by Jenna Byrnes
“Tomorrow.” Kyle blinked. “Not wasting much time, is he?”
“Nope.” An idea occurred to Dean and he smiled. “Maybe you can help me. We need to convince this guy that a dude ranch is not the way the Double-F should go. Want to assist with that?”
“Whatever I can do. I’m here for you, babe. You know that.”
Dean smiled. “I know, and I appreciate it. Why don’t we go to the house and grab some dinner? We can strategize about how to work on this consultant.”
“Dinner sounds good, but I had something different in mind afterward.” Kyle waggled his eyebrows.
“Probably not a good idea. Mrs Carson and Rebecca will still be there.” Dean winced.
Kyle waved him off. “Mrs Carson is as cool as they come. She wouldn’t care if she found out you’re bi. She might know already.”
“She’s great, but her housekeeping salary is paid by my father and she’s very loyal to him. If he asked questions, she wouldn’t lie. The cook is another story. Rebecca’s a god-fearing woman, and she wouldn’t like our relationship one bit.”
“Harrumph,” Kyle snorted. “And we care what the cook thinks—why?”
Dean shook his head. He couldn’t explain it and didn’t feel like trying. “Grab a couple more beers and let’s head up. I’m starved.”
“Me too.” Kyle’s gaze went down Dean’s body and back up again.
“For food,” Dean insisted.
Kyle smiled. “That too.” He snagged two more cold brews and followed Dean into the kitchen of the big ranch house.
“Evenin’ Rebecca,” Dean addressed the matronly cook.
“‘Bout time,” she fussed, pushing a lock of gray hair from her face. “Fed the grooms and sent them home over an hour ago.”
“Sorry.” He flashed her the smile that usually got him out of her doghouse. “Seeing to Domino took longer than I thought.” He set his bottle down and proceeded to wash his hands before she ordered him to.
“Is she okay?” Concern etched her face.
“Heck yeah, she’s fine. Just gave her a little extra TLC. You know.” He smiled again. Domino had been his mother’s mare and was a favorite around the ranch.
“Praise the Lord.” Apparently pacified, she turned to look at Kyle. “You going to wash up, or you going to stand there all night?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He did as she asked.
She’d balked at first, feeding the foreman with the family in the main house. Dean had convinced her since ‘the family’ was just him now, sharing meals with Kyle was time well spent discussing the ranch. She’d grudgingly agreed, and they had settled into a routine. She went home after the table had been cleared.
Mrs Carson, the family’s long-time housekeeper, usually left around the same time. Old enough to be his grandmother, she did very little of the actual ‘housekeeping’ but managed the house and staff with great care.
Dean knew Kyle was right about her. She wouldn’t care who he dated as long as he was happy. He just had to get over the hurdle of his father before that was possible. He also knew he was accurate when he said the woman would never lie to his father, even if it was covering up for him.
She entered the dining room halfway into their meal. “Have a good day?” she asked pleasantly.
“Nothing special. How were things here?”
“The same. I’ve had the blue guest room readied for Mr McCabe when he arrives tomorrow. Your father expects he’ll stay the better part of the week.”
“Thank you.” Dean washed down the tender pot roast with a swig of beer. “Mrs Carson, you don’t think making the Double-F into a dude ranch is the right thing, do you?”
Her eyebrows creased with concern. “I can’t say it’d be for the best, no. But I bow to your father in these matters.”
“Don’t we all.” Kyle forked another piece of roast from the platter.
Dean shot him a dirty look. “We need to make sure this McCabe fellow is aware of our feelings. There has to be another way.”
She shrugged. “I’ll do what I can. I hear tell he’s a ruthless cuss, and I worry that Mr Fortune already has his mind made up. I hope this man’s trip isn’t just for show.”
“Yes, I considered that.” Dean scratched his chin. “I guess time will tell. Thank you, Mrs Carson. Have a good evening.”
“You too.” She nodded and slipped out.
Kyle shoved a bite of potato in his mouth and chewed. “One down, one to go.”
