by Regan Black
Mia’s dark eyes narrowed, making him feel smaller than a bug under a microscope. “Go on.”
“Part of the gig at the Triple R is jumping whenever Selina snaps her fingers. Drives Asher nuts,” he added. “The rest of the guys, too. She’s a huge flirt and sometimes gets a little too familiar.”
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter. My point is Asher sent me to her place to install new fixtures in her outdoor kitchen.”
“Why does she even live on the Triple R?”
“The views and proximity to the Colton Oil offices,” Jarvis replied. “That’s what she tells us, anyway.”
“The views.” Her tone was snarly and her gaze raked over him rather than the nearby mountains. “She has no right to touch you or anyone without permission.”
She studied her son as if imagining him subjected to Selina’s unwelcome advances. It was a strange glimpse into that theory that mothers always saw their children as babies. Not that he had any experience of an adult relationship with a mother figure, having lost his own mom, Christy Colton, when he was still a baby-faced kid.
“She got off the phone with Regina and came at me, pretty much demanding I take her to the party.”
“Why you?”
He didn’t blame her for being suspicious. “She wants eye candy—her words—to flaunt in Regina’s face. For friends, they seem to be ultracompetitive in a nasty way.”
“They are.” Mia rolled her eyes. “That actually makes sense.”
“I only said yes to get close to your dad. I could warn him, or try to catch Regina making a threat.” And if he was super lucky, Selina would spill more details about the generations of history of the landownership or how he might get his hands on the original deeds from the late 1800s.
“You can’t confront her,” Mia protested. “You’re just as likely to put yourself and us in danger if you do that.”
Was she kidding? “Didn’t you hear me? I can get a message to your dad. She’d never know. Someone has to stand up for you. You’re out here alone and scared and—”
“I’m not helpless,” she snapped, cutting him off. “I’ll leave the ranch tomorrow morning. Tonight, if you drive me back to my car.”
He groaned and pushed a hand through his hair. At least the stick was out of her reach while she was looking so murderous. “I don’t want to drive you away, I want to help.” Hadn’t that been obvious from the start?
“Confronting Regina is the opposite of helpful,” she said, keeping her voice low for the baby’s sake. “I did my own due diligence on you today, Jarvis Colton.”
“What are you talking about?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I assumed with a name like Colton you might have a share in the ranch. Especially from the way you talk about it.”
His blood turned cold. “That matters to you?” Of course it did.
She came from money and surely expected the people around her to be in the same league. By all reports, she’d earned a fortune herself during her modeling years. Just last night, she’d openly confessed that she’d appreciated her ex-husband’s financial success, which had added to her net worth by marriage. Naturally, a man like him, a typical working cowboy with a middle-class bank balance, wasn’t good enough.
“I couldn’t figure out why I’ve never heard of you or seen you with your cousins,” she said, dodging his question.
Their blood relation was not even close enough for the triplets to be called distant cousins, according to Payne.
“Why would you have heard of me?” Her stratospheric social circle wasn’t even within sight of his. He resented the old hurt and sense of inadequacy that came bubbling to the surface. He’d really thought he was past this.
“Mustang Valley is a relatively small town.” She peered at him through her lashes. “It’s not like being a Smith with an address in Los Angeles or New York City.”
“I’ll have to take your word.” He wasn’t well traveled; aside from a wild weekend in Cabo San Lucas, he hadn’t been anywhere more exotic than Las Vegas.
“We’re only a couple of years apart.”
“Make your point, Mia.” He couldn’t take much more. Wanting a woman who was making it crystal clear she’d never have lowered herself to speak with him under normal circumstances. He’d been infatuated, instantly attracted and she’d merely been in need. He was dangerously close to beating himself with that stick she kept by the door. He’d liked the woman he’d met in the warming hut, but maybe that just wasn’t the real Mia Graves.
She settled back on the chair, the baby resting on her shoulder. “Why did you change careers so drastically?”
“It was time for a change.” He forced the words through clenched teeth and gracelessly changed the subject. “Once it’s dark, I’ll hike back to your car and use that for as long as you choose to stay here.”
“Why, Jarvis?”
“Because you need transportation,” he said, purposely misunderstanding her question. He didn’t owe her his life story or detailed explanations. Maybe once people saw him in Mia’s car, Regina would be pushed to do something to incriminate herself.
Mia glared at him. He didn’t think she realized how sexy that expression was. She definitely didn’t know how it heated his blood. “You’ll have the truck whether you like it or not,” he added. “It’s the smart move.”
She patted the baby’s back gently while she sipped at her milkshake. “What about Selina? You can’t take her to a party at my father’s house in my car.”
“She told me I’m driving her car.”
“Told you...” Mia cocked her head, then burst into merry laughter. The baby flailed his hands happily in response. They were the cutest pair. And cute had never been one of his goals or interests.
“I won’t go if it bothers you,” he said. Irritated as he was, he wouldn’t like himself if he purposely did something to upset her.
“I’d think it would bother you to be objectified and used,” she said.
“Says the supermodel.”
“Former less-than-super model,” she corrected him. “Who knows what she’s talking about.”
