Tempting the Rancher

by Brenda Jackson

  Dillon came around and sat on the edge of his desk to face his brother. “Not sure if you knew it, but Carl Newsome passed away a few years ago.”

  Bane shook his head. “No, I didn’t know.”

  “So you haven’t seen Crystal since the Newsomes sent her away?”

  “No. You were right. I didn’t have anything to offer her at the time. I was a hothead and Trouble was my middle name. She deserved better, and I was willing to make something of myself to give her better.”

  Dillon nodded. “It’s been years, Bane. The last time I talked to Emily Newsome was when I heard Carl had died. I called to offer my condolences. I asked about Crystal and Emily said Crystal was doing fine. She was working on her master’s degree at Harvard with plans to get a doctorate.”

  Bane didn’t say anything as he listened to what Dillon was saying. “That doesn’t surprise me. Crystal was always smart in school.”

  Dillon stared at his brother, wondering how Bane had figured that out when most of the time he and Crystal were playing hooky. “I don’t want to upset you, Bane. But you don’t know what Crystal’s feelings are for you. The two of you were teens back then. First love doesn’t always mean last love. Although you might still love her, for all you know, she might have moved on. Have you ever considered the possibility that she might be involved with someone else?”

  Bane leaned back in his chair. “I don’t believe that. Crystal and I had an understanding. We have an unbreakable bond.”

  “But that was years ago. You just said you haven’t seen her since that day Carl sent her away. For all you know, she could be married by now.”

  Bane shook his head. “Crystal wouldn’t marry anyone else.”

  Dillon lifted a brow. “And how can you be so sure of that?”

  Bane held his brother’s stare. “Because she’s already married, Dil. Crystal is married to me, and I think it’s time to go claim my wife.”

  * * *

  His Until Midnight

  Reese Ryan

  Reese Ryan writes sexy, emotional love stories served with a heaping side of family drama.

  Reese is a native Ohioan with deep Tennessee roots. She endured many long, hot car trips to family reunions in Memphis via a tiny clown car loaded with cousins.

  Connect with Reese via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or reeseryan.com. Join her VIP Readers Lounge at bit.ly/VIPReadersLounge. Check out her YouTube show where she chats with fellow authors at bit.ly/ReeseRyanChannel.

  Books by Reese Ryan

  Harlequin Desire

  The Bourbon Brothers

  Savannah’s Secret

  The Billionaire’s Legacy

  Engaging the Enemy

  A Reunion of Rivals

  Waking Up Married

  Dynasties: Secrets of the A-List

  Seduced by Second Chances

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  To Johnathan Royal, Stephanie Perkins, Jennifer Copeland, Denise Stokes, Sharon Blount, Stephanie Douglas-Quick and all of the amazing readers in the Reese Ryan VIP Readers Lounge on Facebook. Seriously, y’all rock! I appreciate your readership, engagement, enthusiasm and continued support. Thank you to each and every one of you!

  To my infinitely patient and ever-insightful editor, Charles Griemsman, thank you for all you do.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 1

  Tessa Noble stared at the configuration of high and low balls scattered on the billiard table.

  “I’m completely screwed,” she muttered, sizing up her next move. After a particularly bad break and distracted play, she was losing badly.

  But how on earth could she be expected to concentrate on billiards when her best friend Ryan Bateman was wearing a fitted performance T-shirt that highlighted every single pectoral muscle and his impressive biceps. He could have, at the very least, worn a shirt that fit, instead of one that was a size too small, as a way to purposely enhance his muscles. And the view when he bent over the table in a pair of broken-in jeans that hugged his firm ass like they were made for it...

  How in the hell was she expected to play her best?

  “You’re not screwed,” Ryan said in a deep, husky voice that was as soothing as a warm bath. Three parts sex-in-a-glass and one part confidence out the wazoo.

  Tessa’s cheeks heated, inexplicably. Like she was a middle schooler giggling over double entendres and sexual innuendo.

