And for this being his senior photo, when most people dressed up and looked their best, he looked like he couldn’t care less. No crisp button-up shirt, but a faded black t-shirt that looked like it had been around for a decade.
She flipped through the yearbook, ignoring the mass of signatures and well wishes she’d collected on the pages, and sought out more pictures of him.
There were very few images of him. When he did turn up, he was usually just in the background passing by. Though one image caught him and another guy playing what looked like a card game during lunch.
She’d faintly remembered him hanging out with a couple other guys in high school, but couldn’t have told anyone their names. Most of her memories of him came from drama class. While she’d enjoyed the class, he’d seemed miserable. They’d even been paired up for a scene together for an assignment. Some Shakespeare play she couldn’t even remember the name of now. But it had been a romantic scene—no kissing or anything—that had always left her a little flustered. Maybe because, for a guy who’d hated acting, he’d sure pulled off that intense, heated stare while saying his passionate lines to her.
Katie closed the yearbook and laid back on her bed, staring at her ceiling.
Interesting that he’d remembered her so clearly this afternoon, when she’d struggled to place him. Then again, maybe that wasn’t completely unusual.
She sighed and shook her head. Sometimes she forgot how much of a mainstay she’d been at Marietta high school. She really had been the stereotypical social butterfly. Friends with people from all the different “groups”. She’d even been homecoming royalty.
Things were different now. Once she’d left the secure walls of her small high school and entered the vast world of a college campus, things had changed. She’d become a little fish in a rather larger pond.
Her chest tightened and she struggled to breathe for a moment, before she blinked away the memories.
She climbed off the bed and walked to her window that overlooked the cabins and the rest of the ranch. She homed in on his cabin, and wondered what he was doing in there.
Laying on the bed playing on his phone? Napping? Showering?
That last image lingered a bit too long and she blushed. Why on earth was she envisioning Hunter in the shower? He wasn’t her type. He wasn’t.
“Katie, really?” she muttered to herself.
Realizing she was getting a little too inquisitive over their guest, Katie gave a sigh of disgust and turned away.
Of all the things she should be doing right now, stalking Hunter Richardson wasn’t one of them.
There was no Wi-Fi.
Hunter fought the rising panic as paced the cabin.
He’d known there was going to be a block on technology when he’d booked the week at the ranch. At the time it had sounded like an awesome idea. Unplugging and getting back to nature. Lance and the guys had eaten it up too.
But now that he was smack dab in the middle of it, reality was setting in. And forget getting any data on his phone up in these hills. Texts were at best dicey making it out.
“Shit. I did not think this through.” He sighed and tossed his phone on the bed, then scrubbed his beard.
If he acknowledged it to himself, he could admit it wasn’t necessarily the lack Wi-Fi that was upsetting him, it was the lack of a distraction.
He needed to immerse himself in work. In emails. Games. Something to distract himself from Katie Marshall.
Closing his eyes, he could see her behind his lids. Tall with slight curves. The gorgeous brown hair, probably only highlighted with the Montana summer sunshine. And her smile. Her smile made his blood pound a little faster.
He’d always remembered her being not just pretty, but friendly, and he’d been drawn to her because of that. It was part of the reason he’d chosen Marshall ranch for Lance’s bachelor party.
But when he’d pulled up and seen her, everything had kind of tilted upside down. He hadn’t expected to feel this strong of an attraction to her. Even worse was the urge to act on it.
High school Hunter would’ve never hit on her. Hell, his prom date had been a girl from Livingston whom he’d met in an online gaming community.
Things were different now though. He’d left Marietta and grown the hell up. He wasn’t the awkward gamer from high school, he was the confident guy who created the games.
He had money. Success. And both of those seemed to have a lot of sway on the female population. Though he wasn’t usually the one pursuing women, they usually came after him.
And it probably didn’t hurt that he’d started paying a little more attention in college to his clothes and appearance. Though the beard was sheer laziness, which made it a good thing they were pretty trendy in Seattle.
The lumberjack look, his last girlfriend had told him. Apparently, it was a thing.
He opened his eyes and grabbed his phone, checking the time. Shit, not even six-thirty. Maybe he should’ve gone into town with the guys.
What the hell was he going to do for the rest of the night?
Restlessness ate through him, until he finally knew what he had to do.
He climbed off the bed, shoved his phone into his back pocket, and left the cabin again.
Maybe he wasn’t familiar with the property, and the map they’d been given at check-in would have been helpful, but he liked to do a little exploring on his own.
He made his way past the barn and pasture, until he found a trail that led into the trees.
The evening summer sun broke through the high branches, shining bright spots on the dirt trail. There were hoof prints on it and he figured this must be where some of the horseback rides took place.
Laughter echoed in the woods, and his attention caught on a couple off in the distance walking toward him.
It was Wyatt Marshall and the woman who’d been introduced as his fiancée. What was her name? Claire?
“Hey there, Hunter.” Wyatt greeted him with a friendly nod as the pair approached. “You lost? Or looking for something in particular?”