“I don’t care what Selina or Regina or anyone else thinks of me. If I go, I’ll be in the house. I can talk to your stepmom, search for something useful, warn your dad. Whatever you need.”
“And if Regina catches you, you’re in danger.”
“I’m not as fragile as I look,” he joked. Humor was his safe zone during sticky conversations. Better to joke than let out any ugly or real feelings. “Take your time and think about it. I can cancel.”
“Not if you want any peace,” Mia pointed out.
“Let me worry about it.” He picked up his milkshake and turned to watch the horizon. “I can handle Selina better than most.”
* * *
“I bet you can,” Mia quipped. “She’d probably enjoy it if you handled her.” In Selina’s shoes, Mia would delight in being handled by Jarvis. Good grief, she had to get a handle on these wayward thoughts and hormones. She hadn’t felt this kind of wild, uncontrollable attraction in...ever.
He shot her another annoyed glance, as if he had hard things to say and he didn’t think she could bear to hear them. She’d offended him somehow. Unable to pinpoint her error, she didn’t know exactly how to smooth it over. She really should let him be the one to worry about that shark in designer clothing. There were more important people for her to worry about. She finished off her milkshake and tried to find a lighter topic of conversation while Silas dozed in her lap.
The weather was trite and she didn’t know enough about cattle to carry that subject. “You should go to the party,” she said, cycling back to pertinent matters. “I’ll think about it and let you know where to look for anything incriminating in the house. Though, if Selina’s agenda is to rub you in Regina’s face, she likel
y won’t let go of you all night.”
“Not fragile.” He knocked his fist lightly to his chest and her eyes drank in the motion.
No, the man didn’t look the least bit fragile. He was as firm and sturdy as the ground beneath them. Of course, the ground itself had proven vulnerable during the earthquake a few months ago. A philosopher might find some correlation there, that the world and everyone in it was subject to life-altering change at any moment. Completely breakable under the right pressure and circumstance.
She was tired of feeling weak and unsettled. Tired of Regina applying pressure that forced this awkward circumstance. Mia would much rather find a way to explore Jarvis’s considerable strength and the tenderness underneath it. Every kindness he showed her, every time he held her son, she felt drawn in, as if he pulled her by an invisible string. Worse, she liked the sensation.
Because it was new, or because it was him? The two were inextricably intertwined. Jarvis was new in her life but what he made her feel was tantalizing, uncharted terrain. She wanted to dig in and find the source of the hot sizzle in her bloodstream when she merely thought about him. Her marriage hadn’t been passionless, but it hadn’t had this. Jarvis wasn’t out here with her because it made him look better. He wasn’t looking for an inside track to her father. He looked at her, at her son, with a fresh sincerity she hadn’t realized her life had been missing.
“More than searching for dirt on Regina, I’d feel better if you can confirm that my dad’s all right.”
“Consider it done,” he promised. As he moved closer, the last rays of sunlight set the sky on fire behind him. “Do you want me to give him the video?”
She couldn’t even imagine how that would be possible. Regina knew how to keep her father isolated, even in a crowded room. Always at his ear, hovering while whispering endearments, hanging on his arm and his every word. “We have time to think about it,” she said, avoiding that ugly minefield for tonight.
“You really miss your dad.”
How did Jarvis, basically a stranger, see right through her? She smiled down at her baby, too raw to look at the man crouched at her side. “I’ve missed him for years. Having a child of my own only makes it harder to understand why he chooses her over me every time. It wasn’t like this with my mom. They were a team, sure, they were the authority, but I was part of it. Included, even when I didn’t get my way. I admit I struggled with the adjustment when he brought Regina home. I was a brat.”
“You were a kid,” Jarvis soothed.
“A bratty kid,” she said, compromising. “Yes, it hurt seeing another woman where my mom used to be. Worse was that he wouldn’t talk to me like a miniature adult anymore. I didn’t want to break them up. Not really. I was fighting against being cut out.” She sniffled, tracing the shape of her son’s tiny fist. “And it happened, anyway. Fighting so hard only brought it on faster. This entire situation is just the latest battle in a war for my father’s attention and affection.”
“Based on what I’ve heard from you and Selina, Regina is warring with you for Norton’s influence and money,” Jarvis said. “And she fights dirty.”
“You’re right,” Mia allowed. “Maybe that’s why I keep losing ground.” She shook her head, embarrassment creeping in. “I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you. Sorry. And I thought pregnancy hormones were bad,” she joked. “I’m learning motherhood is full of pitfalls.” She stroked Silas’s perfect ear. “I look at him and can’t imagine putting him second to anyone.”
“Because you’re a good mother,” Jarvis said, his tone gentle. He brushed a tear from her cheek.
“My dad was a good father,” she countered. His tune had changed when Regina showed up and twisted all of her childish mistakes into character flaws that disappointed him. “He provided and nurtured. He gave me a head for business and urged me to use it.”
“You did that.”
She sniffled again. “Pardon me.” She blinked rapidly, willing this meltdown to stop before she lost all control.
Jarvis walked into the bunkhouse, returning with a packet of tissues from the diaper bag.
