a handsome brass shaving kit, she started sizing up the necessary material to wrap it.
“Well, you can rest easy. My next purchase will come with four-wheel drive.” Sporty four-wheel drive.
Angela set down the paper and peered into the screen, her blue eyes fixed but still kind. The look of an older sister. “I just care about you.”
“I know.” It was tough to discard the defensiveness sometimes, feeling like an outsider with her sisters’ twin bond. “And thank you for caring.”
Her sister nodded, continuing her methodical wrapping. Without looking up from lining up the edge of the paper with machinelike precision, she said, “So, what’s the progress with Jesse Stevens?”
“I’ve barely had time to shower, much less make progress.”
“Shower?” She raised a blond eyebrow. “At Jesse Stevens’s house? You’re there now?”
“Yes, and no need to sound scandalized. I was drenched. I needed to change.” She glanced down at her clothes. When was the last time she’d worn sweats? High school maybe. Or middle school. As rarely as she could manage. “But enough about me. How was your date with Ryder last night?”
Her sister had been engaged to none other than their father’s longtime nemesis Ryder Currin, who also happened to be in the running to head the Houston branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. Angela and Ryder had broken up, but were now back together again with Sterling Perry’s blessing. Esme would wager money a reengagement wasn’t too far off.
She just hoped Ryder was really right for her sister. He’d been married twice before—divorced from the first wife and widowed by the second. He had one child from each of those marriages, plus an adopted daughter. All adults. Such a complicated blended family.
Angela deserved to have a man love her unconditionally.
“I never thought he and I would have another chance, but things are good, really good.”
Her blue eyes turned wistful and the smile that warmed her face drew a pang of guilt from Esme over her doubts and concerns.
“I wish I could have been there for us to talk all about it in person over lunch.”
Angela nodded, her smile still present but soft. “That would have been fun, but I understand.”
Her sister leaned back to the pile of gifts—a cashmere scarf, leather-bound books, artisanal reclaimed-wood trays. The silver strands in her chunky gray sweater glimmered.
Christmas was coming at the end of the month and Esme hadn’t even begun her shopping. She wished she had her sister’s love for organization and gift-giving. Maybe then she would feel more connected to the holiday. “If only I’d waited to leave…”
“Dad appreciates what you’re doing for him. This is important.”
Was it, though? More important than being with her sister? She’d tried to convince her dad that this could wait a couple of days, but he’d insisted. And she hadn’t stood up to him. She’d even had the weather as an excuse and she hadn’t taken it.
“Well, I’ll be back in Houston before you know it. We can have brunch and chat over mimosas.”
“That would great. Just let me know when you’re finished there and I’ll line it up with Melinda, too. We’ll definitely need to make it brunch and not breakfast, since Melinda still gets morning sickness.” She chewed her fingernail thoughtfully, then added, “Perhaps we could include Tatiana, as well, if you don’t mind.”
Esme bit her lip to keep from blurting how she wanted to do things on her own with Angela, without their sister, much less Angela’s bestie, Tatiana Havery.
Tatiana, a vice president at Perry Holdings who specialized in real estate, had been going through a tough time ever since it came out that Willem Inwood was her estranged half brother. And now that he’d been arrested last week? It would be petty to exclude her.
“Mimosa brunch with you, Melinda and Tatiana. Count on it. Maybe we should invite Ryder’s two daughters. I could get to know my future nieces better.” She chuckled at the irony of that, since Ryder’s daughters were both adults. There was an age gap between Ryder and Angela, but since her sister didn’t mind, then who was Esme to judge?
“Okay, then. I will.” Angela fluffed her golden-blond hair, surveying the mess of ribbon and foil paper strips around her. “All right, sis, I need to clean up this mess. Thank you for checking in. Please stay in touch.”
“I will, just as soon as I have something to report.” Esme waved before signing off.
Sighing, she swept her hair into a loose topknot. Casual glam, she told herself.
Time to face her sexy host and try not to wonder if a kiss from him would taste of peppermint schnapps.
Jesse stared out the kitchen window at the water pooling outside, covering the driveway. As the storm continued to rage, he was glad he’d reached Esme when he did.
No denying it, the woman who’d crashed into his life this evening had made quite an impression. He thought about the way her wet clothes clung to her, outlined her shapely body.
Not that she was his type. Too city. Too polished for a ranch lifestyle. Not that it mattered. He had three potential matches coming to the ranch.
Still, his thoughts drifted to the way her wet hair fell in waves. No. He couldn’t deny being intrigued by the woman who was currently cleaning herself up in his shower as the rain pelted down.
In the oversize mug, he stirred the hot chocolate. The mug in his hand had been a gift from his little sister. She’d made it in a pottery class, rightly guessing that something homemade would mean more to him. He could buy anything he wanted.
His sister had a knack. The pottery was expertly crafted. She’d called it part of her robin’s-egg collection.
He wasn’t an overly sentimental man, and even though he and his sister weren’t close, this mug represented his last link to family. To something grounding.
After giving the hot chocolate a final stir, he popped the top of the peppermint schnapps, deciding Esme should be the judge of her alcohol level. He didn’t want to pour too much. Who knew what her alcohol tolerance was? And he wasn’t one to take advantage. He prided himself on being a man of honor.
And he needed to stay focused on his search for a bride, someone who wanted to share this lifestyle with him and build a family.
He turned back to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee with a shot of whiskey in it. Then settled onto a barstool at the kitchen island where his half-eaten sandwich still waited. Fried steak between two thick slices of Texas toast. He took another bite and washed it down with his spiked coffee, the taste firing through his veins on this damn long day.
As he continued to eat his sandwich to the rhythm of rain and thunder, he reflected on the events of the last hour. Now he regretted calling Esme’s family “infamous.” The word had a crueler inflection than he had meant. Especially since Esme’s father
