Her friend’s older brother had always been the type she had to admire from afar. Whenever Mel spent any time at the ranch, Cole was dismissive and standoffish. She was sure that he assumed she was the typical rich, private-school kid. Cori told her Cole hadn’t been pleased with their parent’s idea of putting Cori into private school, despite it being ranked the country’s top school. Being eight years older than Cori, he sometimes took on the role of the third parent. Cole prided himself on being a hard-working rancher and never forgetting their family’s unpretentious roots. For Melanie and her sister, coming to school in Passion Creek meant boarding there, hours away from their parents.
Mrs. Harris glanced over at her as she placed pots in the sink. “It’s settled then. I’ll get the spare room all set up for you, my dear.”
Melanie stood. “I can do that.”
“Nonsense. It will be my pleasure. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a guest here overnight. I’m looking forward to some conversation with a woman. Cori’s been away for a few weeks, and I’m going crazy with these men.”
“Thanks,” Cole said with a short laugh.
“Mrs. H, you love us. Besides, who else would eat all this food?” Gage peered into the oven and then shut the door with a frown. “No dessert? Chocolate cake?”
Mrs. Harris stood with her hands perched on her wide hips. “It’s on the cake stand. I’ll slice you a piece and then it’s out of here. I need to get a room set up for Melanie and then clean up the kitchen.”
Gage eyed the chocolate cake under the glass dome. “I can slice it myself.”
“You’ll eat half the cake if I leave you alone,” she grumbled. Mrs. Harris loved doting on the men, and despite the fact that the both of them were probably two of the most masculine, hardened men she’d met, they were very comfortable letting Mrs. Harris fuss over them.
“Well, why don’t I clear the table while you slice that cake?” Melanie called out over her shoulder, already stacking the dishes from the table.
“Thank you, m’dear,” she said, slicing into the deep, dark chocolate dessert. Melanie placed the dishes into the white farmhouse sink, glancing over to see Mrs. Harris place two heaping mounds of cake onto waiting plates.
“Want some milk with that?” Cole drawled as Gage snatched up the first plate.
Gage paused a forkful of cake halfway to his lips, his eyes darting to hers. “Coffee. Black. I don’t drink milk.”
“Enough nonsense. I have a kitchen to clean and a guest to care for. Now, off you go,” Mrs. Harris said, swatting Gage on the arm with a dish towel. Melanie was smiling as she cleared the remaining items from the table.
“Nice seeing you, Mel,” Gage said, before shoveling a large bite of the cake into his mouth.
Melanie smiled at him. “You, too.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast,” he said with a wave as he left the room.
Cole stood in the doorway for a moment, holding his plate of uneaten cake in his hands. His brown eyes were, as usual, beautiful but unreadable. “‘Night, Mel.”
Melanie raised her hand in her second awkward wave of the evening. “Good night.”
She turned to find Mrs. Harris staring at her pensively, before quickly turning away and placing the glass dome back on the cake tray.
“Come, my dear, follow me and I’ll get you all settled upstairs. You must be tired,” she said as Melanie followed her out the kitchen. Tired? She never went to bed this early. But she couldn’t exactly hang around the great room with Gage and Cole. And it was too late to ask them to take her up to the chapel, especially with the current weather. She supposed she could go into the dining room and take measurements, but again she didn’t want to bother Mrs. H.
Melanie followed Mrs. H up the stairs. She knew the house very well, almost all the creaks in the wide plank dark wood floors exactly where she remembered them. She ran her hand along the smooth, polished banister as they made their way to the second floor. The six-bedroom home was spacious but inviting. The buttery yellow walls and dark wood accent furniture accentuated the richly colored wool carpets sitting on the hardwood floors.
“Normally I would put you in the guest room with the en suite, but that washroom has been making some funny noises. I just don’t trust it. So I’ll put you in this room instead, but you’ll have to use that hallway washroom,” Mrs. Harris said, as she opened the door to one of the rooms. The room had a white iron-framed double bed, with a brightly colored patchwork quilt, and a large window overlooking the back of the property.