“Thanks.” She blotted her eyes and runny nose, wishing she could recapture the cool, self-assured inner strength she’d enjoyed before her pregnancy. “I’m not always such a mess.”
To her relief, he didn’t offer an opinion on that. How could he? They’d known each other for only a few strange days.
“There has to be a way to make Regina pay for this mess she created,” he said. “Between the two of us, we’ll figure it out.”
She believed him and couldn’t decide if that belief was rooted more in fantasy or desperation. “Why did you walk away from your career to come work here?”
Jarvis’s chest rose and fell on a deep sigh. Sitting down, he leaned back against the pillar and stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles.
It wasn’t a particularly sexy pose, but to her he was temptation personified. She could hardly blame Selina for insisting on a date. Mia had found Jarvis’s headshot as well as pictures of him in a suit for a community fund-raiser kickoff in town. Selina had chosen superb eye candy for Regina’s party.
“Several reasons, starting with a need for change,” he was saying. “I was doing well enough, but it was the same old thing day after day. Meetings and conference calls, maintaining an image that didn’t feel right.”
The words sounded rehearsed and she wasn’t buying it. “You could’ve done anything, but you came to this specific ranch. A Colton ranch,” she said, pointedly.
“True. And I leaned on the connection, used my last name to win over Asher. Payne likes to pretend the three of us aren’t actually related to him and his kids. His children aren’t as bad, though.”
“That’s silly. You are related.” His gaze locked with hers. Oops. She hadn’t meant to reveal just how personal her search had become. “Small town,” she said as breezily as possible. “Both your family and his have deep roots. Any other conclusion is impractical.”
“Well, Payne’s an arrogant jerk,” Jarvis said.
The cavalier response wasn’t as convincing as he probably intended. This issue of family mattered to him. “Being excluded hurts,” she said.
“What hurt more was being dumped with an aunt who didn’t want anything to do with us.”
“So you came here to get under Payne’s skin?”
“In a way.” He slid one palm across the other as if testing the calluses. “Not that he’s noticed me. I showed up here to prove Payne doesn’t know everything about me or my siblings, and discovered that I enjoy the work.”
“I get that,” she said.
“You do?”
His furrowed brow was as appealing as everything else. “Sure. I went into modeling because I needed a speedy fix for my financial crisis and discovered I enjoyed it. No, no,” she said when he opened his mouth. “You won’t divert me this time. You might love the work, but there’s more to it.”
He chuckled and the sound made her want to stretch and purr. Did he know how he affected her? How could he not? She assumed he’d seen his reflection recently. His body was formed by the work he did, rather than hours in a climate-controlled gym with precise exercises and supervision. The resulting differences had never been so clear to her.
And she really had no business comparing Jarvis to her ex-husband.
“Mia?”
She blinked and heat washed over her face, down her throat as she got caught staring at him.
“If you’re tired, go in and rest,” he suggested.
“I’m fine. Adult conversation, remember? Keep talking. I’ve been open with you. Give me whatever you’re holding back.”
He only smiled, the expression slow and indulgent. She pressed her knees together against the quivering response at her core and shifted her attention to the gentle slope of Silas’s nose.
“How about a story?” he asked.
“As long as it’s real.”
“I can only tell you what’s real to me,” he replied. “My grandpa used to tell us that we should be as wealthy as Payne and his kids. He told me that back in the 1800s, his grandfather’s brother, on the Colton Oil side of the family tree, stole the ranch from our side of the family.”
“Your grandfather, Isaiah Colton, told you this?”
His casual expression turned razor sharp. “I’m starting to hate the internet too,” he groused. “What do you know about it?”
She motioned for him to keep talking. “Tell me more.”
He raked a hand through his thick hair. “No one in the family believed Isaiah’s tall tales. He talked about gunfights and feuds that started generations ago between Colton brothers. He claimed that trickled down and is the reason Payne pretends we aren’t related.”
“Why didn’t anyone believe him?”
“It was Isaiah. He was half-drunk more often than he was stone-cold sober. I loved those stories of generations long gone. Stories about poker games, cattle rustling and shoot-outs as the area was settled, stolen and settled again. It was a lark, really. But when the dementia set in near the end of his life, he got agitated and vocal about it. And detailed. He talked to me more, insisting that I listen to what he called the facts. Granddad was convinced the Triple R belonged to us and he wanted me to find the proof and take it back.”
She was on the edge of her seat, literally, leaning forward to hear more. “Have you verified his story?”
“I’ve done some research into dementia and confabulation. It’s entirely possible he’s twisted up old Western movie plots and family rifts.”
“But you became a cowboy, anyway.”
“I did. With dementia, sometimes the oldest memories are the truest. And his details, Mia—they convinced me to try. That’s why I’m here. Near the end of his life, he told me the proof of rightful ownership of the Triple R is buried here on the ranch.
“The legend, according to Isaiah, goes that his granddad, Herman Colton, lost a chunk of prime acreage in a poker game. Herman swore to anyone who would listen that he was cheated in that game. Enough people believed him that his brother, Eugene, agreed to buy back the land for him. Isaiah told me the brothers struck the deal, but then for some reason Eugene refused to sign the acreage over to Herman. He kept it in the family, passing it down the line.”
