"How dare you! You don’t even know me," she bit out.
"I know you well enough, and what I do know of you, I don't like." His smugness was grating on her temper. Claire couldn’t take his smug look any longer.
Fisher saw the slap coming a second before it connected with his face. He knew he deserved it, but it still pissed him off. Two days home and she was already pissing him off. This is the last thing he needed.
"Look Claire. I deserved that, but enough. I am not selling my land to you. Get used to it. Now, you need to leave," Fisher was rubbing the left side of his face. She was a little fire cracker. Fisher swore as his dick was getting harder, but he didn’t dare to look down to see if it was noticeable.
"I am not going anywhere until we talk." She pushed her way into the house as he tried to make the hint to leave clear by shutting her out.
"Sure babe. If you want to continue the conversation, follow me in the shower. We can finish talking there," Fisher was too far gone. If she was foolish enough to follow him into the shower, the he would be foolish enough to take her in the shower.
Claire hesitated. Waiting and then taking a deep breath, she started unbuttoning her shirt.
"What the hell are you doing?" He snapped, trying to make her actions into some sort of sense.
"I am following you in the shower," she said.
Fisher stopped short, wondering how far she was willing to take his bluff.
"Okay then, let's get naked," he started unzipping his pants. He waited for her to stop, but she threw her blouse in his face. Left in a snug white tank top and hip-hugging jeans, she started working on her belt. He was transfixed, praying she was going to take her jeans off. He was already imagining her long, slim legs wrapped around his waist.
"What? I am not a little girl anymore Fisher. Stop looking like an outraged virgin,” she said, not looking at him, a blush spreading from her face, down to her chest.
He was actually enjoying knocking her off balance. Fisher took off his shirt and his pants unzipped, barely holding themselves up. He was waiting for her to make the next move. She stared out him. With nothing left to lose, he took off his pants. The black silk boxers he wore held little back. Claire was staring at his engorged cock, and she was making him lose his ever loving mind.
"Damn it! Claire, I have a date tonight. I can't deal with you right now." He needed to be well away from her while he stood a semblance of a chance.
"Chicken shit," Claire said in a strained voice, averting her eyes but doing a lousy job of it. She obviously didn't know how much danger she was in at the moment.
"You might sleep around on the people you date, but not me,” he said. It was a low blow, and he wished he could take it back, because the look on her face in that moment was sheer disbelief, mixed with simmering anger.
"You are right, but at least I never slept with any of my sister's boyfriends," she snapped out, as she hurried out the door.
Fisher glanced around the high school gym. "You brought me to what?" He wanted to clarify with his date, Tricia Glassman.
She was the local librarian at the school, dull and somewhat pretty. No back talk, no fighting, no mess. Just what he needed in his life, too bad the night sucked already. He was desperate after Claire left and called the first woman the popped up in his contacts of his cell phone. He looked around at all the women, old and young alike. This was a bad idea.
"Zumba, it's an exercise dance class. I told you about a couple days ago," she pouted and stuck her lip out.
Shit, like he even gave her a second thought since Claire arrived in town.
"Are you serious? There is no way in hell I am doing any dancing or whatever you call it, Tricia." What the hell did I see in this chick? He thought to himself. He already regretted going out tonight. Usually, he would take a woman out to a five star restaurant, do some dancing and go back to his place. That was in New York. Since being home and taking over the ranch, he didn’t have time for women. Between the ranch and his software business, he was overworking himself.
"Suit yourself, but I am going to enjoy myself," Tricia said. She walked away and joined the other women. There had to be over thirty people crowded in the small gym. Other than himself, there were two other men, also standing to the side. What a fantastic fucking night. Never again will he allow a woman to dictate where they get to go. A woman with blonde hair caught his eye. Her back was to him. No, it couldn't be.
She was busy talking to group of teens, before she made her way up to the makeshift stage. When she faced the crowd, he had to pick he jaw off the floor. Claire was taking her hands and making a quieting motion. When she got everyone's attention, she was talking instructions and counting people.