“Stop that.” Dean pushed his plate away, hunger replaced by a nervous lump in the pit of his stomach.
“You won’t be saying that later, when I’m soaping you up in the shower then sucking you off.”
Dean’s cock twitched in his jeans. “You’re evil,” he muttered, then focused on finishing his beer.
“You love it.” Kyle reached over and squeezed his knee. “Admit it, you love me.”
“I love you sucking me off, sure. I might love you, if you’d find me some whiskey and pour me a drink.”
“Whiskey on top of beer? You intend to be hung-over when this McCabe arrives?”
“Not necessarily. But I plan to be feeling good by the time Rebecca leaves and we get down to business.”
Kyle ate the last bite on his plate then rose. He leaned over Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll make you feel good without the alcohol, no worries.”
Dean clasped his wrist. “I need it, just tonight, please? This guy holds my future in his hands. I’m trying not to think about it, but that’s easier said than done. Another drink or two will help immensely. You can take over from there.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.” Kyle placed one hand on his shoulder, then sauntered in toward the bar.
Dean followed, sticking his head in the kitchen first. “Excellent as always, Rebecca. Thanks very much. Let me know when you leave so I can lock up, please.”
“Of course.”
He made his way to the front room where Kyle stood behind the bar mixing his drink. The blond-headed stud was sexy as hell, and Dean was glad he’d talked his way into staying. More sex hadn’t been on the agenda tonight, but it was possibly just the thing to take his mind off his troubles.
Kyle glanced up at him and smiled, shooting an arrow straight to Dean’s groin.
And he’s just the man to do it.
Chapter Two
Kyle entered the house the next morning. The aroma of bacon wafted through the air and his stomach growled. Regardless of Rebecca’s religious ideas, most of which he didn’t agree with, the woman was one hell of a cook. He had to work out daily when he ate three squares of her home cooking. “Morning. That smells amazing.” He took his seat next to Dean.
The cook nodded at him and set a fresh stack of hotcakes down before returning to the kitchen.
“Hey,” Dean acknowledged. He swallowed a couple aspirin and washed them down with juice.
“Told you.” Kyle smiled as he fixed his plate.
“Worth it.” Dean gazed at him sideways, grinning. “Slept like a log.”
“And you’re giving credit to the booze? I’m hurt.”
“Cocksucker.” Dean chuckled.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Kyle batted his lashes.
Dean was laughing now, and didn’t stop as they chatted all through breakfast. The only thing that sobered him up was the ringing of the doorbell. He jumped up nervously.
“Take it easy.” Kyle rose next to him. “Whatever happens, this will all be okay. We’ll make it that way. You got that?”
He inhaled then let the breath out. He nodded at Kyle affectionately. “Thanks.”
Kyle sighed. He wanted to reach out and hug his lover. Smooth his hair and reassure him that he’d always be here. Of course that wasn’t possible, and that frustrated the hell out of him. He was head over heels for the guy and would do anything to comfort him. It drove him crazy that his lover wouldn’t—or couldn’t—admit he was bisexual to his father and be done with it. Their lives would be so much easier if
they didn’t have to sneak around.
Mrs Carson entered the room with someone in tow. “Mr Fortune, this is Ms McCabe from the O’Connell Agency. Apparently she’s the gentleman we’ve been expecting.”
Dean and Kyle both blinked. The curvy brunette with shoulder-length hair was not at all what they had prepared for. Kyle stood slack-jawed. Fortunately, his boss was quicker-thinking.
He stepped forward and extended a hand. “Miz McCabe, I’m Dean Fortune. Pleasure to meet you.”
She eyed him for a moment before shaking, then pulled her hand back quickly. “Mr Fortune.”
“Dean, please.” He motioned behind him. “This is my ranch foreman, Kyle Reese.”
He didn’t move to offer his hand and she didn’t seem to mind. She nodded at him without much interest and turned back to Dean. “Your father tells me the ranch is floundering. He’d like some options to make it more profitable.”
“Is that what he told you?” Dean folded his arms across his chest. “Options, plural? Or has he already decided the course of action?”
