The Chestnut Ranch Cowboy Billionaire Boxed Set: Three Sweet Cowboy Billionaire Novels (Chestnut Ranch Boxed Sets Book 1)

by Emmy Eugene

  George sat, and Jenna knew she’d get an earful about his parrot and what song he was teaching it afterward. But the look of gratitude and wonder on Seth’s face was worth it. She nodded to him as she made her way toward him, and he stood up and cleared his throat.

  “Welcome, everyone,” he said, his bass voice carrying easily in the space. “Thanks so much to Ruth Hanvey for opening her house to us, and thanks for coming.” He shuffled his papers, and Jenna arrived.

  She took them from him and put them back in the folder. Their eyes met, and something amazing and powerful stormed between them. She nodded toward the crowd and looked out over the people, most of them a generation older than her and Seth. There were a few younger people, and a handful her age, and they’d be the easiest to win over.

  “Go on now,” she said to Seth.

  He looked at the folder and back to Jenna. Then he faced the crowd and drew a deep breath.

  Chapter Nine

  Seth didn’t really need the papers, and he appreciated Jenna’s support. Not only that, but she knew him well enough to know to take the papers and then tell him to get started.

  “Our vision for the Edible Neighborhood hasn’t changed,” he said. “I still have all the maps and plans from our previous meetings.” He nodded to Jenna, who started distributing the copies he’d brought. “The idea, for anyone who is new here, is that the land between the road and the sidewalk will become a community garden. Residents can plant anything they want, and everyone on Victory Street takes care of the resulting garden. You don’t have to stick just to the space in front of your house.”

  He took a breath and waited a moment for Jenna to come back to his side. He didn’t look at her though, because his feelings for her were all over the place, and he didn’t want to give away too much. Not to her, and not to his mother, who sat near the front of the group.

  “The same goes for harvesting. Residents on the street can harvest from any plant, shrub, or tree on the street, not just the ones in front of their house.” He loved the concept of working together with the people he lived near, and he almost wished he lived on Victory Street.

  But his parents did, and he knew he’d be spending plenty of time here, on this project, if the residents approved it.

  “The issue last time was funding,” he said. “But that’s been solved.” He looked around at everyone. “So we just need to vote. We’ll decide here today if we want to send out a formal vote to everyone on the street, and if we have sixty-five percent who want to participate, we’ll move forward with the ground-breaking and planting of fall bulbs, seeds, and trees as soon as possible.”

  Several moments of silence followed, but Seth didn’t have anything else to say. “Questions?”

  A man in the front row—Lyle Corbridge—raised his hand. “Where did the funding come from?”

  “Uh.” He glanced at Jenna, but she couldn’t very well advise him in front of the crowd. “A private source.”

  “And it’s enough for tools and seeds and trees?”

  “It’s enough to cover everything,” he said. “I’ve been over the budget with them.” He’d sat down with the budget for the Edible Neighborhood every night this week. He knew what it would cost, and it wasn’t even going to make a dent in his bank account.

  “Can we choose what we want in our spots?” a woman asked. Beverly Clearance. “This map has walnut trees in front of my house, but I think they’re messy.”

  “Of course,” Seth said. “The map is just a guide. It’s not set in stone.”

  “Is the option to opt-out still available?”

  Seth searched for the person who’d asked the question, but Jenna stepped to his side.

  “Of course it is, George,” she said sweetly, her smile powerful when she employed it in full-force. “But I know you plant tomatoes and pumpkins in your backyard and then bring the extras to church. Why can’t you just put those plants in the front, let others weed for you, and they can take what you don’t want?”

  George Hill folded his arms and looked straight ahead.

  “No one has to participate who doesn’t want to,” Seth said to cover the awkwardness. “We encourage everyone to put at least one thing out front for everyone to enjoy. But yes, the opt-out option is still available.”

  “It’s my understanding that the sign-ups will be done the same way as last time, too,” Ruth said. “Is that right?”

