by Gemma Snow
The car took one final corner and pulled up the small incline in a cloud of dust. The dirt slowly settled and Ryder blinked to clear his vision. A BMW. Fuck. Anyone who had ever even been to a ranch would know how out of place a car like that was. A truck like his old Ford was the best bet, and the ranch hands drove Jeeps or SUVS. But a two-seater Beemer convertible? They were in deep shit.
Then the door to the sports car opened and one foot slid out, landing in the dust. The foot wore a red high heel, at least three inches tall and skinny as a pencil. Ryder glanced over at Christian, who wore an expression of disbelief.
So close. They had been so close to buying ownership in Triple Diamond. But something in Ryder’s gut said that whoever was attached to that red high-heeled foot was about to stir up trouble in his life the likes of which he’d never before seen.
Chapter Three
Madison didn’t know what to expect from her visit to the Triple Diamond Ranch. Life in Silicon Valley, barely an hour away from Chinatown, where she’d grown up, hadn’t prepared her for the vast openness, the rising mountains or sprawling sky of the Montana landscape. It was about forty minutes from the airport, which had given Madison ample time to see the unfamiliar state and to double down on her plans of selling the strange inheritance as fast as possible. She was not the kind of person to own a place like this.
Case in point—the white Beemer she’d picked up from the car rental had smeared brown and red within ten seconds of driving and the guy in the gas station had laughed his ass off when questioned about the nearest car wash. Still, she did have to admit that the wide, open stretches of highway with no other cars in sight were a nice break from the grueling traffic and perpetual congestion of downtown San Francisco. While taking the roads to Triple Diamond Ranch too quickly, she’d mulled over just how much easier her role of event planning manager for Daniels and Hark for the Valley’s tech titans would be if she could get across town in less time than it took to get what felt like halfway across the state.
But now she was here, if the large, cast-iron sign of three diamonds surrounded by mountains on both sides and a large TD in curling script she had passed was any indication. Okay, so the view from the drive up to what Mr. Sidney had referred to as Holmwood Manor was beautiful. She hadn’t seen that much sky in a long time, not since the occasional camping trip in college. But the blasts of dirt encircling her and wide stretches of nothingness were unsettling. She just wasn’t accustomed to this much quiet or fresh air or peaceful empty space.
With a heavy sigh, Madison killed the ignition. The sooner she got this whole thing over with, the sooner everything in her life would return to normal. Well, not everything. But the call from Mr. Sidney and the frantic flight to Montana, of all places, not to mention, the insane work hours she kept, longer this week to prepare for her trip, had busied her enough to temporarily forget Joshua and the scene she had walked in on less than a week ago.
Whatever. One problem at a time.
She tossed her phone into her oversized purse, scooped the bag across her shoulder and stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind her.
And stopped dead in her tracks.
The poster boy for pretty country leaned against the wooden fence a few feet from her car, his bare chest on display for all to see—and whoa, baby, there was a hell of a lot to see—with a T-shirt slung over one shoulder and his worn jeans riding low on his hips. His hair was short and blonde and his blue eyes sparkled with amusement, undoubtedly at her expense for one reason or another.
But there wasn’t just one staggeringly hot stud suddenly making it all kinds of hard for Madison to breathe. Next to cowboy cliché sat his total opposite. This man definitely wasn’t pretty. His black hair curled against his shoulders, where swirls of rich ink adorned skin tanned dark from the sun. He wore a pair of reflective aviator sunglasses, but rather than minimizing Madison’s sensation of being scrutinized, they heightened it.
Compared to their cotton tanks and faded jeans, her pencil skirt and form-fitting button-down felt wildly out of place. The red high heels she’d thought so cute when dressing that morning were for the San Fran event-planning manager and not the crumbling dirt driveway of a Montana ranch.
Stupid, Madison, stupid. Of course, she’d been thinking that a lot lately.
