The Rancher's Bargain

by Joanne Rock

  “I like it. Who goes first?” She didn’t ask where they were going to dinner, although she was a little curious. It had been a long time since she’d been on a date.

  And there was no denying it now that the shopping outing had turned to dinner—this was a date.

  “Lydia, you wound me. Ladies first, of course.”

  “Sorry.” She grinned as she shifted in her seat to see him better. “My usual male companions are in the one-to ten-year-old demographic, and they don’t always have the manners you do. But if I’m going first, I want to know what you do for fun.”

  “For fun?”

  “Yes. I’ve seen you work on the ranch and at the club. But even a busy man like you needs to unwind. And I know you don’t take in a movie in the home theater since you’ve only used that for work.”

  He took his time thinking. “I used to do saddle bronc riding,” he said finally. “I quit once I took on full responsibilities as the head of Double H, but I always enjoyed it.”

  There was a wistfulness in his voice that made her wonder how long it had been since responsibilities had consumed all his time. She wanted to learn so much more about him.

  “You deserve a new hobby,” she settled for saying instead.

  “Inspire me, then. What do you do for fun?” He turned her question back on her as they drove under streetlights draped with wreaths and holiday lights.

  “I’m a nanny. I play all the time.”

  “If you needed to unwind, I guarantee you peekaboo isn’t your first choice for entertainment.”

  She smiled. “Point taken. I like hiking. I don’t get to go often anymore, but growing up I liked taking my siblings onto the trails in the Ozarks.”

  “Sounds nice. Although you have to admit, you might need to update your hobbies, too, if your best memories of hiking are from when you were growing up.” He turned off the main road and it took her a moment to see the sign for The Bellamy.

  “We can’t have dinner here.” She’d never been to the five-star resort inspired by George Vanderbilt’s iconic French Renaissance chateau in North Carolina, but she’d seen photos and knew the place epitomized luxury.

  “Of course we can. You like to visit the farmers market on Saturdays at the Courtyard Shops, right?”

  She’d told him as much during their shopping outing today.

  “Yes. And the farmers market is more my speed for a meal.” Even at night, she could see the gorgeous, castle-like building looming ahead and all lit up. The stone turrets had huge holiday wreaths adorned with red bows, while white lights illuminated a massive poinsettia tree out front. So romantic. Anticipation heated through her.

  “The Bellamy has a great farm-to-table restaurant, the Glass House. You’ll love it.” He was already pulling up to the valet stand.

  “I’m not sure I’m dressed appropriately,” she told him before he could lower the window.

  “It’s not overly glitzy, I promise.” With the car in Park, he took her hand in his, his clasp firm and gentle all at once. “The emphasis is on great food, not decor. And you look beautiful.”

  She warmed at his words. She’d never been the glamorous type, but she appreciated that he saw beyond the superficial, that he saw her.

  And wanted her.

  “In that case, thank you,” she said, her heart beating faster. “And based on our first round of questions, it seems like we owe it to ourselves to have some fun, don’t we?”

  “I’m on a mission tonight.” He lifted her hand in his, kissing the back of it. “We’re going to unwind and have fun.”

  Her skin tingled where his lips had touched her, leaving her breathless. For a moment, she forgot all about dinner, her brain stuck on the feel of his mouth on her. She’d signed on for this. Dinner. Getting to know him. A date.

  And if a little shiver of nerves scuttled through her to think about what that meant—getting into a relationship with her boss—she chose to ignore it. She had worked hard. Like James, she’d taken on a lot of responsibilities at a young age. She’d always been the one to deny herself what she wanted to help out her family, while her mother and her sister certainly never thought twice about indulging themselves. Why couldn’t she have a chance to do something a little wild? A little reckless?

  If tonight presented her with a chance to simply enjoy herself on the arm of a handsome man intent on charming her, Lydia wasn’t going to refuse.

  In fact, given how much she wanted him, she might be the one to suggest they go for dessert after all.

  Eight

  “This is amazing.” Lydia closed her eyes after a bite of the wood-roasted mushrooms midway through their dinner, clearly savoring the experience.

  James hadn’t eaten at the Glass House before, but he had to admit he was impressed, too. The farm-to-table restaurant had a tasting menu and he’d talked her into trying it with him so they could see what they liked best. So far, there hadn’t been a bad dish in the lot, each new plate boasting locally farmed fruits and vegetables, plus cheeses made on-site and wines from an extensive cellar. Lydia professed a special love of the mushroom dish, though, even after their waiter had delivered tasting plates of smoked trout, grilled guinea hen and roasted duck.

  They sat at a quiet table in the back that overlooked The Bellamy grounds, including an ornamental garden decorated with white lights for the holidays. Inside, a pianist played in the front of the restaurant, the sound pleasantly dulled for conversing thanks to the live plants and potted trees that served as the main decor. Even inside, the Glass House was full of greenery.

  “It’s good to see you enjoying yourself since we now know that we both work too hard.” He’d been surprised to realize how long it had been since he’d taken any time for fun when she’d asked him about it earlier.

