He had another early start in the morning, so he needed to clear his head and get some damn rest. His dream was to work his own land with Yukon, make enough to live comfortably. With all their bad luck lately, it would be a while before that day came.
Parker lifted the crystal top off the decanter he kept on his dresser and poured himself a drink. He downed it in one swallow, feeling the burn all the way down his throat to his stomach. He poured another.
Robyn was probably laughing about them right now. Her and her asshole boyfriend.
After another hit of hard liquor, he hoped sleep would come quickly.
****
The next morning, his alarm woke him from a dead sleep. He sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling worse than shit after overindulging. After a quick shower to wake himself up, he made himself some oatmeal in the kitchen. He could hear Yukon milling around upstairs, and truthfully he wanted to be gone before he came downstairs. Any conversation with his brother would lead to more lies, and he was tired of the lies and games.
He shoveled the hot oatmeal into his mouth as he stood by the front window. The sun was just starting to lighten the sky, hints of deep pinks and reds peeking from behind the treeline. A rooster from the next farm over crowed.
“Another early start?”
Fuck.
He didn’t turn around. Or answer.
Yukon stood beside him, taking in the same view. He took a sip of his juice.
“Seems we’re becoming strangers, you and I. That the way you want it?” asked Yukon.
“Things are fucked up lately.”
“You don’t have to do whatever it is you’re doing. We can get twice as much done on the farm if you help out.”
“It still won’t be enough. Times are tough for crop farmers.”
Yukon finished his juice. “At what point are you going to give things a chance? We’re supposed to be a team.”
He knew his brother was talking about his promise never to ride in the rodeos again. Yukon expected him to listen, but he refused to do the same. The real issue with Yukon was that woman. He’d been moping ever since Robyn left.
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Yukon. You’re pissed I don’t listen to you, but wasn’t I the one to tell you to stay away from Robyn?”
“I really don’t want to hear her name.”
Parker scoffed. “At least you got something out of it.”
Yukon whirled on him, shoving him backward. “I didn’t want her for sex. I wanted to fucking keep her. Some of us think with more than our dicks.”
“And I warned you she’d break your fucking heart, didn’t I?” Parker wasn’t about to tell his brother the pathetic tale of his own broken heart so many years ago. He was protecting Yukon from the same heartache. City girls were good for nothing.
“Don’t worry about me. Do I look like a boy? I’m past having my heart broken.”
“Tell that to someone who’ll believe your bullshit,” said Parker.
Yukon’s body looked tense, his muscles rigid. He probably wanted to brawl and let off steam, but he held back, finally raising his arms to the side in defeat. “What do you want from me, Parker? You want us to live alone in this damn house forever? You want us to die like Dad?”
Parker was at a loss for words. He may come across as an asshole, but he wanted Yukon happy. He’d sacrifice anything for his younger brother because his love life was already a forfeit. That was how family worked. With his heart stomped on, Yukon could only see his pain, and refused to see that Parker had been trying to warn him the entire time.
He shook his head.
“Tell me the truth about one thing, Parker. I saw the way you looked at her. Tell me you didn’t love her.”
His first reaction was to lie. He was good at that lately. But Yukon asked for the truth. He wasn’t sure what the truth was, only that there had been something there—a connection, lust, desire, he wasn’t sure what the fuck it was. “Yeah, I felt something, but does it even matter? She’s gone, which means she’s no good for either of us.”
Yukon took a deep breath, running both hands through his hair.
“Don’t think about her. You know the best way to do that? Get out there and stop spending all your free time daydreaming,” said Parker.
Yukon nodded and returned to the kitchen, setting his glass in the sink. “I’ll see you later.” The screen door flapped shut a minute later.
He should take his own advice, but he’d been using cheap whiskey to stave off the loneliness and disappointment. Every time he remembered the day he caught Robyn rooting around his room, he’d get an instant hard-on. As much as he knew she was a mistake, he still wanted her. She was a forbidden temptation, and those were the hardest to forget.
Chapter Fourteen
Robyn had spent the last few days going over paperwork with different farmers and representatives. Now that it was Monday, they had to close the Palmer account. One of their smaller properties was on affected land, so they had to get them to sign off for the lowest price possible. Since Shelly had other clients to deal with in the morning, aka mani and pedi, Peter was doing the driving.
“Robyn?”
“Sorry, did you say something?” asked Robyn. Her head had been in the clouds lately. She kept trying to shut out her memories of Yukon and Parker, but they kept forcing their way back to the surface. She wasn’t the type to fuck a man and run, and it was usually the other way around. It was the fact the brothers brought her past to the forefront, made her feel things she’d been trying to bottle up all her life. They were her kryptonite.
She kept telling herself to move forward, keep her head up, and reach for the end goal. Cowboys may not have the same aspirations. Apparently they cared about family, not money and success. Robyn didn’t do family, so she needed to keep climbing the corporate ladder one rung at a time.
“I was talking about the Palmer account,” he said. “We need to get this signed at the lowest possible price, so put on the charm. These bushmen can probably be swayed easily, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I got you.”