But she refused to go anywhere near that topic of conversation, so she pushed aside her insecurities, squared her shoulders and strode over to the two men. The man with the long hair was definitely the more intimidating of the two, his expression stormy and intense even from behind the mirrored glasses. So, she smiled at him and stuck out her hand to pretty boy first.
“Madison Hollis,” she said. He molded his hand into her grip more gently than she’d anticipated, sliding the professional greeting into something intimate. Quickly, she pulled her hand away and extended it to tall, dark and dangerous. That wasn’t any better. His rough, calloused hands stroked her mind with totally insane fantasies of how they might feel caressing the rest of her skin. “I’m looking for Ryder Dean and Christian Harlow.”
She didn’t miss the way pretty boy looked her up and down, nor her body’s vibrating response of at his perusal, despite her best efforts to ignore it.
“You found ’em,” he said. “I’m Ryder, this is Christian.” The other man nodded and Ryder continued, “What can we do ya for?” His smooth roll of an accent dragged her attention to the soft bob of his Adam’s apple in the column of his throat that led to a very bare, very muscled chest. It was sun-soaked and…
Get it together, Madison.
“I’m the new owner,” she said. It came out more like a question. Funny that, it was her very first time saying the statement out loud. “I believe we have some things to discuss.”
Understatement of the fucking millennium. She’d seen pictures of the ranch before coming out, of course, but Triple Diamond went way beyond anything she could have ever imagined. It was massive, staggeringly beautiful and just overwhelming. There was suddenly more acreage in her name than ten city blocks in San Francisco. It was a lot to take in.
Christian tilted his chin, looking over the edge of his aviator glasses and giving her a glimpse into the mysterious, penetrating eyes below the reflective frames. Oh, yeah, definitely intimidating. Definitely tempting.
“Are you certain you’re in the right place, Ms. Hollis?” he asked, and while his voice wasn’t outright rude, it certainly wasn’t welcoming either.
Ryder slapped Christian on the back and stepped away from the fence.
“What he means is, I don’t believe we’ve ever seen a ranch owner wearing high heels before,” he said with a grin. “Most folks around here are the shit-kicker-boots type, if you’ll pardon my language, ma’am.”
Oh, he’s really laying it on thick, isn’t he? And you’re eating it up.
Ryder indicated the manor house with a tilt of his head and Christian hopped—if a man like him ever hopped—down from the fence, his gaze never leaving Madison. She felt it like the heat from the sun—a warm, dangerous caress, one she shouldn’t want more of, but that left her feeling flushed and not a little sexy.
“I’m from San Francisco,” she said, hoisting her purse up higher on her shoulder, suddenly feeling the absurd need to explain herself. “We don’t exactly have an excess of dirt roads.” Without waiting for a reply, she unlocked the trunk of the car to reveal her large Vera Wang traveling duffel. A little unsteady on the now-totally-insane-idea thin heels in the packed dirt, she crossed over to the car to get it and slung the large bag over her free shoulder.
Madison didn’t miss the look both men shot her way. Fine, so she was an outsider. So what? But her self-consciousness disappeared when they grew closer to the house. It was a gorgeous three-story mansion in shades of red and white and she ached to be inside its cool walls. She was so focused on the soft, ageless beauty of the home that she dug her heel into the dirt at a bad angle and stumbled against the dry ground, almost losing her footing.
/> Christian brought his arm around her waist in an instant, steadying her until she could pull her damn shoe free.
“Whoa, there.” He looked, if possible, more irritated than he had when she first arrived and Madison resisted the urge to shake him off. Or maybe it was because his touch, simple though it was—nothing more intimate than one stranger helping another—made her ache, even with the barrier of shirt between them, and she felt his power in an overwhelming and confusing way. A spark of desire kindled deep in her belly, far deeper than her frustration at his less-than-warm welcome, and her breath caught in her throat.
As if burned, Christian stepped away from her, but held one hand out.
“Let me carry your bag.”
