The Rancher's Second Chance (3 page)

Second, seeing his friend put the moves on Melanie put him in a foul mood. It shouldn’t bother him, and yet it did. This knowledge pissed him off even more. Gage even had the nerve to invite himself to her apartment if the weather didn’t improve. Like his friend would ever be too afraid of driving in a storm. No, Gage was looking to move in on Mel. Melanie was…definitely not his type, so why it bothered him made no sense.

He walked quietly down the hallway toward the linen closet, careful not to make enough noise that Mrs. H would hear him. The washroom door was shut and he could hear the water running. Melanie must have been inside. Mrs. Harris was really off her game tonight, all these mistakes. First his towels, then choosing the only room without an en suite for their houseguest. He wondered if her age was finally catching up with her. He opened the linen closet next to the washroom, frowning as a stack of familiar towels threatened to tumble out. It appeared as though someone had just stuffed them in there and shut the closet door. He really was going to have to start paying closer attention to Mrs. Harris. The thought of her going downhill was disturbing.

He grabbed the towels just as the washroom door swung open, and Mel stood there, wearing something he knew he’d never be able to forget. His mouth went dry at the sight of her. Dammit. Every single gorgeous feature that he’d been trying to ignore was glaring at him like a neon sign.

He stood there, for the first time in his life wishing he could be a liar. A man who hid. He took in the wet hair, which fell in soft waves to her bare shoulders. Her shoulders were bare because of the lacy, tank-top thing she was wearing. It was low-cut and revealed a jaw-dropping amount of creamy cleavage he wished to God he wasn’t witnessing. Melanie coughed and he quickly looked up to meet her eyes, scrambling for a voice. Except her eyes weren’t on his. They were trailing over him. Standing there without a shirt on, with a woman like Mel dressed in next to nothing, in a dark hallway at night, made blood thunder through his veins so loudly it drowned out all thoughts of why he couldn’t have Mel.

“Sorry if I startled you.” Her voice was low and slightly husky with the tiniest twinge of vulnerability. It was a dangerous combination.

“You didn’t startle me,” he said, shutting the closet door. He should focus on something else, but all he wanted to do was look at her. If he were the optimistic sort, he’d take a moment to relish in the fact that for the first time in years he was noticing and responding to a woman. She was nothing like Sarah. Melanie was petite, like small enough that she’d be able to tuck her head under his chin. And she was curvy, enticingly curvy in all the right places. Her eyes were green, a deep, dark emerald color that to him always seemed filled with secrets. She’d always been kind of quiet, and he’d always been aware of her on some level.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll get back to my room,” she said, her face turning an enchanting shade of pink.
Enchanting.
When had that word entered his vocabulary? At least he hadn’t said it out loud. He realized then that he was staring. She probably thought he was an ogling jerk, checking out the cleavage of the houseguest.

“Sorry, I just never realized…” He scrambled for something to say. He was an idiot. Totally out of practice. He used to be able to just look at a woman and have her saunter over to where he was standing in the bar. Now he was like a pervert hiding in the shadows.

She crossed her arms in front of herself, probably trying to hide parts from him he really shouldn’t be seeing, no matter how much he found himself wanting to. Her movement sent a delicious amount of flesh swelling over the already low neckline.

“Never realized?” she asked.

What the hell are you saying, man?
He needed to end this undercurrent of whatever the hell it was that he’d started.
Crap.
Never realized. Never realized…how beautiful she was. How sexy. How…

Her full lips had parted and desire slammed him in the gut and exploded through his body. It was time to shut this down. He cleared his throat. “I never realized how short you are.”

He was the biggest ass. An idiot.

“Short?” She began tapping her foot, and he made the mistake of looking down, his gaze trailing over the smooth, silky bare legs.

He swallowed hard and then looked up at her, giving a quick nod.

“Thank you. I’m glad you have come to the realization that I’m short. I’ll just walk back to my room as quickly as my short, stubby, little legs will allow,” she said, turning to pass him.