  “Yes,” Seth said, giving her a grateful smile. “Honestly, I don’t think it matters if we all plant apple trees. The idea is to come together as a community and build something to last generations. That’s why we plant trees and vines and bulbs, though annual plants and vegetables are perfectly acceptable too.”

  He surveyed the crowd, but most of these people were really good at hiding what they were thinking. “Should we vote about sending out the invitation to move forward with the project to every resident on the street? Or are there other questions?”

  “Let’s vote,” someone on the front row said, and Ruth said, “I second the vote.”

  Seth nodded to Jenna, fading behind her as she called for the vote. To his great surprise, every hand in the room—including George’s—went up. A smile burst onto his face, and he grinned while Ruth said, “Now come on, people. I can’t keep all of these cookies. Come have something to eat.”

  His gaze landed on Jenna, and she gave him a thumbs-up that made his whole world brighter. Why he hadn’t kissed her last night, he wasn’t sure. He really wanted her to know he liked her, but he wasn’t great with words.

  Or maybe he was. He had admitted to her that he’d stayed awake, mad at himself for not kissing her after their date.

  After lunch, he told himself, hoping he wouldn’t chicken out for a second time. He wondered where the brave man who’d leaned right over and kissed her in the hospital had gone. At the same time, he wanted their next kiss to be right, not impulsive.

  And last night, with the things they’d shared, he’d known kissing Jenna wasn’t right. It might not be today, either.

  Seth was willing to wait, because he had a feeling his relationship with Jenna could bloom into something amazing, the same way the Edible Neighborhood could.

  “Thank you, Ruth,” she said, and Seth blinked his way out of his thoughts.

  “Yes,” he said. “Thanks so much.” He picked up his folder. “I’ll get the mailers out on Monday, and I’ll send you a digital copy for the email list too. You’re still okay to send them?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ve got a few new emails too, from the Parkers who moved in on the corner.”

  “Great,” he said.

  “They’re here,” Ruth said. “If you wanted to meet them.” She scanned the crowd. “Or they were…”

  “It’s okay,” Seth said, his stomach growling and his anticipation to be alone with Jenna growing. “There will be time to meet everyone, I’m sure.” Her house was starting to empty, and Seth edged toward the door too.

  “Who’s the donor?” Ruth asked before he could go.

  He exchanged a glance with Jenna as he turned back to her. “Uh, it’s me, Ruth. I’m the donor.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “I thought you decided the project was too expensive for you.”

  He cleared his throat, glad his mother had already taken a loaf of cherry walnut bread and left through the front door. “I recently came into some money.”

  “And this is what you want to spend it on?” Ruth looked back and forth between him and Jenna.

  “The Edible Neighborhood is important to him,” Jenna said, coming to his rescue. She gave Ruth a smile and asked her about her grandchildren in San Antonio. That got the woman talking about something else, and Seth’s body warmed with how well he and Jenna worked together.

  Finally out the door and in the safety of his truck, he sighed. “Wow. Thanks so much for everything you did in there.”

  “Yeah, I totally charmed them,” she said, laughing.

  “You did.” He buckled h
is seatbelt and got the truck moving. “I’m starving. Did we decide on a place?”

  She took a few moments to answer, and when she did, she asked, “Is it too hot to get something to go and drive over to the lake?”

  He glanced at the screen in the middle of his console. “It’s eighty-four degrees.”

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  Seth wouldn’t choose to eat outside with the temperature that high, but he wanted Jenna to be happy. And a romantic lakeside lunch sounded perfect. “It’s doable,” he said.

  “You and the heat,” she said, shaking her head. “But if it’s doable, then let’s go to Crisp’s and get sandwiches. They also have a divine chocolate cake, and I think we’ve earned it.”

  “And sugar cookies,” he said. “It sure was nice of Ruth to have all those refreshments.”

  “I don’t really like their sugar cookies,” Jenna said.

  “Stop it right now,” Seth said, looking at her. “How is that possible?”

