One Bride for Four Ranchers

I throw a few pieces of fruit on my plate, still slightly queasy from my bout with morning sickness first thing this morning. I’ve missed all the hands again, but BethAnn smiles at me and tells me good morning. She’s busy with the cleanup, so I do my best to stay out of her way and not distract her.

I’m just finishing my fruit when Tyler walks in. He bends to give BethAnn a kiss on the cheek, then turns to flash me a grin. “Good morning, tiny writer.”

“I’m not tiny,” I bristle. “It’s not my fault you and your brothers are overgrown. Must be something in the water here.” Something that grows the men big and sexy as hell.

He fills a big glass with orange juice. “We’re just the perfect size.”

I snort. “Flirt.”

He turns and winks at me. “You might say that.” Then he downs the orange juice. Somehow, he manages to do so without losing any of his sensual allure. When he’s finished, he asks, “So what are your plans for the day?”

Finish writing my story. Avoid

the Hollisters at all costs. Figure out how to tell Clay I’m pregnant. I swallow a hysterical laugh and manage not to sound crazy when I reply. “Going to work on my story, I suppose.”

“Why don’t you spend the morning with me?”

I choke on the swig of coffee I’ve just taken, and Tyler rushes to my side, smacking me on the back.

“Are you okay?” he asks when I finally stop coughing into my napkin.

“Peachy,” I half-say, half-cough. I take another drink to calm my irritated throat. “Spend the morning with you, huh?”

He grins at me. “Sure. Unless you’re scared?”

“Scared of what? You?” I scoff, but secretly I kind of am. Not of the man himself, but of how these brothers seem to make me feel without even trying.

We step out into the sunlight and I glance at Tyler. He looks like his brothers, but there are subtle differences. His hair is a shade darker, barely brown instead of black, and he is maybe half an inch shorter than the triplets.

“Where are we going?” I ask, but I don’t really care much. It’s a beautiful day, and I’m happy to be outside. Even accompanied by one of the brothers, my head feels clearer than it has in a while.

“I thought we’d take a walk.” He gestures for me to go ahead, and we stroll toward the corral. “Chat a bit, maybe.”

“About my story?”

“If you’re lucky.”

I can’t help smiling. The man has a certain roguish charm which is proving nearly impossible to resist. And for the next hour, we wander around the property, staying somewhat close to the house. Tyler is just as charming as I suspected. And even chatting about silly things, he is easy to talk to.

“I still remember,” he says as we come back around a small, open pasture near the barn where a few horses chomp on grass lazily, “the first time I jumped on a horse my dad told me not to.”

I lean against the fence, and he does the same. Our arms are only inches apart. “Didn’t go like you planned?”

He snorts. “That stallion tossed my ass to the ground, and if my dad hadn’t been close, he’d have stomped my butt, too.”

“How old were you?” I can so envision this man as a little boy, impish grin and zero ability to do what he’s told.

“Five. And up and ready to do it again a week later. But I stayed on the second time.”

“I’ll bet you did.” I pick at the wood fence. “Not exactly a fan of the rules are you?”

“I’m not the only one.”

Surprised, I look up and meet his far-too-knowing gaze. I swallow around the lump in my throat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve got all three of my brothers so wrapped up in you right now that not a one of them can see straight. Even Joshua—and he doesn’t get wrapped up that I’ve ever seen.” He turns and faces away from the fence, then leans back with his arms wide. His fingertips are only a hair’s breadth from touching my arm. “And the damnedest part of it all, is I can see exactly why they are all knocked on their asses.”

“Can you, now?” My voice is so soft, and I can’t look at him. So I look out at a grazing bay horse instead. A beautiful mare, so quiet and serene. I wish I could find some of that serenity now.