Wrangled (Steele Ranch 2)

“Was it just you and your mother growing up?” Jamison asked.

I shook my head, tucked my hair behind my ear. “My mother married my stepfather when she was pregnant with me. That was what I’d just learned. I thought the ring had come first, that Peter Vandervelk was actually my father, but that wasn’t the case.”

I flicked my gaze from my cup to the guys. They were watching me closely, but remained quiet. Waited for me to say more.

“He has three older kids from a previous marriage. Two are doctors now, the other a lawyer.”

“Impressive,” Jamison replied neutrally.

I thought of Kyle, Ryan and Evelyn. Their drive was impressive. A neurosurgeon, a thoracic specialist and the youngest female partner ever in her Charlotte law firm. I shrugged because while they were brilliant in their fields, they weren’t very nice people.

“Any chance your mother is Congresswoman Vandervelk?” Boone asked.

The corner of my mouth tipped up. “You looked me up, just as I did for you.”

He nodded. I was actually kind of glad they already knew some things about me because I didn’t have to go into detail. I didn’t have to tell them that my mother had lied, not only to me but the entire world, about who my father was. How it was more important for her to keep up with appearances with her constituents than for me, her own daughter, to know the truth.

“Why do you want to hear what you already know?” I wondered aloud. I put my hands in my lap, wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt.

“Because I want to hear it from you,” Boone replied simply.

I sighed. “Yes, my mother is a member of Congress. My stepfather is the Vice Chancellor of a university hospital in Charlotte. Fancy titles for fancy people.”

“You studied science,” Boone added.

I was surprised he wasn’t asking more about my parents. That was what most people did. They either wanted something from them or at least the connection to them through me.

“Yes, my focus was subsurface geoscience.”

They both listened intently, their eyes squarely on me as if I was the only thing around, the only thing of interest, not the guy who was asking the cashier for directions or the beeps for the gas pumps.

“I spent months in Iceland finishing my thesis, which I won’t bore you with. That’s why I didn’t know about the inheritance or Aiden Steele. Any of it, until I came back. My mail had been on hold.”

“I had to do tons of science for med school, but I have no idea what subsurface geoscience is.” Boone was being open. Honest. They both were. And they were actually interested in me. In my life. No networking to get to my parents.

“Subsurface geoscience? In three words: Oil and gas.”

Jamison rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. I couldn’t miss the ruffling of his short hair, a contrast to the tanned skin. I wondered if it was soft to the touch, if his skin was warm, what it would feel like against my lips. I was thinking all these hot, distracted thoughts about them. Had been from the first time I saw them. I’d never really considered a guy enticing enough to have sex with. Before now. Sure, I’d met handsome men, but none of them had done it for me. Now, all of a sudden, my hibernating libido decided to wake up. Like a toddler after eating too much sugar, wired and raring to go. I wanted Jamison. I wanted Boone, and I wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. I had no idea how to seduce one man, let alone two.

“There are good careers in that, especially around here.”

Yes, in this part of the country, mineral rights, oil and gas rights, extraction even, were big news. A big deal. There were many issues between environmentalists and extraction companies. Big money. Big destruction, too. Crazy things like increased radon levels and even man-made earthquakes. It was a political nightmare.

“Yes, I’ve been wooed already. Job offers.” I gave them a quick, small smile. “But I’ve got my dissertation outline for my PhD that comes next.”

“You don’t sound very excited about that. The jobs or the PhD,” Jamison murmured, studying me closely, as if he could hear the truth past the words.

A customer came inside and the bell above the door dinged. He went to the counter, asked for a pack of cigarettes.

“A Vandervelk is high achieving.” The words were like a mantra, drilled into me since birth. I replied automatically and without even thinking.

“What the hell does that mean?”

I flicked my gaze up to Boone and he was frowning. He looked mad.

“I’m Penelope Vandervelk.” I tapped my finger on my chest. “I’m expected to maintain a certain level of accomplishment. I mean, it wouldn’t look good for my mother, or any of the others, if I—”

Both men leaned forward so they were close, a little too close. “If you what?”