Chapter Seven #2
I caught the flash of jealousy in Buck's eyes as they swept over Heath's home, the guests at his table. This wasn't just about business—it was about his resentment of everything Heath had that he wanted: the respected breeding program, the heritage ranch, the Vickery investment, and apparently, me.
My heart pounded as I followed them back to the table, where confusion had replaced the earlier laughter. Dottie dabbed her lips with her napkin nervously, clearly sensing the tension.
"Mr. Jessup," Earl acknowledged with a curt nod. "Something we can help you with?"
"Actually," Buck said, his grin widening, "I thought you might like to know something about your potential partners here." He gestured between Heath and me. "A little truth about their... arrangement."
The moment stretched taut as a wire. I could see Heath's shoulders tense, his hands clenching at his sides. In that instant, I knew what I had to do.
"You know what?" I stepped forward, placing myself between him and the table. "You're right. It's time for some truth."
Heath's eyes widened. "Honey—"
"It's okay," I assured him before turning to face everyone. "When I first came to McGraw Heritage Ranch, it wasn't as Heath's girlfriend. The truth is, I tried to liberate what I thought were factory-farmed turkeys, only they turned out to be prize heritage breeds."
Gasps echoed around the table. Dottie clutched her pearls, eyes widening to saucers.
"Heath caught me," I continued, the words tumbling out faster now. "He could have called the sheriff, had me arrested for livestock theft. Instead, we made a deal—I would pretend to be his girlfriend while you were visiting, and he wouldn't press charges."
Buck's triumphant smile faltered as I took the wind from his sails.
"So yes, it started as a business arrangement," I admitted, glancing at Heath, whose expression had gone unreadable. "But then something unexpected happened between us."
I took a deep breath, looking directly at Heath now.
"I got to know the real Heath McGraw. Not just Knox's brother or some cowboy stereotype, but a man who cares deeply about ethical farming.
A man who delivered a foal in the middle of the night and let me name her Grace.
A man who defended me against small-town gossip and protected me against unwanted advances. "
My voice softened. "What began as a deal turned into genuine connection—and more. At least for me." I swallowed hard, vulnerability making my hands tremble. "I'm falling for you, Heath. For real."
The room had gone pin-drop silent. Buck's smug expression had collapsed entirely, replaced by consternation as he realized his blackmail attempt had backfired spectacularly.
Heath stepped forward, his eyes never leaving mine. "Honey—"
"Your turn," I whispered.
He dipped his chin in acknowledgment, then turned to address the room. "What Honey said is true. It started as a mutual agreement but became something more. And Buck's right about one thing—I wasn't honest with you, and for that I apologize."
Heath moved to stand beside me, his shoulder brushing mine.
"But I need to clarify something else. I've had feelings for Honey since the first time I met her, years ago at Knox's graduation.
I never acted on it because she was with my brother.
When she showed up on my property that night, I saw an opportunity I couldn't pass up. "
He turned to face me fully. "I'm sorry for the way things started between us, but I'm not sorry it happened. You challenge me, Honey. You make me laugh. You see value in what I do here that most people don't understand."
I blinked back tears, a warmth spreading through my chest at his confession.
Earl cleared his throat, breaking the emotional moment. "So this whole relationship was a sham?"
"It started that way," Heath acknowledged, facing him squarely. "But it's not anymore. I’m falling in love with this woman, quite frankly."
To my shock, Dottie began to laugh—not the scandalized reaction I'd expected, but genuine amusement. "Well, I'll be. If that isn't the most romantic thing I've heard since Earl proposed to me during a tornado warning."
"You're not... angry?" Heath asked cautiously.
"Boy," Earl said, leaning back in his chair, "you think we got to our age without recognizing genuine feelings when we see them? It was obvious something real was developing between you two, whatever arrangement you might have had at the beginning."
"Besides," Dottie added with a sly smile, "anyone who stands up to Buck Jessup is alright in my book."
Buck himself stood frozen by the doorway, his complexion mottling with rage and embarrassment. "You can't seriously be considering investing with them after this confession?"
