Steal Me (Longshadows Book 1)

by Natalia Banks

  “I’m willing to pay four point six million to buy this property.” It’s a generous offer. The last estimate for the property was around two and a half million. But I always bid up. I make back my losses, and I’d rather buy high.

  It’s personal incentive to pour my heart and soul into the place. The more I spend, the more ways I find to make that money back, and then some. I’ll bring in paychecks for the rest of my damn life, and the rest of Olivia’s, too.

  To my surprise, she snorts. I study her as she looks away, her pretty eyes scanning the horizon before coming back to me.

  “Wait,” she says, squaring her hips and straightening up. “You’re serious?”

  I’m nothing if not serious. But how to impart that to this girl who seems like life is all just a joke? Before my eyes, she closes up. Her shoulders square and her features tighten.

  “Not for sale.” She’s final, and I move to block her as she tries to step past me. She stops, glaring at me as if to silently ask how dare I stop her from leaving.

  “Ten million,” I counter, deadpan.

  She rolls her eyes like a child and looks away from me. I sense she’s gathering her wits, and know I’ve got this in the bag. I’ve found her breaking point. I admit, she’s breaking faster than I expected, based on her age and the precious little I know about her.

  Those cat-like eyes come back to me. “I’m not selling,” she says, slowly, enunciating like she’s speaking to someone who doesn’t understand.

  Again, I find myself surprised. This is the second time I’ve misjudged her, and that’s not something that happens to me. Perhaps all the issues lately are throwing me off my game. Maybe I really am that screw up my dad constantly whispers I am in the back of my mind.

  “Twenty million.”

  Her eyes widen, but I sense anger there, not surprise. She steps in close and I become aware of how tiny she is. I’m well over six feet tall, pushing six foot four inches, but she’s barely over five feet, I’m sure. I’d guess her to be five foot two inches, five four at most.

  “I said,” she says, slowly again her eyes darting back and for the between mine, “My property is not for sale.” She lowers her voice like she’s about to impart a secret. “Now get the hell off my porch.”

  With her this close, I notice what seems like pale before is worse than first impression gave. She looks ill. Her frame is tiny, she’s thin, though she’s clearly strong. But I know something isn’t quite right.

  So I file the information away. I’ll use it. Later.

  Still, she’s standing so close I can smell the sweet scent of her, and I want to grab her and pull her into my arms. I’ve clearly lost my mind.

  Chapter 4

  Emma

  Who the hell is this guy and who does he think he is?

  I stare him down, hating everything about him. He’s good-looking to a fault. His ice-blue eyes are framed by lashes so dark he looks like he’s wearing eyeliner. His skin seems like it’s fresh shaven, but there’s still a hint of a shadow. His hair is short, dark, and neat.

  He’s in a suit that’s perfectly tailored, and under it he wears a burgundy button down shirt and a narrow black tie.

  If I believed in the devil, I’d be very certain this man was him.

  Still, the look on his face when I told him no left me with a sense of satisfaction. I have a feeling he doesn’t hear that very often. Never mind that he’s offering me enough money to retire and never have to worry about working another bone-crushingly painful day again in my life.

  But now he’s still standing here, staring at me like he’s sizing me up.

  I cross my arms as my body reacts to him. I swear it’s because he’s the only guy I’ve seen in the flesh in a long time. My nipples bud up tight under the thin – though restrictive – layer of my bra. His eyes follow the motion of my arms and trace the curve of my breasts and I sense he’s struggling with the same sensations I am.

  It’s odd, seeing his responses mirroring my own.

  Especially since everything about him bothers me. He reminds me of Charlie. Good old Charlie tried to sweet talk me out of my virginity senior year. But Charlie didn’t get in my pants that night – or any other night, for that matter – and this man, whoever he is, isn’t going to sweet talk me out of my pants or my ranch.

  Then again, Charlie didn’t make me feel all warm like this. Charlie didn’t cause goose bumps to march down my arms. Charlie couldn’t make me shiver with one intense, serious glance.