He was definitely annoyed with her. A grimace caught at the edges of his lips, twisting and dangerous. When Madison handed him her duffel—heavy with a dozen stacks of files and legal documents—she wondered what he would look like if he smiled. Dazzling. Dangerous.
Oh, God, oh, God. Soooo not the time, Madison.
The rest of the short walk continued quietly, but Madison’s internal monologue ran in a continuous stream of confusion and kindling desire. Confusion, because she couldn’t quite figure out which of the two drop-dead-sexy cowboys at her side set off alarms bells, and double confusion because from where she stood, it was kind of, sort of both?
A moment later, Ryder unlocked the back door to Holmwood and indicated for her to lead them inside. The door let into a beautiful country kitchen, done up in blues and whites, with soft gingham curtains and rustic wooden details. Madison hadn’t spent much time in the countryside, but this kitchen was everything she’d ever pictured it to be. All it needed now was a pie cooling on the windowsill.
“You can’t stay here, since we turned off the electricity and water,” Ryder said, as Christian placed her bag down on a seat near the table none too gently. “But we’ll give you the tour and you can crash in the guest bedroom at our place. Do you want to see some of the land before we talk business?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Madison said, her breathing suddenly shallow at the thought of spending the night in the same house as the two cowboys. The kitchen wasn’t small by any stretch, but with the enormous men taking up all the cool air to breathe and making her mind wander to the improper uses for a kitchen table, getting back out into the open air would probably be the best way for her to focus on what needed to be done. Which is everything.
“Do you have another pair of shoes?” Christian asked, his voice skeptical, though she didn’t miss his perusing gaze sliding down the expanse of her leg to where it met the tall, stupidly thin red heels.
Madison nodded. “I’ve got my running shoes,” she said, unzipping the duffel Christian had placed on the chair to root through it.
“You’re killing me here, Ms. Hollis,” Ryder put in, his tone genuinely humorous and kind, even as he mocked her. He opened a door she hadn’t seen, just off to the right of the kitchen entrance, and poked around for a minute before finding a pair of boots.
“Think these will fit you?” he asked. “Just until we can buy you a new pair? You can’t go walking around a ranch in June in a pair of sneakers. They’ll be ruined in three minutes.”
Madison rolled her eyes but accepted his logic and the boots. To her surprise, they were the perfect size, and when she slid them onto her feet, they were comfortable and secure. They decidedly did not match the tight pencil skirt or the form-fitting blouse she wore, both items from the very large work clothes section of her closet and so strong a part of her that Madison wasn’t even sure she remembered how to dress another way. Not anymore.
But she pushed that surprisingly depressing thought aside and headed toward the door.
“Let’s go,” she said with a smile, “before I fall asleep on my feet.” She was out of the door and back in the summer sun before either of the men and felt a small sense of satisfaction at being just half a step ahead of them. Something about both of them, Christian with his dark, simmering gaze, Ryder with the sexy masquerade covering the depths below, made her curious and interested—far more than she had any right to be. Especially since Ryder seemed nothing more than friendly and Christian was being a downright ass. And yet…they intrigued her, for some reason or another.
Yeah, it has nothing at all to do with how hot both of them are, does it?
Nothing at all. I’m just tired and they just happen to be here. And very hot.
Now that she was here, nearly eight hours after she had started her day, the fatigue was setting in, but she didn’t have time to feel tired, at least not yet. Best to just get started. On business. Just business. The business kind of business.
They followed, far more slowly, clearly not as excited to begin a tour of the several-thousand-mile ranch. Or maybe the lack of excitement had more to do with the company—not something Madison felt like reading into, not with all the lack of good company vibes she’d gotten from Joshua this week. Still, she could deal with pissy men. It was the ones who put on façades and told people everything was just fine that made it difficult for her.
“It’s a good look,” Ryder said, the grin on his face belying the false compliment, and self-consciousness washed over her.
He’s just being friendly. I do look ridiculous, wearing cowboy boots and a pencil skirt. He is not Joshua.