She appeared nonplussed. “Not that I’m aware of. I was told to come out here and get the lay of the land, so to speak. Get a feel for how things run. See what works and what doesn’t. He’ll join us here in one week to receive my report.”
“One week.” Dean nodded thoughtfully. “All right, then. Mrs Carson will show you to your room. Please get settled. If you’d like to change or anything, feel free.”
Kyle eyed her dark blue city-jeans and expensive boots. He wondered if she had anything less Versace to ‘change’ into. One trip through the stables, even though they were neat and well-tended, would have her rethinking her expensive clothing.
“I’m fine.” She glanced around the room briefly.
“Have you eaten breakfast? Rebecca can whip you up something, if you’re hungry. Hotcakes, bacon, sausage, whatever you prefer.”
“No thank you!” Her mortified expression was priceless.
“Grapefruit? Protein shake?” Kyle couldn’t resist offering.
She gazed at him like she would a speck of dirt on her three-hundred dollar boots. “No. Thank. You.”
Mrs Carson stepped behind her. “Your luggage has been taken to your room. If you please, I’ll show you there now.”
“I’d appreciate that.” She turned and followed the housekeeper out.
Kyle moved closer to Dean, whistling low. “What the in devil have we gotten into?”
Dean glanced at him, a wide grin spreading across his face. “This might just be easier than I thought.”
* * * *
Miranda McCabe breathed a sigh of relief when the housekeeper closed the door behind her. She sank to the edge of the queen-sized bed in the shades-of-blue decorated room and tried to calm her raging emotions. This is not what I expected.
When she’d met the elder Mr Fortune in her office he’d seemed straightforward, a tough businessman, concerned that the son he’d allowed to manage the ranch wasn’t up to the task. He’d made Dean out to be quite a greenhorn, a wannabe race car driver turned rancher, who really didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. Her first impression of Dean Fortune belied that description completely. Of course the father hadn’t mentioned that his son was hot as hell, with smoky brown eyes and a smoldering, fit body to match.
And the ranch foreman? Miranda rubbed her temples. She suspected he was the one to watch out for. Cocky, smarmy, another sexy-as-hell man, with disheveled blond hair and a physique that was undoubtedly earned by hours of hard work. Her panties dampened as she thought of anything hard concerning the hunky men. For a moment, she wondered how fast she could come up with an excuse to leave and get the hell out of Dodge.
No. I can do this. It was only one week. She’d welcomed the assignment at first, a chance to get out of L.A. for a while. She’d recently broken things off with a boyfriend, who wanted more than she was prepared to give. He had a tough time taking ‘no’ for an answer. She’d blocked his phone number, thinking he’d get the message she meant business when she was nowhere to be found. Hopefully, she’d told him to ‘fuck off’ for the last time.
I will do this. She stood and opened her two suitcases, unpacking before sticking them in the large closet. She checked her reflection in the mirror, dragging the hair on the left side of her face over the scar on her temple and cheek. A ponytail would be appropriate on the ranch, but she hadn’t pulled her hair back since the accident.
She left the bedroom and peeked in doorways as she wandered down the hall. Her bathroom was next door, then another apparently unused room—this one decorated in shades of yellow. The room at the end of the hall was larger, with a king-sized bed. The South-western motif was masculine and she could tell right away this was the son’s room. He was neat as a pin, or the housekeeper wanted her to think so.
She made her way back to the great room where the two men were leaning against the back of a long white sofa, talking quietly.
“I hope your room is satisfactory,” the son spoke up.
“It’s lovely. The whole house is amazing.”
“Sure is.” The foreman gazed at her. “You can see why we’d like to keep it that way.”
What’s that supposed to mean? She cleared her throat. “I’ll be tidy, I assure you.”
The son stepped forward. “That’s not what he meant. We want you to make yourself at home, of course. Kyle was just referring to the fact that we’re pretty comfortable with things the way they are. Neither of us is keen to change what we think is working rather well.”
“If it ain’t broke…” Kyle raised his brows.