“No, I’m good.” Hunter gave a brief smile. “Just needed to get some air after dinner. Found this trail and figured it was a safe bet.”
“Sure is. Keep going and you’ll hit the river in another ten minutes or so.”
“Thanks.”
“So you’re originally from Marietta?” Claire glanced at him curiously. “Wyatt mentioned it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Some things died hard. Like saying ma’am and sir. It was as natural as breathing when he was home, and something he struggled to tone down in Seattle, because he got some weird looks. He’d gotten the nickname of “country-boy coder” in a couple of his programming classes.
Claire nodded. “And you’re living in Seattle now?”
“Yeah. That’s where I went to school, and have my little company there now.”
“Heard about that company.” Wyatt’s eyes narrowed with respect. “Not so little, really. Congratulations on all your success.”
Pride, and surprise, slid through him. Hunter and Wyatt’s high school years hadn’t overlapped, and Hunter really didn’t know the oldest Marshall sibling that well. But what he did know was the man seemed like a decent guy.
“Thank you.” Hunter glanced at the blonde again, trying to place her. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I remember you. You’re from Marietta too?”
“No.” A sliver of sadness flashed in her eyes. “I’m from just about everywhere, and found Marietta when my band came and played here for the rodeo last fall.” She glanced up at Wyatt and their gazes held. “But this is my home now. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with this sexy cowboy.”
“Don’t make me blush.” Wyatt’s drawl was teasing, but clearly, he was pleased. “Anyway, we’ll let you enjoy your walk. It’s good to see you back in town.”
“Thanks.” Hunter thrust his hands into his hoodie pocket. The natural response should’ve been “It’s good to be back”, but his to
ngue couldn’t quite form it.
Wyatt must’ve noticed because he gave him a slight nod and speculative look. “Well, I guess we’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“Have a good night,” Claire called softly as they moved past him.
After hearing their footsteps in the dirt retreating, Hunter cast a glance over his shoulder at them.
Nice people. Claire was pleasant, and Wyatt seemed cool enough. Then he’d always figured most of the Marshalls to be good people. Despite his initial hesitation, he’d made the right choice to stay at this ranch.
Not that he’d had much of a choice. When Lance had brought up a cowboy experience bachelor party retreat, Hunter had mentioned Marshall ranch. Lance had checked out the website and had agreed to get on board within minutes.
So now here they were, off to a decent start. He just hoped the rest of the week went as smooth.
Katie woke up at the crack of dawn, which was just about what she did every day. Wyatt and the ranch hands were probably up getting ready by now.
She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. The thin sheet kept her warm enough on these early summer nights, but she still cringed at the idea of sliding out from under it and stepping onto the cool wood floor.
For just a few minutes, she let herself enjoy the calm of the morning. The birds were carrying on their own conversation outside her window and, off in the distance, she heard the low moos of the heifers.
Knowing breakfast wasn’t going to make itself—and that they had three extra men today—she climbed out of comfort and went to get dressed.
By the time she arrived downstairs, Wyatt was in the kitchen preparing the coffee.
He cast her a grin. “Morning, Katie.”
“Morning, Wyatt. Claire still sleeping?”
“Yeah, she had trouble sleeping last night. Told her to skip breakfast if she wanted. We can save a plate.”
Amusement danced through Katie. My how things had changed in a half-year. She could still remember Wyatt, all red and irritated, snapping that if Claire didn’t show up for mealtime, then she didn’t eat.
“Sure we can.” Katie went to grab a couple double-dozen eggs containers out of the fridge and then an oversized bowl to make the pancake batter from scratch.
“You going to be okay with these guys?”
The concern in her brother’s voice had her pausing as she reached for the flour.
“The bachelor party?” She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’ll be fine, Wyatt. It’s not like they’re my first. And, really, how rowdy can a group of computer programmers get?”
“I don’t like the bachelor,” Wyatt grumbled, not quite under his breath.
“He does seem a little”—she searched for the right word, while measuring out the flour—“hmm. Ornery. He’s not the most charming of men, but I’m sure we’ll get through the week just fine.”
“I hope so. You let me know if he, or any of them, give you any trouble.”
She began cracking eggs. “Are you worried about Hunter?”
“No. Hunter seems like a good guy.”
“I think so too,” she said softly.
The sound of the coffee percolating filled the silence, which was how she realized Wyatt had gone quiet.
When she glanced over at him, he was watching her with a look of consideration.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Just the way you said that. Kind of sounds like you might be a little interested.”
Her pulse quickened. “Interested in Hunter? No.”
“All right.” He nodded. “Besides, you’re already seeing that guy from town, right?”
“Jim. He has a name.” She deliberately kept her tone light. “I don’t know why you haven’t bothered to learn it.”
“Oh, I know his name. Just not so sure I’m happy about my little sister dating.”
“Your little sister is the same age as your fiancé, might I remind you.” She nudged him in the side as she added the last few ingredients to the pancake batter. “I’m beginning to suspect you’re just not a fan of Jim.”
Wyatt didn’t answer, just began cracking more eggs into a separate bowl.
“Figure we’re scrambling some of these?”
