Resisting the Rancher

by Kadie Scott

  Rusty smiled. “You had me at chocolate.”

  Will shook his head when the waitress turned to him. She left and the same tension she’d interrupted returned. He needed to do something to break it. “My family are the reason I need to succeed.”

  She dropped her gaze to the table where she fiddled with her glass. “Because you’re not continuing with the traditional ranching?”

  She glanced up and Will nodded. “My family believes in me. They’ve sunk a lot of money into my new business, and my father and two brothers are doing all the other work while I get things running. I can’t let them down. Do you understand?”

  Her lips twisted in a strangely bitter smile. “More than you know.”

  Why? Because of her father? He had a feeling she knew a lot about trying to prove herself. He just hoped she’d direct that fire toward helping him. Like she said.

  The waitress interrupted again to place Rusty’s pie in front of her. Rusty took one bite and groaned.

  Will chuckled. “Good?”

  She gave him a sheepish smile over another bite before shoveling it into her mouth. Rusty Walker apparently had a sweet tooth.

  She finished chewing and cleared her throat. “If you took me on, I’d do everything in my power to help you with your goals.”

  Will considered her for a long moment. “I believe you.”

  She stilled. “Good.” Rusty waived down the waitress and asked for the check. Then turned to him. “It’ll only take me a day to get my things. I’ll be back tomorrow about this time.”

  “When’s your next round?”

  “Thursday.”

  Plenty of time. Will paid, then held Rusty’s chair out for her. Automatically he reached for her hand to lead her outside, not even thinking about it. His family were huggers and casual touch, to them, was just an everyday thing.

  But Rusty twisted out of his grasp and took a few hurried steps to get ahead of him. Apparently, she wasn’t a casual touch person, no matter how innocent taking her hand had been. Or maybe not so innocent, because he’d been wanting to touch her since their kiss. Will made a mental note to keep his hands to himself around her. Given his unusual reaction to the woman, that was probably a good idea for him too.

  They rode back to the rodeo grounds in silence. She opened the door and hopped out before he’d even shut off the engine. She looked up at him, and suddenly Will didn’t want her to leave, even for the day. Which was ridiculous. He tightened his grip on the wheel.

  Hell, this is not what I need right now. She was about to be his employee.

  “See you tomorrow?” she asked.

  He tipped an imaginary hat, his own hat propped on the dash. “I’ll be around.”

  Chapter Six

  The highway stretched out before Rusty like a long ribbon of black in the inky night. Rusty blinked away her tiredness and kept her foot on the gas. Not much longer now. She could see the glow of the city on the horizon. She’d get to her room and sleep. Tomorrow she’d worry about things like food and giving Mischief a good workout.

  Her phone rang, lighting up the cup holder where she’d stashed it and interrupting the song on the radio. Rusty glanced at the display, but didn’t recognize the number, except that it was a Texas number. She flicked her thumb to hit the button on her steering wheel that allowed her to use the truck’s Bluetooth to talk.

  “Rusty Walker.”

  “It’s Will.”

  Despite her strict instructions to her body not to respond to Will in any way, shape, or form, her dang heart hadn’t paid attention to the lecture, because it sped up at the sound of his deep voice. “Hi, Will.”

  “I’m just checking in on you. I didn’t see you around today.”

  Was he seriously that nice? Or was he going to turn into another form of babysitter? “I’m still on the road,” she said.

  “Did you get everything packed up okay?”

  “Yeah. It took a little longer than I expected.” Turned out when she lived her entire life in mostly one place, college being her only time away from home, she accumulated a ton of stuff.

  That and she’d been particular about what she packed, trying to make sure she only took away stuff she’d paid for herself or items that had been gifts. Good thing she had a cover on the bed of the truck, because she’d stuffed it to almost overflowing.

  “Where are you now?” he asked next.

  Rusty sighed. “I know you’re trying to be nice, Will. But I can look after myself.”

  A pause greeted that statement. “I know that, Rusty.”

  She pursed her lips at the distance that infused his voice now.

  “I was going to pick up some dinner and take it back to the B and B. If you’re close enough, I thought you might like some too. Save you the trip.”

  Rusty’s stomach rumbled at the very thought of food. She was tired enough, and it was late enough, she’d written off the idea of dinner. But after she’d just played the independent bitch card, it seemed hypocritical to take him up on the offer. “I’ll grab something later.”

  “Sounds good.” Another pause. “Your friend Maggie did well tonight.”

  “Yeah?” she asked. Was it sad she was glad he hadn’t hung up? The long drive—away from her home and her hopes—must be making her feel lonely.

  “She didn’t quite hit your time, but she’s close. You two are top of the leader board at the moment.”

  Rusty straightened at that. “That’s terrific. Now if I can turn in a good run on Thursday, Holly will be in some good money.”

  “Yup. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She refused to acknowledge the twinge of disappointment that he was hanging up. She was just lonely on the solitary drive. “Sounds good. Night, Will.”

  “Night.”

