Jack made a quick exchange with the cowboy, using only his eyebrows, and the cowboy offered her a smile, tipped his hat and got back on his horse. Jack handed him the rope and he led the bull back toward an open gate in a field.
She cleared her throat. “Good Gucci, that bull’s crazy.”
“He’s been without a female for too damn long.” Jack dismounted and with a couple of strides he towered over her. At five feet eight inches, she wasn’t short, especially in her Louboutins, butJack…
“What are you doing here?” He crossed hisarms.
“What do you think? I’m taking care of what’smine.”
He shook his head and gave a sarcastic chuckle. She smoothed her purple dress with her damp palms, doing her best to show composure while her insides sizzled with frustration and excitement.
The hardness of his muscles, pressed against his dark-green plaid shirt was unnerving and difficult to ignore. So too were the sun-bleached streaks in his dirty blond hair, partially hidden by his black leather hat. Her throat felt dry and lips, parched. Sadly, the most honest part of her was anything butdry.
“Lola St. James. You’ve always known how to make an entrance,” he said, his lips thinning into a smile more cruel than complimentary. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“Really?” She put her hands on her hips. “I wouldn’t have thought so, since you didn’t even bother to turn up at the funeral.”
He stared at her in silence for a long moment, maybe looking for a way to save face. What an ungrateful bastard. After all, Daddy had always praised Jack like the damn son he never had. Daddy had helped Jack turn into today’s agricultural tycoon—by loaning him money and investing in his ambitious plans which resulted in Jack owning several profitable cattle ranches across the state. “I sent flowers.” He removed hishat.
“Do you want a gold medal for making an online purchase?” If that was the case, she’d be Michael freaking Phelps.
With a shrug, he looked away for no more than a heartbeat then frowned at her. “My lawyer tried to contact your lawyer about the ranch.”
My lawyer has tried to contact me too. She’d turned off her cell phone before leaving Los Angeles. How many more times did she have to try and convince her own lawyer she had no interest in selling her part of the ranch? Whose side was the man on anyway?
“I’m here now, Jack. I don’t really want to hear about lawyers.”
The sound of Pepper’s snorting made her look down to find her companion sniffing Jack’s brown, dust-caked boots. Jack paid no attention to Pepper’s advances, even when the dog wagged his tail and stood on two paws, begging for attention. Oh, the little stinker.
“Down, Pepper!” she said between clenched teeth, but the dog ignored her command.
Jack lowered a hand for Pepper to sniff and slobber on, but his eyes remained fixed on Lola, as if memorizing her every feature. Despite her contempt for him, she instinctively touched her hair, her usual sultry, loose curls feeling frizzy and dry under her touch. I’d give a kidney for a deep conditioning. She had hoped she’d be able to shower and settle before dealing withJack.
“I want to buy your share of the farm,” Jacksaid.
She shook her head. Stay strong. Money had swayed her before, but not anymore. She needed to make her own money, and deep down she knew unless she earned it on her own, she’d blow through whatever she made from the sale. Failure is not an option. “I’m not selling.”
He gave a long, deep sigh then rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ll sell for the right price.”
When did he stop being the determined son of a foreman to become the cynical, moneyed ranch owner? “No.”
“We should talk inside,” he offered. He placed a hand on her bare elbow to guide her toward the entrance, and she stiffened. The touch from his strong hands made her pulse flutter, and her nipples tightened. She cleared her throat.
Before she could lift the key wrapped in her hand, he produced one from his pocket and opened the door. She resented his familiarity with the ranch. They co-owned Red Oak, since her father had given it to them as a wedding gift, one of Milton St. James’ brilliant ideas. Pepper wagged his tail and panted with excitement, following them inside.
Lola took a moment or two to focus on the grand entrance, just the way she remembered, with the humongous foyer, the vaulted ceilings, and thick rugs on the dark polished floor.
The stuffed Longhorn bull’s head remained hanging on the beige wall. Brown leather sofas occupied the large living space, along a low-set mahogany coffee table shaped like a horseshoe. Her father had been adamant about decorating the house himself, a task no straight Texan man should ever be allowed.
“Can I get you anything?” Jack asked, his tone more friendly. She sized up the man she had once called her husband. The man who had swept her off her feet. Ah, what a fool she had been when she’d fallen head over heels for Jack—and married him after a whirlwind courting and surprise pregnancy.
“Your support.” Only his presence and the painful memories coming with it dragged her away from scrutinizing the stuffed, framed swordfish on the wall. “I want to turn this place into a bed and breakfast.”
At first his mouth hardened, before his mocking chuckle resonated through her. Bastard. “You’re kidding, right? You don’t even know how to fry an egg or make abed.”
She shrugged. “It can’t be sohard.”
“Well, darling, I own half ofit.”
