Page 57 of Where She Belongs

Tate didn’t give Alexander a chance to protest as he literally turned the man around and led him out of the barn with a hand to his back—something that royally irritated Alex based on the way he picked up his pace and snapped at Tate not to touch him.

A few minutes later, Tate returned. There was something off in how he carried himself. She wouldn’t have been surprised if his walls were coming up. Tate’s confidence in everything else about his life was through the roof, but when it came to her—things were just different. She fully expected him to demand answers, to ask who Alexander was to her. And she prepared a speech in her head as he swallowed up the distance with his long strides.

“Tate—”

Her words were cut off when he scooped her into a hug and buried his face into the crook of her neck. She gasped, her own hands slipping around the back of his head. His hold was firm and unyielding. His heart thundered against her. And when he pulled back, he framed her face in both of his hands. “I don’t like that guy.”

She blinked, then snickered. “Clearly.”

He didn’t crack a smile. “Something’s off about him. I don’t know what it is, but…” He blew out a breath. “If he shows up again, call me.”

“Tate…” she started with a sigh. She knew better. She couldn’t just dismiss Alexander like Tate wanted her to. His parents were good friends of her aunt. There were expectations.

“I mean it, Rylee. If he comes by, I want to know. I’d feel better knowing you have someone in your corner.”

Her brows lifted. Oh. This was about safety. What she’d mistaken as jealousy was actually protectiveness. And that had her heart fluttering so wildly all she could do was give him a slight nod. “Okay.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Tate couldn’t deny that the second Alexander stepped over the threshold of the barn, he made comparisons. The man was tall and broad, but his suit hid the finer details of his physique. His hair was styled like he was due for a photoshoot with GQ magazine. The way he walked screamed money.

At first, Tate hated just how obvious it was that Alexander could provide a life for Rylee that Tate could only dream of.

Tate wasn’t struggling by any means. His family made a decent living with his business. But there was no way he’d come close to the kind of wealth Alexander exuded.

But then all comparisons fled his mind the second that man sneered. It was painfully obvious how he felt about the barn. Heck, the way he judged Rylee over her decision to live here even temporarily had Tate’s hackles rising.

The last straw had been referring to Tate as the help—especially when he could tell Rylee was uncomfortable.

All traces of insecurity were gone. That man didn’t deserve to date Rylee, let alone be anywhere near her. If she wanted him gone, Tate was going to make sure that happened.

There was only one hiccup.

Rylee didn’t seem too insistent on keeping the guy at arm’s length.

She might have wanted him off her property, but when he suggested she call him if Alexander returned, Tate had felt resistance.

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to leave so shortly after that interaction.

Okay, it definitely hadn’t been a good idea, because now he was second-guessing if he’d done the right thing. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Rylee. Quite the contrary. It was Alexander he didn’t trust.

Tate went about his usual duties. He trained kids in bronc riding. Worked side by side with Jason and occasionally Brent. Faith’s husband was more than capable of reaching the younger kids on levels Tate could only dream of doing. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Brent’s cousins had young kids, and he knew how to talk to them.

Either way, his help had opened up Tate’s availability so he could spend more time with Rylee.

He tossed Brent a coil of rope for their next client and glanced around. “Is Jason back yet?”

Brent shook his head, not even bothering to look up from securing the saddle to their A-frame mock horse. “He said he wasn’t going to be back today. Something about heading to town for a meeting.”

Tate’s brows furrowed. “What kind of meeting?”

At that, Brent looked up. “Didn’t say.” They stared at one another for longer than was necessary and Brent rose to his full height. “I thought the two of you were close.”

“We are,” Tate balked.

“Then why didn’t he tell you his plans?”

Tate couldn’t help but ask the same question. Jason had been absent more and more just as Tate had gotten better at being available. It was like they were playing a game of tug-of-war. And now there were meetings in town he knew nothing about.