Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Sunny
Oh no.
Oh yes.
Delight at realizing Iverson isn’t completely out of my life dominates the emotions swirling in my stomach. Until his face pales and his expression begs for someone to put him out of his misery.
I don’t have to ask why. Daddy is notorious for keeping his staff separate from the guests who pay exorbitant amounts of money to experience Montana ranch life. He’s even worse about me and my little sisters.
I didn’t grow up in the guest lodge, or the big house as we sometimes call it.
Our home is closer to town and farthest away from anything to do with the guests or the employees.
Daddy said he wanted us to have a normal life.
We shouldn’t grow up feeling entitled—we were—or to think we had everyone waiting on us—we did.
It wasn’t until I went away for college that I saw how good I had it.
And how isolated I was. Walking into a job that was saved just for me doesn’t feel as empowering as Daddy thinks it should.
He says he raised us to be critical-thinking individuals.
But he raised us to do what he wants us to do in life.
I give a shocked Iverson a hesitant smile, and his eyes only widen.
Hurt clenches in my stomach, but I force a bigger grin and meet everyone’s eyes. They all look at me like I’m in a cage at the zoo.
Here, we have the endangered Jamison Hawthorne. She was raised in a crystal bubble, wanting for nothing and going horseback riding whenever she felt like it. When she was sent outside for chores, it was more like play because she, in fact, did not have to do chores every day of the week.
When young Jamison was sent to college, her daddy cut her off—sort of. Yet she knew that once she finished with her bachelor’s degree and her master’s, she had a job waiting for her.
Yes, look at Jamison Hawthorne. She walked right into a six-figure job while many of her classmates are trying to raise kids on poverty wages.
The hard part is—I do want this job. I love my home. I love Hawthorne Ranch and providing rustic experiences for others that I was lucky enough to be born with. But I don’t want to be stuffed into a cage to do it.
“Hey, everyone.” I wave, and my gaze travels back to those wide shoulders.
He isn’t dressed much differently than when I met him at Bootleg last night, but damn, he looks good. Even better in broad daylight. Wide shoulders. Square jaw. Powerful stance.
The two guys next to him look from him to me.
One’s brows are raised high enough to disappear under the brim of his hat.
A shocked smile plays over the lips of the other.
They both have dark hair sticking out from under their cowboy hats, with shoulders just as wide as Iverson’s. Their stances resemble his.
Clarity washes through my veins, cooling me from the sun beating down on us. Iverson is one of the three brothers Daddy always talked about. He never said their names, just called them the three brothers, and he’d often reference the oldest as the supervisor.
Why did he have to be an employee of my dad’s?
The crowd murmurs their greeting. Except for Iverson. His gaze is glued on me from under the brim of his hat, and his mouth is set in a hard line.
Quivers run through my belly.
Daddy’s talking, and I struggle to pay attention. “So if you see her around, just know that she knows what she’s talking about.”
I smile. How strained does it look? Daddy makes it sound like I’m going to boss everyone around. He’d probably let me.
“Back to work,” he says, and the crowd disperses.
People block me from Iverson, but when I catch sight of him, there’s nothing but his back to see.
That’s it, then. He’s Team Daddy. He gave me an amazing night, but since I’m a Hawthorne, that’s all we can have.
Maybe he’s not interested in me.
The several rounds of sex in the pickup say otherwise.
Daddy’s words growing up filter through my head.
Guys like that, Jamison, they commit to themselves.
They work these jobs for the excitement and because, ultimately, the responsibility isn’t there.
The buck stops at me, not them. It gives them a freedom they can’t get and that filters into their relationships.
Men like these, Jamison. They’re not good for you.
I don’t know Iverson. But I want to.
Yet he mounts a gorgeous buckskin mare and rides away.
It doesn’t matter if Iverson is the best man in the world for me.
A guy who can ride away from me like that either doesn’t want me or doesn’t want to risk his job for me.
As much as I tell myself it doesn’t matter and we only agreed on one night together, I’m left with an emptiness in my chest when he rides away.
Iverson
I have one brother on each side, staring at me.
“You’re going to run your horses into Burgundy if you don’t pay attention,” I growl.
“Jamison Hawthorne,” Durban says.
“What about her?” I know exactly what they’re getting at. My slip-up saying her nickname will be one of my many regrets in life.
“ Jamison .” Haven sucks his lips against his teeth. “Jami. Son. Jami. Son.”
“Son.” Durban takes over. “A lot like Sunny, isn’t it, Haven?”
“I can see the connection,” Haven replies.
I crane my head around. Is anyone listening to their bullshit? The others are taking a different path back, probably to check the fence like I told them to.
Durban rubs his chin. “I wonder if I ask Sunny if she had a late night last night, what she’d say.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I snap. They would too. If I refuse to admit I know exactly what Jamison looks like naked in the dark, they’ll find a way to get their answers.
“Jesus, Ivy. You fucked the boss’s daughter?”
I grind my molars together. Yes. What happened last night was more than fucking. Was it the same for her?
Doesn’t matter, jackass . Nothing’s ever going to happen. Not as long as I want to work.
“She undressed you with her eyes.” Haven rests his hands on the pommel of his saddle. We don’t have to do much. The horses are used to crossing these pastures side by side, and they prefer going back to their familiar grass and water tank.
“She did not. I’m nothing but a hookup that I hope she never talks about.”
“Most girls don’t mention that to their dad.” Durban makes a disgruntled noise. “We’d better hope she doesn’t. Otherwise, William is going to cook all of us, not just you.”
“Then you might have to beg Myles for an offer,” Haven adds.
If my brothers and I get fired, it’ll be all my fault.
William can make our life hell. We all have heard stories about how strict he is when it comes to his daughters.
Guys long before me were fired for hitting on them, smiling too brightly, and saying something suggestive.
William Hawthorne does not play in business, and when it comes to his family, he’s cutthroat.
Not many of the ranch hands were around before Jamison left for college. Her sisters are gone for school too, but the stories have been passed down. Mingling’s not allowed in any way, shape, or form.
I indulged in my baser needs last night, and I’ve left myself and my brothers vulnerable. Myles Foster can boast all he wants about helping fellow fosters, but he’s a smart enough businessman to know he holds all the cards.
I made us vulnerable.
The regret about Sunny isn’t hitting as hard and deep as it should. I don’t regret her. I regret what I can’t have. If I thought I couldn’t give her anything in the wee hours of the morning, I sure as hell have nothing for her now.