Page 18 of Rocky Mountain

“I’ve got her, Emma. I can drive her home.”

Fleur’s heart pounded too hard from the contact to gainsay him. And the last thing she wanted was to argue with her friend’s brother in front of Emma, who was giving her a juicy contract for a catering job.

So she tamped down the surge of awareness and channeled it all into agitation, glaring at Drake as she stomped across a gravel road to where his pickup was parked near an equipment barn. She waited until he’d helped her up into his truck.

Once he’d closed the door behind her and climbed into the driver’s seat, she whirled on him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Six

Excellent question.

Drake had asked himself the same thing only about twenty times since the offer to drive Fleur home had leaped from his mouth. What the hell had he been thinking when he’d skipped dinner to avoid her, spending the time berating himself for coveting the woman he’d warned his brother against? He was supposed to be finding a way to befriend her enough to convince her to sell Crooked Elm to him, a goal directly in opposition to avoiding the attraction he felt for her.

Grinding his teeth as he put the pickup in Reverse, he kept his focus on the rearview mirror instead of the woman beside him.

“I’m taking you home,” he managed once he’d unlocked his jaw enough to speak. “That’s what I’m doing.”

The sound of her windy sigh expressed the same exasperation he felt. He put the truck in gear and headed for the main road. Walking the back way between their ranches was only about three miles. The county route took longer, remaining on the outskirts of both properties.

“What I mean is, why would you volunteer for the job now, after how awkward the ride over here was?” Her voice filled the truck cabin, feminine and sweet somehow, even through her frustration. It made him think about the confidences shared earlier when he’d pressed her close. “And don’t say it wasn’t, since you went out of your way to disappoint Emma by not showing up for the meal she made. I know it was because you didn’t want to see me.”

He considered the question carefully while the headlights shone a path through the darkness. He’d always liked the lack of ambient light out here, the way the stars seemed closer. But right now, driving Fleur home, he focused on the woods close to the road, alert for critters that could jump out in front of the vehicle.

“I didn’t skip dinner just to avoid you,” he said quietly. “I needed the time to think about what you told me. It changes...things. Between my brother and me.”

When she didn’t answer right away, he stole a glance over at her. She stared out the passenger window, while one finger traced a slow pattern on the pane.

“I hadn’t realized until tonight that your relationship with Colin was strained,” she said at last. “I assumed that once Colin and I broke our engagement, things went back to normal between the two of you.”

How much to say about the heated argument he’d had with Colin that day five years ago? Drake’s first instinct was to keep Alexander family matters private. But given how integral a role Fleur had played—and that she’d be there when Colin returned for Emma’s wedding—he thought it best to share something of what happened.

Besides, he had to start somewhere with building some trust between them.

“Everything came to a head for us the day I heard you two talking about the pre-nup. I told him about my concerns the day before I confronted you.” He didn’t like to recall the argument, but he dredged up some sound bites now in order to paint a picture for her. “My insistence that he was too young to marry and you hadn’t been dating long enough turned into him rebelling against everything I’d tried to do since becoming head of the family. He accused me of planning his life for him. From the college he’d attended to the way he spent his weekends, since I’d expected him to continue pitching in on the ranch.”

Drake had been angry, wondering how his younger brother could have the audacity to suggesthislife had been plotted out for him. Did he honestly think Drake had been able to make his own choices? Everything he’d done had been to protect his brother and sister, to ensure their future. He’d forsaken a college scholarship and all but quit rodeo, giving up any serious pursuit of a sport he’d once been poised to dominate. Staying on the fringes, entering weekend competitions for prize money, had only rubbed salt in the wound of all he hadn’t been able to accomplish.

“But Colin was twenty-three years old at the time, not a kid in school.” She sounded puzzled, but she was facing him again, giving the conversation her full attention. “He was done with college. I thought he really enjoyed working here. We even talked about settling in Catamount for good.”

Did she know how wistful she sounded? he wondered. The idea reminded him of his responsibility in breaking them up, and the new sense of guilt mingled with resentment that she should want Colin while Drake couldn’t help thinking abouther.

Turning onto the main road, his grip on the wheel tightened.

“Perhaps he only said that to be agreeable.” He couldn’t help the harshness in his tone. “He’d told me more than once he wanted out of the family business. I assumed it was because he disliked cattle ranching, so it came as a surprise when he bought his own spread two states away. Turns out it wasn’t the work he objected to. Just me.”

Despite everything he’d done to ensure his siblings were secure after their parents died. Colin had been fourteen at the time. He would have gone into foster care if Drake hadn’t given up his own college scholarship to stay at home to oversee things. Not just his siblings, but the ranch, too. Thank God he’d been eighteen then. He shuddered to think what would have happened to all of them if he’d been even one year younger.

He hadn’t expected thanks. He would have never made a different decision. But he would have never guessed that Colin would resent him.

In the silence afterward, Fleur’s hand dropped lightly on his thigh.

“It might not have anything to do with you,” she suggested softly. “My siblings ran to opposite coasts as soon as they could after my parents’ divorce. I don’t think they wanted to escape me so much as the site of their unhappiness.”

He appreciated the idea. Would have found comfort in the words even, except that her hand on his thigh made it tough to think about anything but touching more of her.

His muscle tensed under her palm. Everything tensed, for that matter. His blood ran hotter around this woman, and there was no help for it.

So he was glad to spot the turnoff for her grandmother’s house just ahead. The sooner he dropped her off safely, the faster he could stop thinking about exploring the sparks that flared brighter every time they were together. Another day, he’d figure out how to win her over enough to sell Crooked Elm to him. For tonight, he needed to retreat until he figured out how to deal with the unexpected revelation that a red-hot fire burned beneath their old animosity.

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