“Oh don’t worry at all. Like I said, I don’t want to be a bother. Besides, this room is absolutely gorgeous,” Melanie said, placing her bag on a wicker chair in the corner of the room. She had never been in here; usually she’d sleep in Cori’s room when she was over.
“I’ll run and get some pajamas for you from Cori’s room.”
“Thank you, but really don’t fuss.”
“Don’t you worry,” Mrs. H said bustling out of the room.
Melanie walked over to her purse, pulling out her phone and then walked to the window. She needed to check for messages at work. She chewed her bottom lip as she listened to the first message from one of her more difficult clients. Her wedding-planning business, while doing very well, was still in the early phases. She needed every single one of her clients, no matter how difficult they were.
She glanced over her shoulder when Mrs. Harris crept into the room, and quickly placed some clothes on the edge of the bed.
“Good night, dear,” she whispered and then scurried out of the room.
Melanie barely glanced at the clothes as she listened to the last message. The voice that was on the other end of the line echoed through the receiver and bombarded her senses, an avalanche of memories cascading over her, through her, and weighing her down until she sank to the bed. It was her sister. “Melly, it’s me, Meredith. I…I know it’s been a long time, but I’m coming to Passion Creek next week. Father is coming in for some deal between Anderson Food and—” Melanie sucked in her breath as her sister stopped speaking, the low, muffled timbre of a man’s voice in the background. Her sister must have placed her hand over the receiver and she heard them arguing. Who was it? Their father? Her heart ached in a slow, pounding beat as she waited to hear her sister’s voice again. But she didn’t hear it. All she heard was the ominous click of the receiver, and her own ragged breath that she finally freed from her mouth.
Meredith hadn’t contacted her in years. No one in their family had.
Melanie stared at the display on her phone again, slowly rising. She walked over to the window, her eyes focusing on the darkening skyline. And then she hit the replay button. This time, she could listen without having her knees give out. This time, she could make out the anxiety in each syllable.
She listened to the message three more times until she finally gave up, and despite her efforts could not make out the man’s identity. But she did know her sister was coming to Passion Creek. And so was their father. She wrapped her arms around herself. Not to see you, Mel. It’s for his precious company, Anderson Food Group.
Melanie turned around and rolled her shoulders. She needed a nice, long, hot shower. She needed to push aside the thoughts of Meredith, their father, their past. She would rather think of the handsome, emotionally unavailable rancher downstairs.
She frowned as she glanced down at the tiny pile of clothes on the edge of the bed. The pile was tiny because the clothes were fairly nonexistent. It was lingerie. She had pictured herself crawling into some nice warm and fuzzy flannels. Not something made out of a slip of silk and lace. This was what Mrs. Harris found for her to wear?
Chapter Two
Cole grumbled to himself as he made his way to the upstairs linen closet. He’d been ready to take a shower when he noticed there were no towels in his washroom. Not that he’d ever complain to Mrs. H. He was bone tired and all he wanted was to take a hot shower before going to bed.
He was also ou
t of sorts today, too. First, he was still waiting on news from his little sister’s fiancée. He knew it was routine surgery, but still. He wanted to know she was fine and on the mend. He’d have a few choice words with his soon to be brother-in-law when he finally got around to calling him.
Second, seeing his friend put the moves on Melanie put him in a foul mood. It shouldn’t bother him, and yet it did. This knowledge pissed him off even more. Gage even had the nerve to invite himself to her apartment if the weather didn’t improve. Like his friend would ever be too afraid of driving in a storm. No, Gage was looking to move in on Mel. Melanie was…definitely not his type, so why it bothered him made no sense.
