20. Christian #2
She flicked her manicured hand toward the door. “I can condense it. Spend thirty minutes of that with some soap and hot water. Do I even want to know why you smell like the bottom of a garbage truck in July?”
“There was a situation.”
Cassandra blinked. “A situation.”
I dropped the heavy vet bag on the threshold. “CJ had a momma casting her withers after she birthed a calf. Doc was out in Maren, a little town east, and couldn’t get out here to help.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “So you did?”
I shrugged. “Prolapsed uterus. Stitched her up and got her stable. Doc’ll be out here in a few hours to check her over.”
Cassandra’s eyes fell back on her computer screen. “I’ll pretend like you didn’t just tell me you had your whole arm up a cow’s?—”
“Two arms, actually,” I said, just to clarify.
“Shower,” she said.
“I’ll hose off outside if it’ll help you untwist those panties. I don’t wanna waste time going up to the house.”
Her fingers flew over the keys. “Unless you’ve got industrial grade soap and are okay with stripping down and flashing this entire ranch, you will go take a proper shower.”
I was planning on it, but verbal ping-pong with Cassandra was quickly becoming my favorite hobby. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
A reckless little smile flirted with her lips. “Stop wasting my time and go shower.”
“You could join me.”
Cassandra’s eyes flicked upward in surprise. “I’m on the clock.”
“That’s not a no,” I said with a smirk.
“Your children will be home soon.”
That was a no.
Cassandra pursed her lips, trying to stave off her amusement and keep that hardened shell on, but a laugh slipped. “I’ll meet you up at the house in twenty. Get your checkbook ready.”
I hustled up to the house and hopped in the shower to rinse off the day. As much as I tried to make it quick, I couldn’t get Cassandra out of my mind.
The blouse she was in wasn’t all that low-cut, but she had been leaning over the desk and it gave me an immaculate view of her breasts as they swelled against her lace bra.
I pressed my palm against the side of the shower, bracing myself against the wall as I wrapped my hand around my dick. Tension flooded away from my shoulder, rushing to my cock as I pumped it. I imagined Cassandra trussed up beneath me, squirming as I worshiped her body until she begged me to stop.
I wanted to fuck her again.
I groaned as my cum slapped the wall in harsh lines.
Well, that was short-lived. I needed to get my stamina back.
I sprayed the shower down and hopped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. My phone was buzzing across the bathroom countertop.
“Hello?”
“Surprised you picked up,” Ray said.
I chuckled. “Then why’d you call?”
“Figured I’d just leave a voicemail.”
I slipped out of the bathroom and caught Cassandra sitting at the kitchen table. I pointed to the phone and then dipped into my bedroom.
“So, what are you calling about? Shouldn’t you be getting chased by buckle bunnies right about now?”
Ray, the brother between CJ and me, was a champion bull rider who was living it up on the rodeo circuit.
“Nah, we’re moving. Rode Cinch in North Carolina. Heading to Florida for the weekend.”
I looked over my shoulder as I shimmied on a clean pair of jeans. “You gonna be coming to Houston?”
“Looks like it. You gonna bring my favorite girls to come see me?”
Bree and Gracie adored their Uncle Ray. From birth, he had been wrapped around their fingers.
“Dunno. You gonna win? I’d hate for them to watch you suck.”
“Fuck off. Look, I gotta go. But I’ll be out your way soon. You cool with me crashing at your place for the night before we go to Houston?”
“Actually—”
I didn’t even get my thought out before Ray cut me off. “Wait. Don’t say it. You got someone there with you, don’t you?”
“She works for the ranch,” I said under my breath. “On the—uh—business side. Becks brought her in.”
“Uh-huh. And she’s living in your house?”
“The cabins are shit.”
“Damn. I’ll have to get CJ and Nate to pay up. Nate thought it’d be at least two years before you brought someone around the girls. CJ had six months left on his bet.”
“Fuck off. It’s not like that,” I groused.
“Sure. You keep telling yourself that. I gotta call Mom anyway. I’ll get her to tell me.”
“Mom doesn’t know shit. Don’t go putting ideas in her head. I have enough problems on my plate. I don’t need her pestering me about getting serious about someone that I’m not seeing to begin with.”
Ray laughed. “That’s a big defense for someone who supposedly doesn’t have anything to be defensive about.”
“I gotta get back to work. Anything else you need before you start churning that rumor mill?”
“Nah,” he snickered. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry about getting that guest room ready. I’ll just bunk with CJ and the boys.”
“Drive careful. Don’t get trampled.”
I shoved my phone in my pocket and threw on a shirt before heading out to Cassandra.
“What was that about?” she asked, looking up from the stack of papers in her hands as she lounged in my armchair like it was her throne.
She looked damn good on it.
“My brother,” I said as I sat on the couch and patted the spot beside me.
To my surprise, Cassandra was amenable and sunk down next to me. “Considering CJ and Nate are less than a mile away, I’ll assume it was the other one.”
