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“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Lottie unlatched the saddles from our horses as I opened my texts. I knew service could be spotty on the ranch, but to miss that many notifications? Then again, I’d been preoccupied.
Get to Dad’s office. NOW.
Fred’s text sent a shiver down my spine. Whatever it was clearly needed to be discussed in person, otherwise he would’ve just told me what the hell it was about.
“Is everything okay?” Lottie asked, her voice getting smaller. She was softer, dare I say concerned, and the thought of having to leave when I had such a gentle version of her made me want to punch a goddamn hole in the stable wall.
“I don’t know,” I repeated. “I’m sorry, I… I need to go. There’s some kind of emergency back at the office.”
“Oh.” She looked toward the ground, nodding once to herself before turning around and hanging up the saddles. “No problem. I’ll take care of these guys.”
“Thank you,” I sighed. “We can talk later. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I took a step toward the door, but something tugged at me, nagging at my mind that my business with her wasn’t finished for the evening. I didn’t want to leave while things were so calm and good between us. I didn’t want to go back to brick walls and angry glances. And I knew, I fucking knew that the second I left, that’s what would happen.
I stepped back.
Crossing the space between us, I grabbed her by the hand, turning her around to face me. Her breath hitched as she collided with me, her hands on my suit jacket, her chin high and mighty. She was fucking beautiful, even in her mud-covered overalls. I didn’t give a shit if any of it got on my suit.
“Hunter,” she hissed, that wall coming back, brick by brick.
But I didn’t care. I wanted to take a moment, a second, a blip in time to just savor the lack of anger.
I pressed my lips to hers, welcoming her warmth as she reluctantly sank into me. I didn’t care if I was doing it for my own satisfaction. No one else was around and it wasn’t for show, none of it was. Not at Brody’s place, not in Oahu. It was purely because I wanted to, because she was a woman that I somehow hadn’t gotten tired of yet.
Just as her lips parted and she let me in, I let her go, taking a step back and wiping the little bit of lipstick from my mouth. Her eyes met mine, a wide, swirling storm of anger and lust, that same fire kicking up in her that I was getting damn good at igniting.
————
I paid no mind to the strange look I got from the receptionist when I busted through the door, or from the janitor as I jogged through the halls of our office complex. It didn’t matter. Something was clearly wrong, and that was all I had time to think about other than the lingering taste of Charlotte’s mouth.
I threw open the door to my father's office. “What the hell happened to you?” Fred asked, stepping around Dad’s desk with a look of pure rage. I’d never seen so many harsh lines on his face. “Did you fall in the fucking mud on your way here?”
I didn’t give him the time of day. Instead, I locked eyes with my father, taking brief note that the nameplate that once read Edward Harris was nowhere to be found. “What’s going on?”
Dad leaned back in his chair, clicking his pen over and over against his lower lip. “We found out about an hour ago that many of our clients have been fielding calls from Jared Keelings.”
My blood turned cold. The panic I had felt before arriving quickly transformed into anger.
Dad pushed a piece of paper across his desk, spun it, and pointed to the very top. “We’ve lost three clients. Apparently, the Keelings got word of my retirement and have been using it against us.”
“How the hell did that get leaked?—”
“That’s their first step,” I said, cutting Fred off before he could go down a path that no longer mattered. “That’s what they do. They turn clients, destabilize the business, and tear it apart from the bottom up.”
My father nodded. “So you’ve been paying attention to them.”
“Of course I have. They’ve been the ones responsible for practically every agricultural fall in Colorado in the last ten years.” I sunk into one of the wingback leather chairs opposite Dad’s desk, earning myself a scathing glare from my brother. It wasn’t like he was the one who would have to clean off the little bits of mud I left behind, though I’m sure there was more to it than that behind the glare. “What are the Keelings saying, exactly?”
“That the Harris company will be shaky at best once I retire. They were able to convince the clients that the change of leadership is likely to bring us to a screeching halt. Apparently, the three they targeted today don’t want to take that nonexistent risk and have signed onto other businesses obtained by the Keelings Group.” Dad held the pen so tight in his grip that I worried it would burst, covering him in thick, blue ink. Wouldn’t be any worse than mud. “Those clients believed they would lose money by staying with us.”
“Fuck.” My fingers tightened around the leather armrest, my knuckles going white. “What do we do?”
