Chapter 8 Elliot
ELLIOT
It’s dark when I finally return to the ranch.
The kitchen light above the stove is on, but the house is otherwise quiet.
For a beat, I fear Kayleigh has run off in my absence.
I check my phone for the tenth time since I drove under the Bishop Ranch arch, but there’s no new notifications.
Max would’ve alerted me had Kayleigh tried to make a run for it.
Instead, I’ve been flooded all day with pictures of Kayleigh right at home with my horses.
She’s been a goddamn distraction all day, but I’m not even that mad about it. How long has it been since a woman got under my skin this way? I know Kayleigh’s not staying. I know there’s no future here. But all day long I’ve been thinking of ways to keep her.
Maybe I could offer her an internship.
Meatloaf lets out a yowl as he struts up to me on the bench near the back door, weaving between my legs as I kick off my boots.
“Hey, buddy.”
Kayleigh would never leave without her cat. Relief instantly uncoils the tension in my shoulders.
“He really likes you.”
I snap my head up to the sight of Kaylee in another one of my T-shirts—an old Garth Brooks concert one—and bare legs. Her feet are covered in Christmas-themed fuzzy socks that stretch up a couple of inches above her ankles, and I let my gaze drag up.
“I’m not wearing any panties,” she says, flashing me proof. “You just seem to steal them all anyway.”
“I’m not fucking you.”
She shrugs. “So you say.”
“You hungry?”
“What did you have in mind? There’s aren’t any Christmas cookies left. I shared them with your ranch hands. Thought I’d make a better impression with everyone if I showed up bearing gifts.”
“I’ll take you tomorrow,” I promise.
“What?”
“To town. To get presents for your family. I’ll take you tomorrow.”
Do I have fucking time to shop? No, not even five minutes to spare considering I spent all day handling my idiot son and cleaning up his mess.
Kayleigh won’t know until after she’s on the plane Christmas Eve, but her tuition is paid in full.
The money she’ll be paid from the auction is hers to keep.
Adam won’t be stealing another dime from her.
“Why?”
“Don’t you need gifts?”
“Yes, but—”
“Try saying thank you.”
Kayleigh meets me when I stand, using those soft palms to help me out of my flannel coat.
“It feels a little foreign to say, but I’ll try it on for size.
” She hooks my coat on the hanger. I try not to notice the way my shirt rides up her body when she lifts on tiptoes to reach the hook, but dammit, I’m only a man. “Thank you, Elliot.”
She follows me to the kitchen as I pull out the ingredients to make us a couple of BLTs.
“I haven’t had one of these since my mom…”
“You miss her?”
“Yeah. Christmas was one of her favorite times.”
“You only have one sister?” I ask, trying like hell not to sound like I care too much. Or like I might have done a little bit of research on the future Dr. Kayleigh Kingston so I wouldn’t be so blindsided the next time she shared a simple detail of her life with me.
“Alida.” She takes a bite of the BLT I prepared for her, and I try not to watch the tomato juice run down her chin. Okay, so I don’t try that hard.
She dabs it away with a napkin, and fuck if I’m not jealous of that stupid square piece of paper.
“You’re close?”
“Very.” She takes another bite, and this time when the tomato juice dribbles down, it makes a fast track down her neck. I catch it with a napkin, and Kayleigh stares at me, licking her lips.
I’m reminded she’s not wearing any panties.
And what I’m really hungry for is not a BLT.
It’s her.
“You have any siblings?” she asks.
“Not by blood, no.”
“But Max?” she guesses easily enough as I return my focus to my plate of food.
It doesn’t do much to ward off the craving I have for her. The temptation to drop to my knees in front of her barstool and savor the sweet flavor of her pussy.
“Brothers in arms.”
“You were military?”
“Does that surprise you, sweetheart?”
She studies me a moment, looking me up and down. My dick twitches in approval.
“No, I can see it.”
“Max is the closest thing to family I have left. My dad passed a few years ago, and I took over the ranch. We weren’t close. Not really.”
“Your mom?”
“Passed when I was young.”
Kayleigh reaches a hand to my thigh, caressing me through the denim. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“You ever been married?”
“No.”
“Never?”
I tense, wanting to talk about anything else. “No.”
“Why not?”
“You about done with your plate?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then we’re done with this conversation.”
“Elliot—”
“End of discussion.”
She follows me to the sink, hovering behind me as I rinse off our plates.
My shoulders tense as I anticipate the questions about Adam’s mom.
The bitterness churns in my stomach hotter than normal, considering the nature of my errands today.
My entitled son will be staying in Mexico for the foreseeable future if he wishes to avoid jail time.
Never again will I allow him to take advantage of Kayleigh.
“I’m sorry if I brought up a sore subject,” she says softly.
“We’re done talking about this.”
“I know.” She waits until I turn toward her, and sucks in her bottom lip. “I just have one more unrelated question.”
“What’s that?”
She lifts the T-shirt once more, flashing her bare pussy. “Did you leave room for dessert?”