bother you?” she asked.
“No, my brothers and I are used to it. My parents love each other very much and have no problem openly displaying that love. I think it’s kind of special.”
She’d been led over the years to believe what her parents had shared had been special, too. Boy, was that wrong. Wanting to change the subject, she decided to ask him about what was still bothering her. “Why wouldn’t you entertain the thought of me working on your ranch that first day, McKinnon?”
He glanced over at her, grateful her eyes were still on the road and not on him. He didn’t want to look into her face when he lied. He couldn’t be completely honest when he told her the reason behind his decision not to hire her. That he’d figured his constantly being around her, having her live on his ranch was a temptation he couldn’t deal with.
So instead he said, “Like I told you, if anything happened to you I would have Corey to deal with, not to mention all those other damn Westmorelands.”
She shook her head smiling. “There are a bunch of them, aren’t there?”
He lifted a brow. “Bunch of them? Need I remind you that you are one of them.”
The smile on her face suddenly vanished. “Yes, and it took me all of twenty-eight years to find that out.”
McKinnon heard the bitterness in her voice. It was his understanding that she still had issues regarding the lies her mother told her about her father. For some reason, she couldn’t let go and move on.
“There might have been a reason your mother did what she did,” he said quietly, recalling the reason his mother had never told him that Martin wasn’t his biological father until she’d been left with no choice. “There are some things we aren’t meant to understand, and what happened between your mother and Corey is probably one of them.”
Casey sighed deeply. She wasn’t surprised that he knew the whole story—their fathers were best friends and had been for years. But then, given Corey Westmoreland’s popularity, she was certain that everyone in these parts had heard about his long-lost triplets.
“Don’t try and make excuses for what she did to me and my brothers, McKinnon. All those years we thought our father was dead but he wasn’t. Just think of all that wasted time when we could have known him.”
“But you’re getting to know him now. I hate to say that old cliché but better late than never, fits in this case.”
Casey frowned. “No, it doesn’t fit, and I prefer that we change the subject.” A few minutes later she said, “We’ll go see the doctor first to get you all fixed up.”
McKinnon shook his head. In addition to being feisty, she was stubborn. “Whatever.”
* * *
A couple of hours later, as they walked out of the doctor’s office, Casey glanced over at McKinnon. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you back to the ranch now?”
He frowned. “I only got two stitches, Casey, not twenty, and I still don’t think I needed them. And that damn tetanus shot wasn’t necessary, but then Dr. Mason has always been heavy-handed when it comes to needles.”
After he opened the car door, slid onto the seat and buckled the seat belt, he glanced over at her. “Will you still have time to make your appointment?”
“Yes, the area isn’t far from here. The first place is an apartment that’s over an empty building.”
He turned and looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Why would you want to live in a place like that?”
After snapping her own seat belt in place, she glared over at him, not liking his tone. “It’s not that I want to live in such a place, McKinnon, but when it comes to available housing, Bozeman isn’t overflowing with it.”
He sat back and stared out the window saying nothing. Why did he care where she decided to live? It was her business and not his.
She was right—it didn’t take long for her to get to where they were going. The real estate agent, an older, stout lady with a huge smile on her face, was waiting for them and once they were out of the car and introductions were made, she ushered them up the stairs to the apartment.
McKinnon glanced around, immediately not liking the place already. He knew the area. It wasn’t bad but then it wasn’t good, either. It was close to a business district with a bar on the corner. The place could get pretty rowdy, especially on certain nights of the week, not to mention on the weekends. She would never be able to get any rest.
When they reached the top of the stairs, the Realtor, who had introduced herself as Joanne Mills, moved aside to let them enter. “Nice place,” Casey said, placing her hands on her hips while she glanced around the huge room. “I can see potential.”
McKinnon couldn’t, and while Casey continued talking he tried concentrating on what she was saying and not on what she was doing. Having her hands on her hips had drawn his gaze to her small waistline, curvy hips and thighs. A waist he had touched the night they’d kissed, and thighs and hips that he’d molded against his own.
“McKinnon?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “What?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t like it,” he said in a gruff voice. “There’s too much work to be done before it can be occupied.”
Casey frowned. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to be a little positive.”
“Just speaking the truth.” He turned to Ms. Mills. “You don’t have anything in a more settled residential area? I don’t like the fact that there’s a bar on the corner.”
Before the woman could answer, Casey said in an irritated voice, “You don’t have to live here, McKinnon. That bar won’t bother me.” She then turned to Joanne. “But the size of the kitchen does. It’s too small. I like cooking on occasion and there’s not enough cabinet space. What’s next on the list?”
McKinnon didn’t like the next couple of places, either, and Casey had to admit that neither did she. It was late afternoon when they’d seen the last apartment and Ms. Mills promised to call when other listings came up.
“You might do better just to buy a piece of land and build on it,” McKinnon said as they headed to the car.
“I might have to do that,” she said, but knew that building a place would take even longer. She glanced up at the man walking beside her, thinking that although he had gotten on her last nerve a few times today by being overly critical of the places they’d seen, she had enjoyed spending time with him. “How’s your hand holding up?”
He glanced over at her. “I told you my hand is fine. To prove that point, I’ll drive back to the ranch.”
Casey didn’t have a problem with that since she’d found concentrating on the road and not him rather difficult. She’d been too distracted by his mere presence, and now that he had removed the rubber band from his hair, the curly mane flowed freely down his back, making him look more savage than tame. And then there were his smoky, dark eyes that would lock with hers. More than once while sitting
