Chapter Sixteen
“I didn’t approve her. I would never do that. She shouldn’t be here.” Cynthia Stoker, the Cattlemen Crime Club’s event coordinator, paced in the kitchen. Her fingers were a braided knot. She was responsible for the guest list at the Spring Fling, the annual end-of-spring fund-raiser hosted by the O’Brien family.
“I know.” Colin O’Brien folded his arms, hiding just how much the thought of seeing Melissa Roark—correction, Melissa Rancic—again twisted his gut. Being the fourth son of the wealthy O’Brien family and with good looks and charm to spare, he hadn’t seen a lot of rejection in his life. Until her. And she’d ripped his heart out. “How’d her name get past security?”
“She asked to come as Carolina Jordan’s plus-one, and since she wasn’t listed as a threat they approved her,” Cynthia said, throwing her hands in the air, worry lines bracketing her mouth. She’d worked at the ranch for a little more than five years. She’d become close with his family and knew that the subject of Melissa was off-limits. “Honest. I thought she moved away a year ago. I had no idea she’d resurface.”
“She did.” The thought that she’d returned to Bluff, Texas, let alone be bold enough to show up at his family’s fund-raiser riding on someone else’s invitation, sat hot and heavy. The heels of his boots clicked on the tile floor as he paced. The last time he’d seen her had been when she’d handed him the engagement ring she’d been wearing—the one he’d given her—and then married one of the biggest jerks to ever blow through town, Richard Rancic. The guy was all flash and no substance, splashing local businesses with his money before taking what he wanted—Melissa—and breezing out of town. The newlyweds had disappeared after the quickie wedding. Apparently, Melissa couldn’t get away from Colin fast enough.
He’d moved on, dated plenty of interesting women since then. The thought of seeing her again shouldn’t hurt this much. And just to prove to himself that it didn’t, he planned to march right into the ballroom and show her just how freakin’ fantastic he was doing since she’d told him that she didn’t love him the same anymore and then walked out of his life.
Cynthia stalked toward the kitchen table, where Colin had seen her cell phone.
“I’m calling security. Don’t worry about a thing. You don’t even have to look at her. I’ll have her escorted out. She shouldn’t be here and Carolina should’ve known better than to bring her. I’m putting them both on the Never Allow list.” Her voice had that shaming quality.
“No need. I’ll walk her out myself and then deal with Carolina personally,” Colin bit out in a low growl.
Cynthia tensed, reacting to his sharp words.
Well, he hadn’t meant to make her do that. He’d apologize later. Right now, he had an important matter to take care of. He didn’t want one of his brothers seeing Melissa first and ushering her out of the building before he got a chance to have his say. No, he wanted to handle this little problem on his own. Carolina might’ve been Melissa’s girlfriend but she’d become close with his family. Colin considered Carolina a friend, too, until now.
Colin stalked out of the room and toward the Great Hall. The place was decorated to the nines for the Spring Fling. Paper lanterns hung from the forty-foot tented ceiling. White candles contrasted against the dark oak beams and wood floors. Round tables with white linens covering them surrounded the dance floor. The place, fixed up, gave a nod to its heritage as an old horse barn and had rustic charm in spades.
Colin’s blood pressure spiked with each step inside the room as he searched for his target. George Strait’s “Baby Blue” filled the air as pairs of boots shuffled around the dance floor in a two-step.
And then he saw her. His gaze fixed. His heart fisted.
Melissa Rancic stood in front of the buffet table, nervously searching the faces in the crowd. At least she had enough sense to be worried even if she also had a whole helluva lot of nerve showing up at his family home.
Colin didn’t want to acknowledge how damn good she looked. Her wavy auburn hair hung just past her shoulders. She’d cut it since the last time he’d seen her when it fell mid-back in large ringlets. She had on a cream-colored sleeveless dress that smoothed along the soft curves of her frame and flared below the waist with two layers of ruffles.
The dress fell mid-thigh, showing off those long legs of hers. Her fingers toyed with the necklace that hung in the middle of her chest, and the huge rock on her wedding finger sparkled in the dim light. She wore light brown boots with blue inlay. The fact that she still owned them at all made him believe she’d stayed somewhere in Texas. Although, she could live anywhere. He wouldn’t know. After the way she’d left things unfinished between them, he’d refused to talk about her again. She’d made her choice and he’d closed up inside, telling himself that he needed to cowboy up and move on. Of course, he’d spent plenty of couch time licking his wounds before he’d had enough of the lovesick-puppy routine.
Memories of her in his arms, her warm, naked skin against his, tried to break through his thoughts as he stared at her. The way she smelled like early morning on a sunny day in spring, all flowers and warmth. Her intelligence. The way she laughed...
Those thoughts had about as much place in his mind as she had in his house. To be clear, there was room for neither. It was about time she knew it.
As he stalked closer, he realized there was more than worry going on in her head. She was anxious, stressed and those weren’t the same things. She had to know this was the last place on earth she should be. Since it had been so easy for her to walk away from him last year and shut him out of her life completely, he figured her apprehension had nothing to do with the possibility of running into him. Was she afraid Carolina had disappeared on her? She was looking for someone. Or looking out for someone. Watching. Weary.
Her weight shifted from side to side like when she was nervous. She kept toying with that necklace, too. Was that a gift from him, from Richard?
Rather than sneak up on her or come at her from the side, Colin took a straight-on approach, and he didn’t bother to hide the intensity in his glare. If she had the guts to come to his house, she could take it.
The second she saw him, her body language changed. Her posture tensed and she stood stiff and uncomfortable. A look of panic crossed her features as her gaze darted around, probably looking for an escape route. With the buffet table behind her and the only other exit to Colin’s back, she was trapped in between.
As he neared, he could see that her pulse pounded at the base of her neck—a neck he had no business looking at in the first place, especially not the exact spot that made her mewl with pleasure when his mouth covered it.