What the Fuck? She just moved back into town two days ago. There was no way she moved in the community that fast. She started stripping down. She took off an oversized sweater and her baggy sweat pants. She wore a black sports bra and short, skimpy shorts underneath. He thought about leaving Tricia to find her own way home.
He could hear what Claire was saying to the crowd, but his mind didn’t comprehend anything at the moment. She started the music, and damn did he not go from soft to hard in three seconds flat. The way she was moving her tight, toned body was ridiculous. Women didn't do that shit here, but as he looked around, sure enough even sixty year women were trying to get down and dirty.
Fisher lasted twenty minutes before he stalked out the back doors of the gym. He couldn’t take any more of Claire thrusting her ass around and watching her breasts bounce with the fast paced moves. Tricia could find her own way home. She completely ignored him anyway. He lost sight of her five minutes into the class. He was heading to the bar. He needed a drink after watch Claire do moves he didn't he know existed. He took out his cell and called his brother.
"Hello?" Fisher said questioningly when his call was answered, but no sound came from the other end.
"Ash, what are doing tonight?" He spoke again when heard a rustling noise in the background.
"What do you need?” Asher finally spoke.
"I was going for a drink," he heard someone whispering in the background and Asher answering. He was having rotten luck all the way around tonight, and his brother was apparently getting lucky.
"Never mind bro. I'll catch you later," Fisher hung up and got into his truck and sat there. He certainly didn't feel like going to a bar now, or going home. A tap at the window startled him. He found a very sweaty Claire waving at him outside his driver window.
"What you doing here?" She asked as he rolled the window down.
"I was dragged here by my date, and I am not dirty dancing, which was what you were doing," he stated. There was no way in hell that he was going to go back inside the gym. Not with Claire being here.
"Zumba? That is not dirty dancing. It is a very fun exercise routine that works," she cocked her head to the side looking up at him.
"I don’t care what Zumba is, but I do know that you are crazy," he laughed lightly.
"Zumba has been around for a while. Maddie actually teaches it. She couldn't make it on time, so I stepped in. I taught classes in Ohio," she said.
Fisher didn't know what was worse. Her standing in front of him almost naked and obviously cold, or her alone outside with him having a hard-on in his truck.
"Nice story, I have to go," he said abruptly.
"What about your date? Isn't it wrong just to leave her?" She asked, looking back towards the school.
Fisher started the diesel and listened to the hum of the engine, trying to form a response. He looked down at her. She was hugging herself from the chilly air. It cooled down considerably from earlier.
"Get in before you freeze," he clipped out. She went around the truck to get into the other side. She needed to use the step bar to get in. He wished that she thought to put her sweats and hoodie back on before following him out, but too late now. Fisher's hands clench the steering wheel, trying to get a hold of himself.
The insi
de of his cab was heated, but with her beside him, it was almost unbearable. His hand twitched, he wanted so bad to adjust his dick in his pants, but didn’t want to do it in front of her. He reached behind the seat and threw a heavy blanket on her. Thank God she didn’t ask questions, but tucked it around herself.
“Thanks,” she murmured quietly.
“What do you want Claire?” He asked, twisting to look at her.
“Fisher, I’m going to be around for a while, and I don’t want it to be strained between us,” she looked almost innocent wrapped up in the blanket.
“It’s not,” he said, lying through his teeth.
“We can’t go five minutes without sniping at each other. We need to talk and clear the air,” she pointed out.
“Good point. So go back inside and get dressed, we will talk tomorrow.”
“I didn’t drive. Maddie dropped me off on her way to run errands. I am supposed to ride home with her tonight,”
Great, was he supposed to offer her a ride home, or was he to wait for his date to get done? In his mind, he was screwed either way. He pulled out his cell and texted Tricia about finding another ride home. He already blew the date, so it didn’t matter now. Then he texted Maddie to let her know that he would take Claire home. Hopefully it wouldn’t seem odd to her.
