Hot Holiday Rancher

“I’ve barely had time to shower, much less make progress.”

“Shower?” She raised a blond eyebrow. “At Jesse Stevens’s house? You’re there now?”

“Yes, and no need to sound scandalized. I was drenched. I needed to change.” She glanced down at her clothes. When was the last time she’d worn sweats? High school maybe. Or middle school. As rarely as she could manage. “But enough about me. How was your date with Ryder last night?”

Her sister had been engaged to none other than their father’s longtime nemesis Ryder Currin, who also happened to be in the running to head the Houston branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. Angela and Ryder had broken up, but were now back together again with Sterling Perry’s blessing. Esme would wager money a reengagement wasn’t too far off.

She just hoped Ryder was really right for her sister. He’d been married twice before—divorced from the first wife and widowed by the second. He had one child from each of those marriages, plus an adopted daughter. All adults. Such a complicated blended family.

Angela deserved to have a man love her unconditionally.

“I never thought he and I would have another chance, but things are good, really good.”

Her blue eyes turned wistful and the smile that warmed her face drew a pang of guilt from Esme over her doubts and concerns.

“I wish I could have been there for us to talk all about it in person over lunch.”

Angela nodded, her smile still present but soft. “That would have been fun, but I understand.”

Her sister leaned back to the pile of gifts—a cashmere scarf, leather-bound books, artisanal reclaimed-wood trays. The silver strands in her chunky gray sweater glimmered.

Christmas was coming at the end of the month and Esme hadn’t even begun her shopping. She wished she had her sister’s love for organization and gift-giving. Maybe then she would feel more connected to the holiday. “If only I’d waited to leave…”

“Dad appreciates what you’re doing for him. This is important.”

Was it, though? More important than being with her sister? She’d tried to convince her dad that this could wait a couple of days, but he’d insisted. And she hadn’t stood up to him. She’d even had the weather as an excuse and she hadn’t taken it.

“Well, I’ll be back in Houston before you know it. We can have brunch and chat over mimosas.”

“That would great. Just let me know when you’re finished there and I’ll line it up with Melinda, too. We’ll definitely need to make it brunch and not breakfast, since Melinda still gets morning sickness.” She chewed her fingernail thoughtfully, then added, “Perhaps we could include Tatiana, as well, if you don’t mind.”

Esme bit her lip to keep from blurting how she wanted to do things on her own with Angela, without their sister, much less Angela’s bestie, Tatiana Havery.

Tatiana, a vice president at Perry Holdings who specialized in real estate, had been going through a tough time ever since it came out that Willem Inwood was her estranged half brother. And now that he’d been arrested last week? It would be petty to exclude her.

“Mimosa brunch with you, Melinda and Tatiana. Count on it. Maybe we should invite Ryder’s two daughters. I could get to know my future nieces better.” She chuckled at the irony of that, since Ryder’s daughters were both adults. There was an age gap between Ryder and Angela, but since her sister didn’t mind, then who was Esme to judge?

“Okay, then. I will.” Angela fluffed her golden-blond hair, surveying the mess of ribbon and foil paper strips around her. “All right, sis, I need to clean up this mess. Thank you for checking in. Please stay in touch.”

“I will, just as soon as I have something to report.” Esme waved before signing off.

Sighing, she swept her hair into a loose topknot. Casual glam, she told herself.

Time to face her sexy host and try not to wonder if a kiss from him would taste of peppermint schnapps.

Jesse stared out the kitchen window at the water pooling outside, covering the driveway. As the storm continued to rage, he was glad he’d reached Esme when he did.

No denying it, the woman who’d crashed into his life this evening had made quite an impression. He thought about the way her wet clothes clung to her, outlined her shapely body.

Not that she was his type. Too city. Too polished for a ranch lifestyle. Not that it mattered. He had three potential matches coming to the ranch.

Still, his thoughts drifted to the way her wet hair fell in waves. No. He couldn’t deny being intrigued by the woman who was currently cleaning herself up in his shower as the rain pelted down.