He reached out to grab her arm and caught her hand instead. A jolt of something rattled him when her soft, warm hand filled his own. He stared into her green eyes and caught the awareness that filled their depths. This could go nowhere. Ever. He had to remember that. He needed boundaries. Space. She needed to go home tomorrow.

A soft
click
interrupted the silence, and he whipped his head around in the direction of the noise, just in time to see Mrs. H’s tight, gray curls disappear into the doorway that led to her third-floor suite. He cursed inwardly. Of course. His housekeeper wasn’t going senile; she was playing matchmaker.

“Good night, Cole,” Melanie whispered, tugging her hand free from his.

He nodded, dropping his hand to his side. “‘Night.”

Cole waited until she closed her door and then marched back to his own room, towels in hand. Ten minutes later he was showered and settled in bed and staring up at the ceiling, wide awake. He glanced over at the picture of Sarah, the moonlight highlighting her smile. He replayed his last days with Sarah, all her pleas for him to find someone. He replayed the lie he’d told her. For five years no one had come into his life that made him want to open himself up again. For five years he’d been able to look at attractive women and not respond. Until tonight.

He cursed out loud and tried to fluff his pillow as sleep eluded him. He ended up punching it a few times instead and then fell back on it, in a worse mood than before. He was just going to avoid Melanie tomorrow. Gage could dote on her all day, since it was obvious he was interested. He would just step back and not interfere. He glowered at the ceiling. He was going to get Melanie out of his head.

Unfortunately, he dreamed about her that night.

…

“Good morning. I hope you had a nice evening,” Mrs. Harris called out the second his foot entered the kitchen.

“Mornin’. I hope you had a nice evening, too. I know hustling up and down those stairs must be tiring,” he said, pouring a cup of fresh coffee as he settled himself at the table. He watched with satisfaction as Mrs. Harris’s full cheeks turned bright pink.

“I’m just fine, just fine. But I wasn’t going up and down the stairs. Just stayed in my room, minding my own business.” She spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate and placed a few pieces of crispy bacon right beside.

“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning back in his chair as she moved around the room.

“I do hope Melanie was able to sleep well,” she said, her eye still on him in what he assumed was supposed to be an inconspicuous glance. She didn’t pull it off.

“If she didn’t freeze to death in that skimpy outfit you gave her.” His teasing was to his own detriment, because even though Mrs. H was choking on her coffee, he was now plagued with the image of Melanie in the hallway. He’d had the worst sleep in a long time. This morning he’d woken up vowing to put aside his thoughts of Melanie. He’d let his friend make whatever play he wanted, and then Cole would just go back to living his life. Besides, after Cori got married, he and Mel would rarely run into each other.

“Well, it was all I could find on the spur of the moment,” she said, placing a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table.

“Sure it was.” He chewed the bacon, his eyes narrowing when Mrs. H sat down in front of him. She never sat down for breakfast; she was usually bustling around saying she had too much to do.

“I just love that Melanie,” Mrs. Harris said with a sigh.

Cole groaned inwardly. He knew exactly where this conversation was headed. One-way ticket to hell for him. “Well, I better get out there.”

“Nonsense; it’s Saturday and you can take a few minutes to sit and chat. I have half a mind to serve you some more bacon with a hefty side of love advice, young man,” she said, refilling his mug. He leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of coffee.

“Don’t need any.”

“These mornings sure are lonely just you and I,” she said, smoothing the already perfectly pressed place mats. “It will be so nice having Mel join us today.”

He shoved a forkful of eggs in his mouth, deciding he’d better ignore the comment.

She wasn’t having any of it. She leaned forward, curly gray hair even more tightly wound. “You have to find yourself a woman. You can’t be hanging out with an old lady every night.”

Cole put down his mug. “Had a woman. Don’t want another one.”

“You’re too young to think like that.”

“It doesn’t matter how old I am; I know what I want and I know what I need. I needed and wanted Sarah. And now she’s gone. So I have no interest in finding something I can never have again.”

“How do you know if you haven’t tried?”

