had a knack for barging in on conversations as well. Jase shut the door and paused, looking around the room. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?”
Cassidy glared at him, then returned her focus to the cucumber. Oh no, he wasn’t interrupting much—just her life.
“Of course not,” Mama said, her voice falsely bright. “We were just having a chat. Dinner’s nearly ready.”
Never Say Match (No Match for Love Book 9) Page 2