  “I think they’re dry.” Jenna giggled, and everything male inside him roared to life.

  “Well,” he said in a falsely horrified voice. “We’ll agree to disagree.” He actually liked that they didn’t have every little thing in common. Plus, then he wouldn’t have to share his cookie with her.

  Seth couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this alive, and he turned on First Street to avoid Main.

  “You never drive on Main Street,” she said.

  “Not if I can help it,” he said. “Too many tourists.”

  “They have an amazing dog store on Main.”

  “Really? What kind of stuff do they have?”

  “You know, clothes and jackets and stuff.”

  He glanced at her, pulling up to a stoplight that crossed Main. “Really? Do my dogs seem like the type of canines that would wear jackets?”

  Jenna burst out laughing. “No,” she said. “Not at all. But you know, a bandana or something wouldn’t kill them. Or you.”

  The light turned green, and he eased into the intersection. “Okay, point taken.” He thought about the dogs he’d be adopting out next weekend. “Should I get some for the adoptions?”

  “Adoptions?”

  “I’m having my monthly dog adoption event next weekend,” he said. “I have eight dogs ready for homes.”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice growing in volume. “Let’s stop on the way home, and I’ll help you pick them out.”

  “You look way too excited about this,” he said, chuckling afterward.

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “You have the big bucks now. You can afford some bandanas for your dogs. I guarantee they’ll get adopted faster.”

  “You guarantee it?” He laughed then, pulling up to the curb and parking on the street in an available spot about half a block from Crisp’s.

  “Fine, I can’t guarantee anything,” she said when they met on the sidewalk. “But I’d totally be more inclined to adopt if I saw a dog wearing a bandana.”

  “You would not,” he said, threading his fingers through hers. “You don’t even like dogs.”

  “I love dogs, I’ll have you know,” she said. “But I have Apples and Gypsy. We don’t have room for dogs.”

  Seth shook his head, enjoying this flirty, fun conversation. “How many rooms do you have in that house?”

  “Too many,” she said, and the mood changed.

  He squeezed her hand. “I’ll bet.” They walked the rest of the way to Crisp’s in silence, and Seth liked that he could exist with just the two of them, no words needed.

  “I miss my mom the most,” she said as they stood in the to-go line. “I mean, I miss Dad too, but he died so long ago. Mom’s death is just more…fresh.”

  Seth nodded, though he couldn’t comprehend her feelings. He still had both of his parents, and she didn’t have even one. “Sometimes life is unfair,” he said.

  “Is it ever,” Jenna said. “Thankfully, there’s chocolate cake on the really bad days.” She leaned into his side, and Seth put his arm around her. She didn’t seem to mind showing the world that they were together, and Seth glanced around the restaurant. If even one person saw them, the whole town was likely to know about the relationship.

  Yes, thousands of tourists came to town every year, but that didn’t mean the local rumor mill didn’t operate at top speed. Lois Lundy caught Seth’s eye, and he lifted his chin as a way to say hello.

  Inwardly, he groaned. Lois knitted, same as his mother, and he estimated he had twenty minutes before his mother knew who his new girlfriend was.

  Girlfriend rang like a gong in his head. Was Jenna his girlfriend? He wasn’t interested in anyone else, that was for sure. But he wasn’t sure when that status was reached for him. He’d never talked about it with Wendy. They’d dated for a year before he’d asked her to marry him, and that was that.

  “What are you getting?” Jenna asked, turning toward him.

  “The ultimate bacon club,” he said. “Double the bacon. Double the meat.”

  She looked aghast, and he laughed. “What about you? Something veggie or something?”

  “Ew, no,” she said. “Probably just the turkey provolone. It has this sauce on it I like.”

  “Yeah, I’ve had that,” he said.

  Jenna sucked in a breath and stepped in front of him, practically hiding herself and using him as a shield. “There’s a first grade teacher over there,” she hissed.

  “Yeah, and Lois Lundy just stared me down,” Seth said. “My mother will know we’re here in about five seconds.”