He walked quietly down the hallway toward the linen closet, careful not to make enough noise that Mrs. H would hear him. The washroom door was shut and he could hear the water running. Melanie must have been inside. Mrs. Harris was really off her game tonight, all these mistakes. First his towels, then choosing the only room without an en suite for their houseguest. He wondered if her age was finally catching up with her. He opened the linen closet next to the washroom, frowning as a stack of familiar towels threatened to tumble out. It appeared as though someone had just stuffed them in there and shut the closet door. He really was going to have to start paying closer attention to Mrs. Harris. The thought of her going downhill was disturbing.
He grabbed the towels just as the washroom door swung open, and Mel stood there, wearing something he knew he’d never be able to forget. His mouth went dry at the sight of her. Dammit. Every single gorgeous feature that he’d been trying to ignore was glaring at him like a neon sign.
He stood there, for the first time in his life wishing he could be a liar. A man who hid. He took in the wet hair, which fell in soft waves to her bare shoulders. Her shoulders were bare because of the lacy, tank-top thing she was wearing. It was low-cut and revealed a jaw-dropping amount of creamy cleavage he wished to God he wasn’t witnessing. Melanie coughed and he quickly looked up to meet her eyes, scrambling for a voice. Except her eyes weren’t on his. They were trailing over him. Standing there without a shirt on, with a woman like Mel dressed in next to nothing, in a dark hallway at night, made blood thunder through his veins so loudly it drowned out all thoughts of why he couldn’t have Mel.
“Sorry if I startled you.” Her voice was low and slightly husky with the tiniest twinge of vulnerability. It was a dangerous combination.
“You didn’t startle me,” he said, shutting the closet door. He should focus on something else, but all he wanted to do was look at her. If he were the optimistic sort, he’d take a moment to relish in the fact that for the first time in years he was noticing and responding to a woman. She was nothing like Sarah. Melanie was petite, like small enough that she’d be able to tuck her head under his chin. And she was curvy, enticingly curvy in all the right places. Her eyes were green, a deep, dark emerald color that to him always seemed filled with secrets. She’d always been kind of quiet, and he’d always been aware of her on some level.
“I, uh, I guess I’ll get back to my room,” she said, her face turning an enchanting shade of pink. Enchanting. When had that word entered his vocabulary? At least he hadn’t said it out loud. He realized then that he was staring. She probably thought he was an ogling jerk, checking out the cleavage of the houseguest.
“Sorry, I just never realized…” He scrambled for something to say. He was an idiot. Totally out of practice. He used to be able to just look at a woman and have her saunter over to where he was standing in the bar. Now he was like a pervert hiding in the shadows.
She crossed her arms in front of herself, probably trying to hide parts from him he really shouldn’t be seeing, no matter how much he found himself wanting to. Her movement sent a delicious amount of flesh swelling over the already low neckline.
“Never realized?” she asked.
What the hell are you saying, man? He needed to end this undercurrent of whatever the hell it was that he’d started. Crap. Never realized. Never realized…how beautiful she was. How sexy. How…
Her full lips had parted and desire slammed him in the gut and exploded through his body. It was time to shut this down. He cleared his throat. “I never realized how short you are.”
He was the biggest ass. An idiot.
“Short?” She began tapping her foot, and he made the mistake of looking down, his gaze trailing over the smooth, silky bare legs.
He swallowed hard and then looked up at her, giving a quick nod.
“Thank you. I’m glad you have come to the realization that I’m short. I’ll just walk back to my room as quickly as my short, stubby, little legs will allow,” she said, turning to pass him.
He reached out to grab her arm and caught her hand instead. A jolt of something rattled him when her soft, warm hand filled his own. He stared into her green eyes and caught the awareness that filled their depths. This could go nowhere. Ever. He had to remember that. He needed boundaries. Space. She needed to go home tomorrow.
A soft click interrupted the silence, and he whipped his head around in the direction of the noise, just in time to see Mrs. H’s tight, gray curls disappear into the doorway that led to her third-floor suite. He cursed inwardly. Of course. His housekeeper wasn’t going senile; she was playing matchmaker.
