“It is what it is,” I said. “I’m not looking to marry again, so why bother to upset things? Emma and I understand each other. There’s no animosity between us whatsoever.”
“You say that now until you meet someone who makes you change your mind.”
“I’m over that stage in my life, Pas.”
He dropped his gaze to my groin. “Your hoe stick no longer works?”
“Hoe stick?” A bark of laughter escaped me. “Really? Is that what your sugar baby is calling yours now?”
He shrugged. “You get the point. Well? Does it still work?”
“My hoe stick works just fine, Pas. If I need some action, I get it outside of town.”
“Why so far? No one in the town’s attractive enough for you?”
“This is a small town. If those two busybodies, Elizabeth and Leanne, see you talking with a woman for too long, they’re spreading gossip that you’re together. I’ll take a hard pass on that.”
“You should come to Florida and spend some time with me. You’ll be beating women off with a stick, especially with you being loaded.”
“Not my thing. I prefer a one-night stand wanting me for my body rather than my money.” The doorbell rang, and I stood, my heart thumping hard. I shouldn’t be nervous about seeing my son, except with Carter, I could never tell which side of him I was getting. He’d hated every moment on the ranch when he visited me. The very opposite of his younger brother, Matty, who was a carbon copy of me.
“Carter?” Pascal asked.
“Should be. Let me check.”
“And grab me another beer when you’re coming back, will ya?”
“Sure.”
I entered the foyer, pausing briefly to check my appearance in the rustic mirror on the wall. I ran a hand through my hair and straightened my flannel shirt. Not that it would make a difference. Carter would only see me as nothing but a country bumpkin… with millions. Whenever he bothered to get in touch, money was always the motive.
How much does he need this time?
Showering him with money had made him into a spoiled young man, but I’d felt guilty about our broken home and given him everything he wanted. If I could do it all over again, I would have said no more and not let him skip the vacations he was supposed to spend with his brother and me at the ranch.
At least he was here this time of his own accord. Things might finally look up.
Smiling, I opened the door. The uncharacteristic quiet from the working houses signified that most workers had gone home to be with their families for Christmas. Only essential employees and those without families had stayed.
A powerful gust of wind howled, and the two figures on the porch braced themselves against the impact.
“Lawson?” Although he no longer worked for the ranch full-time since restoring the Moonlight Range, he still offered a hand when necessary. He’d left about half an hour ago after we’d discussed increasing the feed for our livestock during the bitter winter months. “What are you doing back here?”
A half foot behind him stood a young man with a round, chubby face wrapped up in a black bomber jacket with the collar turned up and a red wool scarf around his neck. What the hell was this?
“I found him on his way to the ranch. On foot.” Lawson’s voice was full of reprimand. “His car overturned in the ditch, so I had to bring him here, but I’ve got to get home to Opie. When the snow eases up some, you might want to get a few of the guys to pull his car out of the ditch. Doesn’t seem badly damaged.”
I still had no idea who the young man was, but Lawson was already on his way to his truck. Shit. I couldn’t leave the shivering man standing out in the cold. I stepped aside and held the door open for him. “Come on inside.”
“Th-thank you.” He squeezed by me, and I shut the door. He closed his eyes, bit his bottom lip, and moaned. “Oh god, the heat feels so good.” He yanked off his beanie, revealing thick, blond hair that brushed his cheeks.
Someone rapped against the door, and I yanked it open. Lawson thrust a bag of gifts into my arms. “Don’t forget these. Merry Christmas!”
The door closed again, leaving me in the hall with a stranger. A stranger who’d brought gifts.
“Aren’t you a little too young to be Santa Claus?” I asked.
He giggled, which he tried to repress, but his pink lips were stretched into a smile. “I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. You must be, Mr. Magnuson. Right?”
