13 #2
“Not very much,” she admits, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
Her blue-eyed gaze bounces around the room, taking in the furnishings.
Framed rodeo prints of cowboys in varying positions of being flung line the walls.
Rustic rugs protect the hardwood floors.
Charcoal-gray beams lift the ceiling to sky-high levels.
She stares a beat at the dramatic stone wall fireplace with deer antlers over the mantle. “I like your cabin. It’s cozy.”
I chuckle. “You wouldn’t say that when you get all my brothers together. It’s more of a madhouse.”
She giggles, and my chest clenches. That laugh. It’s enough to push my self-control to the limit.
“I finished the June calendar.” Tucking her legs beneath her, she settles back against the recliner. Her short shorts ride up and expose the curve of her supple ass.
I lift my beer. “Saw the first post.”
Her mouth curves. “Unimpressive, I know. For now.”
“I hope it works, Ruby. I really do, because right now you’re our Hail Mary.”
She considers this. “I hope so, too. I think it will. I sent my employer your information. They’re a luxury travel planner. They’re reaching out to their partners.” She tilts her head. “I also messaged some rodeo stars that Wyatt’s rode with. Cade Elliott and Nash Mason. They said they’d help.”
I nod, impressed by Ruby’s tenacity. I realize I haven’t given her or her job enough credit. “Big names.”
“Well, we need big guns.” Her pretty face softens, and she studies me. “I’m not going to let them trash you, Charlie. It’s your ranch and we’ll save it.”
Right now, her determined words are the light I need. Scrubbing a hand down my beard, I lean in. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“This. So positive. So happy.” I let out a breath, the weight of the last week stacking on my shoulders. “You seem so damn sure that everything will work out. If I had half of what you did, I’d actually have some hope for once in my life.”
A shadow passes across her face. “I just ...I try not to worry about the future. I know it’s easier said than done, but I try to live in the now.
I’m thankful for the day I have because you never know how long it’ll last.” For a brief second, her eyes cloud, then she smiles. “I think of my sunflower.”
“Your what?”
“Sunflower and thorn. It’s a game my brother and I’ve played since we were little.
Your sunflower for the day is something happy that happened, like fireball happy.
Thorn is your typical not-so-great shitty thing.
” Eyes lighting up, she stands and moves to sit on the coffee table in front of me.
Our knees touch, just a soft graze, but sparks flare in my gut. “Here. You do it.”
“Ruby—”
“C’mon,” she coaxes. “Try it.” Then my hand is in hers and she’s settling it on her warm thigh. “Tell me your sunflower for today.”
I grunt. “Didn’t have one.”
She frowns, her nose wrinkling with the motion, and damn if she doesn’t look cute. “Charlie, everyone has a sunflower.”
“Not today.” Not for a damn long time.
Ruby sits straighter, determined to pull something out of me. “Your thorn then?”
I want to refuse, to push, to growl, but the way she’s staring me down with those big blue eyes, I lose the battle.
Something tells me I always will with this woman.
“It’s not just the video threatening the ranch,” I say, and Ruby raises her brows. “We got some big-time developers on our asses. That car you saw last week—those folks offered to buy the ranch. I said no, and they got pissy about it. But ...sometimes I think I should have said yes.”
“Why?”
“Because of my brothers.” I glance down at her hand, the past sliding beneath my skin. “Sometimes I think they’d be better off elsewhere. They all followed me out to Montana. Gave up everything to help my ass out. Ford was in the major leagues. Davis in the military.”
Ruby squeezes my hand. “Why’d they follow you?”
I tip the lip of my beer toward her. “Why you runnin’?”
She juts her chin, defiant. “Who says I’m running?”
“I do. Why?”
“Why’s it called Runaway Ranch?”
Fine. Point taken. Her refusal to tell me why she’s here is bothering me more than I want to admit. Still. It’s her right.
I exhale. “This isn’t what my brothers signed up for and they’re stuck because of me.”
“You love the ranch,” she says.
“I do. But I love my brothers more. Sometimes what I’m doin’ to ‘em ...if I sold the ranch, everyone could get back to their own lives.”
Ruby’s eyes get big at my reveal. “Have you told them that?”
It takes me a second before I can look at her. “No,” I say grimly. “I don’t want them to worry about me. They’ve done enough.”
Fuck.
I feel gutted. It’s the first time I’ve admitted out loud how damn guilty I feel. This wide-eyed girl keeps sideswiping my heart and blowing all my expectations out of the water. She listens like she cares. Like she understands.
“Oh, Charlie,” Ruby breathes. She squeezes my hand for the second time and I tighten my grip on her so she can’t go anywhere. “You should tell them.”
“Yeah.” I give her a nod. “Maybe.”
For a moment, the only sound in the house is the rhythmic spin of the washing machine.
“What about you?” I ask, clearing my throat. “What was your sunflower?”
She thinks about it. “You know what? This actually. Tonight,” she decides and hits me with a blazing smile. “I like talking with you, Cowboy. When you don’t yell.”
Damn. Speared in the heart.
I’m not used to this. Having someone around to talk to.
After a long day spent on the ranch, I usually have a beer, do some paperwork, and hit the hay.
I don’t spend the night talking to a beautiful woman.
Ruby’s taking my logic, my good common sense, my routine, and smashing it to fucking smithereens.
“I promised,” I rasp, leaning forward. “I won’t yell, Ruby. Not at you. Never again.”
Before I can stop myself, I run my palm up her hand to encircle her delicate wrist. My rough fingers graze her soft skin, skimming the pulse that beats there, and it’s like a tether between us snaps taut.
Ruby lets out a small whimper and my cock jumps in my pants.
We sit staring too long, her hand still in mine. My lungs burn. I can feel the heat of her heartbeat pulsing against my fingertips.
Ruby watches me through heavy-lidded eyes. “Charlie,” she whispers.
My gaze drops to her full red lips. Unable to help myself, I tuck a lock of rose-gold hair behind her ear.
Then I slide my hand over the high arch of her cheekbone.
Her long lashes flutter with surprise. Lust flames in those pretty baby blue eyes.
Instead of pulling away, Ruby tilts her head, letting me cradle her face in my palm.
Fuck it.
I lean in, ready to crush her mouth against mine, when a violent rattling noise comes from the hall.
I tense and freeze.
Ruby jerks back, her cheeks flushed pink. “The laundry. I need to get the laundry.”
Adorably frazzled, she hops up and disappears fast down the hall. The swing of her hips, the curve of that ass, causes my body to react in ways I didn’t know existed.
Shit.
A muscle jumps in my jaw. I war with myself, head versus heart versus cock.
Wanting this is wrong. But I do.
I want her.
I want to be inside of her, kissing those pouty red lips. I want to scrape my beard all over that pretty pink skin and rub it raw. I want to fuck her senseless and have her fucking own me.
Then, every ounce of control snaps, and I shove up off the couch and follow her down the hall.