Page 2 of At the Rancher's Pleasure

And it was obvious that Sarabeth heard the irritation in his voice because she arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “I’m renting your cottage, and the real estate agent told me the owner was away and I was welcome to ride any horse but the stallion. Naturally, I didn’t think running would be a problem.”

Of course it wasn’t. He was just being a moron.

Brett rubbed a hand over his jaw. Holy hell, he’d forgotten that he had a new tenant. He did recall an email from his real estate agent telling him she’d rented his guest cottage for three months. But he honestly couldn’t remember whether she’d told him who his tenant was or, with all the drama, he’d forgotten.

Opening his door, he exited his vehicle, immediately noticing that Sarabeth was taller than he thought, maybe five-seven or five-eight. But he still had five or six inches on her and a whole lot of muscle.

“Was she mistaken? If so, I’ll apologize.”

Yeah, her tone was definitely frosty. Brett sighed and held out his hand. “No, I should be apologizing. Welcome to Heritage Ranch. I’m Brett Harston.”

“Sarabeth.” She placed her hand in his and electricity sizzled over his skin when their palms connected. Yep, he was definitely attracted to her.

Wonderful.He had the hots for the only other person whose return would be as much discussed by the Royal gossips as he was.

Brilliant.

“And I’m sorry for shouting at you for not being in school. I thought you were Stacy, my foreman’s daughter.”

Sarabeth’s smile hit her eyes, and Brett placed his hand on the hood of his truck to anchor himself. Holy shit, that smile! It was goddamn glorious...and every strand of DNA in his system vibrated with appreciation.

He wanted to know whether it tasted as good as it looked.

“Please don’t apologize for mistaking me for a teenager. It’s been a long time since that happened. A very, very long time.”

He didn’t believe that. Oh, he knew that Sarabeth had, maybe, ten years on him but she looked his age, probably even younger. Probably because of her slim build and fantastic smooth, olive-skinned complexion.

She had the type of face, and body, that aged well. Very well indeed.

Sarabeth pulled her hand from his and leaned her hip into his truck. “So, did you have a great honeymoon? Where’s your bride?”

Brett winced. And so the explanations started. “Yeah, I’m afraid I bailed. I called it off the evening before the wedding, at the rehearsal dinner. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”

Her eyes widened and she winced. “I only arrived in Royal last night so no, I hadn’t heard.” She sent him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure the old gossips are in a flutter and are not sure what to discuss first, your botched wedding or my returning to Royal and what apple carts I intend on kicking over.”

Brett jammed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and cocked his head to the side. “And are you planning on kicking over some carts?”

Those fantastic blue eyes held amusement but beyond that, he thought he saw a hint of fear.

“Nope. I’m only here to try and repair my relationship with my son and, hopefully, to meet my grandbaby.”

Right, Sarabeth’s son Ross had recently discovered he was a father and was head over heels in love with his baby’s mama, Charlotte, the executive chef at Sheen, another of Royal’s eateries. Good for him. Love and belonging were things that had always eluded him and even when he was handed it on a platter, he couldn’t take it.

Lexi didn’t love you, and you don’t love her. You were both looking for something that wasn’t really there.

“Well, feel free to do something outrageous so that you can take the heat off me,” Brett suggested, his tone gruff.

Like her outrageous smile, Sarabeth’s laugh made his stomach flip over. “Ah, no. While I’m in Texas, I plan on flying under the radar and keeping my nose clean.”

Brett nodded. “I plan on doing the same,” he said, shrugging, “but I’ve always been a favorite topic of discussion.”

Sarabeth didn’t drop her eyes from his, and he could see the curiosity in her expression. But, to her credit, she didn’t walk through the door he’d stupidly opened. He wondered if she remembered the stories about his mom, the stories about him. He doubted it. When she lived in Royal she probably had her hands full dealing with Rusty and two small kids.

Brett heard a familiar, excitable whinny and turned to see Bella, one of his favorite mares, standing at the wooden fence of the paddock, her beautiful eyes excited. Yeah, here was a female who’d missed the hell out of him.

Walking over to the fence, he ran his hand down Bella’s nose. “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.” He laughed when she nuzzled his pockets looking for carrots before gently rubbing her cheek against his. His horses knew how to suck up. “You’re such a flirt, and you know that carrots are an evening treat.”

Brett leaned his forehead into Bella’s neck and closed his eyes. Animals were so much easier to deal with than people; they were straightforward and uncomplicated and didn’t play games. He didn’t like subterfuge or dishonesty and he was, generally, brutally straightforward.

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