  She pushed the button to end the call, and the music came back over the speakers. An hour later, she gratefully parked her truck in the street outside the Victorian house where she and Will were staying. She left all her stuff in the back, locked under the cover and grabbed her purse. She’d left her gear while she’d been gone, so she didn’t even need to bring in a suitcase.

  Bleary from the drive, her steps dragging, she hauled her butt into the house and up the three flights of stairs where she let herself into her room. She’d chosen this place on a whim. The idea at the time had been to get away from motels and her father’s watch dogs.

  She was glad she had. The small room was all understated grace with tan and white wallpaper, and a tasteful white bedspread on the antique iron bed. French-style doors opened up to a private bath that included a six-foot-long, claw-foot tub.

  Now she eyed the tub, debating if she was so tired she might accidentally fall asleep in the water if she drew a bath. But her muscles were so stiff from sitting in one position for hours, the idea appealed. She gave in, and fifteen minutes later sighed with pleasure as the hot water soothed away two days of travel and packing and a hard goodbye to her old life.

  She was about to drag herself out of the water, which was turning lukewarm anyway, when a knock sounded at her door. With a groan, she hauled herself up, and wrapped a towel around her body. “Yes?” she called to whoever was on the other side of the door.

  “It’s Will.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh! Um…” She glanced down at her towel. No way was she opening the door to him like this. Way too cliché. “I was in the bath. Give me a second.”

  Pause. “Sure.”

  Wide awake now, and frustrated as hell that her heart was doing that fluttery thing again, Rusty rushed through dressing, throwing on her PJs, which constituted a black T-shirt with words in pink that read “Please don’t make me adult today.” And matching pink shorts. The outfit was modest enough, but she added a bra, because answering him without one seemed like asking for trouble. Her hair she left piled on top of her head where she’d twisted it up in topknot for her bath.

  A quick glance around her room, which was in good order, and she swung the d
oor open to find Will standing there holding bags of food.

  Her breath whooshed from her as his gaze traveled slowly down her body. Maybe the PJs had been a bad idea. The way his eyes lingered on her legs, and the deep V of the shirt had her shivering in stark reaction. His mouth quirked as he read the words printed across her chest.

  Then he blinked, and all the heat she thought she’d seen in his deep blue gaze seemed to disappear. Maybe wishful thinking had put it there in the first place.

  He held up the bags. “I got a little extra food just in case. You hungry?”

  “Not really.” Unfortunately, probably thanks to the mouthwatering scent of BBQ, her stomach chose that moment to grumble rather loudly about the lack of food in it.

  Rather than let Will comment, she sighed, and stepped back. “Come on in.”

  To his credit, he contained a grin she was sure hid behind lips pressed tightly together, and didn’t comment as he stepped inside. He immediately moved to the small writing desk, the only table in the room, and started unloading cartons of food.

  “I didn’t realize how much they were going to give me,” he said. “No way could I have finished this on my own.”

  She raised her eyes at the containers of brisket, smoked turkey, and sausage, along with several sides like potato salad and coleslaw. “Did you buy the entire store?” she teased.

  He shrugged. “I think my eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

  She pulled out the delicate wooden chair and sat down, leaving him to take the larger armchair which was more likely to support his greater bulk. They were quiet for a few minutes while they loaded their paper plates with food and dug in.

  Two meals in two days. If she wasn’t careful, she’d start thinking of these as dates.

  Rusty opened her mouth to make some kind of random comment to break the silence, but he beat her to it.

  “So, you like funny T-shirts?” he asked.

  She slow blinked, trying to track with the topic, and he waved at her PJ top.

  “Oh,” she said. “I have a few, I guess. Not as many as you apparently.”

  He flicked her a half-sheepish, half-amused smile “You noticed those, huh?”

  “Kinda hard to miss.” She waved at today’s example which read “Sprinkles are for winners.”

  “Yeah.” He took a bite of BBQ and carefully chewed. Was that a… was he blushing?

  “What’s the story with those?” she pushed.

  He gave a small huff of a sigh. “My family gets them for me as gifts.”

  “And…” She had no idea how she knew there was more, but she did.

  He raised his eyebrows, but still answered. “They tease me that I have no sense of humor and so they use the T-shirts to teach me how to be funny.”

  “Huh. Seems to me your sense of humor is just fine.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered. “Did you get everything packed up okay?”

  Rusty stiffened, but a glance at his face showed only general curiosity. She wanted to shake her head. She’d never encountered anyone as seemingly laid-back and up front as Williams Hill. She found him surprisingly easy to be around, despite the annoying way her body perked up in his presence.

  “It was harder than I expected it to be.” She found herself confessing.

  He was mid-chew of food, but raised his eyebrows in question.

  “A lot of memories to be walking away from.” She tried for a nonchalant shrug. Why had she laid that on him? It wasn’t his problem.

  “I bet,” he said. At least he didn’t seem too concerned about the heavy topic. “I couldn’t imagine moving. Other than college, I’ve lived in the same room in my parents’ house since I was born, practically.”

  “Me, too.”

  “If you accumulate half the stuff I do, you had a lot to pack up.”

  Except she doubted he’d be worried about sifting out the items that his parents would hold over his head as not really his. Living out from under her father’s thumb, if not the shadow of his legacy and now his impending passing, would be weird. That was for sure.

