One Bride for Four Ranchers

“Oh yes.” He turns again, facing me. Far too close. And yet something inside of me wishes he was closer. “You’re like that stallion I just had to ride when I was a kid. Full of spirit. Beautiful. Untamable.”

Tears prick my eyes at his words, and I look up to meet his gaze. “You barely know me.”

He reaches out and slides his thumb down my jawline, never breaking eye contact. “I’m a good judge of character, honey.”

Moving achingly slowly, giving me time to move away, he leans down and presses his lips softly against my own. He doesn’t take my mouth, like I would have expected given his brash attitude and obvious confidence. Just a long, slow, press of his mouth against mine.

And then he pulls back, gives me a long, meaningful look, and starts to walk back toward the house.

I’m shaken. Shaken by how much his kiss makes me want to tell him to never stop. Shaken by yet another Hollister brother who has gotten under my skin in no time flat. Shaken by the fact that I want all four of them. And worse, I have feelings for them all. Ridiculously strong feelings for such a short amount of time.

I follow Tyler back to the house, wishing I could figure a way through this without hurting everyone involved.

I’m finishing my cup of tea when Trey walks into the kitchen. I know I’m not supposed to have much caffeine, but dammit, after last night and my insane walk with Tyler this morning I need a little bit of a boost.

“Good morning.” Trey greets me with a warm smile, and just the look, just seeing him, makes me tingle all over.

I start. Is it still morning? I glance at the microwave clock and confirm that it is indeed—for ten more minutes. So much has already happened this morning that it feels like it should be late afternoon, at least. “Good morning.”

“Hope you slept well.”

I can’t help it. A flash of the fantasy I’d had the night before pops into my brain. In full freaking color. I can feel my face heat and I stare firmly at my ceramic coffee cup. Finally, I manage to croak, “Fine, thanks.”

Trey looks at me knowingly, so I turn and grab a muffin before my expression can reveal too much. Why does it feel like these men can look directly into my soul, and worse, into my dirtiest thoughts?

“Would you like to see the rest of the ranch?” he asks.

I turn back to him, shocked. “There’s more?” How far had we driven around the other day? Miles and miles. At least, it felt that way.

“The ranch is thousands of acres. We saw a chunk of it the other day when I took you around, but there’s plenty more to see. I’d like to take you up to the high pasture. Show you what we’re doing up there.”

Trey’s reasoning is sound, perfectly professional. And I don’t get the feeling he’s lying to me. But...

His eyes are locked on me, and he seems to wait with a great deal of tension in his body. But despite my mixed-up feelings about Clay at the moment, I feel like I can trust Trey. I want to trust all of the Hollister brothers—even the one I’d only met the night before who strikes me as the kind of man who draws outside of the lines.

“I’d love to see it,” I say honestly.

“Good,” he says. Some of the tension seems to melt away from his body. I shove the rest of the muffin in my mouth as we walk to the truck. I let Trey do the talking, since he doesn’t have a mouthful of muffin. I’m afraid chunks of the delicious blueberry concoction may fly out of my mouth if I talk now. Not only would that be mortifying, but it’s freaking delicious and I don’t want to lose a single bite. These must have been made by hand by BethAnn. No way these things aren’t homemade.

Trey doesn’t seem to mind having to hold the conversation. He chats more about the ranch and the weather and probably any other topic coming to his mind. Once again, he opens the door for me, and I hop in the truck. And it suddenly strikes me—he’s nervous about something, the way he’s chattering on. What on earth could make this man nervous?

“So are any other brothers going to show up out of the woodwork?” I can’t help but ask. Because quite frankly I’m not sure what I will do if there are yet more Hollister brothers to try to figure out right now. And if they’re out there, they’d better not be handsome and impossible to resist.

He grimaces, ever so slightly. “There’re just the four of us. And to be quite honest with you, Tyler doesn’t show his face around here very often.”

I suddenly find myself far more fascinated with this conversation. I know that writing about the ranch is my job, and the work is interesting. However, I find the Hollister brothers themselves far more fascinating than the ranch. “Why is that?”

“Tyler’s had a rough time of it. He was only sixteen when our parents died, and that’s a hell of an age to lose your security like that.”

“Eighteen is a hardly an easy age to lose your parents, either,” I say gently.

His grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I was lucky. Joshua, Clay and I.” His voice fills with sadness and regret. “We were older, and we had each other. None of us took the initiative like we should’ve to reach out to Tyler. We concerned ourselves far too much with making sure he stayed on the straight and narrow path. All we did was drive him away.”

I reach out and touch his shoulder, an offering of support. “You were all just kids. And you can’t help that you three were born triplets and he was born later on.”

With his left hand he reaches over and places his hand on top of mine for a moment. When he releases me, I release him as well, returning my hand back to my side. “We didn’t realize he’d feel like an outsider. And we were all lost in our own grief for a while. By the time I got my head out of my own ass, Tyler was already getting in trouble with the law. We got him through high school—barely. But since then he’s mostly been off on his own.”

The loneliness Tyler must’ve felt tightens my chest. It’s hard enough losing your parents, but when you’re already the odd man out—the only sibling born apart—it has to make things feel unbearable for a kid that age.