Heiress and the Cowboy (Justice Book)

She recently bought a giant yacht, and I heard that she holds a themed party there every weekend. I’m allergic to people. I’ve got four cousins and sometimes it’s so busy and loud at the main house that I built a cabin on the south part of the ranch, putting a few hundred acres between me and the rest of my well-meaning family.

I can’t drag Cameron out into the wilderness, and I’d probably end up jumping off the yacht before the sun set if I stayed in the city too long.

I’ve known this since I was a teenager and so I’ve stayed away from her all this time.

“Why are you here?” Babs asks, her voice serious. “I hope it’s not to break anyone’s heart.”

“I don’t know why I’m here, Babs, but I don’t want to hurt anyone either.” Including myself, but I can’t keep my eyes from drifting back to Cameron. I want her. Badly.

CHAPTER 2

CAM

Why the hell is Tucker Justice here? He never comes to these kinds of things. That man wouldn’t know how to have a good time if it smacked him in the face. Social events have never been his thing. Except lately. I’d run into him obviously at Birdie's fashion show out at the Double J property. Since then I keep running into him at events.

It’s surprising because Tucker hates to be in crowds. Even back at boarding school, he always skirted outside of the cliques. I had the worst kind of crush on him back then. So much so that when I found out he enjoyed playing chess I’d actually gone and made a club for it, hoping he’d have to come around me then. I’d never worked so hard for a boy's attention. My efforts didn’t have the effect I’d hoped for, though.

Thankfully, I’ve grown out of that stage. At least that’s what I tell myself as I down another glass of champagne to calm my nerves. How that man still affects me after all these years I’ll never understand.

“One of the Justice men is here,” Marilyn says to me excitedly.

Now that Birdie Rodgers went and landed her one of the uncatchable Justice men, everyone thinks they might have a chance to land one. Fat chance of that. Especially if they have their hopes set on Tucker. The thought of other women wanting him doesn’t sit well with me.

I love the Justice men. They are all good people. At least the ones I grew up with. They all believe there is a curse out to get the woman they love. I thought it was ridiculous when I first heard about this rumor. I got Cane to spill it to me. All I had to do was get a few drinks into him and bring up Astor, and he took the bait hook, line, and sinker. He would have handed over anything for a few small updates on her.

I wasn’t after the Justice money. I have enough of my own. Like Cane, I’d wanted some details on Tucker. I was just better at hiding what I was after. A girl has to have her secrets.

As crazy as the curse sounded when I first heard about it, I understand why they would believe it to be true. I can be superstitious myself. Except the curse doesn’t scare me. There are worse things than death, if you ask me. Being alone is one of them. Never taking a chance because you’re afraid of the outcome is another.

“Which one?” I pretend to not know. When you play dumb, people are always quick to fill in the details for you, often giving you way more than you need.

“Tucker. I don’t know much about him. I wish it was Cane.” Marilyn pretends to fan herself. “Cane doesn’t belong on some ranch with horses and pigs. That man could make a killing modeling.”

“That he could,” I agree. What I find funny about Cane is he truly believes this curse kills the women they love. He's already in love with Astor, though. Has been since we were kids, and she’s still alive. If anyone is going to die in that duo, it’s Cane. The looks alone I saw her cut him at Birdie’s fashion show could kill him. God, I love that girl. I’m just not sure she loves Cane. Astor isn’t the type of girl to wait around or pine after a man. I don’t blame her. I think I actually heard she started dating someone.

“Didn’t you go to school with Tucker? What do you know about him?” Marilyn asks, taking a sip of her champagne. I polish the rest of mine off, already feeling a buzz. I can easily hold my own, but champagne often goes straight to my head. It’s why I tend to stick with my whiskey.

“I did. We didn’t talk much.” It’s not a lie, but when it comes to knowing people, I excel. Whether I've met them or not. I tend to know everything about everyone. I don’t care for surprises. The server circles by me again, offering me another glass of champagne. “I think you’re trying to get me drunk,” I tease him. “A few more and you’ll end up with my number.”