  No, that honor goes to the man still standing silent before me.

  Suddenly, he thrusts his hand toward me, as if in a show of friendliness. “Mr. Knight. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, that thousand kilowatt smile makes me wonder who got rich off his dental care and whiting regimen. He could be a poster child of any respectable dental office, which only adds to my distrust of him.

  “You should have led with that,” I tell him, and his eyebrows lift a fraction of an inch. “I have work to do.” I want to push past him but I’m scared to touch him. If his mere proximity is having this kind of reaction on me, what would contact do?

  And the few seconds it’ll take me to slip into my boots is a few extra seconds too long to be close enough to touch him.

  I wonder, though, why he’s looking at me like he’s starving. Surely a guy like this has women begging him to take them to bed. Why would he look at me – someone who clearly shows zero interest – like he’s impossibly desperate?

  “Do I need to call the police, Mr. Knight?” I ask, trying to prod him off my porch. I have work to do. And while the thought of how much money he offered is stuck in the front of my mind, I still don’t want to really think about it.

  I don’t like the man, and I’m sure as hell not going to give him my ranch so he can make apartment buildings or whatever he’s thinking.

  Still… that much money… I could retire. I could move into the city. Buy a house, open a bank account and put property taxes into it so I never have to worry about it again. I could live a good life and never work again.

  I could meet someone. Get married. Start a family and have a life.

  “Of course not, Miss…?” he pushes.

  “You know my name, Mr. Knight.” I have no time for his mind games. He wants power? Well, he can screw himself. “Please leave.” My tone has slipped somewhere between cold fury and a not so subtle warning.

  He seems to finally get the hint. “Have a good day, Miss Astor,” he says before turning to leave. He halts on the ground and turns to face me once more, and my heart sinks to my toes.

  “It’s a generous offer,” he says, as if this is the right time to offer a feeble rebuttal to my refusal.

  I nod, conceding. “It would be, if I were interested in selling,” I say, wanting him to know that I am still not interested and not to take my words in that context. “But I am not. Good day.” I skip down the two steps and step into my boots. With them on my feet, I head toward the barn as he heads toward his truck.

  He stops again, halfway to his shiny truck that seems so out of place here. “Thank you for your time,” he says, and I feel like he’s stalling.

  And it feels less like a thank you and more like a fuck you.

  So I give him a smile and wave that’s way more cheerful than I feel.

  But I don’t breathe easily until I hear the engine roar to life and hear him turning around. I expected him to be petty, to spray rocks and dirt everywhere and spin out his tires, but he’s careful. Though I’m not surprised. I’m certain I haven’t seen the last of the smooth talking, pretty boy Mr. Knight.

  With a decided air of unease, I head toward the barn. As I open the double doors, I begin to speak to all the heads inquisitively staring at me over stalls. “You wouldn’t believe where I was,” I say, looking toward Jenny’s stall.

  Unable to see her, I rush over, pulling my cell phone from my pocket. Throwing open the stall door, I dial Kyle’s office.

  Jenny, on her side, her
belly tightening every few moments, looks at me and tosses her head, looking a bit weak.

  “Hey, it’s Emma Astor,” I say to the secretary. “I’ve got a mare in labor, would Kyle be able to head over?”

  “I’ll see if he can. Good luck, Em.” The girl hangs up and I put my phone in my pocket. Grabbing the foaling gloves, I pull them on and get behind her. With a quick check that’s all habit, I make sure the foal isn’t breech and sigh in relief.

  Patting her hindquarters, I talk to her in a calm tone of voice. “Soon you’ll feel several hundred pounds lighter,” I joke. Her ears swivel, and I see her belly harden and tense, and know there’s not much time before there’ll be a slick, wobbly little foal standing her beside her.

  I’ve always loved watching mares throw foals. And I already have plans for this little one. If he’s a colt, he’ll be a new stud. If it’s a mare, she’ll be sold off at a hefty price once she’s weaned and ready to be on her own.

