Chapter 15 #2
For him, it was probably surprise to find me there. For me? Well, Trent’s broad shoulders filled the doorway, his jaw tight and his hat tipped back enough to show the frustration working between his eyebrows, and he was staring straight at me.
In my sweat-soaked running tank and my hair in an undoubtedly frizzy ponytail. My face was probably still red. Basically, I was not at my absolute peak hotness and here he was, looking like he was doing yet another shoot for Sexy Ranchers Weekly.
“Found her,” he muttered like it was a personal inconvenience and not, in fact, his fault I’d been missing in the first place.
Before I could remind him that I was an actual human being and not a runaway calf, Claira lit up bright as a sunflower. “Oh good, you’re here. I was just about to tell Charlotte about our plans for Christmas this year. We’re long overdue for a winter wedding in this family.”
This time, I really did choke on my drink. Trent sighed, lifting his hat all the way off his head before he shook it. Firmly. “Mom, we haven’t even had breakfast yet.”
“Don’t you Mom me,” she said, waving him off. “The last five weddings on the Shepard side of the family were all in June. It’s too dang hot, and I’m tired of pastels and peonies. I want holly, velvet, and candlelight. I want to wear a sweater, not be a sweater.”
“Mom,” he repeated, dangerously close to growling. “We will not be discussing winter weddings. Or any weddings, really.”
Claira leaned toward me conspiratorially. “You’ll be such a beautiful bride.”
I laughed. God, I loved this woman. Adored her. I wanted to ask if she would adopt me, but Trent already had a hand wrapped around my arm, gentle, but his grip definitely meant business.
“We actually have other plans for this morning,” he lied, that easy smile nowhere in sight. “We’ve got to go. See you later.”
“No, we don’t,” I started to protest, dying to keep sitting exactly where I had been and baking biscuits with his mother, but he was already steering me out the door, mumbling apologies over his shoulder.
The second we were outside and headed toward his truck, his gaze snapped to mine like a whip. “What the hell were you thinking, running all the way over here? In this heat?”
I spun on him. “What was I thinking? You left the house without saying a word. I mean, leave a note or something. I woke up alone. In the middle of nowhere. With no car.”
“I own a ranch,” he snapped back, throwing his hands up—but only after opening the passenger door of his truck for me. It seemed like even in the middle of an argument, it was too ingrained for him not to. “I have to work and we start early. Of course, I left. I do it every morning.”
“I have a life too,” I fired back. “Or at least, I had one. Yet here I am, staying for weeks because you suggested it. What do you expect me to do, sit inside your gigantic house and talk to the furniture?”
He stared at me like he genuinely had no answer, but then he waved a hand at the open door of the truck, exasperation on his features. “Get in.”
I crossed my arms. “You could ask nicely.”
“I could,” he said. “I won’t.”
I got in anyway, because I’d officially lost my entire mind when I’d signed up for a fake relationship that was turning into a full-time emotional rodeo. And it was only day two.
Naturally, that was when my brother decided to call back. My phone buzzed against my thigh. When I pulled it out to see Alex’s name on the screen, I slid it right back to where it had been without taking the call.
It wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to him, but right now, one bossy, controlling man was more than enough for me to handle. The call ended, and a second later, Trent’s phone lit up in the cup holder.
He didn’t reach for it. The ringing simply echoed in the cab, loud and insistent. Meanwhile, we were just staring at each other, neither of us blinking or looking away.
Finally, the phone went silent, but it was only for a second before it started again.
Still, neither of us moved. We just kept sitting there, locked in a silent standoff that felt like it might end with a duel, but eventually, he broke the tension.
“Okay. No talking to the furniture. What do you want to do, then?”
My answer was immediate. “I want to see the horses.”
Resignation tightened his features as he raked a hand through his hair, a deeper red when it was sweat-damp. “I guess that was the selling point, huh?”
“It was,” I said. “You told me you had horses.”
“I do.”
“Then show me.”
“At least you’re wearing better clothes for it today.” Trent blew out a long breath, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He turned down a dirt road snaking off to the left.
As far as I was concerned, this ranch was a maze, but as intimated as I was by it, meeting Claira had changed something for me. I wasn’t sure yet what it was, but I finally felt a little less insecure about being here.
She had known my mother. Trent knew my brother and my cousin. Hell, I was practically extended family already, even if Claira wouldn’t wind up getting her wish about me marrying into it officially.