Restless Rancher Page 2

  Kelly held her hands out and let them drop to the sides of her thighs. “I don’t know. I tried to change his mind, but he won’t let it go.”

  “Instead, he doubles down on humiliating me by seducing my ex-girlfriend, then sends her here to fuck me for my baby. He hasn’t taken enough, he wants my child, too!” Anger stung his throat as those ridiculous words burst out his mouth.

  “The child would be his grandson. He’d get everything.”

  “And that’s all that matters. You get what you want. He gets what he wants. What about what I fucking want?” He yelled so loudly he was sure the rickety rafters overhead vibrated with his rage the way his whole body shook with it. “I would never—EVER!—give up my child. Anyone who thinks that of me doesn’t know the real me. And that includes you.” He took a menacing step toward her, his body rigid and begging for a fight it wouldn’t get. “How could you come here with his ring on your finger and think I’d ever want to touch you, let alone have a baby with you? I don’t even want to look at you. Get out.”

  She reached for him again, but he stepped back. The thought of her ever touching him again sent a shiver of revulsion through him.

  “Get out!”

  This time he was sure his fury would bring down the roof.

  She spun on the heels of the boots he’d bought her, her skirt flaring out, showing off a lot of thigh. She’d come here hoping he’d knock her up without a second thought and she’d walk out with his child and raise it with his father.

  He didn’t think Kelly or his father could hurt him more than they had when they abandoned him, but this twisted deception they’d tried to pull over on him hit hard and cut deep.

  He waited for the sound of her car to fade before he walked out of the barn and headed for his pathetic bed on the porch of the hoarder house he couldn’t stand to go in and the bottle he’d left under the cot and hadn’t touched in two weeks.

  He needed a drink.

  Or ten.

  There might not be enough whiskey in Montana to make him forget what just happened.

  His life couldn’t get any worse than this. Right?

  Chapter Two

  Kelly slammed the front door and threw her purse on the console table, knocking over a vase filled with giant white mums. Water spread across the table and dripped onto the marble floor, spreading toward the expensive rug. She cursed and stomped her foot, her hands fisted at her sides.

  Nothing went her way today.

  The office door to her right opened and she inwardly cringed. She hated to disappoint Walter. He’d blame her for not getting the job done.

  She didn’t like hurting Austin. It tore at her heart, because she still cared about him. She always would. But she wanted a baby to please Walter and earn his praise. She wanted to feel that light of appreciation and acceptance he’d made her feel when they started seeing each other. It had waned recently with the stress of trying to get pregnant.

  She hoped to change that today but she had failed miserably.

  “Kelly. You’re back.” Surprise filled his eyes and words. He held up his hand. “Look.”

  She stared at the golf ball–sized raw sapphire surrounded by several smaller ones in his palm. His eyes were alight with sheer elation. He didn’t look at her the way he did his coveted sapphires with that much enthusiasm.

  “They’re great.”

  “There’s more where this came from.” And he looked like he couldn’t wait to go back where he found them and dig for more.

  He finally focused on her and studied her face. “So that was quick.”

  She didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Well?”

  Embarrassment and humiliation swept through her once more, heating her face, but this time a wave of disappointment and defeat came with it. “He turned me down.”

  Walter looked her up and down, his displeasure evident in his cool gaze and tense jaw. “I hope not for lack of trying.”

  When they’d first discussed using Austin to get pregnant the plan seemed so easy. She got the baby and the man who could give her the home and life she wanted. Sleeping with Austin again intrigued her because they’d always been great together in bed. And she’d spent countless hours thinking about their life, future, and children. If she couldn’t have that life with Austin, having his child would give her at least part of that dream and make her memories of him even sweeter.

  But things hadn’t gone as planned and she left Austin feeling like someone she didn’t recognize. She didn’t use people. She didn’t lie to Austin. She didn’t cheat.

  And that Walter had asked her to lie, cheat, and steal left her shaken and disturbed, wondering how she’d allowed herself to be talked into treating Austin with callous calculation.

  Walter continued to eye her, staring hard and waiting for her to explain, like he couldn’t believe she’d failed, when failure was not an option. He expected her to get it done so they could move on and have their family.

  She tugged her skirt down an inch in a futile attempt to cover her legs. “I thought I had Austin right where I wanted him.”

  “And?”

  She didn’t want to go into detail, wanted to spare him—and her—the . . . uncomfortable play-by-play. “He stopped just before . . . you know.”

  “Why? What did you do that made him stop?”

  She brushed her hand against her thigh, feeling the echo of Austin’s hand on her. It washed away with the memory of the scorn she’d seen in his eyes. “I didn’t do anything. He just stopped and thought about what we were doing and why.” She touched her fingers to the diamond ring that seemed heavier to carry today. “He figured it out.”

  “Figured what out?”

  “That I wanted to get pregnant.”

  Walter tilted his head, but his intense gaze never wavered from her face. “How did he possibly arrive at that conclusion?”

  “I didn’t insist he use a condom.”

  Walter stared down at her clasped hands. “And you didn’t think to take off my ring.”