“Yeah.” I draped my arm around her shoulders and tried to steal a peek at the documents she had on her lap. “Ray called to say he’s gonna be in town in a few weeks for the Houston Rodeo. He’s gonna come visit.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her lips. “That works for me.”
“Should I be scared of what you’ve concocted in here?” I said as I pressed my luck and kissed the crown of her head.
“Probably,” she said as she flipped to a typed run-down. “You wanted me to go big? Well, welcome to the Griffith Brothers Ranch Revitalization Project. And before you start whining about the budget, I have investors on board.”
I hated the idea of investors. I didn’t like being in debt to anyone, much less faceless suits who didn’t give a damn about the heritage of the ranch or the care we took to be an integral part of the food cycle.
“Stop growling,” she clipped.
I cleared my throat and resigned to hearing her out, hating it, and figuring out a way to let her down easy. “Continue.”
“Phase one will be short-term projects that are in-budget. The equine program I pitched to you originally will be the cornerstone of that. You’d be crazy not to take advantage of the resources and infrastructure you already have in place. And I don’t think you Griffiths are crazy. Just stubborn.”
She flipped to the next page.
“Renewable energy leasing options will bring in immediate income as the herd is rotated from pasture to pasture. I’ve got written offers for solar and wind, and cell tower leasing.
If I may add a personal preference, put a damn cell town out here so you can stop living in the Stone Age.
The benefits are stable income and it can take up as little or as much land as you’re willing to give up.
We can find spots to put them that won’t be an eyesore for the next phase. ”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off.
“I looked into some studies and talked to CJ about it. The cows will adjust. They’ll be fine.” Her eyes flicked up to mine. “If that’s what you were about to bring up.”
I huffed. “Continue.”
“Where we should use the immediate available budget is the equine program and land acquisition. There are two properties north of the ranch that are willing to sell off a parcel of their land, and they’d rather it go to you all than to some developer.”
“And you’re not a developer?” I asked, tapping on the exposed edge of a set of architectural mock-ups and floor plans.
“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t,” she clipped.
“Fair.”
“The additional land will give the herd more space, with the ability to expand it if you want. The land closer to the existing infrastructure—water, electric, etcetera—can be developed.”
I groaned. “You’re losing me.”
“Just hear me out. You paid big money for this conversation.”
I traced my fingers over her shoulders, soothing the tension that balled up by her neck.
“A restaurant. Farm to table. Everything made in-house. Dry-aged steaks, local produce, world-class chefs. People won’t drive out here for a chain-restaurant meal.
It has to be a destination. If things go well, some kind of artisanal or specialty foods shop could be added on.
We could start bee keeping and sell honey or make sauces and baked goods.
Maybe a mail-order steak service. The options are endless. ”
She turned to the next page.
“And because getting out here isn’t exactly a quick trip from Austin, Houston, or Dallas, we’d need to build lodging.
An inn of some sort. The cabins could be renovated and rented out separately.
Lodging and a restaurant also opens you up to more than one-night stays.
You’d have a destination for luxury weddings.
Corporations would book it out for the ‘ranch experience.’ Team building and all that bullshit.
Build an extension from the lodge and have a day spa.
Given the boots-on-the-ground research I’ve done, there are plenty of locals itching for somewhere to get away to relax or celebrate a special occasion. ”
She flipped to the last page. It was a fax from some real estate firm based in New York.
“Lawson International is willing to back the project.”
I let out a low whistle as I looked at the numbers. “Ten million dollars. This… company will give us ten million dollars?”
Cassandra lifted her chin. “I know powerful people, Christian. We’re not building a roadside motel. This will be a luxury destination. The investment reflects that, as will the prices when guests come to dine and stay.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Who do you know with ten million dollars?”
She didn’t even blink. “Isaac Lawson is worth far more than ten million dollars. He probably keeps that in cash by his bedside.” She tapped the page. “The terms of the partnership are spelled out, and they already have a preference for the restaurateur that’s brought in on the deal.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “How do you know that we can trust these people?” I still couldn’t believe my eyes. “How do you know them to begin with?”
“You’re forgetting that I was a publicist before I landed on your ranch.
I know Mr. Lawson’s publicist, and his personal assistant.
I know all his dirty laundry, and I’ve assisted in a cover-up or two.
Making the phone call was easy. The deal was not.
I’d recommend reviewing it in detail with your legal counsel before making any decisions.
The development and terms of the contract will likely outlive you.
Think of the girls and the next generation when you’re discussing the terms and making your decision. ”
Cassandra shuffled the papers together and tapped them on her lap to straighten the pages.
I rested my elbows on my knees and ran my hands through my hair. “I hate this.”
“I know you do,” she said without a care in the world.
“CJ is gonna hate it even more.”
Cassandra handed over the revitalization plans. “Probably.”
I sighed. “You went big.”
Her eyes softened. “You told me to.”
“Fuck,” I huffed as I sat back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. “Let’s do it.”