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“I am nice,” I snapped, turning on my heel.

“Never once have I used that word to describe you,” he shot back dryly followed by an exhale. “Look, it’s a couple of months. Whatever you’re feeling, put it aside and focus on the job. That company is one of the best in the country, and you damn well know it. You think I’d steer you wrong?”

I stopped pacing and gripped the back of my desk chair, knuckles white against the leather. He wasn’t wrong, but admitting it felt like giving up control. Eleanor wasn’t just a problem; she was consuming my thoughts, invading my space, and getting under my skin in ways I didn’t even want to admit.

This wasn’t just business. It was personal—and I hated it.

When I was silent for too long, my lawyer spoke up again. “Do you understand why I suggested bringing a PR company on? She’s there to build your relationship with consumers and to put a positive light on Stone Ranch. Again, you got lucky, Stone. Consider this a new perspective for what your company could be, and if you learn a thing or two along the way about your people skills, good.”

“Fine,” I ground out, my voice barely above a growl. “But don’t expect me to make it easy.”

“You wouldn’t be Colton Stone if you did,” he replied with a chuckle before hanging up.

I threw my phone down on the desk and ran a hand through my hair, staring out the window at the vast expanse of my ranch. For the first time in years, I wasn’t sure if I was in control.

And that terrified me.

Chapter 11

Colton

SPENDING THE ENTIRE day with Eleanor wasn’t exactly on my “things I want to do” list. In fact, it ranked pretty damn low. When Tawnie texted this morning to say she couldn’t take Eleanor to the stables, guess who had to step in?

Apparently, Eleanor had already spoken to most of the workers yesterday. Now she wanted to film some “ranch basics” videos for her social media plan. Why I had to be there? Hell if I knew. She was a grown woman, clearly capable of finding the stables and working with the ranch hands herself.

I shoved back from my desk, muttering a string of expletives as I ran my fingers through my hair, then grabbed my hat and shoved it onto my head. “Unhappy” didn’t even begin to cover it. I’d already be spending more than enough time with her over the next few weeks. Adding more? A man could only take so much.

I headed toward the elevator, my boots hitting the floor with deliberate steps. She’d texted and demanded I meet her at her room. I didn’t even bother protesting. What would’ve been the point? Eleanor had a way of bulldozing over everyone in her path, me included. Just like she did that day in my office about Tawnie—getting her way like I knew she was used to.

The elevator dinged, the sound yanking me out of my thoughts. I stepped inside and immediately wished I hadn’t. The last time I was in this damn elevator had been with Eleanor. I could still feel the tension, thick and charged, like a live wire snapping between us.

The idea of casual sex still hung there like it wasn’t tempting her just as much as it tempted me. But I saw it in her eyes, the way they flickered with something she didn’t want to admit: lust, curiosity…surrender.

The more I thought about Eleanor, the more I realized we weren’t all that different. She was stubborn, sharp, and frustrating as hell.

She wasn’t the only one who hated being told no and didn’t back down from a challenge.

If I wanted something, I got it. Simple as that.

Her pitch to make Tawnie the social media manager for Stone Ranch wasn’t exactly a hill I needed to die on. I knew Tawnie deserved more than being my assistant. A promotion had been on the horizon anyway. But the fact that Eleanor had thought of it—and demanded it in her relentless way—itched under my skin.

Still, I caved. Why? Because I couldn’t help but enjoy the victorious, devilish grin she gave me when she thought she’d won. It was insufferable, yet at the same time, it turned me on way more than it should have.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped onto her floor and made my way to her room. I paused, taking a deep breath. I needed to armor up for the verbal sparring match waiting on the other side.

Raising my fist, I knocked, the sound echoing in the hallway. It took her a few seconds before the door swung open, and when it did…

Well, damn.

She wasn’t in her usual little dress and heels. Nope. Eleanor was wearing tight, boot-cut jeans that hugged her curves in all the right ways and a simple short-sleeved T-shirt. It was casual, ranch-appropriate, and somehow made her look even more stunning than usual.

“Eyes up here, Mr. Stone,” she said, her tone dry but amused. “Don’t act so surprised.” She took a step back to invite me in.

I scoffed, leaning against the doorframe instead of stepping inside. No way was I crossing that threshold.

“Me? Surprised? Not at all.” I looked down at my clothing choice and back to her. “Were you trying to match me?”

Her lips quirked, her eyes narrowing just enough to make me smirk. “Yeah, I thought I’d give grumpy rancher chic a try. So far, it’s working better for me than it does for you.”