Page 32 of Cruel Expectations

After that, he’d find an eager woman and let her take him home for a night.

Even as the thought entered his head, it fled with a hard pulse of need in his cock. A small figure walked in front of the window and stopped.

Christ. Was Ivy looking outside? Was she staring up at the crescent moon hanging low in the sky with a bright star as its companion?

He swung around and yanked open the bunkhouse door. Instead of returning to his bunk, he dropped to the leather couch and spent the next half hour sipping his beer and reminding himself of all the reasons he’d come to the ranch.

It was not to babysit a princess.

It wasn’t to teach her a lesson, no matter how much his palm ached to do so.

It definitely wasn’t to fantasize about what Ivy was wearing when she stood in that window.

If she wore anything at all.

He had to secure the ranch. Find out who had a vendetta against the Gracey family. Though Colton already had a bead on Sean Gracey being a target.

There were only two reasons why a person would go after someone—money or revenge.

It wouldn’t take a lot of digging to find either. He just needed access to the right sources to uncover the truth.

Hunter sat there watching the sun rise. While he tried to keep his brain on task, it kept slipping to something he hadn’t thought about in a long time.

His own family.

God, it was all so long ago. He’d been on his own for so many years, with only his brothers-in-arms to call family. It had brought him across continents, all the way to Montana, to be with one of his best friends in the world—Colton.

Nox didn’t know it, but he’d saved Hunter from self-destruction. He’d come to the ranch at Colton’s call for help—his call to arms—because very few people in the world understood what he’d endured after that failed op.

Colton did. Not only had his buddy witnessed Forest’s demise firsthand, but he’d been there at the final battle. He’d seen them all die.

Hunter admired the hell out of his strength. With Colton as an example, he could draw on his own reserves and stand strong too.

He had to—for his fallen brothers. For Forest. For Colton.

Goddammit. For the woman who needed protection from whoever was threatening the Gracey family—Ivy.

Chapter Eight

The scent of Meadow’s fresh cinnamon rolls broke through Ivy’s sleep haze and had her following her nose straight to the kitchen. Oh yes, she knew she could count on Meadow to come through with her favorite baked treat. She always made them for Ivy’s birthday and even Christmas morning.

After waking at her usual European time, she stood at the window, staring up at the moon until the stars faded to daylight. Still tired, she returned to bed and dozed on and off for a few hours before the rest of the ranch woke.

When she walked into the kitchen and saw the handsome man seated at the table with Meadow on his knee, Ivy came to a stop.

Colton’s Stetson rested on the table. And his lips were on Meadow’s throat as if she were the scrumptious treat instead of the platter of warm cinnamon rolls.

Her sister had her head tossed back, a giggle on her lips, as her boyfriend sampled her for breakfast.

Ivy had two choices: back out quietly, return to her room and forget about hot cinnamon rolls…or give her sister a hard time.

“Get a room. People need to eat in here.” She strode directly to the coffeemaker and poured herself a steaming mug.

The couple making out not three feet away stopped what they were doing and looked at her.

“You’re up early. We thought you might sleep in.” Meadow didn’t bother climbing off Colton’s lap as she addressed Ivy.

“Actually,” she leaned against the counter, cradling her mug, “I’ve been up since sparrow-fart.”

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