Page 3 of Unexpected Sweetheart
“What happened to your life?” I blurt as he turns toward the house.
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out. Now get your shit. I’ll show you to your room.”
“You’re not going to help me carry it in?” I gesture to the six suitcases and four toiletry bags. My father told me I’d be gone a whole month, so I packed everything I could fit into my Chanel luggage set.
He glances back and laughs. “Do I look like a busboy?” he scoffs before he heads inside, leaving the door wide open for me to follow.
I stand there for a moment, caught between my indignation and my admiration of the way those jeans fit him. He’s got a great ass, and those thighs look pretty manly too. I guess that’s just what happens when you spend your life on the back of a horse.I wouldn’t mind riding him…A smile curves my lips as I pick up my tossed cell and the closest bag before I follow him inside the main house. I’ve never even wanted to ride a man before, so maybe this situation isn’t going to be as bad as I first thought. And bonus—my father isn’t hovering around with his bodyguards getting in the way of my fun.I can definitely work with this situation.
The ranch house looks as one would expect—lots of wooden furniture and stucco walls painted in muted colors. There are pictures on the walls, frames on all the surfaces, but I can’t help but notice that Ryan’s face isn’t present in any of them. It looks like a mishmash of people with horses, in groups, or posing with an older man who is the only repeated face I see. I’m guessing he’s Ryan’s father, and by the fact Ryan wants to get the hell out of here too, I’m also guessing there’s no love lost between them.That’d have to suck.
“Normally, we put ranch hands out in the bunkhouse,” he says, interrupting my gawking as he leads me up the stairs. “But since it’s just you and me here, and I haven’t checked the bunkhouse for hibernating rattlesnakes”—Yikes!—“I reckon you can bunk down in here.” He stops and pushes the door open of a tiny room with a twin bed sitting in the middle of it, covered in a cream bedspread with pretty yellow flowers dotted all over it. Other than that, it’s pretty spartan. “No one’s been in here besides cleaning it for years, so you’ll need to make up the bed.” He pulls open the cupboard and slides out a set of folded sheets, frowning slightly before he drops them on the end of the bed and sighs. “Bathroom is down the hall. You’ll find towels in there. Kitchen, living area, and study are downstairs, and if there’s some emergency in the night, my room is just off the kitchen. If you’re hungry, you’ll find fixin’s for a sandwich, but I wasn’t expecting company, so…” He shrugs and places a hand on the door like he’s about to leave but just stands there instead. “Listen. I’m sure this situation isn’t what either of us expected, but it’s what we’ve got.” His eyes drift from my face, down my body to my toes and back up again, and it almost feels like a touch against my skin. “Let’s just try to make the most of it.”
He tears his eyes away from me and leaves the room so I can get settled. I can’t help the smile that keeps pulling at my lips. Mr. Gruff-Cowboy-Man is hot with a capital H. And with the way he just eye licked me, I think I know just how to make this next three weeks a hell of a lot of fun.
Ryan
Bowing my head, I rub my hand through my hair, rinsing out the shampoo and the filth of the day. My muscles ache, but it’s my head that hurts the most. What the hell was I thinking telling that suit I’d take on his daughter? Not only do I hate the fact I heard my father’s voice coming out of my mouth when I spoke to her, but I also hate the fact I panicked so hard when he threatened to turn this ranch into a golf course. Why am I working so hard to save something I hate? I should just sell it to whoever wants it and be done with it. But as it is, I feel myself sinking further and further into the routine of this life I didn’t think I wanted. It’s like my father’s spirit is here guiding my movements and decisions. Judging me.
Which is why I know he’d strongly disapprove of how my body reacted to the curvy pink puffball when she got out of that limo.