  “Maybe not, but you’d sure as hell like to be screwed by your best friend over there,” Gail Walker whispered in her ear before taking another sip of her beer.

  Tessa elbowed her friend in the ribs, and the woman giggled, nearly shooting beer out of her nose.

  Gail, always a little too direct, lacked a filter after a second drink.

  Tessa walked around the billiard table, pool cue in hand, assessing her options again while her opponent huffed restlessly. Finally, she shook her head and sighed. “You obviously see something I don’t, because I don’t see a single makeable shot.”

  Ryan sidled closer, his movements reminiscent of a powerful jungle cat stalking prey. His green eyes gleamed even in the dim light of the bar.

  “You’re underestimating yourself, Tess,” Ryan murmured. “Just shut out all the noise, all the doubts, and focus.”

  She studied the table again, tugging her lower lip between her teeth, before turning back to him. “Ryan, I clearly don’t have a shot.”

  “Go for the four ball.” He nodded toward the purple ball wedged between two of her opponent’s balls.

  Tessa sucked in a deep breath and gripped the pool cue with one hand. She pressed her other hand to the table, formed a bridge and positioned the stick between her thumb and forefinger, gliding it back and forth.

  But the shot just wasn’t there.

  “I can’t make this shot.” She turned to look at him. “Maybe you could, but I can’t.”

  “That’s because you’re too tight, and your stance is all wrong.” Ryan studied her for a moment, then placed his hands on either side of her waist and shifted her a few inches. “Now you’re lined up with the ball. That should give you a better sight line.”

  Tessa’s eyes drifted closed momentarily as she tried to focus on the four ball, rather than the lingering heat from Ryan’s hands. Or his nearness as he hovered over her.

  She opened them again and slid the cue back and forth between her fingers, deliberating the position and pace of her shot.

  “Wait.” Ryan leaned over beside her. He slipped an arm around her waist and gripped the stick a few inches above where she clenched it. He stared straight ahead at the ball, his face inches from hers. “Loosen your grip on the cue. This is a finesse shot, so don’t try to muscle it. Just take it easy and smack the cue ball right in the center, and you’ve got this. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Tessa nodded, staring at the center of the white ball. She released a long breath, pulled back the cue and hit the cue ball dead in the center, nice and easy.

  The cue ball connected with the four ball with a smack. The purple ball rolled toward the corner pocket and slowed, teetering on the edge. But it had just enough momentum to carry it over into the pocket.

  “Yes!” Tessa squealed, smacking Ryan’s raised palm to give him a h
igh five. “You’re amazing. You actually talked me through it.”

  “You did all the work. I was just your cheering section.” He winked in that way that made her tummy flutter.

  “Well, thank you.” She smiled. “I appreciate it.”

  “What are best friends for?” He shrugged, picking up his beer and taking a sip from the bottle.

  “Thought I was playing Tess,” Roy Jensen grumbled. “Nobody said anything about y’all tag-teaming me.”

  “Oh, quit complaining, you old coot.” Tessa stared down her opponent. “I always turn a blind eye when you ask for spelling help when we’re playing Scrabble.”

  Roy’s cheeks tinged pink, and he mumbled under his breath as Tessa moved around the table, deciding which shot to take next. She moved toward the blue two ball.

  “Hey, Ryan.” Lana, the way-too-friendly barmaid, sidled up next to him, her chest thrust forward and a smile as wide as the Rio Grande spread across her face. “Thought you might want another beer.”

  “Why thank you, kindly.” Ryan tipped an imaginary hat and returned the grin as he accepted the bottle.

  Tessa clenched her jaw, a burning sensation in her chest. She turned to her friend, whispering so neither Lana nor Ryan could hear her.

  “Why doesn’t she just take his head and smash it between the surgically enhanced boobs her ex-boyfriend gave her as a consolation prize? It’d be a lot easier for both of them.”

  “Watch it there, girl. You’re beginning to sound an awful lot like a jealous girlfriend.” Gail could barely contain her grin.

