Enamored Read online

  “Yeah, be there in a minute,” I say to Jeff. I put my stuff back in the house and kiss Mom on the forehead before walking to the barn. I look at my watch. I have an hour and a half before Eloise gets here. I want to make a good impression, so I help Jeff finish saddling the horses then go in to take a shower.

  My phone is buzzing off the hook when I step out of the shower. I rub the dark blue terry cloth over my short brown locks and pick it up.

  “What’s up, Holden?”

  “Tristan, who was I supposed to pick up today?” He sounds anxious.

  “Seriously, Holden?” I sigh, drop my head, and close my eyes as I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Eloise Quill, from Quill and Smith Designs.” I hold the phone to my ear with my shoulder and pull my boxers up.

  “Okay.” He pushes out a harsh breath. “Well, she’s not here. She sent someone in her place.”

  I roll my eyes. He seriously had to call me for this? “I don’t give a shit who she sent. Just make sure he or she gets here in one piece.” I decide to throw a small dig at him for good measure. “And if it’s a girl, don’t hit on her.”

  I end the call without waiting for his response and tug my jeans over my hips. I decide to keep my attire casual. This isn’t exactly a business meeting, but I still want to be presentable. I’m going to be showing this person the ranch and discussing what I’m looking for. I pull on a grey button-down shirt and roll the sleeves up to my elbows. I was going to shave, but helping the new guests arrive took a little more time than I factored in.

  This is Wyoming, and I am on a ranch, so I decide the last item I need for this meeting will be my cowboy hat. I place it on top of my head and smile at my reflection. I review my notes and write down a few last-minute ideas I’ve had for the ranch when I see the truck coming down the driveway. I jog down the stairs and push open the front door as Holden pulls up. I straighten my spine and put on my biggest welcoming smile as I jog over to them.

  Holden kills the ignition and steps out, blocking the window so I can’t see the person they sent.

  “Everything okay?” I whisper to him.

  She pushes open the door, and one of her black heel-clad feet hits the ground, followed by the other. She walks around the front of the truck and stops next to Holden, looking up at me. Her face is covered by thick shades, and her long, thick blonde hair is softly curled and has been pushed behind her shoulders.

  It can’t be.

  My knees shake as I stare her down, willing her to take her shades off. I flit my eyes over her body, and damn, she does not disappoint. She’s wearing a pair of high black heels, a black fitted pencil skirt that shows off her ample hips, and a blue button-down with a little frill around the neckline, showing a small amount of cleavage.

  My body pulls to hers like a magnet. I know this feeling. I have only felt it with one person in my entire life. I take a step closer to her, wanting to pull her into my arms and tell her how sorry I am, but the look of disdain on her face stops me cold in my tracks. She puts her sunglasses on the top of her head and locks her gaze to mine.

  “Hello, Mr. Ellis. Eloise Quill sent me to meet with you in regards to redesigning new cabins.”

  “Lana?” Her name is swept away with a breeze. I swallow and try again. “Lana, what are you doing here?”

  She locks her jaw, takes a deep breath, and starts. “I thought I was perfectly clear. I’m here because you hired Quill and Smith Designs to redo cabins on your ranch. If you would be so kind as to show me a cabin and the type of design you’re looking for, I’d be more than happy to get to work.” Her words are terse. I see her swallow hard, and I know she’s trying to keep her emotions together.

  When I step into her space, her body is so close I can see the small tremble of her chin as she looks up at me.

  “Mr. Ellis, the cabins?” she asks again, this time with much less vigor.

  I don’t give a shit about the fucking cabins. Lana Robinson is back at Black Stallion Ranch. This is a dream come true for me. I’ve imagined this happening so many times, and now it’s here, I can’t believe it. There hasn’t been anyone—not even Savannah—who made me feel the way Lana did. Like everything I want in life is a possibility and not a fantasy.