She looked out the window and rolled her eyes. He wanted her to pop open a few buttons and flirt her way into a favorable contract. Some days she felt the only reason she got anywhere in court was by using her sexuality. Then Shelly would remind her that was their super power.
Robyn exhaled, trying not to get so damn psychological. What she needed was the city, the lights, the noise, the late nights at Metrosexual.
These strange beds and the rural countryside were stripping her defenses back layer by layer, making her weaker. Her real parents, whoever the fuck they were, were simpletons from a small country town. She wanted to be nothing like them. She needed to be so much more.
“We’re here,” said Peter.
Again, she’d been deep in her own dire thoughts. She grabbed her briefcase and exited the vehicle, straightening her skirt suit after taking a couple steps. This ranch was different from the others they’d visited last week. It was a large, modern operation with a huge workforce.
“This is what I’m talking about. If I had to rough it in the country, I’d like to stay with these guys.” Peter pointed to the house in the distance. It was a ranch-style home, but looked like it cost a small fortune. This Palmer family owned a shitload of property and ran the largest cattle operation in the province. She hoped they didn’t have their own high-priced lawyers ready to push for top dollar.
“I just want to get home. Like yesterday.” She watched each step, her heels sinking into the muck.
The sounds of cowboys hollering, cattle clamouring, and horns blaring were an audible overload. A feed truck started backing up right in front of her, putting her on her last nerve. She barely darted out of the path of the splattering mud. Shelly owed her for ditching this signing. Her friend wanted to look good for dinner tonight. She planned to get Peter in her bed, which would leave Robyn stuck in limbo since they were sharing a room. Three was definitel
y a crowd in this case.
Her train of thought led her back to that old house. She envisioned a threesome with Yukon and Parker and was shocked by the strong urge that raced through her body. Stupid hormones. Her body was still thrumming from that one night with Yukon. The man did his boot size justice, but there was no way she was going to tell Shelly her theory was right. If she let her friend know she’d fucked a hillbilly, she’d never let her live it down. In their world, the higher the degree or paycheck, the stronger the bragging rights.
There had been times she wanted more, wanted real love, but reality was usually quick to douse those flames. One lesson had aided her well. The harder the veneer, the easier it was to get through life.
“There’s the office entrance,” said Peter.
They entered the one-story brick building. The waiting area was dated but better than what she’d seen the last few days. The secretary looked way too young.
“We’re here to see Mr. Palmer,” said Peter.
The girl smiled. “Which one?”
Robyn frowned and pulled out a file, sifting through the pages. “Austin?”
“Sure. Just a minute.”
“Is Austin the father?” asked Peter.
“No idea. It’s on one of the papers.”
A minute later, a tall, buffed man came out from the back, the girl following behind him.
“Morning. I’m Austin Palmer.” He held his hand out to Peter, then shook Robyn’s. The man wasn’t the father of this cattle enterprise. He only looked to be in his mid-forties with dirty-blond hair and striking blue eyes. She immediately thought of Yukon and cursed herself.
“Is there somewhere we can get these files signed off on?” asked Peter. “We’re a long way from home.”
The cowboy waved them to follow.
“How many Mr. Palmers work here? Your secretary wasn’t sure which one we wanted to see,” asked Peter.
“Oh, that’s our baby sister, Amy. And there are three of us now, me and my two younger brothers. Our father passed away not too long ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Come on in.” Austin held open a door down the hall and waited for them to enter. It was a conference-style room, exactly what Robyn was used to. She put her briefcase down and set the files on the table with two pens at the side. Then she remembered what Peter had said in the car, so she hooked her suit jacket on the back on the chair. Robyn didn’t have to do much to make herself more noticeable. Her curves were usually a hindrance. At work, they often got her points.
As Peter and Austin made small talk, she glanced out the large picture window that looked out onto the grounds. Farm hands were leading horses, driving tractors with bales of hay, and doing various odd jobs. It was quite the commotion. Then she caught sight of something familiar, making her sit straighter in her seat. She looked closer, hoping the cowboy would turn around so she could get a better look.
He entered one of the barns.
Robyn turned around and focused on the task at hand.
“I like having friends,” said Austin. “In my line of work, I find good friends are more valuable than a few dollars.”
“You’re absolutely right, Mr. Palmer.”
“Of course, my father also taught us to keep our enemies even closer.” He winked at them, taking special interest in Robyn. This man may be a cowboy, but at least he had money and class. Still, she couldn’t garner up enough interest to give a shit. Her heart was still warring with her, but she’d win the battle soon enough.
The papers were finally signed, and they packed up and said their usual pleasantries. She was tiring of this traveling legal freak show and wanted to go home. Out of sight, out of mind, or so she hoped.
“Take a look around, enjoy the views before you head out,” said Austin. “As I tell all my guests, our home is your home.”
“You’re too kind, Mr. Palmer. I hope to have the pleasure of doing business with you again,” said Peter. If he was Calloway’s right-hand man, he was a professional ass-kisser. It was part of the business.
They walked back toward their rental car. She kept an eye on the barn she’d seen through the window. Then she saw him.
Parker.