"Actually," Earl said, eyes narrowing, "I appreciate honesty and integrity more than anything, Buck. Something you might want to consider before attempting blackmail at a Thanksgiving dinner."
Buck's face flushed with fury. "This isn't over, McGraw," he spat before storming out, the front door slamming behind him hard enough to rattle the windows.
In the aftermath, an awkward silence settled over the table. Knox looked stunned, while Bitsy's eyes were wide with delight.
"This is literally the most romantic thing I've ever seen," she breathed. "It's like a Hallmark movie but with bad tofurkey!"
"Speaking of which," Heath said, glancing at the disaster on the table, "maybe we should consider an alternative dinner plan."
I looked at him helplessly. "Like what? Everything's closed for Thanksgiving."
"The church has their community Thanksgiving," Heath suggested. "They'll have plenty of food."
"Perfect," Dottie declared, standing up. "A true community celebration sounds delightful."
As everyone gathered coats and purses, Heath pulled me aside in the hallway. His fingers laced with mine, warm and calloused against my skin.
"Did you mean what you said?" he asked quietly. "About falling for me?"
I inclined my head, suddenly shy despite my earlier boldness. "Every word. Though the animal rights activist falling for the turkey farmer is quite the plot twist."
He chuckled, eyes crinkling. "No more surprising than the rancher falling for the lawyer he caught red-handed trying to steal his prized birds."
His hand cupped my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip. "We should probably join the others," he murmured, though he made no move to let go.
"Probably," I agreed, leaning into his touch.
The Thanksgiving dinner at First Baptist Church of Bitter Root was everything our home attempt wasn't—organized, abundant, and actually edible.
Long tables filled the fellowship hall, loaded with traditional dishes and desserts.
The scent of roast turkey, sweet potatoes, and freshly baked rolls hung in the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and the clink of silverware on plates.
The entire town seemed to be there, from Laverne and her daughter May, who wasted no time snapping photos for her blog, to many of the race participants I recognized from the Turkey Trot.
Children darted between tables while elderly couples sat together, hands occasionally touching in the comfortable way of people who've shared decades of meals.
We found seats together, our mismatched group fitting in surprisingly well with the community gathering.
Knox and Bitsy charmed everyone with tales of Austin life, while the Vickerys discussed cattle prices with local ranchers.
Heath kept his hand on my knee under the table, a constant reminder of our blossoming connection.
"This is nice," I whispered to him as we shared a slice of pumpkin pie.
"Better than tofurkey?" he teased.
"Much," I agreed. "Though I maintain that with proper instruction, I could make a decent one."
"I don't think even Julia Child could pull off such a feat," he laughed.
"Good thing you like me for more than my cooking skills."
His eyes softened. "Good thing."
As the evening wound down, people began drifting home, full of food and goodwill.
We all piled into our vehicles in the church parking lot - the Vickerys in their luxury RV, Knox and Bitsy in their BMW, and Heath and I in his truck.
After a caravan back to the ranch, everyone dispersed with warm goodnights.
The Vickerys remained in their RV parked in the drive, promising to finalize investment details in the morning.
Knox and Bitsy disappeared into the guest room, with Bitsy already planning Instagram posts about their "authentic small-town Thanksgiving experience. "
Heath and I found ourselves alone in the now-quiet house. The moon hung low and full over the rolling hills outside, casting silver light through the windows. We stood in the living room, neither of us making a move to separate.
"What happens now?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.
Heath turned toward me, his face half-shadowed in the moonlight. "Five days ago, I caught you trespassing on my property in the middle of the night. Now I can't imagine my life without you in it."
My breath caught at the raw emotion in his voice.
"The arrangement is over," he continued. "The Vickerys are on board. You've fulfilled your end of the bargain. You're free to go back to Austin, back to your life."
"And if I don't want to?" I ventured, heart hammering.
Instead of answering with words, he stepped toward me and kissed me—not the desperate passion of our first time, but something deeper, more intentional. His hand cradled the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as the kiss deepened.
When we broke apart, both breathing harder, he pressed his forehead against mine. "I think that's a good start."
"Just a start?" I whispered, my hands sliding up his chest.
