One Bride for Four Ranchers

I’m not like my brothers. I find spreadsheets and business plans easier to navigate than relationships. Not that we all don’t have our own hang-ups, but mine are different than Clay’s and Trey’s. And Tyler…well, he never has had a problem getting women, and he doesn’t even seem to keep his guard up constantly like Clay when he got one. But his inability to grow up ensured that he has just as much trouble, relationship-wise, as the rest of us.

Clay has never had a moment’s hesitation with women. But I have a hard time envisioning him ever settling down. He enjoys the hunt too much and has always seemed to find the idea of settling down into domestic life almost offensive. That’s why he travels, I think, so he can get a taste of adventure that he doesn’t find here on the ranch. Not just the women—although I suspect that’s no small part of why he wanders. No, it’s all of it. A new city equals a new adventure to Clay.

Trey’s issues are worse, far more serious than any of ours. And him... Fuck, I can’t fault him. We’d all loved Claire, and Trey still hasn’t gotten over what happened.

As for me, well, most of the time I don’t have much use for women.

But Jessa has my attention.

As if summoned by my thoughts, she appears again. This time, she has her laptop under one arm and her charger in the same hand.

She sees me at the bar and smiles, but the expression is tentative. She isn’t as comfortable with me as she is with my brothers yet. But that’s not exactly uncommon. I get by on my brains, not my sparkling personality. I’ve never been charming like Clay, nor do I have the authoritative presence of Trey. I certainly don’t have the brashness of Tyler. I’m quiet, and I think before I speak. It didn’t afford me the same cowboy charm as my other brothers.

“Hi there,” she says, and gives me a little wave. “Guess I’m not the only one who decided to get some work done today.”

I snort, I can’t help it. “Trust me, we’re probably the only two people within miles of this house who don’t have to be blackmailed in order to work on a computer.”

Her smile widens, and she settles in on the barstool next to mine. “Your brothers don’t exactly strike me as the desk jockey types.”

I wince, just barely. And she suddenly looks horrified. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a desk jockey.”

I laugh. “It’s okay, honestly. You’re not the first person I’ve met who thinks breaking horses and wrangling cattle is more interesting than working out the ROI for our latest venture, or picking stocks.” So what if I grew our fortune significantly by taking my family’s investments to the next level. But dammit, I’m not about to brag about that to impress a woman. Even one as fascinating as Jessa Long.

I’d looked into her after our first meeting. Googled some of her articles. She’s a great writer with a keen insight. We’re lucky to have her covering our work out here. If all of us lusting after her doesn’t chase her away before she can write the story.

She settles back in her chair and crosses her arms. Her eyes lock on me, really looking. I refuse to squirm under her gaze. I know who I am, what I am. I’m different from my brothers, sure. But I’m long past the age where I need to fit in. Most days.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she says, finally. “Don’t you know that smart is the new sexy?”

Her joke surprises another laugh out of me. “Is it now?” I hope so, after meeting her. Sure, Clay saw her first, but he’d also lied about his name. I’m still not sure pursuing Jessa is a good idea—and I always think things through from every angle before committing to anything, even chasing a woman—but I am damn tempted.

“It is,” she confirms. “And I’m starting to see why.” She gives me a dazzling smile.

Fuck. What a smile. A man could fall hard for a smile like that if he weren’t careful. If the bearer of that smile isn’t already, obviously, half in love with both of my other brothers, I could fall for her.

And that’s why I’m not chasing her. It is a race I’m far too likely to lose. And unlike our high school days, this one would really hurt. Long term.

At that thought, I turn back to my computer.

Sensing the shift in my emotions, she shifts in her seat, uncomfortable. Then after a long moment, she opens her laptop.

Over the next hour, we chat while we work. About lighter things, no more real flirting. She asks me a lot of questions that are pertinent, I’m sure, to her article. We talk about the most unsexy of topics, like the return on investment for the alternative energy methods we’re trying. And for several of our other environmental projects.

“This must’ve been a full house when you were growing up,” she muses. “Where are your parents now? Did they say screw the ranch life and move to a beach somewhere to retire?”

Pain squeezes my chest, but I force my face to remain neutral. “Our parents passed away when we were barely eighteen. Car accident.”

Her mouth drops open. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

“How could you have known?” I force a smile. “It was fourteen years ago. It was awful, but we made it.” Most of us, I silently add. Our fourth brother, Tyler, hasn’t made it through the same as the rest of us. He’d always acted like more of an outsider, even more than I have. He’s different from Clay and Trey, different from our father. He was two years younger than the three of us, and when our parents died...well, it’d been rough on a sixteen-year-old. We rarely saw him these days. And when we do see him, it’s because he needs bail money.

Her eyes fill with tears, and I look away. A lot of time has passed, but in a lot of ways the wounds are still fresh.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she says, and then her hand grazes my shoulder.

“You didn’t,” I say, truthfully. The desire to turn toward her, take her in my arms and comfort her, is so strong that I shut my laptop lid, pick it up, and turn away. “Please, don’t worry about it,” I tell her again. “Why don’t you grab some lunch? I have a few things I need to see to.” Then without looking at her, I head for my office in the back of the house.

Chapter 8