Chapter 2
2
SERENITY
I 'm a curvy woman in wrinkled clothes. I obviously don't belong in his world, I'm way too young for him, and the ruggedly handsome cowboy trying his best to fold what has to be a good six foot, four inches of Levis, flannel, and muscle into the cramped seat of the small plane beside me could have his pick of any girl he winks at.
I bet he's on his way back home to a house full of kids and his high school sweetheart homecoming queen wife now.
There's no way the interest he seems to have taken in me is anything more than polite.
My eyes take advantage of the question he just asked me, using the excuse to look his way to slide to where his left hand-- his very bare, with no-trace-of-a-tan-line, left hand-- rests on the top of his thigh while I tell him about my business in Slow River Valley.
Just before we're asked to put our seats and tray tables up and turn our electronics off, the man beside me checks his phone one more time.
A picture of a blonde woman flashes on the screen in his hands and I catch a glimpse of the words "...excited to see you..." in the message the accompanies it.
Not that I'm spying, mind you. But seeing the woman in the photo is a healthy wake-up call to keep my expectations in check.
She's a skinny blonde with big boobs and a vivacious smile, wearing a bright pink t-shirt with a low V-neck.
Everything about the woman in the picture screams exact opposite of me.
She was probably the high school homecoming queen...head cheerleader...woman he's going home to. Ring or no ring.
So when he shuts down his phone and asks me about the boyfriend he assumes I've left behind in the city, I'm one hundred percent sure he's just making polite conversation.
"So, no boyfriend back in the city then?"
"No. No boyfriend."
He seems genuinely surprised that I'm single.
I could swear I see his eyes darken, the pupils widening in the soft hazel irises before a smiles ghosts his lips.
"You've got one now."
"Excuse me?"
My head tilts to one side as if the sand that's obviously gotten in my ears might pour out so I can hear better.
"Hear me out-- you're headed to the valley to do a bunch of research on the local history, right?"
The man beside me leans in, looking far more serious than anyone with those words coming out of their mouth should be.
"So you must already have a list of the people and places you're going to be researching, right?"
I nod cautiously, keenly aware that I'm trapped between the plane's window and the man talking crazy next to me.
"Wouldn't you rather spend your week meetin' the actual families that run those ranches? Maybe touring some of the places? Hearing the family stories that didn't make it into the papers?"
"Well, yeah," I admit hesitantly, "that'd be great. I tried to set up interviews with several of the ranch families but most of them never returned my calls, and the ones that did made it clear they weren't interested.
"The only way I'd be able to get those interviews if I had a local connection."
At that, his handsome face breaks into a full-on grin. The soft caramel eyes creasing at the corners to show how deep the lines there really go. The stubbled jawline growing sharper, white teeth flashing behind lips that should absolutely not have me listening so intently to what he's proposing.
"Name's Ranger." He extends his right hand for a shake to go with his overdue introduction. "Ranger O'Leary. My dad was Kenny Daniel O'Leary. My grandfather was Michael Ryan O'Leary-- any of them names happen to be in your research notes, by chance?"
His hand holds mine firmly but gently in what surpasses an ordinary handshake, and I tell myself that the uptick in my heart rate has nothing to do with the leathery warmth of his calloused hand wrapped around mine.
Ranger O'Leary, eldest son of Kenneth Daniel O'Leary, and heir to the legendary Delta O ranch is watching recognition dawn across my face, holding my hand and asking me to-- what, exactly, I don't even know yet-- and it's just the prospect of scoring a personal interview with the biggest name on my research list that has me struggling to remember to breathe; and certainly not the way his throat works in a tight swallow or the way the pad of his thumb softly brushes over the pulse point in my wrist.
"Look, I haven't been back home in years," he seems reluctant to let go of my hand, but finally, Ranger releases me and sinks back against his seat. "My dad passed away a few months ago. He'd been battling cancer for the better part of a decade. We knew it was going to get him eventually; we just weren't ready for him to go down so quick once things turned.
"His funeral is tomorrow, and after that, I have to spend my time patching up some sore spots with my brothers and figuring out how we'll be handling running the ranch from here on out.
"It'd make my life a hell of a lot easier if I could show up with a pretty little thing like you on my arm to convince my mom that I'm off the market and don't need her help in findin' me a wife. Give me some time to get settled in without the extra drama."
My mouth literally drops open. I can't believe he's really suggesting this. It's crazy; but then he makes me an offer that's hard to say no to.
"Be my girl for the week. I'll introduce you around, make sure you get to talk to the people you need to talk to and get your first-hand accounts of the family histories that you won't be finding in the library basement."
Ranger
Pretty eyes open round as saucers as those plump lips open in a perfect little "O" that has me wanting to slide my thumb between them. Then the tip of her tongue pokes out and sweeps over that lower lip and God help me-- because I know she's only looking at me like that because she's thinking about what I'm offering her, but I'm lost.
I'm as good as gone and I know I'll be offering her a helluva lot more than just a few introductions around town if she'll allow me.
Our little conversation has taken up most of the short flight time and the captain's voice is telling us we're already beginning our descent while I wait for the angel beside me to deliver my salvation.
The lights go on to buckle seat-belts and the attendants make their way up the aisle, checking on seat-belts and tray tables.
The mountain ranges drop away under us, and the long valley comes into view with the wide, lazy river it's named for running through it.
But it's not until the U Seri's a vision. But she takes it as a compliment to her name and I supposed that's for the best, really.
"Thanks. it took me a long time to love it. I always wanted a normal name like Michelle or Brittany."
"I like Serenity," I assure her as we sit back and prepare for the plane to touch down as the runway's blacktop surface rushes up beneath us.
As the plane brings us up to the gate and comes to stop, I fill Seri in on the details she's most likely to need to know and then listen intently to her answers to my own questions.
"This is ridiculous." I hear her mutter under her breath as we wait for our fellow passengers to clear the aisle.
I cover her hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze.
She's right, of course. Pretending to be in a relationship with a stranger I met not an hour ago is insane. Pretending to be in a relationship with Serenity, well, I can say for certain that's not something I'm likely to have a lot of trouble with. I just hope Seri can manage well enough to convince everyone she's really head over heels for a rough old geezer like me.
Lord knows she's outta my league , I think to myself as I carry our bags in one hand, with my other firmly wrapped around Seri's-- for show, of course-- as we make our way across the tarmac and into the single building that makes up the entirety of the Slow River Municipal Airport.
"So how in love are we supposed to be?" She squeezes my hand and asks the question with a bit of a giggle that has me looking forward to hearing it again.
Stopping in my tracks, I pull her back to me with a tug on our joined hands.
Seri pivots on the toe of her high heels, spinning in place before snapping back my way where she stops just shy of running into me, her hands resting against my chest and so close she has to crane her neck to look up at me.
Running my hands down her arms, I lean in close and answer her question-- not leaving a bit of room for confusion.
" Madly ."