The fight was messy, but I won in the end. Barely. Sort of. I lost control of Mare-Mate as the head of the company. But I do still own a hefty number of shares they’ll never get from me. And I kept my ranch. That was the important part.
Except keeping it comes with strings attached. I got to keep my land, up to five years from our divorce. It’s called an “heir clause.” Basically, it gives me time to have a kid who’ll inherit the land. If that happens within five years, Deirdre and Lorne lose any claim. If I don’t, I have to sell and split it with Satan and her pencil-dicked sugar-daddy.
The one extra provision in my favor is that if I’m at least engaged within those five years, the runway gets extended two more years. The only problem? Five years is up next month. Given that I’m passing out naked and wasted alone in guest beds, you’d do well betting that I’m very much single.
Last night, while fixing the disposal, Satan called to rub it in my face. Worse, she’s here, in Cherry Falls. She obviously wouldn’t need to physically be here to rip my land away from me. But she’s here to lord it over me in person.
I’ve never let her get to me like that. But last night? Damn. Last night, I walked out and looked at my ranch and just felt like shit. So one drink turned into three, and then five. Then I stopped counting or using a glass.
I vaguely remember the goddamn disposal giving me one last fight and spewing rancid, stagnant water all over me. I remember stripping off to my birthday suit to finish the job without smelling like shit.
There’s a very, very faint memory of quoting Braveheart at the disposal after I bested it. But the rest is all haze. Judging from my surroundings, it seems I finished the bottle and opted to sleep here instead of walking the whole forty feet back to my house.
Not my finest moment. And now, my new vet’s just walked in on me showing the full monty. I glance down and groan. I’ve even got at least a half-mast of morning wood. Wonderful. She’s probably on her way back to town to file a report and make me a sex offender.
With my head still pounding like a motherfucker, I jump out of bed and lunge for the door. My clothes are still a wet heap in the corner. But I grab a towel from the bathroom and bolt out the door. I stumble and hobble my way around the side of the house, just in time to see an ass that looks pretty much perfect in denim. Except the girl attached to that ass in those jeans is yanking a rusty looking truck door open.
“Hang on!” I wince when I yell. But I keep jogging towards her. “Hang on now!”
She whirls. Her lip catches in her teeth. Her cheeks turn pink. Her eyes drop right down to, well, it’s pretty obvious. But then she blushes even more and quickly looks away. Even though I’m wearing a towel.
“I’m—I’m so sorry,” she blurts. “I did not mean to… I mean—I didn’t see…”
“You’re Tansy?”
Fuck. If this is Tansy—my new live-in vet—I’m in fucking trouble. The girl is stunningly gorgeous: long, dark brown hair, big blue eyes with dark lashes, and these full lips that make my pulse quicken. And if that wasn’t enough, the t-shirt tied off at the waist and the jeans that fit her curves and ass like a second skin finish the kill.
She glances back at me cautiously. She nods, still biting her lip. I wipe my hand on my towel and then extend it, the other still gripping my towel shut.
“Colt.”
She swallows. Her tongue wets her full, pouty lips. Her eyes look like they’re doing their damnedest not to look down again. She keeps her hands to herself.
“Well, nice to meet you, Mr. Patton, but I need—” she wrinkles her brow. “I think this was a bad idea.”
“Look you caught me at a…” I frown. “I didn’t mean for you to walk in on that.”
“Well, whatever you meant with being naked in my bed, it’s really none of my business. I just don’t think this is—”
“I mean, if we’re sticking to facts, it’s technically my bed.”
She arches a brow. I groan at myself. Yeah, I’ve just flashed her the full log and berries, and now I’m splitting hairs?
“Right, okay,” she frowns as she turns back to the truck. “Well anyways, goodbye.”
For some reason, her just leaving like this ticks me off.
“Oh, lighten up,” I grunt.
Tansy whirls back. And that sassy brow of hers arches right back up.
“Excuse me?”
I might be off reservation here. But I stick to my guns anyways. “I said lighten up,” I mutter. “Look, I didn’t mean for you to walk in on that. I apologize, and that’s not a usual morning for me.” I frown. “I had a rough night.”
“Oh, really?” She smiles, her words dripping with sarcasm.
I roll my eyes. “Look, it’s just a dick, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty.”
Instantly, I wince. Shit. Foot, meet mouth. Get fucking comfortable.
Tansy’s jaw drops like a rock. Her eyes widen in—rightfully—appalled shock. “Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Patton,” she says tightly through pursed lips. “Have a nice life. Prick.”
She steps into the truck and slides behind the wheel. She yanks the rusty door shut as I groan. Aside from her being stunningly hot, I really do need her. Chance’s problem needs addressing, now, and Taylor doesn’t have the time. I could afford to bring in a specialist, but I sincerely doubt I’d get anyone here inside of a month.
Bottom line, I need Tansy.
“Look, I’m sorry. You caught me on a real bad day,” I sigh and walk towards the truck as
