One Bride for Four Ranchers

Clay

My decision to steer clear is a good one, I know that. And I manage to avoid her during her first day at the ranch. It takes everything inside of me not to seek her out, or at least seek out my brother, Trey.

He drove her around the ranch, and while I’m pretty sure it’d been all business, I find myself curious. Jealous, even. Not jealous of her and Trey—if she can penetrate the icy exterior he’s placed around himself since Claire died, more power to her. But I am jealous because I’m not involved. And why is that? Because I am skulking around, avoiding a woman who draws me to her like a moth to a flame.

And maybe I’m skulking because I feel more than a little ashamed about what happened in New York.

After breakfast, when I see her walk outside, I have to follow her.

Jessa doesn’t head out to her rental car like I thought she would. Instead, she walks out near the stables. Several horses are loose in the smaller padlock next to the barn. She walks toward the palomino mare closest to the fence and holds out her hand, cooing quietly to her. She’s holding a cut-up apple.

I stifle a smile at the sight, and follow her to the fence line. Buttermilk, the pretty palomino who Jessa attracted with her cooing, takes an apple slice with a happy crunch.

“Making a new friend?” I ask.

She glances over her shoulder at me, but doesn’t walk away. Her expression is cool, but not the fiery anger it’d been the night she got here. I am ready to call that progress.

“They’re beautiful,” she says, nodding to the horses.

“They are,” I say. As if understanding our words, Buttermilk preens at us. And I laugh. “And don’t they know it.”

Jessa gives me a wide smile, then frowns fiercely. As if remembering who she is smiling at. Even irritated with me, she’s beautiful. Her pert nose, beautiful eyes, and a body a man could get lost in. A body I did get lost in.

“Can you drive me into town?”

“Sure,” I say before I can think better of it. Shit. So much for avoiding Jessa. But I’d be a damn liar if I didn’t admit, at least myself, that something sparks in me at the idea of spending a little time with her.

“Thanks. I’ll be right back. Just need to grab some stuff.” And then she’s gone, rushing back to the house. No doubt grabbing her recorder and notebook she likes to carry around everywhere. I do my best not to watch her ass sway as she runs, but I fail. Damn, the woman has a nice set of curves.

The night we had together in New York was incredible. Hell, the best sex I’d ever had. Maybe that’s why I ran so fast. I didn’t handle it like I should have, and quite frankly I never thought I’d have to answer to anybody about it other than my conscience. Fucking figures the one girl I treat worse than an afterthought of even treating anyone before is the one that follows me home. Fucking fate.

I start my old Ford truck I’ve had and adored since I was sixteen. Before I can do more than that, Jessa is hopping into the passenger seat. I wait for her to belt up, then I put the old Ford into drive and head down the driveway.

“Can I ask you some questions while we drive?”

I start, then do my best to cover it up by rolling down my window. It’s the old crank style, so it takes a minute. “Sure, I guess.”

Ignoring my less than exuberant acceptance, she starts in with the questions. “So, I hear most of the environmental stuff you guys are doing out here was all your idea.”

“Now that wasn’t a question,” I point out, shooting her a grin.

She rolls her eyes at me. “You’re always kind of a pain, aren’t you?

“Ha!” I can’t help myself. Teasing her is just natur

al. “Now that was a question.”

She relents, chuckling with me for a moment. Damn, it feels good that she’s loosening up, even a little bit.

“But yes, it was my idea to start all this up, anyway. That’s not to say all the ideas were mine—once we got into it, Trey and Joshua both had a hand in what we implemented. But the idea itself, to try to make a ranch that is friendlier to the environment, that was mine.” My ears heat, and I shake myself mentally. I’m not one to hide from any sort of praise. I don’t resist taking credit where it’s due, and sometimes if I’m trying to impress a woman, where it’s not. But something about Jessa makes me want to dial all the bullshit down. And it makes me uncomfortable.

“Where did the idea come from?” she asks, writing in her notebook, seeming oblivious to my discomfort.

“I don’t know, really. Just one of those things that hits you and you wonder why you haven’t been doing it for years.” I shrug. “I might have thought of it, but Joshua and Trey have really seen it through. Hell, even Tyler helps a bunch when he comes around.”

She makes a few more notes before giving me a look I can only describe as penetrating. I don’t squirm, but it’s the first time I’ve ever wanted to because a beautiful woman was looking at me—at least since high school.

“I heard that you might have been inspired by your college classes.”