Besides, it's not like he really had a say in the matter.His dad won full custody before I was even born.The judge thought he would be better off in his father's care.He was right.Rhys had a father who loved him and a stepmom who would have gone to war for him.I wasn't as lucky.
People always looked at my mom and assumed she was great because she's beautiful and elegant.They envied her when they should have pitied her.Beneath those false smiles and polite niceties lies the shriveled, trembling heart of a woman constantly facing her greatest fear: Aging and its inevitable consequences.Love and empathy can't exist where fear and jealousy reign supreme.
It's not my size that bothers her, not really.Nor is it my job or any one single thing.It's the fact that she's getting older and can do nothing to stop it while I "waste" my youth and potential.The fat, socially awkward daughter of a socialite pageant queen is an embarrassment to her legacy.In her eyes, the way I choose to live my life is a personal slight.But even if I were her perfect clone, she'd still find fault with me.It doesn't matter if I'm happy becausesheisn't.
I prowl around until I find a bathroom downstairs to take care of business…and then I prowl around because I'm insatiably curious.Cord's home truly is beautiful.The hardwood floors gleam with polish, and there isn't a speck of dust to be found.Either he's a neat freak or he has an amazing housekeeper.
"Holy crap," I whisper, staring in shock at a photograph on the mantle in the living room.Cord's isn't the only familiar face staring back.The giant to the left of him in the photograph is the same giant who wrangled Hamburger on Saturday, and the petite girl between them is Cleary, the sweet girl who gatecrashed our dinner last night.She's Cord's sister.That'swhy she reminded me of him!The giant is a sibling too.Staring at the photo, the similarities are unmistakable.They share the same nose, the same lips.
Cleary is all smiles in the photo.Cord's lips are turned up into a crooked grin, his gray eyes light.The other brother isn't smiling though.He seems…sad?Pensive?I'm not sure either is quite accurate.He just seems unsettled.It's obvious he and Cord both adore Cleary though.
I hobble around, looking at all the other photos.Some are funny, others are sweet.There are a lot of Cord and Cleary, and several of their brother in a military uniform.Their brother has scars in more recent photographs but not the older ones.He must have been injured while serving.The older Cleary grows in the photos, the deeper Cord's scowl gets.The patient affection in his eyes never wavers or diminishes though.He looks at his brother the same way.
I begin to put the pieces together in my mind as I look through the photos.Their parents died when Cleary was still a little girl.I think their brother was probably overseas, so Cord raised her.And then their brother was hurt too.That had to be so hard for him.
Seeing his life laid out like this, knowing he's the kind of man who would drop everything to raise his little sister is humbling.My own father fled from the responsibility of raising me.But Cord stepped up for his sister even in his own grief.He held his family together when everything else was falling apart.The last of my suspicions about him just…evaporate like water in the sun.
He's a good man.A bossy, grumpy,goodman.
After I look through the photos in the living room, I start peeking in rooms down the hallway.Aside from the bathroom, there's a home office that gives me major anxiety.The rest of the house is spotless, but the office is a disaster.Cord has paper stacked and scattered everywhere.How he makes sense of it all, I don't know.
I don't even step foot into the room next door.Expensive gym equipment fills the space, looking like modern-day equivalents of the medieval torture devices they were likely designed after.I shudder in horror and quickly close the door.Across from that is a game room with a pool table in the center of the room.
The laundry room is at the end of the hallway.I move my clothes from the washer to the dryer, excited over the prospect of having dry panties to wear.As nice as Cord's clothes are, and as much as I like that he likes me in them, I'd prefer not to soak through his sweats and embarrass myself.
"Crap," I groan when I see my wallet sitting on top of the dryer.He probably looked inside to confirm my identity.He knows for sure I'm not a cattle thief or liberator.There's no going back now.I'm not even sure I want to go back anyway.Cord is…not at all like I thought.He's infuriating and bossy and he drives me insane, yes.But there's so much more to him.It's a little terrifying.
I think I'd feel better about the whole thing if he did spend all his time in the basement playing video games and knitting socks for kittens.At least then we'd be on a level playing field.But no.He's hot, successful, caring…all those things I've spent my whole life running from.
I can't run now, can I?
Even if I tried, I have a feeling he'd chase me down faster than his maniacal bull.There's a reason he started emailing me.There's a reason I'm here now.It's time to put my big girl panties on and figure out what that means.For once in my life, I can't let the fear of turning out like my mother rule me.I've got to stay and face this cowboy.
Please don't let me regret it, I pray.Please don't let him break my heart.
I barely even know him, and yet I think if anyone has the power to do it…it just might be him.
ChapterSix
CORD
"Don't you dare touch my pie, Cord Decker!"Cassia shouts, pointing a wooden spoon at me like it's a bayonet."It's not ready yet."
"It looks ready to me," I grumble, glaring between her and the peach pie currently taunting me from the kitchen table.The damn thing looks better than ready.After the day I had, it looks damn near as good as she does, and she's sweet enough to tempt a saint straight into hell.Let's be honest though.One thing I've never been mistaken for is a saint.
I've been trying all day to convince myself to take it slow so she doesn't bolt, but I'm an impatient motherfucker.I decided weeks ago that she was going to be mine.I realized today that she knows it too.She wouldn't be here if she didn't.Not in Tahoe, not on my ranch, and not in my kitchen, pointing that wooden spoon at me.
By the time I got Hamburger squared away, one of the young bulls decided he wanted to try his luck today.He went hell for leather across the pasture and broke a leg.Unlike horses, cattle heal well from broken legs, especially the younger ones.With a little time, a little TLC, and a little sweat on our parts, he should be fine.But it took all day to get him settled.We didn't finish until well after dark.
As soon the vet was done, I ran back to the house, worried as hell Cassia would be gone.Instead, I found her in the kitchen, her plump ass in the air as she checked something in the oven.
She stayed.Hell, she did more than stay.She cooked dinner.We both know that's not because there's a little snow falling from the sky.She's here because this is where she wants to be.So we won't be taking it slow.She'll be in my bed tonight where she belongs.If I'm lucky, she'll be sleeping with my seed in her belly and my hands on her tits.We'll figure out the rest later.
"Kiss me and I'll leave your pie alone."
"You're filthy," she complains, ignoring my demand."Go shower and leave my food alone."
"Come kiss me first," I order her.