His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me flush against him, his mouth claiming mine with renewed hunger, all pretense of restraint abandoned.
"Bedroom," I gasped between kisses.
With a quick nod, Heath led me down the hall, our footsteps hushed against the hardwood. We slipped into his room, careful to close the door quietly behind us, aware of the thin walls and nearby guests.
The moment the latch clicked, we collided again - hands seeking, breath mingling.
His touch traced fire along my skin as buttons gave way and fabric fell to the floor.
Everything that had happened since our first kiss after the foaling - the doubts, the arguments, the confession tonight - melted away.
At the edge of his bed, he paused, his gaze holding mine in the soft darkness. Then he lowered me onto the mattress with a care that made my heart ache even as desire coursed through me.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, his eyes traveling over me with an appreciation that made me feel more desired than I'd ever been.
I pulled him down to me, savoring the weight of him, the solid reality of his body against mine.
His lips traced paths down my neck to my collarbone, across my breasts, drawing sighs and gasps from me as my hands mapped the planes of his back, the strength in his shoulders, the texture of his hair between my fingers.
When his mouth closed around my nipple, my back arched off the bed, a moan escaping my lips.
His tongue circled the sensitive peak before gently grazing it with his teeth, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core.
I guided his mouth to my other breast, greedy for the sensation, as his hand slid down my stomach and lower still.
When his fingers found my center, already slick with desire, I gasped his name. He watched my face as he stroked me, learning what made me tremble, what drew sounds of pleasure from deep in my throat.
"Heath," I breathed, "I need to feel you."
Instead, he moved down my body, his mouth replacing his fingers.
The first stroke of his tongue nearly undid me.
He took his time, alternating between broad sweeps and focused attention on the bundle of nerves that had me clutching at the sheets.
When he slid one finger inside me, then two, curling them to find the spot that made my vision blur, I came undone beneath him.
Before the aftershocks had subsided, I reached for him, desperate to touch him, to taste him. He moved up my body, but I pushed against his shoulders, rolling him onto his back.
"My turn," I whispered, pressing kisses down his chest, following the trail of hair that led lower.
When I took his thick erection in my hand, he hissed with pleasure. When I replaced my hand with my mouth, the sound he made was nearly enough to bring me to the edge again. I explored his cock with my lips and tongue, teasing the tip while I stroked his shaft with a rhythm that made him groan.
"Fuck," he finally said abruptly, pulling me roughly back up his body. "I need to be inside you, Honey—now."
When he flipped me over and pushed himself inside my wet and ready entrance, my breath caught at the intensity in his eyes.
"Heath," I breathed as the tension coiled tighter, my body arching against his as I spiraled towards ecstasy.
"I've got you," he promised, his voice rough with emotion.
When release claimed me, it was like falling and flying at once, waves of sensation radiating outward from where we were joined. Heath followed moments later, shuddering against me as he spilled his seed deep into my core.
Afterward, we lay tangled in sheets and each other, his heartbeat slowing beneath my cheek. One of his hands traced lazy patterns on my bare shoulder while the other held mine over his chest.
"So," I said, once I'd caught my breath, "do you think we've figured it out yet?"
He chuckled, the sound rumbling under my ear. "I think we're off to a promising start."
"A business arrangement with benefits?"
"More like a relationship with a solid foundation," he corrected gently. "We already know the worst about each other. I know you're a terrible cook who can't tell east from west, and you know I'm a stubborn cowboy with trust issues."
"And somehow I still like you," I marveled, propping myself up to look at him.
"Imagine that." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "The city lawyer and the small-town rancher."
"It does sound like the start of a bad joke," I admitted.
"Or the very best kind of story," he suggested, pulling me closer.
Outside, a gentle rain began to fall, tapping against the roof in a soothing rhythm. The room smelled of us—of intimacy and new beginnings. Whatever came next—returning to Austin, figuring out logistics, dealing with the complications of real life—would come tomorrow.
Tonight was for us. For the unexpected gift that had grown from the strangest of beginnings.
"Happy Thanksgiving," I whispered against his lips.
His smile, visible even in the darkness, was answer enough.