Page 7 of Auctioned to the Cowboy

“Shay,” he says, with a voice that rumbles deep from his chest, “the chances of me finding someone seeking anything more than a casual dalliance with a man already spoken for is slim.”

“Ah, ever the optimist,” I joke, trying to keep the mood light even though my heart is thrumming against my ribs.

“Optimism has nothing to do with it.” Henry’s face hardens further, if that’s even possible. “I’ve done the love and marriage dance before. Ended up a fool. I can assure you, love is not an ingredient I require in my life again.”

“Sounds like we’ve been reading from the same book,” I reply, sensing a kinship in our shared skepticism. “Love is for suckers.”

“Exactly,” he affirms with a nod, his expression softening a fraction, enough to make him seem almost approachable. “It’s a distraction at best, a destructive force at worst.”

“Then it’s settled.” I extend my hand, bolder now. “A marriage of convenience. You get your ranch, and I get my freedom.”

“Freedom,” he echoes, his handshake firm and resolute.

“From all kinds of things,” I add, releasing his hand, but holding onto the newfound sense of control over my destiny. A business deal, nothing more. Yet, sitting here with Henry, I can’t help but wonder if I’m getting more than I bargained for.

He turns, the motion drawing my gaze back to his eyes. They’re different now, curious, lightened by something that wasn’t there before. And then it happens. A smile cracks the stern facade of Henry Sutton, and holy smokes, it’s like the sun breaking through a heavy fog, warm and blinding in its intensity.

“Whoa,” escapes my lips before I can rein it in.

“Did I say something funny?” His voice is low, a hint of amusement threading through it.

“Uh, no. Just… when you smile, it’s like, bam! Surprise handsome!” I clamp a hand over my mouth, horrified at my words. But then he chuckles, and I drop my hand, relieved.

“Surprise handsome, hmm?” He seems to ponder this, tilting his head. “So, Shay O’Riordan, you think this might work out? If you feel that way about love?”

I nod, determined not to get swept away by a smile, no matter how dazzling. “It’s true. Love is like a gorgeous pair of shoes that leave you with blisters for days. No, thank you.” My attempt at humor is off-kilter, but I plow forward. “A marriage of convenience, please, and nothing more.”

“Nothing more,” Henry repeats, considering me as if he’s seeing me properly for the first time. He extends his hand again. “Then we have an agreement.”

“Agreement.” The word tastes like freedom on my tongue. I take his hand, firm and sure, and we shake for a second time. It’s the most unusual business transaction of my life.

“Perfect. Welcome to the ranch, Mrs. Sutton-to-be.” His grin doesn’t fade, and for a moment, I catch a glimpse of a man who could be more than grump and gloom.

“Thanks, I guess?” I reply, a laugh bubbling up from my chest. “But let’s skip the ‘to-be’ part. We’ve got a deal, Mr. Sutton.”

He nods as he releases my hand. For a second, I miss the warmth, but I push the thought aside. Business, remember?

Yeah, nothing but business.

Chapter 4

Henry

I lean against the wooden fence, my hands finding the familiar grooves of the weathered timber as I watch Shay with the dogs. The fence is solid under my palms, a small comfort in the swirl of uncertainty that seems to follow her arrival. She crouches to their level, her fingers weaving through Maisie’s sleek black-and-white fur, whispering sweet nothings that make the dog’s tail wag like a metronome set on high speed.

“Who’s the best girl? Yes, you are, Maisie,” Shay coos, and the dog laps at her face in response.

Anne and Felicia hover close by, vying for attention with soft whines and nudges. They’ve always been good judges of character, these dogs, and they’ve taken to Shay like ducks to water or cattle dogs to a kind-hearted soul. It’s hard to deny the way they respond to her—like she belongs here. Like she’s been part of this ranch her whole life.

“Okay, okay, your turn,” she laughs, turning to give Anne a scratch behind the ears while Felicia patiently waits her turn. Her laugh carries on the breeze, light and musical, settling in the air around me, warming the chill of the late afternoon.

I tip my brown cowboy hat back a little more, a tug pulling at me somewhere deep inside that has nothing to do with the ranching business. She’s so at ease, so genuine in how she interacts with the dogs. No pretense, no guardedness. It’s a stark contrast to the way I’ve operated for years, my walls firmly in place.

“Shay,” I call out, trying to keep my voice steady. “You know they’re working dogs, right?”

She looks up, green eyes sparkling as she grins and shrugs. “Doesn’t mean they don’t deserve some love.”

“Guess you’re right.” And just like that, I let her break one of the unspoken rules of the ranch. Those dogs should be disciplined and focused, but how can I enforce that when Shay’s around? I can’t bring myself to dampen that spark she carries. It would be like trying to snuff out the sun.

---