“Oh.” She hesitates, a sunset pink staining her cheeks. I try not to take too much perverse pleasure in that simple sound and the apology that doesn’t follow. “Lanie Parker.” Her grip is firm as she takes my hand, juggling Sally on her hip, but a softness in her touch leaves me aching to check if she feels that way all over.
Rein your shit in, Rand.
Sally bats at her. “Lanie knows all about wolfs.”
“Wolves,” we both correct her together.
I snort, releasing Lanie’s hand, and shove mine into my pockets before my teenage-level hormones rage past the realm of inappropriate and get me into more trouble. “She does, huh?”
“Lanie’s a wolf biologist. She lives with us.” Sally beams while Lanie shushes her. A deeper flush creeps up her neck.
“Is that a real job?” The words escape before I can stop them. Both girls glare at me, their outraged expressions identical. “Uh?—”
I survived eight seconds on the meanest bulls in the circuit. Ibuilt a finance and logistics empire from dirt and sweat. I constructed this entire homestead with my own scarred hands. But this red-haired wolf girl in tight jeans and a cocoon phase T-shirt has just knocked me flat in my own hallway, and I have absolutely no idea how to haul my ass back up.
“Yes, it’s a real job,” Lanie snaps, her eyes blazing. She turns her attention to Sally and forces a smile across tight lips. “Are you ready to go? Why don’t you grab your things?”
Sally leaps out of Lanie’s hold and tears back through the house.
I open my mouth to yell about not running, but I’ve already gotten off on the wrong foot with Winnie’s friend. I cast about for something to rectify my mistake.
“I’m sorry. Do you want to come in while Sally packs? I wasn’t expecting my sister until after dinner.” I hold the screen door wider, gesturing for Lanie to head inside.
Her lips roll inward as she takes a tentative step across the threshold. An azure-bright glance brushes over me like a physical touch, lingering on my bare chest and the scars visible there. It isn’t as invasive as I would’ve expected, and I return the favor, my gaze heating as it sweeps over her perfectly proportioned curves. I let the door shut behind her and fist my hands in my pockets, giving myself that pep talk I needed a solid ten minutes ago.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, pausing a hand’s breadth away. Her sweet breath grazes my chest, Big Sky eyes glancing up and lancing straight through me. Every insecurity, every judgment I’ve hidden away from, all the reasons I built Coyote Falls in the first place—it’s all laid bare with her right in front of me.
This woman strips everything away in an instant.
While I’m struggling to take my next breath, Lanie steps past me, apparently unaffected. My lungs play ball finally and I inhale her cinnamon-and-sugar scent.Like Christmas fucking morning.Hell, I’m in trouble.
If I can’t pull myself together in my own home, I have no chance of being able to deal with the public in a few weeks. Thehermit I’ve become rebels at the thought of leaving my home. My shoulders tighten, and the twinge I forgot flares again.
“Sally’ll be out in a minute. I’ll get a shirt. Kitchen’s that way.” I point past her shoulder in the right direction.
Her eyes are indecipherable as she shoots me a look over her shoulder before she heads along the hall. I watch her walk away and then turn toward my bedroom. Dragging my sorry ass away from her is the hardest thing I’ve done in a decade.
One clean shirt later, I return to locate Lanie before she gets lost in the empty wing. She’s wandered as far as the guest end of the house, studying the paintings that line the walls.
“Are all these yours?” she asks, flicking her gaze my way before I lose her attention to a vista of the unforgiving watercolor of razorbacks that frame the house, albeit depicted in a grayer mood than they are today. A faint smile graces her lips. “Nice shirt.”
I thumb my empty belt loops, resisting the urge to catch her fingers in mine. “Ha. No, I thought they might suit the house when I built it.”
Curiosity lights her face as she angles her body toward mine. “You built the house? The whole thing?”
“I had help. My foreman. A good friend. A few ranch hands pitched in. Some even stayed.”
“You built…all of this?” she repeats, waving her hands to encompass the homestead and the ranch around it.
I grin, imagining that this is how she must feel when someone questions her career choices like I did earlier.
Does that make us even, wolf girl?
“It took nearly two years to complete the whole thing. We had some bad weather, a few…minor setbacks. Eventually, we got it done.”
“It’s amazing,” she whispers, turning down another hall, and then glances back at me. “You’ve put so much life into it.”
I swallow at the blatant admiration in her eyes that shouldn’t be aimed my way.Not fucking ever.