“Yeah, if you could crack all twenty-four of those and then grab a couple more out of the other box, that should be enough.”
Wyatt’s brows rose.
“We have three men eating, plus myself and Claire. Trust me, it’ll barely be enough.”
Fifteen minutes later, Wyatt was scrambling the eggs and she’d just flipped her twentieth pancake on the griddle, when the front as door opened. Men’s voiced filled the house.
“Bachelor party boys are here.” She nodded her head toward the dining room. “I can take it from here, why don’t you go bring out some coffee and say hello.”
Wyatt scowled. “Hate this part of the business.”
“No, you don’t. We’ve met many decent folks that you’ve become friends with over the last couple years.” She gave him a pointed look. “Not to mention that’s how you met Claire.”
“Well, technically we met in Vegas.”
“Maybe, but you fell in love here. Now go.”
Wyatt laughed and made his way out to the dining room, carrying two carafes of coffee.
A moment later she heard him chatting with ease to the group of bachelors.
Her mind shifted to one in particular. Hunter. Her stomach did a little flip, and she had to remind herself she wasn’t interested. She had Jim.
After dishing up the scrambled eggs into a large serving bowl, she grabbed the container and made her way out to the dining room.
She nearly fell short at the sight before her. Lance and Dan had ditched their skinny jeans and hoodies. Clearly, they were trying to embody the image of a cowboy with their Levis, boots, and button up long-sleeved plaid shirts. Not to mention the cowboy hats. And judging by the way they shifted in their chairs, or kept fidgeting with their hats, they weren’t quite comfortable in the style.
“Hope I’m not too late.”
She’d just been setting down the eggs, when Hunter strode into the room. Her gaze swung to him and her heart momentarily stopped, before thundering back to life.
Hunter crossed the room with confident strides. Where the hoodie had hidden his shape yesterday, the denim button down shirt showed broad shoulders and toned torso. The shirt was tucked into jeans holding a thick leather belt.
The black cowboy hat on his head didn’t look silly, it looked like it belonged there. Like it was a part of him he’d never acknowledged.
Hunter was suddenly the epitome of the small-town boy returned home. He owned the cowboy look, and judging by the glimmer of confidence in his eyes, he knew it.
“Nah, we’re just getting ready to eat,” Wyatt said.
Katie glanced at her brother, and saw the same speculation and surprise in his eyes. Maybe even a gleam of approval.
“Great.” Hunter turned his glance toward her. “Can I give you a hand, Katie?”
“Oh, no. I’ve got it.” She flushed. “Just need to grab the pancakes and syrup.”
“You got any cream? Sugar?” Lance called out.
“And that,” she muttered.
“Let me help you.”
Before she could argue, Hunter was following her into the kitchen.
Chapter Three
Damn, he felt like the biggest fraud right now. Hunter scratched the back of his neck, wondering if he looked as stupid as he felt.
Which was weird, because when he’d gotten dressed this morning he’d been surprisingly happy with the results. When Lance had talked them all into dressing like cowboys, he’d cringed and even dreaded it.
But when he’d put on the clothes after his shower, he’d actually felt a strange sense of relief. He’d stared in the mirror at himself, figuring he looked like half the guys he’d grown up with. Besides, the clothes weren’t uncomfortable, bu
t practical for what they’d be doing after breakfast.
“Thank you,” Katie said as the kitchen door swung closed behind them. “I can usually handle this on my own, but I appreciate the help.”
“No problem.”
She handed him the platter of pancakes, and he didn’t miss the way her gaze slid over him again.
“Do I look ridiculous?”
“No.” The word was loaded with dismay. “Are you kidding? You look—” She broke off, flushing. “Fine. It suits you just fine, I mean.”
He’d been fearing her silent laughter, but her reaction was intriguing. Her gaze skittered away from his, and her cheeks had a sudden pinkness in them.
“You look like the hometown boy returned home,” she said after a moment.
“Cowboy hat and all.”
“Yeah.”
“Only I never really wore one when I was here.”
She lifted her gaze to his, maybe hearing the slight bitterness in his words that he hadn’t managed to hide.
“Doesn’t matter. You’ve got Marietta blood in your veins, Hunter. That hat looks like it was made for you.”
It was, he wanted to say. He’d had it custom made in a western shop in Seattle. He decided against mentioning that though, because he was too busy replaying her words in his head.
“Pancakes are going to get cold.” She nodded to the tray. “Better get those out there.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that.”
He turned away, striding back to the dining room where the men were already digging into the eggs.
“Pancakes. Hell, yeah, hand those to me, buddy.” Lance reached for the tray, grabbing two oversized cakes with his hands.
“Didn’t your mama teach you manners?” Katie was apparently right behind him, setting the syrup down and scolding Lance at the same time. “Use the tongs.”
Lance’s eyes rounded. Being the CFO of a rising gaming company, he wasn’t really used to be admonished.
There was a heavy, brief silence, before Lance gave a loud, long laugh.
“Well, god damn, she really is like the little woman on the ranch. Cooking and nagging. This is going to be a great week.”
Falling for the Hometown Girl Page 3