  Lydia sipped her wine, a pinot noir the sommelier had paired for this course.

  “I’m very fulfilled by my work,” she said as she replaced her glass on the table near a tray full of white votive candles and interspersed with white poinsettia blooms. “So I’m not sure that I necessarily devote too much time to it. But I could probably balance the job with more fun outlets.”

  “And yet your job with the child care facility will be different from what you’ve been doing, right?” he asked, liking the way she’d let her guard down tonight. “Why the change?”

  “I thought it would be rewarding to oversee more children. To potentially touch more kids’ lives than I could as a nanny.” She pushed back from the table slightly, crossing her legs in a way that had her calf brush against his for a moment.

  Her gaze darted to his, awareness from that touch pinging back and forth between them. Heat rising from even that brief contact. Was she finding it as tough to refrain from more as him? That kiss they’d shared was never far from his mind.

  “Yet you’ve been taking care of kids your whole life. Or so it seemed to me when I read your mother’s blog.”

  That flash of heat he’d seen in her eyes faded a bit, and he partially regretted bringing it up. But hadn’t they said they were going to get to know each other?

  “The House Rules empire is built on a whitewashed version of my family. The truth bears little resemblance to the fiction she posts online.” She stopped speaking when their waiter neared to clear the plates from the meal and bring them the next round of the tasting menu, a selection of desserts.

  The restaurant had grown more crowded since they’d started their meal, the muffled conversations of other diners rising though their corner of the room remained private.

  Once the waiter left, Lydia dipped her spoon in the ginger ice cream while James wondered how to get their conversation back on track. He wanted Lydia first and foremost. But until she was ready for things to move forward between them, he would at least make sure he understood her more. Find out what made her tick.

  “So you were
n’t involved with raising your siblings?” he asked, wondering how she could have faked all that knowledge she’d seemed to have in the videos online where she gave mini-lessons to parents on making homemade baby food or how to swaddle an infant.

  “I was very involved,” she clarified while he scooped some of the strawberry sorbet onto his plate. “But we weren’t the carefree family my mother tried to pretend when she wrote blogs about our outings to the mountains or a day at the lake. While she was making daisy chain crowns with one kid for a good photo op, I was chasing six others to keep them from drowning or falling off a cliff.”

  He waited a beat to see if there was a follow-up to that story. An indication that she’d been exaggerating. But she simply swirled her spoon through the ice cream and took another bite.

  “Didn’t anyone else from your mother’s business notice? Or get involved to help?”

  “For years, there was no one else in the business. It wasn’t until my late teens that the YouTube videos took off and started driving traffic to her blog, expanding her reach to what it is today.” She set aside her spoon and leaned back in her seat while the pianist switched to a holiday tune on the far side of the restaurant.

  Lydia’s hazel eyes met his, and she swept a lock of her light brown hair away from her face. She wore a long skirt and a creamy-colored sweater belted at her waist, the shawl collar parting enough to show a hint of the pink tank she wore beneath it. A long gold necklace full of tiny charms nestled at the V of the sweater’s opening, her initial glinting in tiny amber-colored stones on one of the pendants that dangled between her breasts.

  “In that case, your mother owes a great deal to you for her success.” He nudged a plate of green apple cobbler toward her to tempt her. “Not just for watching your siblings while she worked, but also for creating all those videos.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Please don’t tell me you watched any of my videos. I sound like the world’s most pompous seventeen-year-old.”

  “I’m not going to lie. I was too curious about how to swaddle a baby to pass that one up. But I thought you sounded like a very knowledgeable young lady.”

  Shaking her head, she gave a wry laugh. “I made those videos after I argued with my mother. I told her she was doing her visitors a disservice by emphasizing child-centered learning to the point where her kids were no longer being parented. I thought she should provide more practical advice.”

  “So she let you do the work for her, and you made the videos.” From what he’d seen when he visited the blog, Lydia’s videos were the biggest draw.

  “It was her way of putting my experience in my own hands,” she said drily. “She would say that she gave me all the resources I needed to have a meaningful childhood. And she did give me a percentage of the advertising dollars that those videos made. But I always resented not being able to attend college full-time because I was scared to leave the younger kids unattended.”

  How different their childhood years had been. Lydia had been raised by a woman whom many people looked up to as a role model for motherhood, surrounded by siblings. James and his brother had been raised by nannies once their mother died, their father too involved with the ranch to spend time with his kids.

  “And yet you went into a profession centered on children. You must look forward to having a family of your own one day.”

  The observation was automatic, and maybe too personal. But he was curious.

  “One day,” she acknowledged, a hint of wariness in her expression.

  He wanted to know more about her, to ask more about her family, but she leaned closer to him then, her fingers sliding onto his wrist where his hand rested on the table. The contact robbed him of whatever he’d been about to say while her light fragrance teased him, stirring a different hunger.

  “You’re getting way ahead of me on the questions,” she announced, her hair sliding forward as she tipped her forehead closer to his. “It must be my turn by now.”

