Heart & Hope (Rosewood Ranch #2)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

RUBY

T he second I step out from the car in the driveway of the inn in Great Falls, I see him. Leaning against his black F250. And instantly, the past few months feels like a year. A long, greyscale, boring year.

He’s looking straight at me. Cap on his head, shaggy dark blond hair poking out under it, his green eyes covered by aviator glasses. A pale blue polo shirt accentuates his arms. And is he wearing Levi’s?

Talk about putting in some serious effort, Reedsy. I close the distance between us, and he slides the glasses from his face and drops them inside the truck. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey Reedsy,” I say. It sounds too soft. But the last of my breath disappeared when those green eyes found mine and a smile split his gorgeous face. It should be awkward; we haven’t seen each other for months. But it isn’t.

“Where do you want me, baby?” he says as he tugs me into a hug. Oh yeah, fake husband. How could I forget?

“Ah, you can park your truck by my car, and they will valet it for you.”

He unfolds his arms and leans inside and fires up the engine. It’s loud, really loud. I don’t know much about cars, but that sounds like a V8 or something.

“You want to jump in and run away?” Reed whispers.

I huff an indignant laugh and lay a palm on his chest. “Nope, no can do. Mary-Sue will have my guts for garters. And I really need to have some things ironed out before tomorrow night.”

He tugs the door open and climbs in. “Okay, but if you ever change your mind...”

His truck rolls forward, stopping behind my car. He kills the engine and grabs a bag as he shuts his door.

“I’ll grab my bags,” I say. The trunk swooshes open with the click of a button.

Reed leans in and plucks them up with one hand. “I got ’em, baby.”

He’s sweet. Nothing like the city jerks I’ve dated before. Chivalry is certainly not lost on this man. And when he manages to hold the door open while carrying all three bags, I slip past and give him a shy smile.

We check in, and when Miley hands us two key cards, Reed thanks her in his polite drawl and we head to the elevator. We stand waiting for the silver door to slide open, and Reed steps closer, running a hand through my hair as he dots a kiss to the crown of my head.

“I missed you, Rubes.”

Butterflies fling around my insides like they were shot from a cannon.

Fake husband.

Fake husband.

It’s only for show.

But I missed him, too, and when I open my mouth to tell him, his eyes are shining with mischief and adoration. Good Lord, it is going to be impossible to keep the lines straight between us. “Missed you, too,” I finally say. The words are almost a whisper.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. I walk inside as Reed hauls our bags in and comes to stand by my side. When the doors clunk together, his woodsy scent, something expensive and fragrant, swallows me whole. I turn and put space between us. “You don’t have to be affectionate when no one is looking.”

“Break a man’s heart, Ruby Robbins.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to.”

“Nothing about being around you makes me uncomfortable. I like being around you. But if you?—”

“Oh no, please. You’re the best company I’ve had since Addy up and left me.”

“Oh, yeah right. I forget you two are a thing.” He grins at me.

“Haha. I?—”

“You don’t do people. I get it. I’ve seen you with others. Tell me what you want, Ruby. You have held up your end of the deal. I’m more than happy to hold up mine.”

My face slackens. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was happy to work on your ma’s party. It was my pleasure.” My gaze hits the floor. That weekend will forever be engrained into my memory. Being part of the Rawlins family for a few days was extraordinary. The relationships they have are so real and deep. And I wish...

The heat that floods my face and neck is ridiculous. So, I decide to change the subject. “How’s the new ranch? You’ve been quiet since you moved in.”

His humor fades. “Yeah, it’s been a lot. Harry has a thousand plans and even more jobs on his task board. Some mornings I lie in bed and wish I could go back six months, you know?”

“You don’t like having your own place?”

“I do, but it’s a lot and it’s not?—”

Ding.

The doors swish open. I step out, glancing back at Reed. He grabs the bags and follows behind me. I unlock the door and hold it open for him.