And yet, after two years and one shitty breakup, it was a challenge not to let the insidious voice of her ex-fiancé slip into her mind and root around.
“This was your idea,” Madison said, trying to keep her voice neutral and not telling of the depths of her hurt. Nope, back to business, please and thank you. “Now, if you don’t mind my asking, how is it that I’m communicating with you guys? What are your roles on the Triple Diamond Ranch?”
Maybe it was rude, but she had a lot questions and it was unlikely she’d be able to get out to Montana again soon, what with work being what it always was. Her current time off had been hard-won and she had been optimistic in not booking a return flight, hoping she wouldn’t need the whole week to get a sale into motion. Ha, fuck work if they can’t take a joke. Forget the paperwork—just one look at the Triple Diamond Ranch could tell any novice that the money she’d make from the sale would ensure she would never have to work again.
Then what will you do with yourself, Ms. Workaholic?
Spending a summer doing those two cowboys sounds pretty nice…
“We run the joint,” Christian said, stating a simple fact, the only thing he’d said to her without attitude since she’d arrived. He slid the aviator glasses up into his hair and just as she’d thought, his eyes ran deep and intense. In fact, the expression in his dark brown gaze could have very nearly been read as an invitation. No, that would be absurd. Everything about this guy screamed irritation and annoyance, not promises and challenges.
Ryder came over to stand beside Madison, and though she could barely see him out of the corner of her eye, his presence made her tingle just as much as Christian’s. Intense, if a little more playful, Ryder had the country-boy charm down to a science. A very alluring science.
“Christian and I started working here the summer we turned fourteen,” Ryder explained. He guided her down the path and away from Holmwood Manor, Christian beside them, practically vibrating in his quiet irritation. “When we graduated high school, Mason gave us the option to go to college on his dime—if we promised to work the ranch for five years. I got my livestock vet degree and Christian focused on agricultural engineering, then we came back to the ranch full time. Mason made that offer twelve years ago and we never left, even after the five-year mark. So he started handing off more and more of the ranch duties to us.” Ryder grinned. “Old man always said we had potential.”
That was a lot to take in, so Madison just nodded, now even less sure of what to make of the two very intelligent, very sexy cowboys walking her into the barn of some unknown uncle’s enormous ranch.
“If you don’t mind my aski
ng,” she said, trying to turn back to business, the real kind of business, thank you very much, “Why didn’t he just leave the farm to you two?”
Beside her, Ryder and Christian exchanged loaded looks, and Madison wondered if they were so adept at wordless communication in all aspects of their lives. Images of slicked-down muscles and long, thick… Madison!
“His death was unexpected,” Ryder said, when they neared the barn door. “And Mason wanted Triple Diamond to stay in the family. He was always very clear about that.”
Madison shook her head, for several reasons, but it didn’t clarify anything.
“I never even knew I had an uncle Mason,” she said after a moment, pausing to step over the wooden doorframe and into the barn. “How I can be family?” Well, that wasn’t exactly the right question to ask. After the car crash when she’d been ten, her dad’s brother and sister-in-law had legally adopted her and she’d grown up as a sister to her cousin Lily. While she knew all about her dad’s family, her mother had been the only tie to that side’s history. Her grandparents were gone and her mom had never had any brothers or sisters, or so Madison had believed. She was suddenly very aware of the important connection Triple Diamond had to her family.
“Do you ride?” Ryder asked, indicating the horse that Madison only just realized hovered over her. Instinctively, she took a step away from it. It wasn’t that she was afraid of horses, per se. It was just that she didn’t feel inclined to go anywhere near one, especially not in this stupider-by-the-minute tight skirt she was wearing.
Never taking her eyes off the horse, she replied, “I haven’t had much opportunity…to learn how to ride. Not too many horse barns in the Bay Area.”
“Stables,” Christian corrected. “You can ride with me. We’re better off than walking and the battery in the golf cart is dead.”