  He wanted to kiss her. Would have kissed her if they were alone. Maybe it was just as well they’d spent the day together out in public. Because without Teddy around, he couldn’t help but see Lydia as a desirable woman and not as his nephew’s nanny.

  “By all means.” His voice lowered since she was so close to him. “Ask me anything.”

  She stared back at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the candlelight’s glow. He lifted his free hand to smooth her silky hair away from her face so he could see her better. Or maybe he simply needed to touch her in some way.

  When he tucked the strands behind her ear, he skimmed his fingertips down the side of her neck. Felt the wild race of her pulse just beneath her ear. Once they were alone, he promised himself he would kiss her right there, for a long, lingering taste.

  Her eyelids fluttered even now, as if she could feel the burning imprint of his lips on her skin.

  “I hope you mean that.” She eased back a bit, nibbling on her lower lip as her hand slid away from his wrist. “Because I’ve been wondering where things stand with Teddy’s grandparents. You said you’d reached out to them. Have they expressed an interest in taking him in?”

  The question was a far cry from what he’d expected. But he’d been honest about wanting to know more about her. So he needed to let her understand him better, too. He’d made a mistake with his wife not to give her a clearer idea of what life would be like on the Double H. It would have benefited them both to discuss their expectations.

  “I get the impression they’re still grieving deeply for their daughter.” He hadn’t wanted to push them, but their lack of response the first time had made him send a follow-up letter. “They were still struggling with the loss, even though from what Parker told me, they were unhappy with her for marrying him in the first place and hadn’t spoken to their daughter after the wedding.”

  Lydia shook her head, her expression showing dismay while the waiter cleared plates and refreshed their water.

  “James, isn’t that all the more reason for you to raise Teddy instead of them? You can’t let that sweet baby go to a cold and unforgiving household who will have nothing positive to say about Teddy’s father.”

  He didn’t miss the hint of accusation in her voice. In her eyes.

  “Parker always thought they’d come around.” James had trusted his brother’s judgment of his in-laws. “They didn’t necessarily dislike Parker, but they had planned for their daughter to marry the rancher with land neighboring theirs. Her marriage to my brother caused them to lose some of their acreage to the neighbor.”

  James hadn’t remembered all the details since he’d been knee-deep in expanding the Double H at the time and marrying Raelynn. His focus had been on his own bride.

  “That hardly seems like grounds for not speaking to your own daughter.” Lydia toyed with the petal of one of the white poinsettias on the table, her pink manicured fingernail tracing the outline. “What if they cut Teddy off that way? Decide to stop speaking to him?”

  James reached over to squeeze her hand, needing to reassure her. “I promise I would never let my nephew go into a home unless I was certain he would be raised with love.”

  He owed Parker that, and more.

  Her eyes searched his. And whatever she saw there must have eased her concerns somewhat because some of the tension slid from her shoulders.

  “Thank you.” She nodded. Accepting. “Can I ask one more thing? Since you were ahead of me in the question game?”

  “Is this one going to be as dicey as the last one?” He signed the tab the waiter had left on the table, and then sat back, wanting Lydia to feel comfortable talking to him.

  He wasn’t going to reach the level of intimacy he craved with her if she couldn’t speak freely to him. And he wanted her more with each passing minute.

  “Possibly.” She recrossed her legs, her calf nudging his for a second time. “Can I still as
k?”

  Awareness flared from the contact. Hotter this time. His thoughts about what he wanted from this night threatened to derail his focus.

  “Of course.” He couldn’t stop himself from threading his fingers through hers.

  She stared at him in the candlelight, the loveliest woman he could imagine. Not just because of her looks, but because of her giving nature. Her warm heart. He wanted to lose himself in all that beautiful inner radiance.

  But before she could ask him her next question, a feminine voice trilled from behind them.

  “James Harris, you gorgeous man! Where’ve you been hiding?”

  He recognized the voice of Cady Lawson, an outrageous flirt and an old friend. He knew exactly when Lydia spotted her because her luscious lips turned into a quick frown before an unreadable mask settled over her expression. She tugged her hand from his. Folded her arms across her chest.

  Standing to introduce the women, James wondered how fast he could send Cady on her way so he could get this night back on track.

  * * *

  If Lydia had been the jealous type, she guessed the arrival of James’s lady friend could have ruffled her feathers. Dressed in sleek white leather pants and a designer white silk blouse, the woman was beautiful enough to have walked out of the pages of a magazine. Glossy dark curls spilled over her shoulders, her natural beauty not needing any adornment as she flung her arms around James.

  But as Lydia listened to James’s introduction to Cady Lawson, a friend from his college days, Lydia could think only how grateful she was for the woman’s timing. Lydia had been about to quiz James about the fact that he’d married a woman who hadn’t wanted children—a significant detail she’d caught in that first conversation she’d had with him about his ex. But with all the heated awareness between them, and his tempting touches, she’d found herself wanting to back off a question that was probably—at this stage of their relationship—none of her business.