He dumps the bags down and looks around.

One bed.

Guess we are married.

“I’ll take the sofa,” Reed says, kicking off his shoes as he sinks into the too soft, lumpy cushion on one end of it.

“You don’t have to. I can get another room.” I’m sure I resemble a deer caught in headlights right now. I scramble in my tote for my phone.

“And have them think our marriage is on the rocks, baby? Never.”

I chuckle, but it’s strained, and he’s right. It wouldn’t look good. I sink onto the bed and drop my bag onto the floor and flop backward with a sigh. Something hits my stomach, and I sit up. His cap falls into my lap.

“You bought a Yankees cap? Just for this week?”

“Laws sent it to me; told him I needed one.”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, hand under his chin, green eyes studying me. I turn the hat in my hand, running a pink painted nail over the stitching. Reed shifts on the sofa. I bite my lip and hold it out for him to take.

When he slides the cap from my fingers, his brush over mine. The zing of electricity that floods my body with the smallest touch from him is insane. I clear my throat and decide it is as good a time as any to change into jeans and a shirt.

I don’t need to be in these crushed suit pants any longer. I kick off my black pumps and slide the jacket from my shoulders and hang it over the chair at the small desk by the bar, fridge, and TV.

Reed watches as I putter around, unpacking.

“Oh, you want half the closet space?” I ask as I pull my hangers from my larger bag.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

He’s in a daze. And when his Adam’s apple bobs with a rough swallow, I hide my face in the closet and hang each item as slowly as I can. If I glance back at him now, I’m likely to end up on his lap. He jokes about almost everything, but being in close proximity to him makes me feel undone.

And I have rules. Which I intend on following.

No dating.

No distractions. Not in the city, and certainly not here.

Period.

“You want a shower or something after your drive? I can head down the street if you need,” Reed offers.

His words are like a slap to the face. Guess that would be the responsible thing to do. When the sofa creaks and the door opens and closes, I slam my eyes shut.

I have to concentrate on my job.

My reason for being here.

Not Reed.

Or the way my entire body responds to him simply being in the same room as me.

But when I finish unpacking and head to the bathroom to shower the four days’ worth of gas station grime from my skin and travel weariness from my bones, all I can think of as I stand bare under the falling, steaming water is Reed fucking Rawlins.

Rules, Ruby, remember your rules.

For the love of god.

Rules.

Wi-Fi at the inn is patchy at best. I hold my phone up to the air, hoping that will solve my internet problems. It doesn’t. Outside in the café area of the inn’s restaurant, I tap out another email, double-check the vendors for tomorrow night, and recalculate my orders, to make certain I haven’t under-catered.

People mill about, cutlery clinks, and the smell of coffee, even this late in the afternoon, is a comfort. When a figure drops into the chair opposite me at the table, I peer up from my numbers and overflowing inbox to green eyes.

“Do you ever quit workin’?” Reed drawls.

“Some of us need to be on top of things, Rawlins.” I drop my eyes back to the screen and hit reply to a query from a guest. And I tap out a message, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Do you ever take a break, Rubes?”

I snap my focus up. Reed’s face is scrunched under a frown and his arms are crossed over his chest. I sit back in the woven café chair and sigh. “I have to make sure everything’s as planned. It’s my job.”

“Yeah, but you just drove four days to make it back here, and you haven’t seen your husband for ages. Can’t leave a man hanging like that, baby.”

The waitress who also works the front desk at night walks by with a tray full of dirty cups and plates. She smiles at me and then glances at Reed before wandering inside.

Nice one, Rawlins.

“I guess I could have the rest of the day off. I mean, everything appears to be in order. At this point, I’m triple-checking.”

“Good, now let’s ditch this joint.”

He pushes up from the chair and helps me pack up my stuff. As a good husband would. When he shoulders my tote and holds out his hand, I stare at it. We haven’t talked about PDA and what we will and won’t do for this facade.