  “Your father cornered me today.” He suddenly dropped into the conversation.

  “Oh?” She tried not to make a face. After all, she’d promised Will’s business with her dad wouldn’t be a problem.

  “Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, the scratch of the stubble loud in the otherwise quiet room. “He demanded to know if I’d hired you.”

  Rusty curled her hands into fists. Was her dad going to block her attempts to be independent now? “And what’d you say?”

  “I told him I had.”

  That didn’t necessarily mean anything. “Was he mad?”

  Will’s lips thinned, those blue eyes of his darkening as he frowned. “You could say that.”

  He stood and started gathering the remains of their food. Rusty couldn’t eat any more anyway. Not with her mind on Will’s encounter with her father. That was it? Where was the yelling? Or telling her this wasn’t going to work out?

  She got to her feet to help him. “You don’t seem too concerned.”

  “I’m not. Yet.”

  Rusty wrestled with the lid to the potato salad, her inner turmoil coming out in an inability to win the skirmish with the plastic. Will stacked all the containers into the plastic bag, then stopped and covered her hands, ending her agitated movements. She stilled under his touch, warm and solid.

  “Rusty,” he murmured.

  She lifted her gaze to his to find kindness in his eyes, something she hadn’t encountered in a long time.

  “Would it be easier if I knew the situation? In order to deal with him?”

  She’d already been considering telling him. After all, given his position, smack between her and her father, it was only fair.

  She took a deep breath. “My father is dying.”

  Will blinked a couple of times and she gave him a moment to process. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he finally said.

  She bit her lip, trying to hold back frustratingly useless tears that stung the back of her eyes. “Thanks. He just told me the other day. An inoperable brain tumor.”

  “I see.” Will ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up. “Forgive me for saying this, but shouldn’t you be staying with him?”

  Normally, she’d take that as judgmental, but only kind curiosity looked back at her. “I should. And I would. Except…”

  Oh, Lord. Was she going to have to admit to this humiliating situation?

  “Except?” Will asked.

  “He’s demanding I get married. He’s going to change his will so that I only inherit if I’ve married a man he approves of.”

  “What?” The question punched from Will so loudly that she jumped.

  She waved a hand, shushing him.

  “Are you kidding me?” he asked in more hushed tones.

  She gave a humorless laugh. “I wish I were. But, nope. When I refused, he kicked me off the property… and here we are.” She waved a hand between them.

  To her shock, Will started pacing back and forth in front of her. “I’ve never heard of anything so… ridiculous.” He flung out an arm in his agitation.

  Barbaric. Arcane. Dictatorial. Controlling. Rusty’d thrown every one of those words at the situation already. “Tell me about it.”

  “He’ll let the ranch go to some stranger instead of his own daughter?”

  “Not a stranger. Apparently, he’s picked out a suitable person who knows the industry.” She air quoted those last words.

  “But you know the industry. That much is obvious, and I’ve only known you a little while.”

  And kissed her. Was about to become her boss.

  Rusty shrugged. “I appreciate your concern, Will. But I know my father. There’s no changing his mind.”

  He paced for another second before stopping directly in front of her, close enough she could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave. With effort, she held her ground.

  Will put his hands on her shoulders. “Y
ou have a job with High Hill. And don’t worry about my business with your dad. Okay?”

  Only he didn’t know Garrett Walker like she did. Still, something about the steady strength staring down at her settled the churning in her gut. “Okay,” she whispered.

  Silence and a heady awareness settled between them and she continued to gaze up at Will. They didn’t move. She should look away, say something to break the moment, but she couldn’t. Didn’t want to.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, before the moment ended, Rusty went up on tiptoe. She put her hand against his cheek and placed her lips over his in a sweet kiss, one that lingered as reluctance to pull away held her there.

  When she pulled away, his hands remained on her hips as he searched her eyes. “What was that for?” he asked.

  “You’re a good man, Williams Hill. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  His jaw worked under her hand, the one still resting against the warm skin of his cheek, his stubble rasping against her skin. “Don’t fit me for a halo yet,” he said.

  “No?” she smiled. “Why not?”

  “Because of this…”

  With strong hands at her hips, he drew her against the lean length of his body, lowering his lips to hers. Only his kiss wasn’t sweet, wasn’t anywhere close to sweet. He claimed, his tongue flicking the seam of her lips, demanding entrance, which she willingly gave.

  Nice men weren’t supposed to kiss like this, she vaguely thought as she surrendered her body to his power. Every part of her was tuned to him, to the brush of his hands against her waist, to every slide of his lips and tongue as they tangled with hers, feeding the heat blooming low inside her.

  Slowly, the tenor of his kisses changed, softening as Will slowed them down, then pulled back. Rusty kept her eyes closed, taking a second to catch her breath before she opened them to find him regarding her with a small frown marring his brow.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.

  Disappointment sank through her to settle in her toes, which she curled into the thick rug under her feet. “Why not?”

  He stepped back and ran an agitated hand through his hair. Hair she’d just had her hands speared through she realized, as memories of the silky texture registered.