Elliott. My name is Annabelle Carter and I live next door. Well, I used to a few years ago, but I’m back now.”
Despite the chiseled jaw and the heavy-lidded gaze, the man’s mouth tipped into a slight grin. “Well, ma’am, Mr. Elliott is busy right now. Is there something I can help you with? A glass of sweet tea? You look like you could use a break.”
Sharing a sweet tea, or anything else with this hunky stranger, was tempting, but not on her agenda.
Annabelle blew out a breath. Mr. Elliott was busy. Of course. Probably at the bank purchasing more properties to add to his collection. A man like Colt didn’t work outside in the heat tending to his own animals and land. That would be too far beneath him.
“You work here?” she asked, crossing her arms.
His mouth twitched again. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then give your boss a message.” She may not be able to talk to the man himself, but she would leave her mark—and she didn’t mean the broken fence. “I’d like to talk to him about my ranch next door and the agreement he made with my father. Please tell Mr. Elliott, when he’s done getting his manicure or finished stealing puppies from children, he will be dealing with me from now on. I’ll be waiting at my house for his visit.”
Because she certainly wouldn’t be showing her face here again.
The stable hand simply tapped the brim of his black hat and tipped his head. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”
His eyes raked over her once more, sending shivers through her despite the Texas heat. “Are you sure you don’t want something to drink? Have a seat on the porch. You look like you could use a break.”
Oh, she could use a break. Like a monthlong vacation somewhere exotic with a fruity umbrella drink full of alcohol and unlimited refills. But she’d just settle for a break from all the pain life kept dishing out.
“No, I don’t have the time.” Not to mention, she couldn’t stay in his presence too much longer. It was difficult keeping her eyes off that broad chest sprinkled with dark hair and the tattoo on his right bicep.
“Is there anything else I should pass on?” he asked.
Since she was in a mood, she nodded. “I’m not a pushover like my father. Make sure you tell him he has twenty-four hours to contact me.”
The “or else” hung in the air, but she had no idea what her “or else” threat would be so she left it at that. She hoped she sounded badass, but it was kind of hard with her bright red car mounting the fence.
The cowboy stepped toward the front of her vehicle, assessing the damage. She didn’t even want to know how this would affect her insurance. One crisis at a time.
“Your little car has quite a bit of damage, ma’am.”
With a flick of his fingertip, he adjusted his hat, bringing that cobalt blue gaze up to hers. The striking color of his eyes only added to his appeal. Did all the stable hands at this ranch have the qualifications to do calendars? Because she wouldn’t mind buying one of those.
“I’m pretty sure this would fit in the bed of my truck,” he muttered around a grin. “Should I haul it next door for you?”
Annabelle ignored his snarky jab. It was only because of his sex appeal that she let the question slide. Besides, she wasn’t here to impress people or make friends.
“I can drive. Thank you.”
She turned to get back into her car. As she started it up again, the cowboy closed her door, then leaned inside the window. “I’ll be sure Mr. Elliott gets in touch with you today.”
Annabelle nodded and shifted into gear. He stepped back, giving her one last glimpse of the fine body she didn’t have time to fully appreciate.
Disappointed that she hadn’t gotten face time with Colt Elliott, Annabelle headed back down the drive and prepared the speech she’d deliver when she did see him. She was done letting life—and men—rob her of her dreams.
* * *
He watched her tiny red car until it disappeared at the end of the drive. Annabelle Carter was one fired-up woman. The vibrant red hair and flashing green eyes had him more intrigued than he should be.
When he’d come around the side of the barn to put Lightning away after his morning ride, he’d caught a glimpse of the car just before it missed the turn in the drive and slammed into the fence.
“Colt?”
He turned to see Josh, one of his best stable hands, heading his way.
“Everything all right?” he asked. At nearly forty, Josh was probably Colt’s hardest worker.
Colt nodded toward the fence. “This is top priority. Tell Ryan to assist you. I’ll put Lightning in her stall.”
Colt almost wished he hadn’t fired a worker last week, but the guy had it coming and Colt didn’t put up with lazy. He worked too damn hard. Just because his bank account had more zeroes than this town had ever seen, didn’t mean he wasn’t a hands-on type of guy—in business and in pleasure.
Josh nodded. “Is the lady okay?”
Speaking of hands-on...
Was she? Colt thought of the way she’d demanded to see “Mr. Elliott.” He nearly lost it when she mentioned a manicure and puppy stealing. She truly didn’t have a high opinion of him, but that was fine. He’d seen the sexual interest when he’d gotten close. She was pretty damn sexy herself.
But Colt hadn’t been ready to tell her who he was until he knew what she wanted. Being mistaken for a worker was just one of the advantages of loving the ranch life. He may be the owner, well, he and his three brothers, but Colt was by far the most active. He took pride in what he had. There was no question of authority around here and his staff respected him. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Keeping in control of every situation is what led him to the success he had today. So, letting Annabelle believe he was just a ranch hand had definitely worked to his advantage. Now he had time to plot, to think of exactly how he wanted to play this situation out.
She said she was back in town, and he hadn’t missed the way she’d looked at his chest. Maybe a little flirting, even a little seduction, would be in order.
Colt mounted Lightning and trotted back to the stable while Josh went to get supplies to fix the broken fence. Annabelle may be more financially savvy than her old man, but that wouldn’t change the outcome.
The documents Neil Carter had signed without taking the time to read were completely legal and binding.
Colt had been wanting to get that land for years. The Carter’s five-hundred-acre farm wasn’t vast in comparison to his, but he and his brothers had shared a vision of owning it. Their main goal was to turn the property into an adjoining dude ranch. The Carter home was perfect for additional housing for guests.
Colt’s father had always been a dreamer, not a doer. He’d discussed owning a dude ranch, having people come to stay on their property and learn the ways of their life,