  She clasped her hands. “I guess I was too preoccupied with seducing your son.”

  Walter stuffed the gems in his pocket, then reached out and jerked one of her hands free. Shocked by the abrupt move, a wave of adrenaline shot through her system.

  He pulled her toward the stairs and she trudged after him, unsure of his intent. “Well, since neither of you got the job done, I suppose it’s up to me to do it right.”

  His attempt to make that sound seductive and not like an insult fell flat to her ears. Especially after what she’d done, his readiness to send her to Austin in the first place, and his reaction to the news she hadn’t slept with his son.

  At the foot of the stairs, he stopped and pulled her close. His hand slid down over her hip. His fingers gathered her skirt, pulled it up, then slipped beneath and brushed over her thigh. His soft kiss eased her fast-beating heart and drew her back into the connection they shared. He cupped her bottom, his fingers an inch from her warming core. “I will always give you everything you need, everything you want.”

  She settled into him and the hypnotic and seductive way his fingers traced circles on her soft skin, infinitesimally moving closer to her building heat.

  “With me, everything is possible.” He dipped his hand lower and thrust two fingers into her slick core. The intrusion shocked her and sent a wave of lust through her throbbing system. “I will never leave you wanting.”

  As he played her body to his tune, for the first time a niggling suspicion rose to the forefront of her mind. Did he want to please her and give her everything she wanted, or was he using her to get what he wanted?

  Chapter Three

  Sonya stood over the man she’d come here to help. She held a pitcher of water in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Austin snored like a snorting pig who’d wallowed in a bottle of whiskey. The putrid stench coming off him wasn’t much better than a team of swine, or the smell coming out of the packed-
with-crap-to-the-rafters house. Lying on the cot, one booted foot on the ground next to the discarded food container, his dingy gray shirt stained with fried-chicken-grease streaks from his fingers wiping across it, Austin slept like the dead.

  The noisy dead.

  Her sister Roxy warned her Austin wouldn’t be an easy project, but Sonya didn’t expect she’d have to save a drowning man from the bottom of a bottle.

  Roxy thought Austin was on board with this crazy venture. She claimed he’d cleaned up his act and quit drinking.

  He should have been expecting Sonya.

  Well, he wasn’t expecting this.

  She dumped the cool water over his face and chest.

  “What the hell?” Austin sat up, sputtering. He wiped his hand over his drenched face and raked his fingers through his oily hair. He squinted his bloodshot eyes against the bright morning sunlight, twisted, and stared up at her. “What the hell?”

  “You said that already.” She stared into his striking blue eyes. The anger faded to pure male appreciation when his gaze dipped from her face and traveled down her body. She didn’t want to feel the warmth that look spread through her system. “Drink this.” She handed him the steaming paper coffee cup. “The trucks are here.”

  As if on cue, the Dumpster trucks turned into the drive, followed by the crew she’d hired to help clean out the house. Another truck would arrive later today to haul away anything worth donating.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Sonya. Roxy sent me. Remember?”

  Austin rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye socket. “Vaguely. She said Tuesday.”

  “It is Tuesday.”

  Austin gazed up at the sky, checked his watch, then patted his pockets looking for something. Probably his phone to confirm the date. “Seriously?”

  “Comes after Monday and right before Wednesday.”

  Austin glared up at her, but she didn’t miss the way he tried not to let the right corner of his mouth sneak up just a fraction of an inch.

  “Time to get to work.”

  “So much for getting to know you.”

  Sonya cocked her hip and glared down at him. “I quit my job and moved here to make all your dreams come true.”

  “I can think of a dozen ways you can do that, sweetheart.”

  Sonya fumed. “I’m not your sweetheart or honey. I’m not here for you.” She wasn’t quite sure why she agreed to do this for Roxy. She should have stuck it out at her accounting firm, made them take notice and give her the promotion she deserved. “While I’d like to toss a stick of dynamite into this dump and call it a day, Roxy says this place means something to you and we need to clean it out. So get your drunk ass up and get to work.”

  She walked down the steps and headed for the driver of the first Dumpster truck to instruct him where to unload the large bin. Feeling Austin’s gaze on her, she turned back. “Stop staring at my ass. You want off that cot and into a real bed”—she looked around the yard—“inside. Well, we’re going to have to be able to get through the front door.”

  Austin grinned and poured the last dribble of whiskey into his coffee. “By all means, sweetheart, if you want me in a bed, let’s get started.”

  Cocky son of a bitch.

  This time, she hid the smile tugging at her lips. “Roxy said I’d have my hands full with you. You will not have your hands full of me.”

  Austin raised one eyebrow and gave her a wolfish grin. “Challenge accepted.”

  “The only thing you need to accept is that one word from me and Roxy pulls out of this misadventure. As I see it right now, Roxy would be better off leveling this place and starting over.”

