The Rancher's Baby

“Why don’t you get this paved?” he asked.

“I like it,” she said.

“Why?”

That was a complicated question, with a complicated answer. But he was her friend and she was glad to be off the topic of marriages, so she figured she would take a stab at it. “Because it’s nothing like the driveway that we had when I was growing up. Which was smooth and paved and circular, and led up to the most ridiculous brick monstrosity.”

“So this is like inverse nostalgia?”

“Yes.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I understand that better than you might think.”

He pulled up to the front of the cabin and she stayed resolutely in her seat until he rounded to her side and opened the door for her. Then she blinked, looking up into the sun, at the way his broad shoulders blotted it out. “What about my car?” she asked.

“I’m going to have someone bring it. Don’t worry.”

“I could go get it,” she said.

“I have a feeling it’s best if you lie low for a little bit.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well,” he said. “Your ex-husband just came back from the dead, and both of you cause quite a bit of media interest. You were named as beneficiary of his estate along with four other women, and that’s a lot of money.”

“But Will isn’t dead, and I don’t care about his money. I have my own.”

“Very few people are going to believe that, Selena,” Knox said, his tone grave. “Most people don’t acknowledge the concept of having enough money. They only understand wanting more.”

“What are you saying? That I’m...in danger?”

“I don’t know. But we don’t know what’s going on with Will, and you were brought into this. You’re a target, for all we know. Someone is in an urn, and you have a letter that brought you here.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions, Knox.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but I swear to God, Selena, I’d rather have you safe than end up in an urn. That I couldn’t deal with.”

She looked at the deep intensity in his expression. “I’ll be safe.”

“You need to lie low for a while.”

“What does that mean? What am I supposed to do?”

Knox shrugged, the casual gesture at odds with the steely determination in his gray eyes. “I figured I would keep you company.”

Three (#u2f029b30-5a06-506d-84de-5895cad61026)

Selena looked less than thrilled by the prospect of sticking close to home while the situation with Will got sorted out.

Knox didn’t particularly care whether or not Selena was thrilled. He wanted her safe. As far as he was concerned, this was some shady shit, and until it was resolved, he didn’t want any of it getting near her.

All of it was weird. The five women who had been presented with nearly identical letters telling them that they had inherited Will’s estate, and then Will not actually being dead. The fact that someone else had been living Will’s life.

Maybe none of it would touch Selena. But there was nothing half so pressing in Knox’s life as his best friend’s safety.

His business did not require him to micromanage it. That was the perk of making billions, as far as he was concerned. You didn’t have to be in an office all the damned time if it didn’t suit you.

Plus, it was all...pointless.

He shook off the hollow feeling of his chest caving in on itself and turned his focus back to Selena.

“I don’t need you to stay here with me,” she said, all but scampering across the lawn and to her porch.

“I need to stay here with you,” he returned. He was more than happy to make it about him. Because he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. She was worried about him. She didn’t need to be. But she was. And if he played into that, then she would give him whatever he wanted.

“But it’s a waste of your time,” she pointed out, digging in her purse for her keys, pulling them out and jamming one of them in the lock.

“Maybe,” he said. “But I swear to God, Selena, if I have to go to a funeral with a big picture of you up at the front of the room...”

“No one has threatened me,” she said, turning the key and pushing the door open.

“And I’d rather not wait and see if someone does.”

“You’re being hypervigilant,” she returned.

“Yes,” he said. “I am.” He gritted his teeth. “Some things you can’t control, Selena. Some bad stuff you can’t stop. But I’m not going to decide everything is fine here and risk losing you just because I went home earlier than I should have.”

She looked up at him, the stubborn light in her eyes fading. “Okay. If you need to do this, that’s fine.”

Selena walked into the front entrance of the cabin and threw her purse down on an entryway table. Typical Selena. There was a hook right above the table, but she didn’t hang the purse up. No. That extra step would be considered a waste of time in her estimation. Never mind that her disorganization often meant she spent extra time looking for things.

He looked around the spacious, bright room. It was clean. Surprisingly so.

“This place is... It’s nice. Spotless.”

“I have a housekeeper,” she said, turning to face him, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and offering up a lopsided smile.

For a moment, just a moment, his eyes dipped down to examine those breasts. His gut tightened and he resolutely turned his focus back to her eyes. Selena was a woman. He had known that for a long time. But she wasn’t a woman whose breasts concerned him. She never had been.

When they had met in college he had thought she was beautiful, sure. A man would have to be blind not to see that. But she had also been brittle. Skittish and damaged. And it had taken work on his part to forge a friendship with her.

Once he had become her friend, he had never wanted to do anything to compromise that bond. And if he had been a little jealous of Will Sanders somehow convincing her that marriage was worth the risk, Knox had never indulged that jealousy.

Then Will had hurt her, devastated her, divorced her. And after that, Selena had made her feelings about relationships pretty clear. Anyway, at that point, he had been serious about Cassandra, and then they had gotten married.

His friendship with Selena outlasted both of their marriages, and had proved that the decision he’d made back in college, to not examine her breasts, had been a solid one.

One he was going to hold to.