Dark blue eyes stared down at me, and a tight band wrapped around my chest at his attention. Without his hat on, he looked younger than I initially estimated. Most of my dad’s business buddies were well into their fifties and sixties. Chase couldn’t be more than forty, though I wasn’t exactly a good judge of age. He was fit, too. The thin denim shirt stretched over his shoulders and rolled-up sleeves revealed strong, sinewy forearms. Despite the cold reception he’d given me, a wave of warmth rolled over my cheeks. I’d never spent time around a man who looked so… manly, I guess. Knowing we’d be sleeping under the same roof sent a shiver of awareness down my spine.
“I’ll get the bags.” He left me standing in the entry and came back a minute later with his hands full of the matching Louis Vuitton luggage set I’d received for my college graduation. “Let me show you to your room.”
3
CHASE
Screw Flint Silverstone.He could have warned me that his daughter was like a fucking wet dream come to life. She was trouble with a capital T-R-O-U-B-L-E. The moment I set eyes on her, my cock took on a life of his own. She’d retired to the guest room for the evening, but I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
She was a curvy little thing. The top of her head barely reached my chin. And those thick, sweet hips. They had me thinking all kinds of thoughts that shouldn’t be taking up any space in my head. At least not if I wanted it to stay attached. No telling what Flint would do to me if he had any inkling of the type of thoughts I was having about his baby girl.
Jackpot didn’t have any reservations about making a move. He’d rubbed against Whitley’s thighs and even got away with sticking his nose into her crotch. Fucking traitor.
I was too keyed up to sit and watch films. Even if I wanted to, my laptop was in my office that doubled as a spare bedroom. That’s where Whitley was, and I wasn’t about to disturb her. I needed to get her the hell out of my house, out of my business, and out of my life as soon as possible.
She might have the face of an angel, but I saw the look in her eyes when I turned her way and she saw my scar. Strangers who hadn’t heard the sad story of how my skull got crushed by a bull on my last professional ride had one of two reactions. They were either fascinated by it or completely turned off. My brothers told me it made me look tough, but deep down I knew it just made me look like the broke down cowboy I was.
The last thing I needed was to see the pity in her eyes every time she glanced my way. I poured myself a shot of whiskey and took it out to the back deck to calm myself down before I turned in. The sun had set a while ago, but the sky still held faint traces of deep reds and oranges.
Spring was my favorite time out here on the ranch. The nights were still comfortable and cool, and the hills were a carpet of blue thanks to the bluebonnets that dotted the countryside. I sucked in a deep breath and let the tension seep from my shoulders.
I’d just started to relax when the sliding glass door from the spare bedroom opened. Whitley stepped out onto the deck. She pulled a short, sheer robe around her shoulders and tied the sash across her middle. Whatever she had on underneath ended mid-thigh, leaving her shapely legs bare.
My chest tightened. I should have said something, but I didn’t want to scare her. I also didn’t want to get into another awkward conversation, especially while she was wearing next to nothing.
She stood at the edge of the covered deck with one hand resting on the post. Hoping she’d fill her lungs with the sweet, scented air then go back inside, I waited. Then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and sat down on one of the rocking chairs that faced the big pasture out back. I should have cleared my throat or done something else to make my presence known, but I stayed silent.
She set her phone on the table and dialed.
“Whit, honey, where the hell are you? I’ve been calling all day.” The sweet southern twang of a woman’s voice came through the speaker.
“I’m at the Rocking H Ranch. I told you I talked my dad into letting me come down and visit. Remember?”
“That’s right. I forgot. I’m out with Rachel and Sophia tonight. We got VIP tickets to that new club in downtown Dallas. I wish you were here. It’s amazing.”
“You know that’s not my scene.” Whitley leaned against the back of the chair. The light from her phone highlighted her profile. She had full lips that looked like they were made for kissing and a cute nose that turned up just a tiny bit at the tip. My fingers itched to touch her, even just to smooth her hair back over her shoulder.
I clenched my hand into a fist. There was something about Whitley that made me want to tuck her against my side to protect her and ravage her mouth with mine at the same time. I’d never felt that way about a woman before. Hell, I didn’t want to feel that way now. My brothers would probably chalk it up to me being a reclusive sonofabitch who hadn’t enjoyed the companionship of a woman in too long to remember. Wherever the feeling was coming from, I couldn’t give in.
“So, you’re at some dirty old ranch in the middle of nowhere?” her friend asked.
Whitley let out a soft laugh. “Not exactly. It’s beautiful here. The drive down was so peaceful, and the bluebonnets are in full bloom. I just wish…” her voice trailed off. I leaned forward, desperate to hear her reveal some deep part of herself.
“What?”
“I wish I didn’t feel so unwelcome.”
“Who’s making you feel unwelcome? Want me to come down there and open a can of whup-ass on them?”
“Absolutely not.” Her quiet laugh tugged at my gut. I was the reason she’d felt so unwelcome. Shame washed over me, and I almost got up and apologized right then and there. I didn’t want to give myself up, though. Not now.
“Don’t they know who you are? Your dad would probably buy the land right out from under them if he even suspected they weren’t treating you like the princess you are.”
White hot rage chased any feelings of guilt away at the reminder of who I was dealing with. Flint Silverstone might be an asshole, but he was still one of the richest men in Texas. If word got back to him that I made his daughter feel anything but adored, he could ruin me. Damn Whitley Silverstone for putting me in this situation.
“I want people to respect me for who I am and what I can do, not because of my dad.” The resignation in her tone diffused the anger boiling in my belly. “You don’t have any idea what it’s like to know people have made up their mind about you before they even meet you just based on your last name.”
Her friend let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re right, Whit. I have no idea what it’s like to have people bend over backwards all the time just to see me smile. It must be so difficult being you.”