Page 6 of Paper Horses

“Sounds better than what I’ll find here,” she snapped.

“Eh. At least the screams I evoke are the good kind.” Not the response to give, considering I hated this woman.

With her mouth dropping before she slammed it shut, she went silent as a gorgeous flush filled her cheeks and she looked away.

“Just stay here,” I grumbled without thinking. Her eyes darted back to mine, and I questioned my sanity. A slip that went against my usual gruffness when it shouldn’t have. “The spare room is already made up. I’ll give you a tour of the ranch and go through all the numbers, then you can go back to your life, and I can go back to mine.”

I stepped to the side and gestured for her to come into the house. It wasn’t ideal, but she’d never survive a day in town.

“I thought the deal was off?” she asked, not moving. Suspicion clouded her eyes, making them a shade closer to brown.

“Guess it’s too late now that the ink has dried.”

She looked back down the lane before she sighed and headed for the house. When she was almost on the porch, I said, “Are you forgetting something?”

Motioning to her bags with a nod, I waited for her to retrieve them, but she only looked between them and me.

“No, why?”

Shrugging, I replied, “I just assumed you brought a suitcase for a reason, and won’t you need your laptop?”

It was all I could imagine was in the massive handbag. Why else would someone carry something so big?

“Of course, I do, but you’ll bring them in for me.”

I gaped at her, my jaw twitching. I was certain my eye was twitching as well.

Taking the final step and crossing the porch, she walked past me into the house, her eyes scanning the interior.

“Very country chic,” she muttered, continuing her path to the kitchen where she ran her perfectly manicured fingernails over the island.

She was serious about the bags, and I contemplated slamming the door and leaving them out there, but from the tantrum she had thrown on the phone, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with her wrath.

“Fuck,” I grumbled, tromping out and getting her bags.

I tipped my head to the sky, noting the chill in the air. The sky looked clear, but rainstorms were blowing in from the west, and forecasts showed them heading our way. I briefly wondered if her brother had known before booking this weekend. His wife had been insistent that it had to be this weekend when she’d called me earlier in the week.

Some elaborate plan to force us together? It sounded too far-fetched, but so did the idea of Olivia Icinda in my house. Carrying her bags in, I stomped past her.

“Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll stay. Since I’m sure you won’t carry the bags up, I might as well just take them up.”

“I just got my nails done.”

“Of course you did. Is that the excuse you always use?” I asked, walking toward the back of the house where the stairs were.

“No. The driver usually gets them for me, or the valet, or someone. You’re the only one who’s ever complained.”

My teeth were loud as they ground. I dropped the bags on the stairs with only four steps to go and continued walking.

“What are you doing?” Her voice had a high-pitched squeal that was more amusing than annoying.

“I’m not one of your lackeys, and I don’t work for tips. Carry them yourself.”

“You’re serious?”

“I don’t joke…not anymore.”

I left her there and made my way to the guest room, hearing her annoyed complaints. Maybe she stood there expecting me to return because it took her several minutes to reach the room.