  “There’s nothing to be jealous of. Ryan and I are just friends. You know that.”

  “Best friends,” her friend pointed out, as she studied Ryan flirting with Lana. “But let’s face it. You’re two insanely attractive people. Are you really going to try and convince me that neither of you has ever considered—”

  “We haven’t.” Tessa took her shot, missing badly. It was a shot she should’ve hit, even without Ryan’s help. But she was too busy eavesdropping on his conversation with Lana.

  “Well, for a person who doesn’t have any romantic interest in her best friend, you seem particularly interested in whether or not he’s flirting with the big-boobed barmaid.” Gail shrugged when Tessa gave her the stink eye. “What? You know it’s true.”

  Tessa scowled at her friend’s words and the fact that Roy was taking advantage of her distraction. He easily sank one ball, then another. With no more striped balls left on the table, Roy had a clear shot at the eight ball.

  He should be able to make that shot blindfolded.

  “Well?” Gail prodded her.

  “I’m not jealous of Lana. I just think Ryan could do better. That he should do better than to fall for the calculated ploy of a woman who has dollar signs in her eyes. Probably angling for butt implants this time.”

  Gail giggled. “And why would he want a fake ass when he was mere inches from the real deal?” She nodded toward Tessa’s behind, a smirk on her face.

  Tessa was fully aware that she’d inherited her generous curves from her mother. She was just as clear about Ryan Bateman’s obliviousness to them. To him, she was simply one of the guys. But then again, the comfy jeans and plaid button-down shirts that filled her closet didn’t do much to highlight her assets.

  Hadn’t that been the reason she’d chosen such a utilitarian wardrobe in the first place?

  “Dammit!” Roy banged his pool cue on the wooden floor, drawing their attention to him. He’d scratched on the eight ball.

  Tessa grinned. “I won.”

  “Because I scratched.” Roy’s tone made it clear that he felt winning by default was nothing to be proud of.

  “A win’s a win, Jensen.” She wriggled her fingers, her palm open. “Pay up.”

  “You won? Way to go, Tess. I told you that you had this game in the bag.” Ryan, suddenly beside her, wrapped a big, muscular arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a half hug.

  “Well, at least one of us believed in me.” Tessa counted the four wrinkled five-dollar bills Roy stuffed in her palm begrudgingly.

  “Always have, always will.” He beamed at her and took another swig of his beer.

  Tessa tried to ignore the warmth in her chest that filtered down her spine and fanned into areas she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  Because they were friends. And friends didn’t get all...whatever it was she was feeling...over one another. Not even when they looked and smelled good enough to eat.

  * * *

  Tessa Noble always smelled like citrus and sunshine. Reminded him of warm summer picnics at the lake. Ryan couldn’t peel an orange or slice a lemon without thinking of her and smiling.

  There was no reason for his arm to still be wrapped around her shoulder other than the sense of comfort he derived from being this close to her.

  “Take your hands off my sister, Bateman.” Tessa’s brother Tripp’s expression was stony as he entered the bar. As if he was about five minutes away from kicking Ryan’s ass.

  “Tessa just beat your man, Roy, here.” Ryan didn’t move. Nor did he acknowledge Tripp’s veiled threat.

  The three of them had been friends forever, though it was Tessa who was his best friend. According to their parents, their friendship was born the moment they first met. Their bond had only gotten stronger over the years. Still, he’d had to assure Tripp on more than one occasion that his relationship with Tess was purely platonic.

  Relationships weren’t his gift. He’d made peace with that, particularly since the dissolution of his engagement to Sabrina Calhoun little more than a year ago. Tripp had made it clear, in a joking-not-joking manner, that despite their longtime friendship, he’d punch his lights out if Ryan ever hurt his sister.

  He couldn’t blame the guy. Tess definitely deserved better.

  “Way to go, Tess.” A wide grin spread across Tripp’s face. He gave his sister a fist bump, followed by a simulated explosion.

