Page 3 of Long Hard Ride
“You don’t even know me. But while we’re on the subject, you should know I have a boyfriend,” I feel a twinge of guilt about lying. We’ve technically broken up.
“Beer?” He turns back from the fridge and tosses me a can of Bud. Shane resumes his alpha male lean against the counter and pops the top on his beer. “Oh, I know all about that piece of shit, darlin’.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong.” No one understands Steve, and I’m sick and tired of it. I take a long guzzle and savor the cool malty taste as it trickles down my throat. This beer is the best thing that’s happened to me today.
“Am I wrong about him serving time for assault?”
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“I guess there was a misunderstanding about his drug possession charge too?”
“It was fucking mix-up,” I shout.
“Nice language for a young lady,” Shane sneers and goes back to his beer.
I let the comment slide. I can use whatever words I want, and I don’t need him correcting me.
“Gramps was just worried that the ranch wouldn’t be kept in the family,” I explain calmly. “He shouldn’t have forced you to marry me. He kept saying that you’d keep me safe. From what? I have no idea. It’s not like I’m in any danger.”
“And you know why he was worried?” Shane’s eyes burn into mine, and my heart does a flip. “Because he thinks that good for nothing boyfriend of yours is going to worm his way back into your life and steal this ranch out from under you.”
“Steve would never do that—”
“Not now that we’re married, he won’t.” I notice a trace of a smile before Shane takes a big gulp. “Don’t worry, Brooke. I’ll keep you safe.” His half-smile is gone, the energy in the room has turned deadly serious. “Whatever comes your way, I promised your grandfather I’d take care of you, and I will.”
The protective tone in Shane’s voice hits me like a bullet, and takes me right back to those summer days when I used to hang on his every word. Even though I’m not the slightest bit concerned about Steve, something about hearing Shane say he’ll take care of me, after all these years, is pretty sexy. I’m temporarily mesmerized by the thought.
The room is pin-drop silent, and somehow I get all tangled up in those blue eyes of his. I’ll bet there’s some underwater treasure hidden in there.
“You two talking about me?” Gramps rolls into the kitchen and parks his wheelchair between Shane and me. Ethel stands stoically behind him in the hall. “Do you mind?” Gramps snaps. Swiveling his chair on a dime, he squints at Ethel. “I knew you were there spying on me.”
She lets out a weary sigh and rolls her eyes at the ceiling. “You hired me to watch you like a hawk. What would have me do?”
“Wait for me in the living room. If I start to croak, these two can call you.”
Ethel gives Shane and me a once-over. Apparently satisfied we’re up to the task of yelling for her, she turns on her heels and leaves.
Gramps rotates back to us. “Now. Let’s go over the specifics, because you’re not weaseling out of your end of the bargain. You listening, Shane?”
Shane sets his beer on the counter. “I’m all ears.”
“Good. Because there will be no funny business. Don’t think for a second you’ll be hightailing it to your place tonight and coming back in the morning. No. You two are married now. The deal is you live under one roof.”
Crap, is this embarrassing. Why does he have to spell everything out like that?
“I wasn’t going anywhere, Chuck.” Shane sounds surprisingly unruffled, considering. “My bags are in the garage.” He smirks. “In case you’d like to check?”
“Just making sure we’re all clear. Brooke, you have any questions?”
I guess now is as good a time as any. “You said it would be okay if I set up my easel somewhere. It won’t take up much space.”
“Don’t be silly.” Gramps’s voice softens. “I’m fully aware I yanked you out of school. Your art is important. The house is yours—wherever you want to set up is fine.”
“The living room has the best light.”
“Put it right in front of the big window, then.” Gramps nods. “That’ll work.”
“Thanks.” Relief washes over me. “I really want to get into that Reflections art walk I was telling you about, and I still have to submit my work to a jury.”
