Page 1 of Hometown Hottie

1

NOVA

My hands curled into fists at my sides.

What the hell was Frank Louison doing, not so discreetly, taking pictures of my family’s land on his phone? He turned the device horizontal, lifting it up to get a panoramic shot of the ranch with the majestic mountains as a backdrop. Red Stone Ranch had been in my family for three generations. From the serrated mountains that made up our border, to the grasslands where the cattle grazed, and the river that flowed gently through it all, there wasn’t an inch of it I didn’t know.

I knew its secrets, where to find its treasures, and most importantly for the situation I was in at the moment, I knew how to protect it. As I strode through the colorful tents in the parking lot on the edge of the property, I waved hello to some of the vendors who were setting up for our Saturday market, but I didn’t stop to chat.

Later, I would check in with everyone, but right then, I wanted to set Frank straight. He could keep his grimy hands and his greedy eyes off my family ranch.

“This is private property, Frank.” I snatched the phone right out of his hand, scrolled through the pictures he’d taken, and deleted them all. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re trespassing.”

The developer spun to face me with a charming and almost disarming smile on his face. Key word almost. He splayed his hands wide in a show of innocence before extending one to reach for his phone. I pulled back, and he arched an eyebrow.

“Give me my phone, Nova. You want to talk about private property rights?”

I glanced down at the screen one more time to make sure all his photos of my home were gone. Then I smacked the phone into his waiting palm and met his gaze directly. “Here. Take it. And don’t get any ideas going and taking more pictures. You don’t have permission. Now,” I added, nodding toward the parking lot, “please leave.”

He pouted, turning on the playful charm. “Don’t be like that. I came for the market, and the view from here is so beautiful, I couldn’t resist. I’m hardly the only one.”

Inclining his chin toward the shoppers starting to arrive for the day, he pointed out a few different groups of people pausing for selfies before they hit the stalls.

I sighed and turned my gaze back to him, my eyes narrowing. “Those people are here to buy fresh local produce and handmade goods. You’re here for the ranch, and that’s not for sale.”

Frank reached for the sunglasses hanging in the V of his shirt and slid them over his squirrely eyes. “There’s nothing like the smell of fresh bread in the morning. How is that little bakery of yours doing? It seems to have become a popular place for the people around here.”

“It has. Thanks for asking.” I lifted my chin a little higher in the air.

Frank had a few inches on me, but he was a big-city boy with shiny shoes and manicured nails, a transplant who’d smelled the development opportunities in Wyoming and had moved to Silver Springs with the intent to put up high-rises and condominiums.

In other words, he was here to threaten our way of life, and any man with shinier nails than mine didn’t belong anywhere near here. He didn’t intimidate me, and his false charm and idle flirtation weren’t going to fool me into convincing my parents to sell our property to him.

Not. A. Chance.

“I’ll have to come check it out some time,” he said conversationally, that supposedly charming smile back on his lips. “I hear the coffee’s good. Maybe I can buy you a cup and we can talk.”

“You want to buy me a cup of coffee in my own shop?” I arched an eyebrow and scoffed. “No, thank you. Besides, unless the talk you want to have is you telling me that you’re leaving town for good, you and I have nothing to discuss.”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, lowering his head slowly to one side as if trying to size me up. Good luck to you, asshole. They don’t make me in your size—or in any size you can handle.

“You know, Nova, I’m not the bad guy here. In fact, there are a lot of folks around these parts that think of me as something of a savior. Times are changing, and if you refuse to change with them, you’ll get left behind.”

“Yup. I guess I’m just an old fashioned country girl.” I flashed him a tight smile. “If there are people who think of you as a savior, then go bug them and leave us alone. I’m sure they’d trip over their own feet to worship you.”

He turned away from me and waved toward the sprawling land that reached the base of the mountains in the distance. “I can’t leave you alone. What you Murphys have got here is prime real estate. The kind that can fetch your parents the money they need to retire comfortably and to leave a little behind for your kids and your brothers.”

“My parents will retire comfortably right here, thank you very much, and my kids and my brothers will grow up on this ranch just like we did. Stop wasting your time and go find some other rancher to harass. Preferably four or more counties over.”

For the first time today, that suave facade gave way to the real Frank. He yanked his mirrored sunglasses off his face and narrowed his eyes at me, haughtiness written all over his ordinary features.

“You can’t bullshit me, Nova. I’m not one of you simpleton townspeople. I know how business works and I know yours has been trending down for years because your father is stuck in the past. At this point, there’s no way you can even pay the taxes on this place, and I have a client who’s just waiting for your folks to go bankrupt trying to keep it afloat. Your stubborn pride is going to ruin what your family built.”

I bristled. He wasn’t wrong about Dad being stuck in the past. My father was a good man and a better rancher, but he didn’t believe in modern tricks like marketing or even something simple like these Saturday markets.

Frank had struck a chord, but that didn’t mean I had to admit it. My teeth ground together and I held his gaze without flinching. This man with his pretty nails and expensive shoes would never get my help convincing my parents to sell, and that was all he was here for.

“Now I’ve tried being polite, Mr. Louison. Us simpleton townspeople are brought up that way, but since it’s not working, let me try it in fancy, big-city language, shall I?” I pointed toward his cherry-red pick-up with the brand-new tires that had probably never even seen proper dirt. “Take your pansy-ass truck and get the fuck off my property before I go fetch a gun.”