Page 18 of White Collar Rancher

She spoke again before he did, her tone teasing. “It’s a Saturday night even. The options are wide-open.” Metal clanged in the background. Was she cooking?

Lunch hadn’t been that long ago, but the memory of the magic Priya had worked with his crockpot roast was emblazoned onto his taste buds. “I only have a couple of hours. I was thinking of grabbing a meal that doesn’t come with heating instructions for a half a bag or a whole bag.”

Her laughter tinkled over the line. He liked that, making her laugh. “Where are you going?”

“I dunno. What are you cooking?” Look at that. He was hungry after all.

A squeak resonated from her end. He’d caught her off guard. Good. He liked doing that, too. The flare of her eyes and the hitch in her voice when he said something funny or that she wasn’t expecting. She was serious. The stable one. He couldn’t help but unsettle her—only in a good way. He hoped.

“Justin Walker, are you inviting yourself over to eat my risotto?”

While it sounded good, he could eat all her risotto and be left wanting. He dropped his voice, wondering why he was going all seductive over food. “Is that all you’re making?”

More laughter. “I can throw some pork chops in.”

“I never pegged you for a rebel.”

“Well, Mom said love wasn’t enough to make a butcher’s daughter give up meat. She has a stash in the freezer for when Dad works an evening walk-in clinic shift.”

“Will they be around?” He hardly knew her parents, but he felt like he did after Priya’s stories. Stories that just happened to be from when they were kids, not recent events.

Her sigh was heavy. “They took a whirlwind vacation to Mexico.”

They had her house to themselves? That… He swallowed past his thick throat at the gathering of desire the information started in him. He shifted in his seat like the temperature had spiked from the mid-forties to triple digits. He tried to use humor to diffuse the tension coiling in his gut. “I’ll invite my closest twenty friends. We’ll have a rager like in high school.”

“Don’t you dare. Besides, they’d probably get overly excited and think Devya was home.”

He blinked at the unexpected bitterness from her. Or was that jealousy? Combined with her cryptic comment earlier, he wanted nothing more than to corner her and talk.

Maybe not nothing more. His mind conjured so many things for the two of them to do alone. But no. This was just talking. She was a friend. She’d never indicated she wanted more.

“Just me and you.” He enjoyed the sound of that too much. “No need to get anyone in trouble.”

“Do you know where I live?”

It was Moore. Of course he knew where she lived. “Yeah, you’re in Lakewood. The big house.”

All the houses in Lakewood bordered on mansions. She giggled and gave him directions anyway.

He couldn’t recall her house. Hadn’t he ever been there? Thinking back, no, and as an adult he knew why. Maisy wouldn’t have allowed him to go to another girl’s house—with her or not, and especially not Priya’s. The daughter of a doctor and nurse, and not just any doctor or nurse. The Patels were well-off. Grandfather Patel had been a doctor, and Priya’s other grandparents owned a successful business. Her parents hadn’t been stupid with money either. Justin doubted either of them had graduated with a penny in student loans.

Lakewood was the high class of their little town. He’d hardly driven through it, except maybe with his parents to look at Christmas lights.

The trip was short, but he slowed down in Lakewood. Around him, the homes reminded him of Denver, those mountain “lodges” that were really luxurious living. Priya’s house rivaled their size and except for being noticeably older, it was as opulent. Stone veneer, dual-level porch, and he’d bet there was a Juliet deck in the back. The place was right off the water. Did they have their own dock?

Did Priya swim in the summer? Lay out in the sun, wearing nothing but a cherry red—

Where the fuck had his mind gone?

Just friends.

He parked behind the closest garage door to the house, next to her car. Wasn’t there room in this monolith for her ride?

Sliding out, he studied the yard. Mature cottonwoods and evergreens lined the property. The landscaping was mostly dormant for the winter but still obviously professionally maintained. In June, this lawn was probably lusher than carpet.

He knocked on the door.

Her “come in” resonated from deep within the structure. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him and stared.

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