The moment I saw her, I wanted to hate herandfuck her. So, I don’t quite know what’s going on there. Actually, I have no idea what I’m doing at all. My skills extend to keeping this ranch running by a thread. They don’t extend to helping waywardanyonethe way my father did. Sure, I witnessed him run the program a thousand times, but fucked if I know how to get through to some attitude-filled kid—and she’s not even a kid,or a teen.She’s a grown-ass woman who can think and act for herself. The fact she’s here at all is ridiculous, and quite frankly, I’m taking it as my father’s final push from his grave. He always wanted me to run this place when he retired, and I refused. Now, he’s managed to force me to do the one thing he couldn’t force on me while he was alive. He’s making me follow in his footsteps.
“Fuck.” I press my closed fist against the tile, grinding the knuckle against the rough grout as the water sluices down my back. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be responsible for turning some heiress’s life around when mine is so fucking fucked up it’s not even funny. I should just walk away, get back to my life in Sacramento, finally putting Sweetheart, Colorado, and the Mountain Ranch behind me. But for some reason, I just can’t.
Don’t get me wrong, Sweetheart is an amazing town full of vibrant and colorful people. Most kids would call their upbringing in this tiny mountain town idyllic. But most kids didn’t have Gerald Oakley for a father. He was more of a dad to his waywards than he was to me.
I know, I know. I sound jealous, and I completely recognize that I was. I wanted my father to pay me the same attention he did them. But there was nothing wrong with me. I wasn’t broken. Therefore, he didn’t think I needed him.
But every kid needs their father.
Which is probably why I felt instantly pissed off when Lorelei showed up. Sure, her dad seems like a controlling ass, but at least he seemed to give a shit. My father barely said goodbye to me the day I left, let alone escorted me to where I was going in a limousine.Spoiled brat.She’s rich, she’s beautiful, and she has at least one parent who cares enough to try to rein her in when she’s gone off the rails. She shouldn’t even need a place like this. She should just be so damn grateful for the station God gave her in life that she’s a model citizen and daughter.
But that’s not how life works.
The rich are spoiled assholes. And the rest of us hate them for it while we stare at them all with envy. And in Lorelei’s case, arousal.
Which is another thing I hate about the girl.
She’s almost half my age and every time I think about her in that too-short skirt, fitted sweater, and come-fuck-me boots, I want to do just that—fuck her. And I’m already tired of mentally willing my dick to go back down.
Releasing a groan, I stare down at the traitorous appendage, ramrod straight and throbbing hard, begging for me to take hold of it and give myself some relief.
My hand hovers near it. It would be so easy. Just a few good, tight pulls as I imagine how pink she is with that skirt pushed up around her waist, and I’d be done. The stress would leave my body, and I’d sleep like a slightly less tortured baby.
But I’d feel like a creeper.
And it’s that thought that has me reaching for the hot water instead of my dick, turning it off so an icy blast hits my body and chases my erection away.
Letting out a slow breath, I shut the cold off too then step out of the shower stall, shivering slightly as I dry off and wrap the towel around my waist. A thin stream of water runs down the center of my back and I grab a second towel to dry my hair off properly as I pad my way barefoot into my room. I should make something for dinner, but I’m too fucking exhausted, and teaching a woman with zero ranch experience how to switch out fence posts wasn’t on my never-ending to-do list for the morning. It’s going to make an already packed day even harder.
With my hair mostly dry, I flop back on the bed, dropping the damp towel over my face to block out the light. I don’t even have the energy to get up and turn it off. I close my eyes and relax into the bed.
“Is that how you sleep each night?” a newly familiar voice asks suddenly, making me whip the towel off my face as I sit bolt upright.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I demand, finding a scantily clad Lorelai sitting on the end of my bed with a seductive grin on her face, as her eyes travel down my torso to the towel about my waist that’s thankfully still covering what it’s supposed to. “And what are youwearing?” She has on a red lace negligee with a plunging neckline. If she was standing, I doubt it’d cover much of her ass, and I’m fairly sure it’s also see-through, but I’m holding my hand up to block her from my vision. My towel might be keeping my dignity intact right now, but if I get another look, the fun-loving friend between my legs is going to poke his head out and demand attention since I denied him in the shower.
“What do you think I’m doing here?” she asks, her voice sounding throaty. “I had an emergency...I got bored.”