She hardened her gaze at the blond hunk. “Apparently something is broken, or I wouldn’t be here, would I?” Turning her attention to the son, she started, “Mr Fortune, I—”
He raised a finger.
She paused.
His gaze seared her. “I told you, it’s Dean. Why don’t you let me give you a tour of the house, then we’ll meet up with Kyle outside for a trip through the stables?”
She liked the idea of losing the foreman. One of these guys alone was intimidating enough. Together, they were almost too much to bear. She nodded. “Good idea.”
Dean turned to Kyle. “We’ll catch up with you later. Okay?”
Kyle seemed to think about it before answering.
Miranda watched the looks that passed between them, wondering what they were all about. Perhaps the ranch has some secrets they don’t want revealed?
“Okay?” Dean repeated, softer this time.
“Sure,” Kyle finally said. “See you later.” He cast a quick glance at Miranda before walking out.
She turned to Dean. “Who’s the boss here, Mr Fortune? Your foreman should do what you ask, when you ask it. He shouldn’t pout and sulk when he doesn’t get his way.”
Dean stepped so close she could feel his warm breath on her face. “If you think that was pouting and sulking, then you don’t know Kyle. He can be a bigger pain in the ass than that. He also understands this ranch better than anyone I know, so I give him quite a bit of leeway to speak his mind.” He licked his lips. “While we’re on the subject of being naughty, I’ve asked you repeatedly to call me Dean. Mr Fortune is my father, and if you haven’t noticed yet, I’m not him. I’m nothing like him, actually.” He smiled pleasantly. “Now, how about that tour?”
She was mortified to feel her nipples harden at his words. Something about the way he spoke had her imagining herself bound with scarves to his bedposts as he doled out punishment to a naughty girl. “I, uh…sure. Thank you.” She purposely hadn’t called him by his first name. She needed to keep this on a purely professional basis.
He eyed her with amusement. “Thank you, who?”
Miranda swallowed. “Dean.”
He smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your first name.”
She could barely speak. “Miranda.” The word came out like a frog’s throaty croak.
He smiled again. “That’s really p
retty. Okay, Miranda, we’ll start right here. This part of the ranch was the original home built by my great-grandfather in the early nineteen-hundreds. Frank Fortune started the Double-F-Ranch as a cattle operation. Somewhere around nineteen-fifty my grandfather turned it into a horse ranch. My father was the one who honed in on the market for Appaloosas. Except for the occasional foundling or stray, we only have the one breed here now.”
“I’ve seen pictures of them. They’re beautiful animals.”
“Pictures?” Dean chuckled. “Have you ever seen a real horse?”
She started to tell him that she’d been a member of the California Junior Rodeo Association for ten years and had won Best All Around Champion for three of those years. In retrospect, she decided to hold that piece of information back. “Once or twice.”
“Oh, this’ll be fun.” He opened a door and motioned for her to go ahead.
He thinks I’m a total ditz. She offered a giddy smile and went out, deciding she might as well act like what he was expecting. He’s right. This could be fun.
Dean was in a serious case of lust. He hadn’t felt this way since the first time Kyle walked on to the Double-F-Ranch. He knew that day he’d bed the man sooner or later. He had the same thoughts about Miranda, now.
She was gorgeous, with a heart-shaped face and emerald-green eyes. A small beauty mark graced her upper lip. Thick brown hair cascaded to her shoulders. Her breasts were perfectly rounded globes with tight nipples occasionally peeking through her crisp striped blouse. She sported a classic hourglass figure, trim waist over wider hips. Just looking at her had his cock firming nicely. I want to lick that birthmark. Licking was just the beginning of what he wanted to do to those breasts.
He’d always been a breast man. Kyle, who professed no interest in the opposite sex whatsoever, could never get his attraction.
Kyle.
His lover wouldn’t be happy about this new development. Perhaps he already sensed what Dean was feeling. They’d have to talk about it. He’d never do anything to hurt Kyle, but Miranda was intriguing and he owed it to himself to investigate her further.