Chapter 14
Rhett
I smile when Juniper climbs into the truck, the passenger door shutting with a soft thunk. She’s wearing the dress I laid out for her. It’s white, simple, and sleeveless. Nothing fancy. But on her? Hell, she might as well have stepped out of a dream.
The fabric clings to her in all the right ways, skimming those curves I already know too well. Her blonde hair is still damp from the shower, loose and wild around her shoulders. Freckles popping against her fair cheeks from the morning sun.
She looks like trouble.
She looks like mine.
She’d hesitated when she first saw the dress laid out on the bed, fingers brushing the hanger like it might bite. Said something about not being the kind of girl who wears white anymore.
I told her I bought it because of that.
Because she’s nothing like the girl she used to be and everything I’ve ever wanted.
Now she sits beside me, buckling her seatbelt, lips tugging up like she’s trying not to smile too big. My chest does something stupid and tight.
I reach over and take her hand into mine as I pull out onto the road.
“After the meeting,” I say, glancing at her from the corner of my eye, “you want to go into Great Falls? Do a little shopping?”
Her head snaps toward me, brows raised. “That’s an hour away!”
I shrug, thumb brushing over her knuckles.
“Well worth it.” Then I let my voice drop. “There’s a lingerie store I want to take you to.”
She flushes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious.”
“You want me trying on lace for you in some fluorescent-lit dressing room?”
“No.” I give her a look. “I want you trying on lace in a boutique where they serve champagne, and the mirrors make you feel like a goddess. I’ll be the one waiting outside, imagining exactly how I’m going to take it off you later with my teeth.”
She chokes on a laugh. “You’ve thought this through.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve thought about it since the first time you rolled your eyes at me.”
She goes quiet after that. Not awkward-quiet. Just thoughtful, like she’s still not used to being wanted out loud.
I squeeze her hand again. “You don’t have to say yes.”
Her voice is soft. “I want to.”
That’s all I need.
We ride in silence for a while, the Montana sky stretching wide overhead, the road curling out in front of us.
The bank’s only twenty minutes away, but part of me wishes it were further.
I like having her here like this with sunlight on her skin, bare legs tucked up on the seat, and my hand wrapped around hers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
She glances over at me. “You going to tell me what this meeting’s about yet?”
I smile but keep my eyes on the road. “Soon.”
“You’re being secretive.”
“I’m being intentional. There’s a difference.”
She sighs, dramatic and amused, and leans her head against the window. “If this ends with me holding a goat or signing a mortgage, I’m going to need a heads-up.”
I laugh. But I don’t say she’s wrong.
We pull into the lot beside Ruin Ridge Bank, the building tall but unpretentious with its red brick, black trim, polished windows that reflect the stretch of Montana sky behind us.
I park in my reserved spot. She notices the gold placard with my name and raises a brow but says nothing.
Instead, she follows me around to the side entrance. It’s quiet at this hour. There are no customers yet, just the low hum of lights coming to life and the faint scent of coffee from the break room.
I unlock the door, motion her inside, and lead her straight down the hall to my office.
It’s clean. Sharp. Wood tones and iron accents. A little minimal, but intentional. The view from the wide windows overlooks the hills just beyond town.
Juniper walks in like she’s stepping into a different world.
She turns in a slow circle, fingers brushing the edge of my desk, eyes catching on the framed newspaper clipping from when I took over the place, the antique vault door repurposed as wall art, the small glass decanter set in the corner.
“You really own the bank?” she asks, gaze flicking to mine.
“I do,” I say simply.
She moves behind the desk and rests her hands on the back of my chair and then grins. “Can I sit in your chair?”
I raise a brow. “Only if you sit on my lap.”
She laughs, but I can see the blush creeping up her chest already. “That’s not exactly professional, Mr. Slade.”
“I’m not feeling very professional right now,” I murmur, crossing the room.
She doesn’t back away.
Instead, she perches on the edge of my desk like she belongs there. I grin and close the space between us, hands braced on the desk as I lean in.
“You trying to flip the power dynamic on me, sweetheart?”
“Maybe I like the view from here.”
“You like making me lose focus. That’s what you like.”
I lower myself into the chair, pulling her right into my lap. Her dress rides up slightly, warm skin brushing against my thighs, and I swear the air shifts instantly.
“This office has seen a lot,” I say, voice low against her ear. “But nothing as dangerous as you.”
