Rich Rancher's Redemption. Maureen Child

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Rich Rancher's Redemption - Maureen Child Texas Cattleman's Club: The Impostor

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hat in one hand at his side. So still, she thought, and somehow powerful in that stillness. Enough that her heart did another wild series of beats that hammered in her ears and made her breathing just a little rough.

      “Of course it’s necessary, Jesse.” Lucy spoke up. “It’s not like Jillian knows her way around town yet.”

      He shifted his gaze briefly to his sister. “Lucy, you’ve got that meeting in the morning with the architect about your new breeding barn?”

      Jillian tore her gaze from Jesse, because it was way safer to look at the other woman in the room. “Breeding barn?”

      Lucy waved one hand. “Jesse likes to call it that. But I am building a new stable for the horses I’m—”

      “Breeding?” Jesse asked.

      “Fine. Yes. A breeding barn.” She blew out a breath. “And he’s right. I forgot about the meeting. Okay then, Jesse will take you to the apartment tomorrow and then I’ll take you over to the TCC so you can find out about the job.”

      Jillian felt like she was being pushed downhill. She wanted to stop but she had the feeling the only way that was going to happen now was if she ran into a tree. Still, she had to try.

      “Thank you,” she said to Jesse, “but I’ve got GPS on my phone, so you really don’t have to take me—”

      “It’s decided,” he said, then gave both women a sharp nod. “I’ll pick you up at your motel about ten, that all right?”

      “Pointless to argue with him,” Lucy gave a dramatic sigh. “He’s got a head like solid concrete.”

      Jesse frowned at her, but there was no anger in the look, Jillian noted. Just brother-sister stuff, which was sort of entertaining to see. If she hadn’t been right in the middle of it.

      “If you’ll just give me the address,” she tried again.

      “I will. Once we get there,” Jesse told her. “See you then.”

      When he left, Jillian took a deep breath and let it slowly out again. “Your brother is—”

      “Pushy? Opinionated? Arrogant?” Lucy provided with a grin. “My answer is D. All of the above.”

      And don’t forget dangerously sexy.

      Jillian swallowed hard. “Does anyone ever say no to him?”

      “Many have tried, few have succeeded,” Lucy admitted wryly. “You’re okay with him taking you tomorrow, aren’t you? I mean, he really is a good guy.” She paused, gave Jillian a sly smile. “And he’s single.”

      Jillian blinked. She’d seen that gleam in the eyes of other friends over the years and she knew that Lucy was trying her hand at a little matchmaking. Which just was not going to happen.

      The whole setup thing always turned into a nightmare. Besides, she wasn’t looking for a man. The last one she’d found had been the impostor who had swept her off her feet then left her pregnant and wondering who the heck her baby’s father really was. No, she’d had enough of men. What she wanted now was to build a home for her baby girl. She wanted to make a future for the two of them and a man was a distraction she didn’t want or need.

      “No thanks,” Jillian finally said, pushing up from the floor. Outside, the afternoon was slipping away and soon, a spectacular sunset would be staining the sky. “I’m not looking for a man. And I’m really not looking for one who likes to tell people what to do.”

      “Oh, he’s not that bad. He’s not a bully or anything, he’s just...Jesse.” Lucy shrugged and stood up, too.

      “Uh-huh. And was your husband bossy?” The instant the words were out, Jillian wanted to drag them back into her mouth and lock her lips closed. Since she couldn’t, she said, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned—”

      “Relax,” Lucy soothed, reaching out to give Jillian a quick hug. “I’m the one who told you I’m a widow, remember? I don’t mind talking about Dane. I want Brody to hear about his daddy, so those of us who knew him have to talk about him.”

      Didn’t make Jillian feel any better.

      “But to answer your question, no, he wasn’t bossy. After hanging around with Jesse and Will for a while, he tried to be, but he just couldn’t pull it off.” Lucy laughed a little in memory. “Dane was nothing like Jesse, really. Or Will, for that matter. But to be fair to my oldest brother, he’s so used to taking charge I don’t think it ever occurs to him to not do it, you know?”

      No, she really didn’t. Not one man Jillian had ever known had been the responsible type. They didn’t want to take charge because they hadn’t wanted to be blamed if things went wrong. Heck, her own father had walked out on his family when Jillian was just five because he hadn’t wanted the responsibility of a family. So she didn’t have any experience with men like Jesse. And maybe, she told herself, that was why he was bothering her so much. She couldn’t pigeonhole him into any of the types she was most familiar with.

      And maybe that was a good thing, since being a cocktail waitress in a casino gave her an up close and personal look at the worst kind of men. The takers. The whiners. The braggers. Now thanks to the impostor who’d convinced her he was crazy about her, she had another category. The liars. So far, Jesse Navarro seemed to be in a category all to himself.

      “Well,” she finally said, “I take care of myself and Mac and I don’t take orders well.”

      “Then this should be interesting,” Lucy murmured, and Jillian was pretty sure her friend was amused by the whole situation.

      * * *

      The apartment was clean.

      That was the best Jesse could say about it the following morning. Hell, when he’d first suggested this place, he’d remembered the apartments being better than this. Bigger. Less...institutional. With Jillian and her daughter at his side, Jesse felt like apologizing for suggesting this apartment in the first place.

      “It’s perfect.” Jillian walked farther into the numbingly boring, impersonal space.

      “Put your glasses on,” he muttered.

      She whipped around to look at him. “I don’t wear glasses. I see it clearly enough and this will be fine. It’s got a lot of windows, so it’s nice and bright.”

      “Which just makes me wonder why you’re not seeing what I am when I look at this place. It’s like a prison cell,” he added, letting his gaze slide around the one big room.

      At one end, there was a small, but complete kitchen, with a fridge, microwave, stove and dishwasher. The countertop was serviceable black, the cabinets were painted white and the sink was stainless steel. On the opposite side of the room was a double bed and against the front wall was a couch with a chair pulled up alongside and a tiny coffee table in front of it. There was a small bathroom with a tub/shower off the main room and he guessed the other doors were for the closet. Which pretty much described the whole place.

      A beige, claustrophobic closet.

      “Know a lot about prison cells, do you?” she asked.

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