Chapter 5 Reine
CHAPTER FIVE
REINE
I walk into The Feedlot with my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. This place is definitely above my pay grade.
It's all dark mahogany paneling and crystal chandeliers that cast honeyed light across white tablecloths.
The air smells like seared ribeye and old money.
Even the hostess—with her sleek blonde bob and crimson lipstick that doesn't dare smudge—looks like she's mentally calculating my net worth and finding me lacking as I wobble across the polished floor in my four-year-old heels that pinch my toes and make my ankles feel like they might snap with each step.
I do my best to keep it together as I scan the room, praying all the while that my nerves aren’t written all over me. Not that anyone seems to notice. My palms are slick with sweat, and my heart pounds so hard I half-expect someone across the room to hear it.
The place is mostly empty at this hour, shadows tucked in the corners, and only a low hum of conversation, but my gaze lands on Cole right away. I’m not shocked to find he’s already here, settled in at a table near the back, all long limbs and lazy arrogance, like he owns the whole damn place.
As he looks up, our eyes meet, and he gives me a killer smile. Holy. Shit. That smile should be illegal. My knees wobble. I nearly combust on the spot when his eyes drag slowly down my body.
His smile is slow and molten. “Wow, Montana. You are so goddamn gorgeous.”
My face goes up in flames. Gorgeous? I feel like an awkward giraffe who wandered into a five-star restaurant by accident.
My dress is so simple compared to the other women I passed on my way in, but the way he looks at me?
Like I’m the only thing he wants to eat for dinner.
My pussy clenches just thinking about what he’d do to me if we weren’t in public.
“Uh. Thanks.” I don’t mean to stammer, but my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth.
“You clean up pretty well yourself.” Understatement of the century.
All that corded muscle and sun-streaked hair, packed into a black button-up that hugs his broad shoulders and stretches across his chest with each breath.
The sleeves strain around his biceps, and there's something dangerous in the way he leans forward, knuckles resting on the table, like he's two seconds from dragging me onto his lap and having dessert right here in front of everyone.
Looks like he knew exactly what he was doing when he changed from the navy suit before meeting me for lunch.
Cole stands as I approach. The way he moves is pure sex and swagger, all heat and focus zeroed in on me.
My breath stutters when he helps me slide into the booth, brushing his hand along my back.
The heat of his palm flashes through the thin material of my dress, sending goosebumps skittering down my spine.
My girly parts sing the song of their people as I sit back against the cool leather.
Cole slides in beside me, way too close considering the acres of empty booth. His thigh presses against mine, all heat and solid muscle, and I nearly whimper. I brace myself for small talk, but nope, he just zeroes in like a heat-seeking missile.
“Comfortable?” His voice is low, teasing, sending shivers straight to my core.
If he only knew. My brain’s short-circuiting, my pulse a staccato drum line.
I try to act normal, but my voice comes out all husky.
“No. I’d rather be at home in my comfy pjs watching reality TV.
I don’t belong at fancy steakhouses.” I’m not sure what it is about him that makes me want to blurt out the unvarnished truth, but here I am, telling him all my secrets.
Cole leans closer, his arm stretching along the back of the booth, caging me in like I’m dessert and he skipped dinner just to devour me. “You belong anywhere you want, sweetheart. If someone makes you feel out of place, I’ll gladly show them the error of their ways.”
Oh, Jesus. I’m seconds from melting right through this fancy leather seat.
The waitress glides over with a tray in her hands and a look that says she’s seen it all, but even she does a double-take when she sees Cole pressed up against me like he’s staking his claim. I try to remember how to breathe as she sets down two glasses of ice water and hands us our menus.
Cole doesn’t give her a second glance. His entire focus is on me. Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t spontaneously combusted from the heat coming off him. I can feel his stare sliding up the length of my bare thigh under the table, and it takes all my willpower not to squirm.
“Would you like to start with drinks?” The waitress smiles, but her eyes are locked on Cole like she’s hoping he’ll look her way. Fat chance.
Cole leans in, voice rough as sin. “Do you want a drink, Montana?” His thumb strokes along my shoulder, slow and warm, and it takes everything in me not to turn into a puddle right there in the booth.
Holy. Shit. He’s barely touching me, but my body’s already in full meltdown.
I try to play it cool, but my nipples are so hard under this dress, there’s no way he hasn’t noticed.
I fight the urge to squirm, which is totally unfair because the man is sitting so close I can smell him.
Not aftershave or cologne, just clean skin, a hint of woodsmoke, and something that makes my brain short-circuit.
I don’t know what it is, but I want to bottle it and bathe in it.
“Uh, I’ll take a glass of red wine. Whatever’s house.” My voice comes out way too breathy.
Cole grins at the waitress and barely glances her way. “Bottle of your best red and a whiskey neat for me.” The poor girl trips over her two feet, heading away with our order.
The instant she leaves, Cole turns, closing the gap between us. I can feel the wall of heat pouring off him, and every rational neuron in my brain freezes up.
“Hell, I could drown in those eyes of yours, Montana. I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my damn life.
” His voice is so deep it vibrates right through my chest, making my nipples ache, and my thighs clench tighter under the table.
If he keeps looking at me like that, someone is going to have to mop up the booth.
My rational side decides now is the right moment to step in and ruin things. “I thought we were here to discuss Thunderbolt.”
He doesn’t even blink. “We can discuss Thunderbolt later. After we get to know each other.”
“What do you want to know?” Maybe some normal conversation will give me the chance to cool my jets a little.
Cole studies me for a second, then leans back. “So, tell me the real story. Why’d you have to sell Thunderbolt?”
The words hit like a punch. “Not much mystery,” I say, picking at the white, starched napkin in my lap. “My mother’s husband bailed last winter, sold my mother’s third of the ranch to a shady investment firm, and cleaned out all of our savings.” It’s embarrassing to admit it.
He nods, slow, not pitying—just listening. “I’ll need the information on that investment firm so we can figure out what you’re dealing with.”
“When did this suddenly become your problem?” I’m not going to lie; the thought of someone else helping me deal with this nightmare sounds like heaven, but I’m not ready to trust this is real.
“The moment I laid eyes on you in Molly’s Diner, I knew you belonged to me.” I blink several times, wondering if I just stepped into the fucking Twilight Zone. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”
The words hit me like a freight train. My brain goes on lockdown.
For a second, I can’t even breathe. Is this man for real?
My heart does a weird little flip that has nothing to do with me skipping breakfast and lunch and everything to do with the six-foot-five wall of muscle currently caging me in like I’m the last cupcake at a birthday party and he’s got a mean sugar addiction.
My mouth opens and closes several times while the neurons in my brain struggle to fire. “That’s… wow. That’s moving fast,” I manage, sounding like a total idiot.
Cole’s smile warms me from the inside out. “We can slow things down a little if you want, but all I really want is to drag you home and keep you there until you forget your own name.” Cole’s voice is pure rough velvet, the kind that makes my panties disintegrate and my brain leak out of my ears.
I don’t want to. Not even a little. My body is already running ten steps ahead of my brain, and my brain is waving a white flag and screaming for mercy.
I clear my throat. “You barely know me.”
Cole’s thumb traces hot circles on my shoulder, and his mouth tips up in a wicked grin.
“I know enough. I know you’re honest, loyal, stubborn as a goddamn mule, and the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I know you’ll put your ranch ahead of your own happiness, and it makes me want to take care of you even more. ”
Holy. Shit. I want to laugh it off, but my chest goes tight, and tears prick my eyes. No one has ever looked at me like that. I could definitely get used to this, but I’m having trouble believing this is real.