Page 25 of White Collar Rancher

“Katherine’s getting him buckled in.” Martin beamed and gestured for him to enter. “We really had a good time. Thank you.”

“We’ll make this a regular occurrence. I think we all need it.”

Martin ducked his head. “So, what’d you do with all your free time?”

Justin saw no reason to lie. The truth was a small outlet for his guilt. “I met Priya for an early dinner. She was a huge help during those long nights.”

A serious expression descended over Martin’s face. “Yes. Priya.” Martin dropped his voice. “She’s another one on our list. I worry that…that she thinks we blame her like the rest of the town.”

“The rest of the town?” Hadn’t Priya said something similar?

Martin peered around the corner of the entry where Katherine could be heard cooing to Isaiah. “Has she mentioned anything? I guess patients are dropping her as their doctor and she’s in danger of losing her job.” He let out an uncharacteristic snort. “People tell us this like we’d support the destruction of Priya’s career.” His voice lowered. “Katherine and I owe her a lot, and not just for saving Isaiah. She kept Maisy on the straightest path possible.”

“She hasn’t mentioned anything.” Justin forced a smile. The bitter aftertaste in his mouth was too much like betrayal. Why wouldn’t she talk to him? “But that’d be just like her, not wanting to worry me.”

He said his goodbyes and drove home with his son. Isaiah fell asleep once they hit the highway. The silence left him with his thoughts about Priya.

She hadn’t confided in him. It was her life, her troubles. He had no right to them. But he’d asked. More than once. And she hadn’t trusted him. So what did that say about their upcoming arrangement?

Her hands trembled as she clenched the steering wheel. I can’t believe I’m going through with this. She hadn’t even showered, or primped, or changed clothes, and the debate about whether or not to do any of the above had driven her crazy. She’d opted not to. They’d made the deal while she was in her Saturday home-all-day clothes. Doing anything more would seem…needy? Presumptuous? Or worse, humiliating if he changed his mind.

She’d made this drive so many other times, but tonight was different. So, so different.

She still couldn’t believe the conversation. Who talked about those kinds of things? Was that how it was done? She was in over her head. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t how she’d ever dated before.

But this wasn’t dating, was it?

Exclusive friends with benefits. She’d ask herself what the hell was that anyway, but the description was right there. They would have sex, they would be friends, but they wouldn’t plan a future together. Their lives would be otherwise separate. There was something so bittersweet about all of that.

Could she convince herself that this was casual? Could she keep her heart out of her head? Justin didn’t know that she’d longed to be his for so many years. He didn’t know that for the last month she’d wondered what it would be like if they were an item. A couple. Justin had the ability to make whomever he spoke to feel like the only other person in the room. She found it intoxicating.

She blamed all her exes, the few that she could count as an ex. None of the men she’d dated, especially not Emmett, had treated her like she was special. At first she’d thought Emmett might be the one, but she’d confused his treatment with his love for himself. She’d helped him succeed by pushing him through med school, and that was more important to him than anything. Professional stature meant more to him than any girlfriend ever would.

She swung into Justin’s driveway and parked in her normal spot behind his garage door. The garage wasn’t attached, and her spot was the closest to the house. He kept it clear for her.

Killing the engine, she let out a slow breath. Before she could lose her courage and put the key back in the ignition and floor it out of there, she climbed out of the car. The cold wind slapped her face, like it was asking what the hell she was thinking.

The house loomed over her. She tipped her head back to look past the roof to the black night sky above it. How many other times had she been here in the last several weeks? It felt like she was going into an alternate version of the house. It was a little darker, a little more warped than she recalled, as if she were looking at it through a carnival mirror.

Her footsteps crunched over the gravel. The stairs creaked ominously in the night. She did her usual tap on the door and stepped inside, but nothing about those actions felt normal anymore.

The place was quiet. Only a dim light in the living room was on. She glanced around but couldn’t find Justin right away. Her taut shoulders eased.

Seriously. She’d had sex before, and she enjoyed it, as long as all body fluids were contained. Was that why planning to sleep with Justin was tumbling her insides like this? He’d want raunchy and she didn’t do…messy.

No, she didn’t want to get drizzled with chocolate for him to lick off. That was someone else’s fantasy, someone who didn’t let the threat of yeast infections turn them off. That extended to whipped cream and food play of any sort.

And no, she didn’t find lube or semen on the couch cushions or carpet sexy. Maybe she should be so driven out of her head with passion it wouldn’t matter. But it did, and guys seemed to be insulted by her restraint, and by how she liked to sleep in clean sheets and not ones that smelled like sex from two days ago.

She stepped out of her boots, shrugged off her jacket, and hung it up. Soft creaking from the stairs resonated through the silence. Tiptoeing into the living room, she almost bumped into him.

“I just laid Isaiah down,” he said softly. “He fell asleep on the way home.”

She nodded and stood awkwardly like she’d never been in the house before.

“Want some water? A glass of wine?” He was looking at her like she was a timid colt ready to bolt. Could he sense how poorly she was doing at being casual?

“Perhaps a small glass of wine.” She wanted a clear head, but half a glass of pinot noir might dull the edge of her anxiety.

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