  I reach out and grasp her upper arm, needing to know she’s real. Needing to know I didn’t conjure her in my mind. Her skin burns under my fingertips, and I want to pull her to my body and crash my lips down over hers. My heart is beating so hard in my chest I can barely contain it. This whole thing feels like a dream.

  “Tristan. Let go of me,” she whispers.

  It comes out as a small plea. Her words might as well have been acid, though. No longer do they hold the love and adoration they once did. Not that I deserve it. I remember what I did, how I ended things between us all those years ago. I release the grip on her arm, pulling my hand back slowly.

  “How are you here?”

  She smirks. “Your ears must be clogged. Or maybe you took one too many hits in school playing football.” Holden laughs behind us, and until then, I forgot he was there.

  “I hired Eloise to do the designs based upon pictures on the website and conversations I’ve had with her. I had no idea you worked there.” It’s the truth. When I began my search, I never in a million years thought I would find Lana. I wanted a company that would make what I wanted. Quill and Smith Designs had designs exactly like what I was looking for.

  “The designs on the site are mine. She gave your account to me because she knows how much I want to venture into something like this.” She looks down to the ground, and for a second, I see the shy girl who was here ten years ago. “I tried to talk her out of sending me here.”

  “Why?” I ask, alarmed. Now that she’s here, I can’t imagine anyone else working on this project. She’s like a breath of fresh air I’ve been waiting for, for so long. I didn’t even know I needed her until now.

  She clamps her jaw shut and snorts. “Because I have some really shitty memories of this place.”

  Chapter 3

  Lana

  He flinches at my words and straightens his spine. They did come out a little harsher than I meant them to, but at least he stopped looking at me like he wants to devour me whole. Not that I would mind—let me be clear about that. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a good dicking. I’m in way over my head here. I should have put my foot down and told Eloise she needed to find someone else for the job.

  “You’re overdressed for a day on the ranch, don’t you think?” he sneers. Ah, there’s the Tristan I know and hate. I’d rather him be mad at me. It will make it much easier to get this job done and get back home.

  “Yes. I was expecting to go to the hotel and unpack, and then change into some jeans and boots or sneakers. I wasn’t expecting car service.” I turn my attention to Holden. “You said you were taking me to the hotel so I could change.”

  Holden smirks, and I know I’m not going to like the next words out of his mouth. “You’re staying on the ranch while you’re here.”

  “No,” Tristan and I yell out at the same time. My heart rate spikes, and my hands are clammy. I can’t stay on the ranch. There are too many memories of this place. I need to keep some distance between us if I want to survive this trip.

  “Holden, we don’t have any available cabins for her to stay in,” Tristan says sternly. I watch him narrow his eyes at Holden. A silent conversation happens between them.

  As if Holden doesn’t care, he says, “Bullshit. You know cabin seven is open.”

  Cabin seven. Seven has become my least favorite number over the years. It holds too many memories—good and bad. It’s the same cabin I lost my virginity in when I was here ten years ago. Seven is the number of boyfriends I’ve had throughout the years. Seven is the max amount of orgasms in one night.

  Well, I guess there are some good ones. I’m still not even sure how that last one happened, but if I remember correctly, it was done with my vibrating friend and my imagination. I’m sure Tri
stan had something to do with that. Thinking of him is when I come the hardest. I blush as I remember that night.

  Fucking Tristan.

  I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to put you out. I can’t expense a stay like this to the company anyway. I’d much rather stay in town. It’s a better option for me. I need reliable Wi-Fi to get my job done.” My head spins as I think about having to stay here longer than necessary. I want to go to my room, change, and pull my big girl panties up to make it through this client meeting.

  As it is, looking at Tristan is bringing back all the memories I’d rather forget. My body, on the other hand, has a different idea. The longer I stand here in his presence, the wetter I get. Listening to his deep, sultry voice and seeing the hard planes of his muscles moving under his clothes is almost enough to make me orgasm right here—almost. I shift my weight, trying to discreetly ease some of the pressure forming between my thighs.