In the oversize mug, he stirred the hot chocolate. The mug in his hand had been a gift from his little sister. She’d made it in a pottery class, rightly guessing that something homemade would mean more to him. He could buy anything he wanted.

His sister had a knack. The pottery was expertly crafted. She’d called it part of her robin’s-egg collection.

He wasn’t an overly sentimental man, and even though he and his sister weren’t close, this mug represented his last link to family. To something grounding.

After giving the hot chocolate a final stir, he popped the top of the peppermint schnapps, deciding Esme should be the judge of her alcohol level. He didn’t want to pour too much. Who knew what her alcohol tolerance was? And he wasn’t one to take advantage. He prided himself on being a man of honor.

And he needed to stay focused on his search for a bride, someone who wanted to share this lifestyle with him and build a family.

He turned back to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee with a shot of whiskey in it. Then settled onto a barstool at the kitchen island where his half-eaten sandwich still waited. Fried steak between two thick slices of Texas toast. He took another bite and washed it down with his spiked coffee, the taste firing through his veins on this damn long day.

As he continued to eat his sandwich to the rhythm of rain and thunder, he reflected on the events of the last hour. Now he regretted calling Esme’s family “infamous.” The word had a crueler inflection than he had meant. Especially since Esme’s father was no longer a suspect in the murder. He understood too well what it felt like to be wrongly accused.

Tearing into another bite of his sandwich, he went over the events of the murder investigation in his mind.

He’d been shocked when he was questioned by keen Houston detective Zoe Warren. All because of an argument he’d had with Vincent Hamm. Someone he’d thought he could count on. His kid sister just graduated with an MBA from one of the top programs in the country. Not only was she his sister and he had a strong sense of family, but his sister was also brilliant, with a sharp mind for business. Jesse had asked Vincent to help get his sister in at Perry Holdings. But Vincent refused to even set up an interview for Janet.

Jesse took another sip of his coffee, still trying to understand why, despite all the favors Jesse had done for him, Vincent wouldn’t lift a finger to help.

Rage had filled him. He’d believed the worst of his friend. That a big-city job with a fancy salary at Perry Holdings had gone to Vincent’s head. That he’d forgotten who he was. Jesse had responded with anger.

And then, a few weeks after their strange encounter, Vincent Hamm was dead. And not just dead—murdered.

A brief angry voice mail from Jesse to Vincent had turned up in the authorities’ investigation. A handful of words. Crazy. But Jesse, ever a rule follower and ever meticulous, had a solid alibi. He’d been three hours away at a cattle auction. His location south of Houston was certifiable, easily tracked through his purchase records and through his hotel visit. Nearly all his time was accounted for. There was no feasible way he could have been the murderer. As a law-abiding man, he’d voluntarily submitted to a lie detector test, which he’d passed. He wanted Vincent’s actual killer to be found. Sooner rather than later.

He thumped the edge of his own mug, heat transferring ever so slightly from the ceramic to his fingertips.

Jesse’s attention returned to the present as he heard the creak of the guest suite door and soft footfalls on the hardwood floor. Then there she was. Esme Perry.

He stood slowly. Damn.

The mug was no longer the only thing throwing heat in the kitchen.

Esme walked deeper into the kitchen, looking too damn sexy in his Texas A&M sweats. Even wearing his athletic socks bunched down around her ankles, she somehow made it all work into an elegant ensemble right down to her diamond stud earrings.

“Well, Miss Esme, you are definitely unmistakable now,” he said, nudging her mug and the bottle of schnapps toward her.

“It’s nice to be dry again.” She gestured to her wet hair. “At least somewhat.” She poured some of the liquor into the mug, stirred thoughtfully. Almost absently.

She lifted the mug to her lips, and he found himself unable to look away, imagining how soft they would be.

“I’m glad to help.” He waited for her to sit before reclaiming his place on the barstool. “Did you reach home to let them know you’re okay?”

“I did. Just now. I called my sister Angela. We were talking about plans to meet for brunch.” Her delicate nose scrunched with worry. “We haven’t had much time to talk lately since she got back together with Ryder.”