  It’s sad to bring them into the world and watch them leave, but that’s the way it is.

  Still, I always cross my fingers and hope for colts.

  And as I sit back, ready for a new addition, I realize the rough start to the day isn’t going to ruin the beauty of it all.

  Chapter 5

  Kieran

  I’ve never met a woman as stubborn as that Astor woman. Everything about her grates on me. Still, as obnoxious as she is, I can’t stop thinking about how it would have felt to grab her and press her against the wooden siding of her house.

  I’ve anger fucked plenty of women, but none of them have been angry in return.

  Generally, they whimper and play at never having felt this way before. But I imagine the Astor woman would meet my anger with her own and we’d set the world ablaze.

  I groan as my cock pulses. Jesus, I must be off my rocker, being so turned on by a woman that clearly hated me.

  She’d told me no, and judging by the look in her eyes, she’d gotten off on it.

  But it was a small matter. Life has taught me to have back up plans. And I’ve got a good one. One that even that cold-hearted bitch can’t destroy. I’ll have her ranch, she just doesn’t know it yet.

  On the way home, my phone rings and I answer it. Olivia’s sweet voice fills the truck cab. “Daddy!” She says, and I can’t help but smile at the joy in her voice. She never fails to brighten my life. Even failure stings a little less as her love shines in her words.

  “Hey Vi. Are you being good?” I ask. The school had told me she would have to take a few days suspension since she’d started a fist fight between two boys. Sandra, while angry, was there to watch her.

  “Of course.” Olivia’s voice is all sweet innocence. “Are you mad at me, daddy?” She asks, her tone decidedly sad.

  I think carefully before responding. “I’m not mad. But I am disappointed.” I’m not going to lie to her. “I’m also sorry I was mean this morning,” I tell her, needing to reiterate that point.

  “It’s okay. I know you were upset because someone else was mean.” She sounds thoughtful, and I find myself surprised once more to how perceptive she is. Right now I’m sure she’s applying this knowledge of how the mind works to various situations in life she can’t explain.

  “I’m going to try to be better about things like that,” I tell her, “and I need you to try to be better too, okay?”

  “Will it be hard?” she asks, and I smile.

  “All the best things in life are hard, right?”

  She sounds dubious at best. “Not math. Math is hard and I hate it. Are you coming home now?”

  I try not to laugh at her dislike of math. I don’t want to encourage such thoughts, but it’s painfully cute. “I am on my way home. Did you decide what you want to do?”

  “What are my options?” she asks, sounding so adult my heart aches. She’s growing up so fast. Sure, she’s so obviously a child, but some of the things she does and says remind me that she’s getting older day by day, and it’s heartbreaking.

  “Well, you asked if you could take riding lessons. Are you still interested?” I ask, holding my breath. I needn’t have worried. She squeals into the phone and I can’t help the little laugh that escapes my lips.

  “You mean it?” she asks, “Even though I got in trouble?”

  I tiptoe around this landmine. “I mean it. But remember, you told me you’d be better. I’m trusting you.”

  “Okay, daddy,” she says, suddenly calm and serious. “Can I call?”

  “Wait until I get home, okay?” I say, wanting to hear the Astor woman’s voice again. Startled by the turn in my thoughts, I tell Olivia that I’m going to get off the phone, but I’ll see her soon.

  When I get home, I head right in and come face to face with Sandra. She ducks her head and sidles off, clearly still pissed at our stand off last night. But Olivia doesn’t give me a chance to do anything else. She grabs my hand and leads me into the dining room.

  My cell rings and I pull it from my pocket. Connor again. Touching the red button, I smile at Olivia. “Go ahead,” I tell her, and she lights up and picks up the phone. She holds her breath while dialing, and I’m tempted to join her.

  “Hello, River Acres Ranch. Emma Astor speaking.”

  My body reacts to her voice, and I feel my blood pressure climb.

