Page 41 of At the Rancher's Pleasure

“But you’re spending all of your time in bed with a hot, younger guy.” Jaynie nudged her and grinned. “Relax, Sarabeth, it’s all good. But I am stupidly excited to hear you are staying in Royal. I thought you’d be heading back to LA.”

She took a sip from her glass and sighed as bubbles popped on her tongue. “My kids are here, and I’m enjoying getting to know them as adults. And little Ben, well, he’s stolen my heart.”

“And there’s Brett.”

Sarabeth opened her mouth to respond, but her tongue refused to form the words. Yeah, Brett was here, but he shouldn’t be a factor in her choice to stay in Royal. They were bed-buddies, that was all. Jaynie turned away to greet someone else, and Sarabeth looked across the room to where he stood with a few of his fellow Texas Cattleman’s Club friends, guys his age. Their wives and girlfriends were a good two decades younger than her, some pregnant, some with children already. They were starting their lives together, but she’d walked that path and read that chapter.

Brett once mentioned, in passing, that he wasn’t interested in having children, but it wasn’t a subject she’d pursued...

Because they were just sleeping together, scratching an itch, having fun.

Sarabeth stared down into her champagne glass, thinking that she’d tried really hard to put some distance between them, but she’d yet to manage to corral her helter-skelter emotions.

She wanted a life with Brett.There, she’d admitted it, and she braced herself for the wave of terror that always accompanied the thought of putting her happiness in someone else’s hands. Why was life testing her like this? Why did she have to crave this man, ten years younger, so much? Why did the thought of walking away from him tear the fabric of her being apart?

By entertaining any thoughts of love and a future together, she was walking across an emotional land mine primed to detonate in her face. If she allowed herself to hope and dream and want, he’d destroy her when he walked away. Because he would walk away; that’s what mendid.

But the truth was that she was crazy in love with a much younger man and she was scared to death. Scared that their age gap would eventually cause problems, that the wild love she felt for him was too feral and overwhelming and would eventually scare him off.

But regardless, he was what she wanted. Forever.

Sarabeth placed her hand of her sternum and tried to push away the visceral fear causing goose bumps to break out on her skin. She could almost taste her grief, feel the tears sliding down her face as he told her it was over. How could she carry on walking this path knowing that it would end? Was she a fool for carrying on when she knew what her future held?

If she were wise, she’d bail now,tonight. She should walk away before he could decimate her heart and scatter it to the wind. If she called it off, it would be on her terms—she’d know it was coming and she wouldn’t need to live in a perpetual state of fear wondering when the ax would fall.

She’d be in control. And damn, control was important. She’d never allow another man to dictate what shape or form her life would take.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Sarabeth turned at that still-familiar face and looked into the malicious eyes of her ex-husband.Excellent.“Rusty.”

Rusty gave her a long up and down look that made Sarabeth grit her teeth. “You’re still looking good, Bethie.”

She hated that name, the one her mom used to call her in her sweet, cajoling, baby-doll voice.Do it for Mama, Bethie.

You’re so pretty, Bethie. Why do you need an education when you have a face like yours?

Stop reading and start practicing your talent. Smart girls don’t come first, Bethie.

“It’s Sarabeth,” she told him and added a silent “moron” to the end of her sentence.

“Since you’re still using my last name, I can call you any damn thing I want,Bethie.”

Sarabeth cocked her head to the side and held his hard stare. “Can you get to the point, Rusty?” she asked. “Because we are attracting a great deal of attention.”

Rusty looked around the room, and it was a testament to his power that many conversations instantly resumed and few people had the balls to meet his eyes. Brett, she noticed, was one of the few who kept his eyes on her ex-husband’s face, who refused to look away. Sarabeth saw his raised eyebrow, the question in his eyes—do you need me to come on over?—and answered his silent question with an infinitesimal shake of her head. If she was going to stay in Royal, she and Rusty would run into each other often, and she needed to be able to deal with him and not have to rely on her big, brawny, younger lover for backup.

Besides, she was going to break it off with him, and she’d be on her own.

Rusty gripped her elbow and steered her toward the French doors that led out onto the balcony. She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp, but he maintained his grip and soon they were standing in the frigid air. Sarabeth, never a fan of the cold, shivered in her short, sleeveless cocktail dress.

“Cold?” Rusty asked.

Of course I am, you jackass.

“Do you want my jacket?”

“I’d rather be bitten by a rattler,” she tersely replied. “Say what you want to say, Rusty, and make it quick.”

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