Resisting the Rancher (Redwood Falls 3)

He was confused—she was the one confusing him and that made him damn near furious. And knowing good and well that he hadn’t ordered whatever the hell was on his plate from the grocery store, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Janet had gone to town that day. With the baby—in that unreliable piece of shit car.

“What am I eating?” he asked, although he hadn’t taken a single bite.

He saw her shoulders visibly stiffen and he knew his damn voice had reflected his irritation. He was on a tight leash, he felt a banging in his head that was screaming to tie her the fuck down—but he knew those feelings weren’t rational.

She never answered his question, she didn’t even turn around, only ignored him completely. But Zach glanced up and mumbled, “Fish sticks, Dad.”

Jeff tore his eyes away from the rigid line of Janet’s feminine backbone and looked at his son. “Fish sticks?”

His son shrugged his shoulders. “I like ‘em,” he said, right before he shoveled another bite into his mouth. After his son made the favorable comment, Janet lifted a single hand, reached behind her and tousled his son’s hair with affection. Zach responded by leaning forward, as if to put himself out of her reach, but his mouth lifted into a smirk, and it wasn’t aggravation that Jeff saw reflected on the boy’s face. It was pleasure, with maybe a side of embarrassment to go along with it.

His son glanced at him briefly but then the boy flushed and looked down at his plate.

An added awareness of the situation he was allowing to develop struck him, but Jeff pushed it to the back of his mind, not wanting to let himself think about it too closely—he was on a one-track mission to find out where the girl had gone that day—and to stop it from happening again.

“Why would you buy fish sticks, Janet?” He asked purposely, realizing that he’d boomed the question too abruptly when the baby appeared startled, her mouth quivering.

Son-of-a-bitch.

Janet turned to face him, running a hand over the baby’s curls to soothe her. “I was running late and I didn’t want to mess up supper,” she answered in a soft, non-combative tone that was probably meant to calm him down.

It didn’t calm him in the slightest, it made him want to hold her down to a flat surface and strip the clothes from her body. “Why were you running late?”

“It was my day off,” she said, an answer that didn’t give him an answer at all.

But then again, it did.

A stroke of fury reared up and he felt like his head was going to split in two when he realized her soft little answer meant it was none of his damn business where she’d gone that day. And he realized the implications of her evasiveness—exactly where she had gone. Come on—tell him no. Tell him she had not gone to that fucker’s house again. Surely, to hell—she wouldn’t have gone there.

But knowing damn good and well that she had, he stood to his feet, unprepared to put up with any more bullshit. “Zach. Watch the baby. Make sure she doesn’t choke on her food. We’ll be in the study if you need us.”

Zach nodded, a glimmering awareness in his eyes, but Jeff couldn’t worry about that right now. Rounding the corner of the table, he made a grab for Janet’s hand and pulled her from the room.

****

Janet found herself locked in the study with a madman. Eyes the color of dark soot stared down at her, while he firmly stood between her and any escape she might have sought to make. His features hardened into lines of implacability as he said with a clenched jaw, “You got two seconds to tell me you didn’t go to Parker’s today.”

She sucked in a breath, her heart hammering in her ears, but she couldn’t form words. She’d known he’d be mad—hell, she’d gone to Parker’s with the express purpose of making him mad, even if she was only now realizing it. Dammit—she’d wanted him to feel something. She wanted some kind of a reaction. And if anger was all she could make him feel, then so be it. Did that make her a bad person?

But just because she’d practically begged for a reaction, that didn’t mean she wasn’t wary.

When she didn’t answer his question, he turned away, his hands clenching and unclenching. He planted his feet wide apart, as he twisted his neck, this way and then that, as if trying to get the knots out.

An almost unnatural silence bounced between them as he turned back to face her, his features mottled with fury. “Let’s get one thing straight between us. When I give you a direct order, you’re damn sure going to obey that order, understand me?”

Feeling her eyes grow wide, she began shaking her head, ever so slowly.

He took one step closer and then stopped abruptly, the storm cloud brewing on his features turning sinister. “No? You’re telling me ‘no’?”

She nodded her head, just once.

His eyes narrowed as he cracked his knuckles. His mouth flattened in lines of barely-held patience. “You don’t get to tell me ‘no’. That’s not an option.”

The words that came from his mouth mystified her. While she wasn’t afraid of him physically, or at least, she didn’t think she was, the fact that he continually tried to intimidate her when he didn’t get his way should have been a huge red flag. And dammit, she needed to get her head out of her ass and listen to her instincts—and maybe make him understand that he couldn’t treat her this way.

She didn’t want to issue empty threats, but she was totally prepared to back them up with action, if he didn’t let up and let up soon. So she licked her lips and announced, “You need to be careful how you speak to me or I’ll be done here, Jeff.”

He reared back as if she’d slapped him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I don’t have to stay here. I can pack up Hannah and our stuff and leave.” His posture went stiff, his muscles turned rigid but she went on, “We’ve had this discussion before—you don’t own me. You don’t get to tell me where I can go or who I can see or where I can work on my day off. You don’t get to tell me what my only option is. You don’t get to hang over me and crack your knuckles and fist your hands and demand my obedience. I’m not a damn dog, got it?”

She had no idea how he would react to her diatribe, maybe punching a wall or yelling at the top of his voice, but what she got wasn’t what she expected, not in the slightest.

He seemed to get s

omewhat of a grip, as he began walking toward her with a slow, measured tread. She retreated as he walked forward, continuing until her back was against the wall. His hands landed on either side of her head, and when he opened his mouth to speak, his words were pinched. “I went to school with Jason Parker, bet you didn’t know that.”

She shook her head, her eyes on his.

“We were in the same grade level—Redwood Falls all the way through, darlin’.”

“Yeah, so?” she challenged.

“So, that means I know him better than most. And guess what his favorite pastime is, sweetness?”

“What?” she asked, playing along for the moment.

His lips twisted and tightened. “Fucking women—different women.”

She let out a puff of air, because did she really care about the personal life of Jason Parker? “That has nothing to do with me. All he wants from me is a clean house and clean laundry.”

“No, darlin’, that’s not all he wants, trust me on that. He wants to get your little ass in bed, I promise you that. And guess what? That shit’s not happening, not on my watch.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, Jeffrey McIntyre, but I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself!”

“Yeah? Really? Doesn’t fucking look like it to me,” he roared. “You already got one kid—and I hate to remind you, baby, but I had you flat on your back within a week.”

Low. Blow. His words hit her like a slap in the face. She tried to rear back, but she had nowhere to go. She was slayed by his opinion, and the fact that he’d thrown it in her face was beyond contemptible.

“Bastard” she spat out. “You’re nothing but a bastard and you’re making it almost impossible to justify exactly why I’m staying here!”

He let out a cynical laugh. “You’ve got it good here and you damn well know it. You’ve got a beautiful fucking house to live in—I already know you can’t cook and the rest of your domestic skills are questionable as well so it’s not like you have to worry about your job performance. You like what we do together—you know I can get you off—so what’s not to like about staying here?”