  “Hi! I’m Olivia. I need to schedule riding lessons.” Olivia gives me a thumbs up.

  I smile and return the gesture. On the other end of the line, the hesitation worries me.

  “Well hello, Olivia,” Emma says. “Generally I have parents make the appointments.”

  “It’s okay,” Olivia says, “Daddy’s right here.”

  “I am,” I say, hoping the distance will warp my voice enough that Emma doesn’t recognize it.

  “Good!” Emma says, “When would you like to start lessons, Olivia?”

  “Tonight?” Olivia says, sounding hopeful.

  On the other end, Emma laughs, but it’s a kind sound. “I like your spirit, Olivia!” she says, “But we had a colt born today. So the soonest I could start is the day after tomorrow.”

  “Deal,” Olivia says, and I smile back at her. That little grin of hers is infectious. “What time?” she asks, ever the responsible little girl I raised.

  “How does four p.m. sound?”” Emma sounds like she’s falling head over heels already, and I breathe a sigh of relief. This plan worked. I worried she’d be booked, busy, unable or unwilling to teach Olivia. Lessons are such a tiny part of her ranch, I figured she’d be fully booked through the new year.

  Thank the lord for little blessings, I guess.

  “Good,” Olivia says, before asking a nervous question. “Can I see the baby horse when I come out?”

  “Of course!” Emma sounds thrilled. “I look forward to meeting you in person, Olivia,” she says, and Olivia echoes the sentiment.

  “Bye!” She says, and they hang up.

  Olivia launches herself into my arms the second the phone is hung up and I wrap my arms around her shoulders. “Thank you,” she says, pressing her forehead to mine.

  I close my right hand in a fist and double tap my chest. “Still beating,” I tell her. Her smile is instant. She follows suit.

  “Still beating,” she whispers.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “Want to order pizza?” I ask, and she nods.

  “Can I order it?” she asks, and I shrug.

  “You don’t even need me, jeez,” I tease, but her eyes widen.

  “That’s not funny,” she says, sunny mood gone in an instant.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, pulling her close and pressing my lips to her forehead. “You’re just growing into an independent young lady.”

  “I’ll need you forever,” she whispers, and I squeeze my eyes closed.

  Deep in the back of my mind I hear my father whispering that I’m failing her.

  Chapter 6

  Emma

  I get off th
e phone with the little girl, my heart dancing. I look over at Jenny and her new little colt. With trembling fingers, I dial Kyle’s office. They’re quick to answer.

  “Yeah,” I say, after exchanging pleasantries. “She gave me a healthy colt, so no rush.” My mind glazes over as I think about the little girl I’d just talked to and her excitement. Lessons are something I decided to do, in hopes of fostering the same love of horses my father nurtured in me in the next generation of children.

  And who knows? Maybe the girl’s daddy is a cute guy who’d be interested in a woman like me. Wouldn’t that be a great way to meet a handsome bachelor?

  Of course, I’m not totally sure he’s a bachelor, but something in the way the girl pointedly said she’d bring her daddy leaves little doubt in my mind that mom is either not in the picture or is not too very active in the girl’s life. Which is heartbreaking. I’ve heard of single dads, but I’ve never actually met a guy who is the full time caretaker of a child.

  Then again, my life has been pretty sheltered.

  Still, I think it’s amazing. Everyone gives single moms all these props, but single dads seem to fall between the cracks. It’s a sad reality of life, maybe because they seem so fewer in numbers, but I have the feeling their fight is harder.

  And already, my heart is aching for this fracture little family even though I’ve got no idea what exactly happened, and even though it’s none of my business.

  The curious side of my soul wants to know everything, but the part of me that feels like dad’s watching says I need to keep my tongue under control. It’s none of my business. I need to repeat that like a mantra and focus on the task at hand.

  “Hello?”

  “Kyle!” I exclaim, standing up and looking over the stall door at the vet. He flashes me a great big grin and I apologize. “Sorry if you were waiting for me out there.”