Authors: Teresa McCarthy
Fritz’s
nose twitched. “And tarnation, you stink. I can’t help it if you decided to
work in those stalls of yours before you came here, or maybe you came from some
dang rodeo, but this room ain’t yours anymore.”
The
older man looked at Annie and winked. “This room is occupied. If you’d come
through the front door like any civilized man, I could have told you that.”
Max’s
steely gaze raked Annie from head to toe. His jaw beneath that black beard
visibly tensed as he shifted his glare back to his father. “I lost the key. I
told you that little fact yesterday when you forgot to tell me about my living
arrangements or lack there of.”
He
angled his head toward the stairs. “The front door was locked. I didn’t want to
wake Hannah in her condition, so I decided to come through the open window.”
One
scrutinizing eyebrow rose as he turned his attention toward Annie. “A stupid
thing to do for a woman, leaving a window open. Didn’t you learn anything in
that city of yours?”
Annie
gasped in outrage. “Why you–”
Fritz
stepped in, interrupting the heated exchange and spoke to his son. “You think
you can jump right back into this family again, do ya?”
The
cowboy rolled his eyes, combing a stiff hand through his blue-black hair. “Not
this again. This conversation you want to have has nothing to do with my
sleeping arrangements. Can’t you give me a break?”
“No,”
Fritz spat out.
Annie
cringed, wanting no part of this family feud.
Besides,
one glance at Max Clearbrook and his tall, powerful frame told her he was
dangerous in more ways than one. She’d known that the first time she’d met him.
“Listen,”
she said, “I’ll go downstairs and catch an hour or two on the sofa, Fritz. No
problem. Tomorrow, I can find a hotel.”
Hotel?
She barely had any money left, but they didn’t know that.
“No,”
the cowboy snapped, his boots stomping toward the door, leaving a trail of
melted snow in his wake. “
I’ll
sleep on the sofa.”
“Really,
I’ll
sleep on the sofa,” she insisted, trying to step in front of him.
“In fact, I don’t know if I’ll sleep anyway—”
Max
reached out and steered her toward the bed. The heat from his touch scorched
her like a branding iron. “City girls like you sleep on beds.” Hard blue eyes
locked with hers. “But don’t worry, these beds don’t have little peas on them
to test if you bruise easily. We wouldn’t want our little princess hurt now,
would we?”
Annie’s
lips thinned in annoyance while he stood there like some warrior ready to
pounce.
At
that moment, she wanted to leave. She didn’t need any more complications in her
life, especially a rich, conceited rancher-cowboy by the name of Max
Clearbrook. And bruises? Oh, she had bruises, but they were deep inside her
soul where no one would ever see them. But he would never know that.
“Fine,”
she said, sitting on her bed in a huff. “Have it your way. You can sleep
outside for all I care.”
He
gazed at her, his expression unreadable. “Glad you see it my way, sugar.”
“You
always get things your way,
Cowboy
?”
Calling
him Cowboy was her frantic attempt to insult him, but it seemed to backfire,
coming out more as an endearment than what it was intended.
He
hooked his thumbs in his front jean pockets, his expression suddenly changing into
a slow, lazy smile. “Just for your information, I usually do get things my
way.”
She
lifted her chin, trying to ignore Fritz’s intense interest in their
conversation. “I take it,
usually
is the operative word here.”
“Take
it anyway you want, sugar. I need a shower and a few hours sleep, so I’ll leave
you...for now.”
He
hooked his rope around his arm and swaggered toward the door. “Sweet dreams.”
Taking
a step into the hall, he spun around, his gaze pinned on Fritz. “And close that
d–darn window! Who knows what kind of animals could climb in.”
A
dog howled in the distance, and Annie let out a snort.
To
her surprise, Max shot her an irresistibly, handsome grin, and then he was
gone.
Annie
drew in a deep sigh. “Sorry, Fritz.”
“No
reason for you to be sorry, honeybunch. I’m just sorry about Max. Boy’s a bit
wild. Been that way all his life. Never could settle down.” A look of sadness
crossed the older man’s face. “Been the bane of my existence.”
“I
didn’t intend to start a family squabble,” she said, feeling a bit guilty. “He
just scared me, coming through that window like a thief.”
“That’s
Max, honeybunch. Always does things the hard way. Now, you get back to sleep
and forget about all this. You went to bed too late last night and need your
beauty sleep. I might have, uh, forgotten that Max talked to me yesterday, so
some of this is my fault.”
He
gave her a wink, and with broken mountain cane in hand, he turned to leave.
Annie
raised her brows at the slight shake of his shoulders as he closed the door.
Either the older man was laughing at her or something else was terribly funny.
Whatever it was, it didn’t bother her as much as his youngest son did.
Sighing,
she picked up the black Stetson resting near the foot of her bed and frowned.
For a second, her heart fluttered at the memory of Max Clearbrook. His
twinkling blue gaze had left a burning stamp upon her heart and her mind.
You’re
crazy, Annie. One hundred percent crazy to have a crush on a rascal like him.
With
a scowl, she threw the hat onto the antique desk in the corner of the room and
plopped back into bed. She refused to let her heart be hammered to a pancake
again, especially over a crazy cowboy. She figured there was a small chance she
would see him again since she was staying with Hannah, and she told herself she
was ready for that. But she had never been ready for him coming through the
window!
Max
Clearbrook was as insane as the first time she’d met him in Chicago. The wild,
irresponsible cowboy hadn’t changed a bit.
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