I’m so wet, I’m pretty sure there’s a spot seeping through my jeans. And this man—this arrogant, asshole of a man—he’sunbothered. Flirting and winking like this is normal, and not a complete mindfuck.
What is even happening right now?
Is this house some kind of aphrodisiac I’m unaware of?
I need to call Abby—immediately. Surely, there’s something otherworldly going on. Maybe she did some sort of grumpy cowboy catnip spell or put pheromones in my luggage before I left.
“Holy shit,” I choke out, shaking my head. “You…that…” My hands wave through the air, and I stomp past him, shoving him out of the way as I shout, “That was so, so completely inappropriate!”
And because I’m really fucking thrown, and confused, andhorny, I shoot him a glare and add, “You’re annoying, and I hate you.”
He nods his head solemnly. “Right back at ya, darlin’.”
I’m half-feral as I make my way through the last two rooms, the air thick and heavy with whatever the hell just happened back there.
One room is obviously the master—larger than the others, with perfectly placed beams in the arch overhead and uncoveredfloors beneath my bare feet. But it’s the smaller room tucked just beside it with an adjoining door that makes me pause.
If even a single word of his unholy sex-monologue had a shred of truth to it, I assume it was built to be a nursery. And the fact that he said it’s Aurora’s room hits even harder, because out of all the rooms he could have picked, he put her right next to him, which is so perfectly sweet, my ovaries actually swoon.
Kade follows close behind, his presence brushing along my back like static. We reach the final room—an oversized bathroom attached to the master—and I stop dead in my tracks.
“This is beautiful,” I choke out.
It looks nearly finished—a double vanity, beautiful mosaic tile floors in black, white and marble that match the rest of the room perfectly. There’s a black arched window that’s massive, overlooking the same field as the back of the house, but in here, it feels grander somehow, almost magical.
It’s the kind of window you stare out of anddream.
I step forward, pointing at the wide, open space beneath it.
“You need to find the biggest soaker tub you can get your hands on,” I demand as jealousy bubbles up my throat. “This window deserves to be stared out of.”
He steps up beside me, close enough that the heat of him seeps into my skin, but he’s careful not to touch me again.
I can’t tell if I’m sad or happy about it.
“I know,” he says quietly. “I designed the room around the view. It’ll look out on the flower fields all summer and into fall.”
I turn to him, eyes wide. “Youdesigned this house?”
His expression tightens, mouth twitching like the question annoys him.
“Where’d you think it came from?”
“A designer?” I murmur. “A contractor your family hired. Isn’t that what most people do?”
“Most people aren’t Archers.” He huffs, gaze flicking back to the window like it’s safer than looking at me. “I assume you noticed the sign you drove under to get here.”
“Of course I did,” I hiss. “I’m not blind. I just figured this was an extra house on the property you claimed for the sake of the guardianship case.”
Kade scoffs, tugging off his cap and running a hand through his messy hair. “You would think that, city girl.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He gives me a look like I’ve missed the punchline of a very obvious joke. I glare right back.
“There are no random buildings on an active ranch, darlin’. Every single one, every field, barn, and silo—they all serve a purpose. Those fences you drove by? They’re not decoration. They keep cattle rotating through pasture so the land doesn’t die. The trees along the ridge? They’re a windbreak and shade for the livestock when we lease out the land. The flat patch near the creek is where we plant winter wheat. The low barn by the road is for sick animals, and the shed behind it stores our beekeeping gear. Without all that, this place wouldn’t run half as well as it does.”
I knew it, I think, almost dazed.He’s a cowboy. A real one.