He turned around after setting down a wheelbarrow, and they made eye contract. Fuck, he looked sexier than sin. His plaid shirt was unbuttoned, his chest tanned and slick with sweat. He ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes narrowed with too much hate for her to handle.
She rushed alongside Peter, wanting to be anywhere else. Why was Parker at the Palmer ranch anyway? She thought she’d never see the brothers again. This was not part of her plan.
When they reached the car, it was blocked in by a pick-up truck to the front and a massive pile of cow shit to the rear.
“Double parked in a field. That’s luck for you,” said Peter. “Can you get one of these hired hands to move this thing?”
She set her briefcase on the hood of the car and traipsed back toward the house. What a gentleman. Her shoes were not made for this environment. The muck even reached the top of her foot, the cool mud leaking into her shoe. She bent down to inspect the damage.
“Thought you’d be back in the city by now.”
Robyn looked up into those familiar dark eyes. “I’m heading home soon. I said I still had business to finish.”
“Guess you did.” He licked his dry lips, looking down at her with no emotion on his face.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” she said, looking around the vast property. Why would he work here rather than on his family ranch?
“Bills need to be paid.”
Peter came out to meet them. “What’s going on? Do you have the keys for that pick-up truck?” he asked. She noticed the moment Peter recognized Parker, and she didn’t like the smug look on his face.
“You have business here, too?” asked Peter. “Is your brother with you?”
He shook his head.
“You’re quiet now. Let me guess, you work for Mr. Palmer?” Peter chuckled, and Robyn cringed. She’d usually laugh along with him, now it all felt wrong. “If he doesn’t keep up with minimum wage, you let me know. I’ll have my legal team look into it.”
“We should ask for the keys in the office,” said Robyn.
“Right. You wouldn’t have the keys to the trucks, would you? You’re just hired to haul the horse shit, eh, boy?” Peter checked his Rolex. “Robyn, could you get someone with the keys? I need to wait in the car. The smell is getting to me.”
Parker hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said a word.
She expected his type to knock Peter a new one. The cowboy was twice the size and made of raw, chiseled muscle. Of course, she’d noticed then and now. She suddenly realized she was more attracted to this working man than the guy earning six figures. It was so out of character for her.
“Sorry about that,” she said.
“Don’t lose any sleep over it, sweetheart,” he said. “I wouldn’t expect any different. You’re all the same.”
Her mouth fell agape, but then again, she’d just fucked over him and his brother. Parker had told her to stay away and she hadn’t listened. It wasn’t like she forced herself on Yukon.
“You don’t know me,” she said.
“I’ve seen more than enough.” He started to walk away.
“Hey, I didn’t see Yukon complaining.”
Parker did a half turn. “That’s because he believed you were a good girl.”
She wanted to shout that she was a good girl, but who was she kidding. Robyn was a mess on the inside, even if she managed to hold her exterior together. Her façade was fracturing like aging china. Of everyone, it was Parker who saw through her bullshit, down to the marrow.
It seemed like a lifetime before they were back on the road heading to their hotel. The surprise visit with Parker had rattled her. She never expected to see him again, and now had to start forgetting all over again. It wasn’t easy when he looked so damn good. Even worse was the way he
made her feel. She wasn’t a bad person—just messed up, trying to make it in the world like everyone else. Robyn didn’t want him to think she was a bitch.
****
Parker set his empty beer bottle on the counter. Marcy walked up to him, resting her hip against the counter. “Problems, honey?”
“You have no idea, darlin’. For my troubles, a beer just won’t cut it.”
Marcy grabbed a shot glass from under the counter.
“Just one?”
She smirked and grabbed another. “Sounds like woman troubles to me.”
He shook his head. “There’s no woman.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” She finished pouring the amber liquid into his waiting glasses.
Usually, some of his friends were at Meg’s at this time of night, but for once he was glad for the alone time. Parker just wanted to drown some of his sorrows in more booze. It was a Band-Aid fix, but it was all he had at his disposal. Seeing Robyn in the flesh again, looking so fucking hot in her tight little suit, brought back all his feelings—hate, anger, lust, and betrayal.
Even worse was being mocked by that little prick in front of her. If Parker had acted on his desire to pound him into the earth, he would have lost his job. He was lucky to get it in the first place, and he didn’t have the luxury to risk it. So, he had to suck it up and take everything the rich suit dished out. Robyn was no different. She’d royally screwed over his brother.
“What are you drinking?”
Speak of the devil. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. In fact, it was haunting his dreams. “Whiskey.”
“A little early for that, isn’t it?”
Parker looked at his watch. It was 6:30. He’d just gotten off work a while earlier and came straight to Meg’s Longhorn. “Whatever.” Then he turned to look at Robyn as she struggled up onto the stool next to him. “Why are you here?”
“I was hoping to run into you.”
He scoffed, swallowing the first shot. “Why’s that?”
“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your brother. I swear.”
“Yukon fucks a different woman every night. You were the flavor of the week, and he sure as hell moved on in a hurry,” he lied. “Why don’t you run home to pretty boy? Country living will eat you alive.”
Rough and Ready (Heels and Spurs Book 1) Page 11