Page 11 of Steal My Heart (Prosperity Ranch 2)

Her eyes widened. “Um, well, your beat-up truck, for one. And,” she scooted her chair back and peeked under the table, “those scuffed-up boots of yours. They’re not for decoration.”

When her gaze met his again, she found that he was grinning. “You’re a smart woman, Evie Prosper.” He stood because she stood. “But you got one thing wrong.”

Her brow quirked. “Like what?”

“No one’s perfect, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes, which made Carson laugh. But there was no smile from her, only a final glance cast at him before she strode out of the library. He folded his arms and watched her go. He guessed her to be about five-eight, and those black jeans of hers made her look even taller. At six-three himself, he appreciated a taller woman.

What was he thinking? Becoming interested in a woman right now wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t know where he’d be in a couple of months. And if he did end up at Prosper as a home base, it was clear that Evie Prosper wouldn’t be there.

Not that he was thinking of her in that way . . . seeing her again had just been a coincidence. One that wouldn’t happen again. Unless she was going home for spring break?

He had no time to wonder such things. He needed to get to Dr. Purcell’s office. He wanted to be there when Devon walked in the door, if only as a reminder that Carson knew the truth, and Devon had better man up.

But when he got to the biology department, Devon was already leaving the office.

“How’d it go?” Carson asked, expecting him to slow down, be civil. Maybe even apologize.

But that’s not what happened.

“Stay out of my business, Hunt,” Devon spat as he kept walking down the hall. Within seconds, he was out the door, leaving Carson to stare after him.

Well, then.

Carson shook his head and continued to Dr. Purcell’s office. He found the professor sitting at his desk, leafing through a booklet.

“You’re here,” Dr. Purcell said, lifting his head. His thick brows nearly touched in the center, and his dark gray eyes could be intense, just like now.

“What did Devon say?” Carson asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I assume you put him up to the meeting?”

“I did.” Carson explained what he suspected and how he’d visited Devon the night before. He left out the door-bashing and the near choke hold, but he was sure that Dr. Purcell understood the fuller picture.

“Well, our meeting was technically confidential,” Purcell said, his gray eyes narrowing. “But for your information, Devon denies cheating.”

Carson scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Really?”

“But . . .” Purcell hesitated. “Let’s just say he got the fear of God put into him.” The edge of his mouth lifted. “I went down the list of all he could lose, now and in the future. I think you’re going to see a different style of paper in his final project.”

Carson wanted to slam a fist into the doorframe. Devon was such a punk. If he’d just owned up to his cheating ways . . . There would be some discipline, yeah, but Devon could rise above it and reform.

“So we’re back to square one with Devon?” Carson asked.

“I hope not,” Dr. Purcell said. “He knows what we suspect, and that might possibly be enough.”

Carson gave a curt nod. “All right, then.” He paused. “I’m leaving early on Saturday, but I’ll get any grading done over spring break that’s needed.”

“Ah, going home for the week?”

“Not exactly,” Carson said. “I’m going to check out a place that might be my future job.”

Dr. Purcell nodded. “Great. If you change your mind about needing a letter of reference, let me know.”

“I will.” Carson left the professor’s office then. Devon’s actions were frustrating to say the least. That pompous—

“Hey, Hunt,” someone said, and Carson looked up.

“Hi, Brad.” The kid was in the biology class that Carson was the TA for. Brad was smart, and he’d definitely have a future in the medical field if he chose to pursue it.

The two passed each other, and Carson continued to the empty classroom. He’d spend the next hour doing research on a case study for one of his group projects with the MBA program. He was in charge of the financial analysis that would tie in the recommendations his group would give about restructuring an athletic company. All fictitious, of course, but it was an interesting project. His grandad might enjoy hearing about it.

Carson veered into a short hallway with the drinking fountains in order to fill up his water bottle. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a woman sitting on the bench on the other side of the drinking fountain. He stopped, because it wasn’t just any woman. “Evie?”

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