  Jenna turned and looked at him, the space between him and the family in front of them almost non-existent. She was close enough to kiss, that was for sure. Way closer than she’d been last night.

  “Do we care about that?” she asked.

  “I don’t,” Seth said quickly. “I already told my mom I was seeing someone. I just didn’t say who.”

  Jenna looked over to someone, but Seth didn’t know everyone and their occupations. “It’s not a secret.”

  “Definitely not,” he said. At least he didn’t want their relationship to be a secret. Why would they need to do that anyway?

  Jenna moved back to his side, deliberately placing her hand in his, and smiled up at him. He grinned down at her, wishing they were alone so he could kiss her. This felt like a good time, but he absolutely wasn’t going to kiss her in a restaurant full of people.

  Nope. Not happening.

  The first kiss between them hadn’t felt real—almost like it was an accident. A whim. An impulse. The next time he did it, it wasn’t going to be rushed or public. So not here. Not now.

  “Next,” the girl at the register said, and Seth stepped up to order their sandwiches, cake, and “Two sugar cookies, please.”

  “I don’t want one,” Jenna said.

  Seth gave her an innocent smile. “I didn’t order one for you.”

  “You’re going to eat two of those?” She shook her head, but she laughed in the next moment. “Gross.”

  He laughed while he paid, and he and Jenna moved to the bench to wait for their lunch. He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, catching her eye before ducking his head and hiding behind his cowboy hat.

  Heat flared through his neck and face, and he said nothing. But surely she knew how he felt about her, and that those feelings were starting to deepen and grow. She had to know, because he wasn’t good at hiding them. He might not be able to vocalize them, but he felt them streaming out of him, so she must as well.

  His phone chimed, and he pulled it from his pocket. His mother had texted, and he groaned. “Here we go.”

  “Who is it?”

  “My mother.” The phone rang in the next instant, and he wondered how in the world she’d expected him to read and answer her text so fast.

  Jenna was grinning at him like she found something highly amusing. “Answer it.”

  “I’m not answering it,” he said, swiping the call off.

  �
�She’s just going to call back.”

  “No, she’ll get the hint,” he said, though he suspected Jenna was right. He started typing out a response to her text—you’re seeing Jenna Wright?—but another call came in and his finger landed on the green phone icon, opening the call.

  “Seth?” he heard his mother say through the line, and he sighed. Beside him, Jenna started giggling, and he lifted the phone to his ear so his mother wouldn’t say something to further embarrass him.

  Chapter Ten

  Jenna leaned back on her elbows, her face toward the sun. A sigh moved through her lips, and she said, “I love this lake.”

  “Mm,” Seth said from beside her. He’d said little more than “yes” and “no” to his mother while they waited for their sandwiches. Once they’d gotten their food and returned to the truck, the awkwardness between them had evaporated. She’d entertained him with stories about Liz Belmont’s first graders—and the teacher herself—on the way to the lake.

  Sunshine was Jenna’s love language, and she loved being outside, even in the heat. Well, and with a slice of chocolate cake, everything was better. Even something that was already great, like Seth Johnson.

  The sound of the waves coming ashore intensified, and she opened her eyes. A boat must’ve gone by, and the wake had finally reached shore. They sat above the lake, on the grass overlooking the beach below. The noise of children and splashing water filled the air too, and Jenna enjoyed that as well.

  She couldn’t believe Seth hadn’t been emotional about not having kids. Deep down, she knew there were other ways to have children, should she decide she really wanted one. She’d derailed the thoughts any time they’d come that day, because she and Seth had barely taken their first step on the journey toward love, marriage, and family.

  One date, she’d been reminding herself. They’d been on one date, and she wasn’t even sure it counted, because they hadn’t left his house.

  One kiss, she’d told herself too. And it wasn’t even a real kiss, because she hadn’t even seen it coming. Seth had not even tried to kiss her again, and she’d started to think she’d hallucinated the first one in the hospital.