“It’s okay, we’re just going for a walk.”

I slide my hand into his. It’s warm and snug, like it belongs there. And when he rubs a thumb over the back of my hand and tugs me closer, I force my gaze on anything else but his face. This closeness, the way he is with me, it’s so foreign.

Like he actually enjoys spending time with me, not hanging out purely for whatever he can glean from me. Money. Sex.

Like the guys before him.

“You should ditch those shoes, walkin’ around Great Falls in those is gonna have you in a hospital bunk with a broken ankle. So impractical, Rubes.”

“I like them.”

“I never said I didn’t like them on you. But where we’re goin’, they won’t be sufficient.”

“Okay, let’s go up and change. You always surprise me, Reedsy.”

“That’s my job, beautiful.”

Huh.

Well, fuck.

A breathy huff chokes from my throat as we reach the elevator. Despite my rules and this being a temporary fake relationship, the butterflies in my belly are very real. The way my body responds to him being in the same room as me. Too goddamn real.

When the elevator dings, and he leads us back to our room, I fall back and admire that perfect ass in those Levi’s. The door beeps and we are inside a moment later. I pull my sneakers from my bag and slip them on. Reed inspects one of the black heels I was wearing, running a hand over the four-inch narrow heel like some sort of connoisseur.

“Don’t think they’ll fit you,” I quip.

His eyes meet mine, darkened and piercing. And the heat that washes through my body burns. What the hell is he thinking about?

Breaking eye contact, I slide my phone into my back pocket. “You ready?”

He drops the stiletto on the bed with one hand and runs the other through his hair, arm flexing. His hair falls into his face as he turns and swoops up his cap, fixing it on his head. “Yup.”

We walk in silence all the way to the front desk, where Reed requests his truck. Mary-Sue makes polite conversation with him. He drawls back about his drive out here, making it sound as though he drove from another city, not a couple hours away from his new ranch.

He charms the older woman with a few lines about the beauty of Great Falls and her magnificent inn before his black truck rolls into the driveway.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Reed waves to Mary-Sue, and we head outside.

“Darlin’?” I scoff, getting into the truck as he holds my door open.

“Jealous, Ruby?”

“Huh. You wish, Reedsy.”

He shuts the door, but his face flattens as he walks around the front to get in. The rumble of his truck is deep and heady. And when Reed lets it roll onto the street and accelerates, it’s nothing short of pure thunder. And the smile that blooms over his face tells me everything. He loves this truck.

I chuckle at him, and he turns to look at me. “What?”

I study him for a moment. “It’s true, then, what they say about cowboys and their trucks?”

“I thought it was cowboys and their horses?”

“I don’t know, you seem more of a truck man to me.”

“You got it, baby.”

I smile at him, and he shifts his focus back to the road. Ten minutes later, we are at a park of some sort. He pulls up and kills the engine. The second I open my door, I hear it. Gushing water.

“Where are we?” I call over the hum of the turbulence.

“Giant Springs State Park. Mary-Sue suggested it.”

“So you haven’t been here before?”

“Nope. You wanna wander around?”

“Sure.”

He takes my hand, and we meander down the first pebbled path we come across. The springs are spectacular. Calming and wild all at once. When we reach the edge of the stream that is fed by the springs, Reed releases my hand.

“This is stunning, thank you,” I say.

Reed sinks onto the ground, knees up, and pats the grass beside him. I drop down and pull my phone out, resting it next to me.

“You seemed stressed out.”

“Focused. I don’t stress, I get busy.”

He chuckles.

“Tell me about your new place. The ranch must be something?”

“Yeah, it’s something. Harry thinks so, at least.”

“You’re not happy with it?”

He huffs a strangled breath and plucks at the grass at his seat. I can barely see his face under the cap.

“Maybe. I just . . .”

“It’s not what you wanted?”