Cole sighed harshly. Mrs. Harris was like a mother to him. She’d been at the ranch for as long as he could remember. She’d coddled him and his sister when their parents died, even though he’d been an adult. She’d force-fed him and seen him at his worst when Sarah died. They were family in every way that mattered. They ate together; they even drank together. But there were certain topics he didn’t want to discuss. Sarah was one of them.

“I don’t want to try—”

“You should. You are a young man, and young men have…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes shifted to the left. “Certain
urges
.”

Holy hell. He couldn’t believe where this conversation was going. It was way too early in the morning for this. There was no time of day that would be appropriate for this. He hurried up, his fork scraping against the plate as he piled up the remaining eggs. “I have no problem getting my ‘urges’ taken care of. It doesn’t mean I need to find love.”

“Cole William Forrester, your mama would not have approved of you paying for sex.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to erase those words from his mind.

“Who’s paying for sex?”

Cole’s head shot up, and he glared at Gage as he sauntered into the kitchen.

“Come and sit down, darling, I’ll fix you up a plate,” Mrs. H said, pushing her chair back with her knees.

“Thanks,” Gage said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as she jostled over to the stove. He entertained the idea of telling Gage it was time he found his own damn place to eat. He couldn’t, obviously, but right now he was tempted. Gage had been like part of the family ever since he’d started working at Tall Pines when he was sixteen. He had no family to speak of and whenever any of them would ask him about it, he’d shut down and not say a thing. The closest Cole had ever gotten him to open up was one night after Sarah died. Cole had been determined to drink enough that he could forget Sarah was dead, and his buddy stood by him and matched him, drink for drink.

During that night, both of them spoke about the past and feelings and things neither of them would ever contemplate sober. Mrs. H and his sister found them passed out the next morning. He’d been sprawled out on the sofa and Gage had been lying on the coffee table. That was the last time either of them got drunk in the house. The lectures they endured about alcohol poisoning the next morning were worse than the hangovers.

“So, what’s this about paying for sex?” Gage asked, digging right into the food on his plate once Mrs. H had settled into her seat.

Cole dragged his hands down his face. “No one is paying for sex.”

“I was just telling Cole here that it’s time he found himself a woman.”

“Agreed,” his friend said, his mouth full of food. “Listen, buddy, you don’t have to pay for it. I’m sure I can find some woman, somewhere who’d be willing—”

“Shut up.”

“You gotta get a life and stop hanging around Mrs. H all the time.” He looked up at her and grinned. “No offense.”

“None taken, my dear,” she said, patting his hand.

He shoved his plate of food aside. “Thanks, but I had a good woman once. Not looking to replace her.”

Gage leaned back in his chair. “Of course you can’t replace her. No one is talking about finding another Sarah. What about Hot Mel?”

“Her name is not Hot Mel,” Cole said. He didn’t like that one bit.
Hot Mel.

“Well, she’s hot and her name is Mel.”

“She’s not my type. Too high maintenance.” That was one of the reasons he couldn’t entertain going out with her. He’d thought up that reason at 2:01 a.m. It was a good one. He knew from Cori that her family was extremely wealthy, extremely highbrow type of people. Nothing like his family. They may have had money, their business was extremely profitable, but there wasn’t one day that went by that was without hard labor. Right from when they were old enough to help out, their father had them out there like any other cowboy the family employed. Even their mother, who’d been petite, had had the kind of strength that could rival someone twice her size. And that’s what you needed out here. Strength.

“She’s not,” Mrs. H said. “I’d say spirited.”

He quickly scrambled for a rebuttal. “Spoiled.”

“Now I never had you pegged as the judgmental type, Cole. You might be surprised by her. Not everything is as it seems.”

“Did she or did she not go to private school with Cori?”

Mrs. Harris gave him a terse nod. “Correct, but so did your sister. You wouldn’t ever say that Cori is high maintenance or spoiled.”

“True. But the only reason Cori went to that stupid school was because our parents decided she needed a better education because of her learning disability. Not for prestige. And she didn’t board there; she came home every day.”

She crossed her arms. “Well still…”

“Melanie comes from old money. She wouldn’t know the first thing about life out here.”