“Good night, Cole,” Melanie whispered, tugging her hand free from his.
He nodded, dropping his hand to his side. “‘Night.”
Cole waited until she closed her door and then marched back to his own room, towels in hand. Ten minutes later he was showered and settled in bed and staring up at the ceiling, wide awake. He glanced over at the picture of Sarah, the moonlight highlighting her smile. He replayed his last days with Sarah, all her pleas for him to find someone. He replayed the lie he’d told her. For five years no one had come into his life that made him want to open himself up again. For five years he’d been able to look at attractive women and not respond. Until tonight.
He cursed out loud and tried to fluff his pillow as sleep eluded him. He ended up punching it a few times instead and then fell back on it, in a worse mood than before. He was just going to avoid Melanie tomorrow. Gage could dote on her all day, since it was obvious he was interested. He would just step back and not interfere. He glowered at the ceiling. He was going to get Melanie out of his head.
Unfortunately, he dreamed about her that night.
…
“Good morning. I hope you had a nice evening,” Mrs. Harris called out the second his foot entered the kitchen.
“Mornin’. I hope you had a nice evening, too. I know hustling up and down those stairs must be tiring,” he said, pouring a cup of fresh coffee as he settled himself at the table. He watched with satisfaction as Mrs. Harris’s full cheeks turned bright pink.
“I’m just fine, just fine. But I wasn’t going up and down the stairs. Just stayed in my room, minding my own business.” She spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate and placed a few pieces of crispy bacon right beside.
“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning back in his chair as she moved around the room.
“I do hope Melanie was able to sleep well,” she said, her eye still on him in what he assumed was supposed to be an inconspicuous glance. She didn’t pull it off.
“If she didn’t freeze to death in that skimpy outfit you gave her.” His teasing was to his own detriment, because even though Mrs. H was choking on her coffee, he was now plagued with the image of Melanie in the hallway. He’d had the worst sleep in a long time. This morning he’d woken up vowing to put aside his thoughts of Melanie. He’d let his friend make whatever play he wanted, and then Cole would just go back to living his life. Besides, after Cori got married, he and Mel would rarely run into each other.
“Well, it was all I could find on the spur of the moment,” she said, placing a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table.
“Sure it was.” He chewed the bacon, his eyes narrowing when Mrs. H sat down in front of him. She never sat
down for breakfast; she was usually bustling around saying she had too much to do.
“I just love that Melanie,” Mrs. Harris said with a sigh.
Cole groaned inwardly. He knew exactly where this conversation was headed. One-way ticket to hell for him. “Well, I better get out there.”
“Nonsense; it’s Saturday and you can take a few minutes to sit and chat. I have half a mind to serve you some more bacon with a hefty side of love advice, young man,” she said, refilling his mug. He leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of coffee.
“Don’t need any.”
“These mornings sure are lonely just you and I,” she said, smoothing the already perfectly pressed place mats. “It will be so nice having Mel join us today.”
He shoved a forkful of eggs in his mouth, deciding he’d better ignore the comment.
She wasn’t having any of it. She leaned forward, curly gray hair even more tightly wound. “You have to find yourself a woman. You can’t be hanging out with an old lady every night.”
Cole put down his mug. “Had a woman. Don’t want another one.”
“You’re too young to think like that.”
“It doesn’t matter how old I am; I know what I want and I know what I need. I needed and wanted Sarah. And now she’s gone. So I have no interest in finding something I can never have again.”
“How do you know if you haven’t tried?”
Cole sighed harshly. Mrs. Harris was like a mother to him. She’d been at the ranch for as long as he could remember. She’d coddled him and his sister when their parents died, even though he’d been an adult. She’d force-fed him and seen him at his worst when Sarah died. They were family in every way that mattered. They ate together; they even drank together. But there were certain topics he didn’t want to discuss. Sarah was one of them.
“I don’t want to try—”
The Rancher's Second Chance Page 2