What would have happened if I hadn’t listened to Clayton and Katie and just made the decision to sell the ranch? The thought makes me sick to my stomach. If I had done that, effectively destroyed this place, and then discovered after how wonderful it is, I never would have forgiven myself.
Even if nothing more happens between Clayton and me—my stomach tightens at the possibility of never feeling his cock or his body again—the sacrifice would be worth it to save this place.
But what happens later? If Clayton and I aren’t together…there’s no more family. Or what if we have children with other people? Would the ranch go to his children or to mine? The thought unsettles me, and I push it out of my mind until I’m thinking about nothing but the perfect water, the light scent of lavender and how lovely all of this is.
I drift, barely realizing how tired I am until the bath is nearly cold. I need a nap. Pain ripples in my thighs as I stand, but my legs hold me as I wrap myself in a towel and drain the tub. It doesn’t feel right to sleep in his bed. Not when I have no idea where we stand. Instead I move down the hallway to the bedroom where he first carried me, stretch out onto the clean sheets and drift into a perfect, exhausted sleep.
7
Clayton
I have to get out of the house. There is no way that I have the self-control to watch Rachel soaking naked in my tub. I know that if I stay, I will haul her back out of it in record time and drag her back to the bed because fuck. I already want more of her. Thankfully there’s a whole ranch out my front door that needs my attention.
Through all the chores and taking the horses back across the ranch to the stable, I’ve been half-hard. I obviously didn’t shower, so her cinnamon scent is still on me, in my nose, in my thoughts.
I throw myself into tasks to keep myself away from the house. The stables—we have five of them—need new coats of paint. And I spend my afternoon making sure that those walls are vibrant. I don’t finish them all—there is too much surface area for that—but I make a good dent. And handling the tall rollers gives my shoulders a good workout.
The sun is starting to set when my stomach growls. Has Rachel eaten? There’s some food in my fridge, but I mainly eat in the staff dining hall. She probably doesn’t even know where that is.
A surge of guilt pinches my stomach. I needed some space away from her, but I’ve also essentially trapped her in my house. I don’t doubt that Rachel is bold enough to take what she wants, but there is also something soft and vulnerable about her. Something that appeals to me, and that I want to dig deeper into and explore.
On the way back to my house, I stop by the main lodge to talk with Jenna, the woman who runs check-ins and the concierge services for the resort. She smiles when I come in. “Hey, Clayton.”
“Hey,” I say. “There’s a woman who arrived earlier today. Did she have luggage?” She didn’t have any suitcases when she met me at the barn, but I find it hard to believe that she’d show up here without any luggage at a ll.
“Sure did,” she says with a smile. “I was wondering when she was going to come back for it.”
“I’ll take it.”
Jenna grins. “Is she who I think she is?”
I fight not to roll my eyes. When there was first a problem with the will, I called a staff meeting and told everyone about it. I didn’t have much information at the time, but I wasn’t about to go into a meeting blind and then come back with news that they were all being evicted and losing their jobs.
But that also meant that when I came back, I had to tell them that they were safe…and why.
I’d gotten some good-natured teasing about my stranger wife from people, but all in all, it wasn’t too bad. They were grateful that I’d been willing to do that to ensure security for the ranch, and grateful to Rachel—though they didn’t know her—for being willing to let the ranch stay in my hands.
I admitted privately to Jenna what happened. She is the only one that knows everything, but the rest know enough. So when Rachel showed up asking for me, I’m not surprised that Jenna jumped to the correct conclusion. Everyone else we encountered on our ride probably thought she was a guest or just a visitor. But Jenna knows better.
I smile with closed lips. “Yeah.”
Her grin is so wide I’m worried that it’s going to split open her face. “That’s so exciting! She seems really nice. Why is she here?”
Sighing, I say, “We haven’t really gotten that far yet.”
“Gotcha.” A conspiratorial wink.
I shake my head. “Please don’t spread it around. This is strange enough as it is without having an audience.”
Her face grows serious. “Of course, Clayton. I just want to see you happy.”
“And you think that my fake wife is the way for that to happen?” I raise an eyebrow.
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jenna wheels out a large suitcase and hands me a messenger bag from behind the desk. Not bad. “You want a cart?”
“I got it,” I say, shaking my head. The suitcase isn’t that heavy to begin with, and there are maintained paths between the main house and Roscoe House.
Jenna shoots one last knowing glance at me as I head out with Rachel’s luggage, and I pick up the debate again about food. Do I want to tell her where the staff hall is? Is that what she is? Staff? What else would she be?
The image of her beneath