  The Nobles’ signature celebratory handshake.

  “Thanks, Tripp.” Tessa casually stepped away from him.

  Ryan drank his beer, captivated by her delectable scent which still lingered in the air around him.

  “You look particularly proud of yourself today, big brother.” Tessa raised an eyebrow, her arms folded.

  The move inadvertently framed and lifted Tessa’s rather impressive breasts. Another feature he tried hard, as her best friend, to not notice. But then again, he was a guy, with guy parts and a guy brain.

  Ryan quickly shifted his gaze to Tripp’s. “You still pumped about being a bachelor in the Texas Cattleman’s Club charity auction?”

  Tripp grinned like a prize hog in the county fair, his light brown eyes—identical to his sister’s—twinkling merrily. “Alexis Slade says I’ll fetch a mint.”

  “Hmm...” Ryan grinned. “Tess, what do you think your brother here will command on the auction block?”

  “Oh, I’d say four maybe even five...dollars.” Tessa, Ryan, Gail and Roy laughed hysterically, much to Tripp’s chagrin.

  Tripp folded his arms over his chest. “I see you all have jokes tonight.”

  “You know we’re just kidding.” Ryan, who had called next, picked up a pool cue as Roy gathered the balls and racked them. “After all, I’m the one who suggested you to Alexis.”

  “And I may never forgive you for creating this monster.” Tessa scowled at Ryan playfully.

  “My bad, I wasn’t thinking.” He chuckled.

  “What I want to know is why on earth you didn’t volunteer yourself?” Gail asked. “You’re a moderately good-looking guy, if you like that sort of thing.” She laughed.

  She was teasing him, not flirting. Though with Gail it was often hard to tell.

  Ryan shrugged. “I’m not interested in parading across the stage for a bunch of desperate
women to bid on, like I’m a side of beef.” He glanced apologetically at his friend, Tripp. “No offense, man.”

  “None taken.” Tripp grinned proudly, poking a thumb into his chest. “This ‘side of beef’ is chomping at the bit to be taken for a spin by one of the lovely ladies.”

  Tessa elbowed Ryan in the gut, and an involuntary “oomph” sound escaped. “Watch it, Bateman. We aren’t desperate. We’re civic-minded women whose only interest is the betterment of our community.”

  There was silence for a beat before Tessa and Gail dissolved into laughter.

  Tessa was utterly adorable, giggling like a schoolgirl. The sound—rooted in his earliest memories of her—instantly conjured a smile that began deep down in his gut.

  He studied her briefly. Her curly, dark brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail and her smooth, golden brown skin practically glowed. She was wearing her typical winter attire: a long-sleeved plaid shirt, jeans which hid her curvy frame rather than highlighting it, and the newest addition to her ever-growing sneaker collection.

  “You’re a brave man.” Ryan shifted his attention to Tripp as he leaned down and lined his stick up with the cue ball. He drew it back and forth between his forefinger and thumb. “If these two are any indication—” he nodded toward Tess and Gail “—those women at the auction are gonna eat you alive.”

  “One can only hope.” Tripp wriggled his brows and held up his beer, one corner of his mouth curled in a smirk.

  Ryan shook his head, then struck the white cue ball hard. He relished the loud cracking sound that indicated a solid break. The cue ball smashed through the triangular formation of colorful balls, and they rolled or spun across the table. A high and a low ball dropped into the pockets.

  “Your choice.” Ryan nodded toward Tessa.

  “Low.” Hardly a surprise. Tessa always chose low balls whenever she had first choice. She walked around the table, her sneakers squeaking against the floor, as she sized up her first shot.

  “You know I’m only teasing you, Tripp. I think it’s pretty brave of you to put yourself out there like that. I’d be mortified by the thought of anyone bidding on me.” She leaned over the table, her sights on the blue two ball before glancing up at her brother momentarily. “In fact, I’m proud of you. The money you’ll help raise for the Pancreatic Cancer Research Foundation will do a world of good.”