  Anger replaced the mischief in Austin’s eyes. “People always want to toss out the old and bring in the new. This place has a history. It’s solid. The fireplace is built from rock taken from this land. My grandfather hand hewed and carved the mantel. That barn was raised by good men, neighbors who helped out and didn’t ask for anything in return. While the house might smell like shit, it holds a lifetime of my grandfather’s memories. Somewhere in that mess is my mother’s childhood. She was happy here. My grandfather was happy here. With simple things and a good life. He left it to me, and I’ll be damned if you or anyone else is going to toss it in the trash or burn it to the ground. So move your ass, sweetheart. We’ve got work to do.” Austin walked down the bowed steps and headed for the truck backing in the Dumpster.

  Taken by surprise by his connection to this place, she accepted this wasn’t just a down and dirty clean-out job. Austin had a deep sentimental attachment she’d never felt for anything or anyplace she’d ever lived. To let him know she was on board for the job ahead, because they needed to work together, she said, “I’ve slept in worse places.”

  Austin stopped in his tracks and stared at her, the house, then back to her. His gaze filled with disbelief and sorrow that at one time her life had taken her to some scary, dark, disgusting places.

  Chapter Four

  Austin wiped his hand over his drenched shirt and shook his head, disgusted with himself. Not exactly the way he’d like to be woken up by a beautiful woman, but he didn’t blame her. He had a vague memory of someone tapping his shoulder and nudging his chest several times trying to get his attention. With as much as he’d drunk last night, he was surprised the near drowning actually worked.

  Not exactly the best way to meet his new partner.

  Disappointed in himself for drinking away his troubles instead of letting what happened with Kelly go, he swore now he’d get his act together. Nothing was more important than putting the past in the rearview mirror and starting his business.

  Roxy, his best friend Noah’s new—and probably forever—woman, had offered him the moon. A chance to rebuild the ranch from the ground up. She offered him the money and banked on him doing the hard work.

  He didn’t blame Roxy for sending her sister Sonya to oversee her investment. He’d made a mess of his life.

  The dilapidated house was filled to the rafters with everything his hoarder grandfather ever owned. Austin managed to make a path from the disgustingly gross kitchen to the mildewed and musty bathroom where he’d found a trash can overflowing with toothbrushes and disposable razors. The toilet worked but water trickled incessantly. He couldn’t get into the spare bedrooms. The doors had been blocked long ago by stacks of stuff that might be trash, or simply items his grandfather thought he might need again someday.

  He wouldn’t cook anything in the kitchen to save his life. His grandfather had long ago lost all the silverware, dishes, and glasses somewhere in the house. He’d found a fork sticking out of the sofa cushion where his grandfather spent his last days. He wondered how many times his grandfather poked his ass on the fork tines. It made him cringe to think his grandfather simply stored it there in between meals.

  Except for his grandfather’s spot, the rest of the couch overflowed with newspapers, discarded jackets and shirts, and plastic TV dinner trays that had crusted over and stank up the place.

  How his grandfather survived living in that house—with that smell—astounded Austin. Ten minutes inside and he’d give his left nut to get out, which was why he’d been living in the stables.

  He waved his hand and guided the truck driver into the spot where the Dumpster would be close to the house. The daunting task ahead made his already throbbing head pound even more. The bass drum tempo reverberated with his heartbeat.

  The pain served to remind him nothing good came from the bottom of a bottle. Drinking numbed his brain, but he only woke up with the same anger and resentments.

  It wasn’t simply cleaning out the house, but facing his past. How he’d been so self-centered while living with his own father that he’d allowed his grandfather to wallow and deteriorate in this place. Austin had offered no help. Anytime he’d even attempted to go inside, he’d backed down when his grandfather shouted, “This is my house. These are my things. Leave it be.” Desperation and fear had laced thos
e words.

  Austin had let it go, but he’d carried the weight in his chest of the shame he saw in his grandfather’s eyes.

  After Austin lost everything, he’d seen that same humiliation in his own eyes in the mirror and felt the guilt he carried about his grandfather turn into shame.

  Pride kept his grandfather living in these terrible conditions instead of asking for help.

  Austin’s stubborn streak made him wallow in self-pity and hold on to his vow that he’d never sell this place no matter the cost.

  He’d held on longer than his father anticipated, but even Austin had grown tired of looking at this place, seeing what it could be and what it was, and holding on for no other reason than to spite his father. But every time he thought about giving up and selling, he thought about his deceased mother and grandfather and how much they’d loved what had been their home. He wanted to turn it back into the house they’d loved.

  Then, there’d been love and happiness here.

  He wanted that for himself.

  A hand settled on his shoulder. “You okay? You look like you’re about to puke up your lungs and you lost your best friend.”

  Austin stared at the four men pulling on coveralls, heavy-duty gloves, and respirator masks.

  “My grandfather never wanted anyone to see inside that house. I should have made him let me in. I shouldn’t have let it get this bad. I should have done something.”

  She squeezed his shoulder, her grip steady and strong. “He wouldn’t want you sleeping in the cold, holding on to his baggage. He couldn’t let it go. It’s time you did it for him.”

  Those words eased the band around his chest and renewed his sense of purpose.

  Sonya put him back on track. “So I’ve laid out two tarps. One is for items to donate. One is for items to keep. The truck with the slightly smaller recycle bin just pulled in. The large Dumpster is for garbage.