“What about your class?” He asked, hoping she would go back to it.
“I had another experienced classmate take over for the rest of class,” she said simply.
“Fine, let’s talk it out,” Fisher urged her to go first. Ideally, he would have liked to have a few beers in him for this.
She sighed and turned her body towards him, and suddenly his cab just got a whole lot smaller. “I need to talk to you about the acreage I want,” Claire said.
“No. I want to talk about you and me, that’s it,”
“It’s the same thing,”
“We have had sex nine ways to Sunday six years ago, and you think that all we have to talk about is a piece of land. Are you serious, Claire?” His voice raised a little. He tried to control his breathing, calm himself down.
“It was six years ago, Fisher. It was nothing. Aren’t women interchangeable to you?” She shifted restlessly in the seat, tightening the blanket around her.
“You really don’t know when to quit do you sweetheart?”
“Look, I am sorry, but I don’t want to talk about that weekend,” she refused to look at him. Instead, she stared out the passenger side window.
“You were a goddamn virgin! You never told me. Instead, you got up and left. I never heard from you. I had to hear from Asher that you moved to Ohio. Where the hell do you get Ohio from? How messed up was it that you kept in touch with Asher, a guy that you dated for two years, never had sex with. But the guy you did, you never bother to call or to answer your phone when he called you?" He snapped out.
Fisher hated himself for sounding like a whiny little kid, but this shit had been on his chest for years now. Asher had a lot of explaining to do. He wished to hell that he straightened this out when it happened, but he could see it now. Hey Ash, I fucked your girlfriend. It wasn’t like you were doing the job. That would have gone over well.
“Fisher, I am sorry that I never told you. I honestly didn’t think I mattered to you. I won’t lie to you now. I always had a crush on you when I was younger. I might have even loved you in a teenage first love kind of way. That weekend, I saw the chance to have you just once before I left and I was selfish. I don’t regret it one bit, but the next morning I knew you were sorry for what we did, and for the first time, I was ashamed. I ran as fast as I could. I wasn’t going to wait around for you to wind up with someone more your type than me and I was right to leave. I’ve seen the tabloids,” Claire finished her speech and sat there unwilling to look in him the face.
Her admission stunned him. This was the last think that he expected.
“Claire, Sweetheart, I might live in New York, but I’m still a rancher. I’m still me,” his voice softened.
“Don’t pity me now. You are an extremely successful, wealthy man in New York. The women flock to you. I’m nowhere near your type. Anyway, class is letting out, so I will catch a ride home with someone else,” she started to straighten up.
Fisher didn’t even give her a chance to remove her blanket before he threw the truck in drive and high tailed it out of there. He wasn’t letting this confusing woman out of his sight until she put some things straight.
“Fisher! Maddie is waiting for me,” Claire screeched, holding onto the door to keep from flying forward. She hastily put on her seat belt.
“No, she is not, I already texted her. Your mine for the night, get used to it,” he said. Fisher drove to his house and prayed to God that his parents weren't home. It sucked sometimes. Since he bought his parents’ house, they weren't in a hurry to move out, and he didn’t want them too. Good thing he already had a plan in mind for their living arrangements.
Chapter Three
The drive was filled with suppressed sexual tension. Claire was at her breaking point by the time they reached his house. Claire followed Fisher into the house. She hadn’t truly been inside it for six years. Earlier didn’t count, she never made it past the foyer. She took in her surroundings. It had changed drastically. There was no faded wallpaper lining the walls. The shag carpets were replaced by gleaming hardwood floors, and all the furniture was updated. She didn't have too much time to take all the changes in before she was hauled into the kitchen.
"Talk now," Fisher demanded as he leaned against the newer granite counter top, his hands gripping it behind him.
"Where do you want me to start?" She went to the fridge to grab a drink, selecting a beer without bothering to ask. He remained silent and watchful.
"Explain to me what the hell is going on between you and Asher?"
Why did he care about her and Asher? What about Fisher and her? She thought to herself, but answered the question regardless.