She turns to face me more fully, arms around my neck now. “What, exactly, did you bring me here for?”
“You’ll see,” I murmur, kissing her neck once, just enough to feel her shiver. “But for now, I wanted you to know exactly who you’re dealing with.”
“And who’s that?” she breathes.
I smile against her skin. “The man who’s not letting you go.”
She’s about to reply when a sharp knock on my door pulls both our attention.
“Your guests are here, Mr. Slade,” a voice calls from the other side.
I press a quick kiss to her shoulder and nod toward the guest chair near my desk. “You can stay here or sit there.”
God, I’d love it if she stayed in my lap right where she belongs, but Juniper moves gracefully to the chair beside the desk. She smooths the skirt of her white dress and crosses her legs primly, shoulders squared like she’s ready to take on whatever this is.
The contrast between that softness and her steel? It does something to me.
I wink at her before turning toward the door. “Come on in, boys.”
Beaumont Tate and Sawyer Holt step into my office like they own the damn floor. Beau’s eyebrows shoot up the second he spots Juniper, but he keeps his mouth shut.
“Morning, gentlemen,” I say easily. Then I gesture toward her. “This is Juniper. She’ll be sitting in on today’s meeting.”
Sawyer glances at her, then at me, then back to her. His drawl is flat but pointed.
“You sure?”
Juniper doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t shrink. Which is good because I wouldn’t let her.
“Yeah,” I say, settling into my chair. “I’m sure.”
Sawyer grunts but doesn’t argue. He pulls out a chair. Beau follows, flipping open a leather folder.
I glance sideways at Juniper, and she meets my gaze with a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. Not doubt. But maybe curiosity. She’s about to find out what we’re here for. It’s something I’ve been working on since the day she came back to town.
Beau starts first. “Dug into the accounts, like you asked. You were right. They owe damn near everyone in the state. Wasn’t that hard to get the lenders to sell the debts to us for a fraction of the price.
” He slides a folder toward me. “Left side is what you’ll make if it goes to auction.
Right side is what it’ll cost you to keep the land. ”
I skim over the number, humming under my breath.
“Good. Anything else?”
Sawyer is the one who speaks this time. “Both of them have skeletons in their closest. Drugs, affairs, debts. You name it, they’re doing it.”
I catch Juniper trying to peer at the folder on my desk, so I turn to her.
“Beau, Sawyer, and I own a business together. We make our money by buying out ranchers in deep debt.” I tap the folder. “This folder is about the Quinn family.”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “My parents?”
I nod once. “Your family’s ranch. Your name’s not on any of it, Juniper. Not legally. But it should’ve been.”
The color drains from her face, then floods back twice as fast. “You’re saying you’re buying them out?”
Sawyer leans back in his chair, watching her carefully. Beau stays quiet, flipping the folder closed like the deal’s already done.
“I’m saying they’ve burned every bridge and leveraged everything they had, and now the bank owns most of what’s left,” I say. “They’re one late payment away from foreclosure. So we stepped in before it could go to auction.”
Juniper swallows hard. “So you’re doing this to what—strip it from them? Flip it for a profit?”
She’s trying to stay calm, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. The fight she’s still not sure she’s allowed to bring into this room.
“No,” I say, voice quiet but firm. “I’m doing this so you can have a say in what happens next.”
Silence stretches between us like a live wire.
Beau clears his throat. “Rhett’s proposing a transfer. Partial ownership of the property in your name. It’d be held under a new umbrella LLC, managed here. Clean slate. Full control.”
“Control?” she echoes, like the word’s foreign on her tongue.
Sawyer cuts in, tone even. “If we go this route, it means you decide whether the ranch gets rebuilt, leased, or razed. The Quinns won’t have legal authority. We’ll absorb their debts, and you can walk away with the land.”
Her hand grips the arm of the chair.
“What if I don’t want it?” she asks, but her voice falters.
I answer gently. “Then I’ll hold it. For as long as you need. But I’m not letting anyone else touch it. That land has your name in the dirt whether a deed says it or not.”
Her eyes shine, and I’m not sure if it’s anger or gratitude or grief.
Probably all three.
“You did this without asking me.”
“I did it so you’d have a choice,” I say. “Something they never gave you.”
She looks at me for a long moment.
Then slowly, she nods. Once.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s talk about what happens next.”
I hold up my hand, stopping the meeting. “Gentlemen, give us the room.”