He stares at me now, eyes narrowed, mouth a thin line. “I don’t know what I want. That’s the problem. Everyone is moving forward, or already knows. Look at you. Ruby Robbins, career woman. And I can’t even make the first step. I can’t even decide.”

The expression on his face and the defeat in his voice make my heart crack. Like he feels like a failure at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, because what he has isn’t what he wants.

“Well, what are your options?”

“Ranching. Ranching, or . . . ranching.”

“Reed,” I say breathily.

“I’m serious, Rubes. Harry doesn’t take no for an answer. And he’s handed me millions in land and equipment. I can’t walk away now. It’s not an option. I’m all out of those.”

“But if it’s not what you wanted, why didn’t you say something?”

“The old man reads people. Probably figured that’s what I wanted. I mean, I never gave him a reason to think otherwise.”

“Well, his comprehension could use some work.”

Reed laughs and lies on the ground, hands under his head. “You tell him that, baby.”

“Maybe I will.” I roll onto my side, hand propping my head up as I study his face. He closes his eyes, and the only sound is the rushing water and the heartbeat in my ears.

“You want a Polaroid?”

I smile, and when I don’t respond, he opens his eyes and meets my gaze.

“We’ll think of something, Reed. I promise.”

He pulls a hand out from under his head and touches my cheek, thumb running along my jawline. All I want to do is melt into his touch. But I don’t. I hold my breath, counting the seconds until his hand falls from my face.

“It’s okay, Rubes. It’s my lot. I’ll have to deal with it and man up.”

With that, I sit up, knees up, and fold my arms around myself. He sounds like my father now. And I don’t like it. Not one bit. Something about being out here feels so far removed from that single-focused mindset my father has always had. Like out here they know there is more to life than working every waking hour. And I don’t want that for Reed.

I’m used to it. It’s all I know. But somehow for him, I figure that’s a life sentence, not an actual life.

“Hungry?” Reed breaks my train of thought.

“Yeah,” I say, but my voice is weak.

He stands and drops a hand to pull me up. I take it, and he tugs me to my feet. The sun has gone down, and the first stars have poked from the dark grey blanket to the east. The sky is stunning out here. The mountains around us create a border, showcasing everything Mother Nature has to give.

I shiver. The chill in the air is noticeable now.

“Cold?” Reed says, pulling me into a tight hug.

I should resist, but he is so warm, and I berate myself for not remembering a jacket. When my shivers subside, he unfolds himself and drops to the ground in a crouch.

“Ah, what are you doing?”

“Get on. It’ll be warmer, and I can make it back to the truck faster.”

“I, no?—”

“Hop on, Robbins, you’re gonna freeze.”

Snatching up my phone from the grass, I sigh. “Fine.”

I climb on, and he pushes up and takes off into the dark down the path. He’s fast. And I laugh, letting the happiness that he brings rumble through my chest and fill my veins. His long strides see us back at the truck in half the time it took to get to the spring.

He lets me down, breathing heavy, and holds the door open. I turn back as I go to step inside and hesitate, hand suspended between us. His gaze drops to my lips. In the dim light, I could so easily kiss that gorgeous smile. Take his face in my hands and claim that mouth.

But we are friends. This thing between us is fake.

Totally pretend.

Made up.

Not real.

And I am fighting so hard to remember that.

Every single time he is this close.

Every time he opens his mouth with that goddamn cowboy drawl.

Every moment between us that’s deeper than a simple friendship.

I turn back and hop into the truck. The door closes, and I fix my gaze to the windscreen. The driver’s door opens closes as the truck dips a little with his weight. The engine rumbles to life. The headlights flick on. The only thing moving in this truck is our heavy breathing.

The burn of his eyes on me is scorching as I force each fiber in my body to still, resisting the urge to return the look. To touch. To tangle myself around him.

Because the line that wobbles between friendship and much more is blurring at a rapid rate in this head and heart of mine.

No, Ruby.

Rule number one.