"We are just friends. He wants Maddie. He always had. She was too busy to notice him in high school. His hope was, if he was always around, she would take an interest. She never did. End of Story,” she exhaled a sigh when he didn’t immediately ask more questions. She just stood there, his unyielding gaze telling her nothing.
"I see," he finally said. She doubted it, but sat down and sipped her beer, waiting for him to continue. It wasn't the end of the story, but it was all she was willing to tell at the moment. Fisher grabbed himself a beer from the fridge and sat down opposite of her at the island which sat in the middle of the kitchen. The kitchen was renovated as well, with brand new appliances, cabinets and the table had been replaced with this beautiful island. Fisher had a marvelous eye for details.
"Why were you a virgin?" He asked, interrupting her wondering thoughts. So much for avoiding this conversation, he obviously wasn’t going to let it go.
"Just was, everyone thought I was dating Asher. It wouldn’t look too good if people thought that I was cheating on him. I had other things to keep myself occupied. Besides, I was still in high school," she stuck out her chin, daring him to make a comment.
Fisher suddenly flashed a smile and leaned back, studying her, "Do they still exist, the virgins? Please, enlighten me as to how you know this?"
"Stop teasing me. I need to talk to you about the land," Claire switched subjects. She didn't need to be talking to Fisher about anything sexual. She knew where it would lead. The two of them naked on top this beautiful island top.
Fisher gave a heavy sigh and shifted in his seat. Claire felt a moment of hope that he would relent and hear her out. Those hopes were dashed when he spoke next.
"I am not selling any land. I don't know where you heard this tidbit. I have never had the land for sale. I just bought the place last year from my parents, to help out. It is still theirs," he conceded.
"Your mom told me to talk to you, she seemed excited," she said.
"You spoke to my mother about this? They felt ashamed
for almost losing the ranch to the bank. Do you honestly think that they would want to talk about selling their land? A place that means so much to them? Do you have any tack?" Fisher’s frustration showed in his voice.
"I didn't know Fisher. They said they retired. I thought they were tired of working the cattle and farming the land,”
"They were about to lose everything. I found out at the last minute, and I stepped in to help. They are still in the red and refuse to take any of my money. I am working my ass off to cover everything from what they have to work with. We probably will not re-lease your parent's land next year, if our profit margins don't increase," he said as he got up and started pacing.
"Why not sale to me then? If you need the money, I can get a loan," her plea didn't work on him. She knew what she said was the wrong thing as soon as it came out of her mouth.
"When you understand Claire, then we might revisit the subject. I need to get to bed. I have to check the cattle early in the morning. Come on, I will run you home," Fisher gathered up the beer bottles and placed them in the sink.
"No. I'll walk. It's a five minute walk, and I need it," she got up and moved to the hall way.
Fisher walked Claire to the door. He opened the closet beside the front door, and handed her a sweater and gently kissed her forehead. The sweet gesture wasn't lost on her. The cold hearted man wasn't as cold hearted as he wanted her to believe. She could feel his eyes on her as she stepped off the porch.
She started the slow trek down the gravel drive. There was still light outside, being the summer, the days were long. The walk allowed her time to collect her thoughts. She was confused as to why Fisher wouldn't sell when he clearly needed the money. His parents assured her that they had acreage to spare. The Weston’s owned over a thousand acres. She needed about fifty to be comfortable. Surely he would see it was a smart business move. She debated about asking Asher, but decided against it. At least Fisher cared enough to put his own business aside to step in and help his parents.
She would take the loss and look elsewhere for land. She was severely disappointed. The land was pivotal to her needs. However, she also understood that Fisher was a proud man, and wouldn’t fail his parents. She would accept it. She needed the acreage for the camp. The land that her and her sisters own was about fifty acres total, divided up between the three of them. Her share wasn't going to be enough. She opened the door to her home, just as Maddie walked into the living room.
Weston Ranch, Fisher's Story Page 2