"I don't doubt it," Jack said, still looking at me with those dark eyes that gave away nothing and everything all at once.
"Where are you from originally, Jack?" Ivy asked, always friendly, always curious.
"Here and there," he answered, finally looking away from me. "Montana originally. But Texas always felt like home."
"Well, welcome to Copper Creek," Momma said warmly. "We're having a family dinner tomorrow after church. You should join us."
"That's kind of you, ma'am."
They kept talking—about his experience, his time in the service, how long he planned to stay. I stood there like an idiot, trying not to remember the way he'd said my name in the dark, trying not to think about how his hands had felt, trying not to die of mortification.
This couldn't be happening. The one time—theonetime—I'd done something wild, something just for me, and he shows up here? At my home? Working for my family?
"I need to—" I started backing away. "The barrel racing. I should?—"
I turned and practically ran toward the rodeo ring, needing distance, needing air, needing the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
"Oh hell no," I muttered, gripping the rail hard enough to leave marks. "Shit-so-fuck!”
"Problem, Miss Blackwood?"
I spun around. Jack had followed me, standing a respectful distance away but close enough that I could smell him—leather and soap and something uniquely him that made my body remember things it shouldn't.
"Oh no," I hissed, looking around to make sure no one could hear. "Don't you dare."
"Don't what?" His expression was innocent, but his eyes were laughing. "I'm just trying to learn my way around. You're supposed to teach me, remember?"
"Why are you here?"
"I needed a job. And my friend Emmett owns part of Golden Circle, but they didn’t have use for me, so he sent me here. Said y’all are some of the best. Seemed like a good fit."
"You didn't know? About me? That I lived here?"
The corner of his mouth curved with a smirk that made my knees weak. “Would it matter if I did?"
I stared at him, this man who'd taken me apart and put me back together in ways that still made me shiver. "We can't—this can't—nothing can happen."
"I'm just here to work, ma'am." The way he said 'ma'am' made it sound like something else entirely. "Although I do look forward to learning from you. I hear you're very...thorough in your teaching."
My face burned. "Stop it."
His smirk widened into a devastating grin. “Stop what? I'm being professional."
"You're being—" I couldn't find the word. Infuriating? Dangerous? Perfect?
"I'm being exactly what you need me to be in public," he said quietly, stepping just close enough that his voice was private. "A professional ranch hand who's never met the boss's daughter before. Isn't that what you want?"
It was. It was exactly what I needed. So why did it make me want to scream?
"Maggie!" Steph called from the ring. "Ivy's about to ride!"
"I have to go," I said.
"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Blackwood. For that tour."
"Right. The tour."
I walked away, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. This was a disaster. An absolute, complete disaster.
