Chapter 3
Daisy: These negotiators get hotter every time.
Nour: Not my type. What did you tell him?
Daisy: Do you have eyes? That man is every woman’s type.
Nour: Answer my question.
Daisy: I told him he just missed your dad and sent him to the office. Also, how do you know what your type is??
Nour: Save the lecture for another time.
Daisy: Oh honey, we’re not 15 anymore. You don’t get bonus points for holding onto your V-card. It’s time to come to the dark side.
Daisy: Ha, COME to the dark side. That was PUN-intentional. God, I’m good.
NOUR
“Miss Landry, let’s try this again, shall we?” The deep growl from behind makes my spine snap straight.
Casting my eyes sideways, I see six-feet-whatever of dark, glowering male standing in the stall doorway.
I squash down the little part of me that notices the carved set of his square jaw behind a smattering of dark stubble.
Dark, mahogany eyes pin me in place beneath dark brows, his high cheekbones thrown into sharp relief by the overhead lamps.
Yes, this man is attractive on the outside, there is no denying that.
But so out of place here in his expensive suit and fancy shoes—that I’m pleased to see are now covered in dust—it’s almost laughable.
“Perhaps next time you’ll check your prejudice at the gate.” I tear my gaze from his and continue to scoop pellets of horse feed into the rubber bucket.
“An oversight on my part, I’ll admit. You have my apologies, Miss Landry.” His deep voice blends with the rattle of pellets hitting the bottom.
I’m not sure why, but his apology sends a spark of annoyance through my gut and I turn, glaring at him. “Take your slimy, half-assed apologies back to New York. They aren’t wanted or needed here, and neither are you.”
His nostrils flare and he takes a small step toward me. I’m suddenly struck by the sheer size of him, dwarfing the stall around him as thick muscles bulge beneath that sharply tailored suit. “How about you watch your fucking mouth and speak to me like an adult?”
I scoff, feeling heat bleed into my cheeks.
“How about you get the fuck off my property, asshole.” I spin around, grabbing the jug and scooping it full of water from the trough before dumping it on the dried beet pellets.
The horse next door lets out a high-pitched whinny and boots the door of its stall, as if sensing the tension swell.
I hear a muffled curse and turn to see the man swiping a large palm down his face. “This is not…look, I didn’t come here with the intention of souring relations—”
“Souring relations?” I huff out a laugh, cutting him off. “We don’t have relations to sour.”
“I want to make a deal, Miss Landry. One we can both walk away from happy,” he snaps, his brows pinching into a scowl as he closes the distance between us.
I get a hit of something sweet yet spicy at the same time as it tangles with fresh wood shavings and horses.
Something so masculine it makes my stomach clench.
I fist my hands on my hips. “For the last time, Sunpine Ranch is not for sale, so you can scurry on back to Manhattan and tell your boss—”
“I am the boss. My name is Logan Guerra, I’m the CEO of Guerra Industries.” His growl is so deep I feel the rumble in my chest.
I feel my eyes round in shock and then anger spikes in my gut, hot and fast. The weeks on end of suits showing up at my house and causing trouble.
The incessant letters. The calls. The low-ball offers.
“Well, in that case, Mr. Guerra”—I reach down and swipe up the rubber bucket that’s now full of sweet-smelling mulch—“you can take this as my final answer.”
I reach up on my tiptoes and swing the bucket up so that the entire contents fall right on top of his smarmy, stupid-handsome head with a wet smack.
***
“You did what?” Daisy’s jaw is practically swinging with astonishment as we sit in the wooden Adirondack chairs overlooking the pastures as the sun sets.
“Yup.” I smile as I take a sip of my beer and gaze at the tips of the silver birch trees that are stained a vivid gold from the last light spilling over the horizon.
Daisy tips her head back and howls with laughter, and it’s so infectious I find myself joining her. “W-what did he do?” She gasps as she wipes the moisture from her eyes.
I tap my lips before another giggle escapes. “He just kind of went very quiet and his face went all red…and then he just turned and stormed off.”
“As your barn manager, I have to tell you that’s a very irresponsible use of feed.” Even though she delivers the admonishment, she reaches her bottle over to me at the same time. I grin, clinking my beer neck against hers.
A soft sigh rattles out of my chest as my head hits the wooden chair back, gazing at the bluish bruised haze creeping in the sky above.
“Things are really bad though, Daisy. I reckon we have four months left in us before the money dries up.” The half-whispered confession hangs in the air like a tangible weight.
Daisy grunts and leans forward with her elbows planted on her knees. “Don’t bite my head off, but why aren’t you considering selling if things are really that hopeless?”
It’s a fair question. One I’ve asked myself a thousand times over.
“Well, the first problem with that is that what they are offering doesn’t cover the debt.
But, do you know what they plan to do with the place?
” I ask, rolling my head sideways to look at her.
She shakes her head once, all traces of humor gone from her familiar features.
“You see that ridge over to the east?” I point a slightly shaking finger in that direction.
Daisy narrows her eyes and follows my finger to the towering rock face that is slowly turning from gold to grey right before our eyes.
“Yup,” she says slowly, like she’s trying to prolong hearing the news she knows isn’t going to be good.
“They’re going to build a fat, fancy spa resort up there, but that’s not the worst part.
” I let out a dark snort of humorless laughter, my restless fingers peeling the label off my bottle.
“They’re going to build a fucking huge airport right where we’re sitting.
Steamroll the whole thing into concrete terminals and tourists. ”
Daisy physically rears back, her eyes wide as she slides them over to me.
She loves this place almost as much as I do.
Her parents are drug addicts who did very little for her, so she spent most of her youth with me, staying at my mom’s, or visiting this place in the summer.
It’s been her solace as much as mine. “That’s…
How can they do that?” She turns her gaze back to the landscape being slowly cloaked in dusk.
Finches and robins chirp sleepily from a nearby copse of spruce trees, the only addition to the acoustics of the field crickets in the overgrown grasses swishing behind the house.
It feels like a crime to consider that this might all be gone one day—the endless sweeping peace of nature rolling over grassy knolls and tops, through natural creeks and dips in the landscape.
“Because all they care about is money. They’re greedy. Barbaric.” I shrug, crumpling up the tattered shreds of the label in my fist.
“Isn’t there some way to convince them to keep this portion of the land alive? Johnson’s hobby farm does okay, from what I hear.”
I suck a swell of air in through my teeth and shake my head.
“I don’t know, Dais. All I can tell you is that Johnson’s hobby farm has already been signed over to Guerra Industries.
” Daisy clicks her tongue and pulls one booted foot up to hook over the edge of her chair seat.
Her fingers drum in quick succession on her knee as she contemplates.
“I know that look.” I chuckle, taking a sip of my now flat beer.
“You’re going to hate this.” Daisy smiles sadly, turning her azure gaze on me.
“Hit me.” I wince.
“I think you should invite Logan Guerra to stay here. Show him why he should not only buy this land, but keep the farmhouse alive. Make him see there is another way for you to both get what you want.”
I tip my head back and laugh. But it succinctly dies into a small, strangled groan from the back of my throat. I’m backed into a corner with very few options. “That’s the most insane idea I’ve ever heard.”