  Tristan scoffs and nods. “Good. I think it’s better for you to stay in town, too. Holden, take her to her hotel. She can change into something where she won’t break an ankle and then come back so we can get some real work done.”

  I start to respond but bite my tongue when the screen door opens. I look over Tristan’s shoulder to see his mom walk out. She’s hunched forward, and her hair holds more gray than it did last time I was here. She looks so frail, and her clothes seem to swim on her. Even from this far, I can see her bright blue eyes. The same eyes Tristan has. I glance back at him, but his face is unreadable.

  What happened? Holden mentioned her being sick, but I didn’t think it was that bad. Her face lights up when she sees me.

  “Lana Robinson? Is that you?”

  I smile and push past Tristan to greet her. “Hi, Mrs. Ellis. It’s wonderful to see you.” I pull her into a gentle hug, afraid I’ll hurt her. We pull back, and I look into her face. She’s beaming at me. Her smile is reassuring.

  “Oh, honey, what are you doing out here? You look lovely.”

  “Thank you. I’ve been hired to redo the cabins.”

  She looks over my shoulder at Tristan, and I follow her gaze. He’s watching us like a hawk would watch its prey. His arms are crossed over his chest defensively, and his eyes bore into the back of my head.

  She pulls me in for another hug and whispers, “I’m happy it’s you. You’ll make the cabins look amazing.” I’m happy to have her vote of confidence. She places her arm around my waist and holds me against her side. “Tristan, why don’t you let Lana get settled in?”

  Holden jogs up the steps and extends his hand for her to take, leading her to the truck. Then, he pulls my suitcase out of the truck bed and plops it next to me. I try to protest, but Tristan grabs the handle and pulls it behind him.

  “Hey, wait!” I call after him, trying to walk on the dirt path.

  “Should have worn different shoes, princess,” he calls over his shoulder, not slowing down.

  I take my shoes off and pull on the folded-up pair of flats in my purse. I jog and catch up to him a few moments later. He glances down at my footwear and shakes his head.

  I toss my arms up in annoyance. “What? What could I have possibly done to offend you now?”

  “Nothing. Come on. Let me show you to your cabin. You can change into something more suited for the ranch, and we can talk about what I want.”

  What I want is to slap you so hard your head spins. I smirk as I picture myself doing it. Slapping him as hard as I can, putting all my anger and confusion from ten years ago into it. I hope it hurts like a bitch, too.

  We walk in silence the rest of the way, and when he pushes open the front door to the cabin, it’s like a time warp. I’m an eighteen-year-old girl again. Everything is exactly how I remember it, with the exception of the couch and curtains. Those have been updated.

  I suck in a deep breath as I cross the threshold, feeling as if I’m going to faint. The familiar scent of the wood and ranch permeates the air, bringing me back in time. Tears pick my eyes, and I look up at the ceiling, trying to keep my emotions in check. You’re a badass. Badasses don’t cry! I take my suitcase and drag it to the room my parents stayed in. Not a chance in hell I am staying in my old room again.

  “I’ll meet you at the main house in thirty minutes. Is there Wi-Fi, or will I need my notepad instead?” I start unpacking my stuff, not giving him a second glance. He stands in the doorway, watching me. I can feel his eyes boring into me. I fight the urge to turn and look at him as goosebumps form across my body.

  “Wi-Fi works, princess.” He leaves without another word. I hate that fucking nickname all ready.

  I change into jeans and a t-shirt and pull my chucks on. I sling my laptop bag over my arm and head back toward the main house. I replay our initial interlude and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming in frustration. He has no right to be mad at me. As I pass the barn, I hear a couple talking over the sound of the horses. I stop dead in my tracks when I recognize the woman’s voice. It can’t be!

  I pop my head around the corner and see Mr. and Mrs. Carrington, then hide as quickly as I can. I don’t want them to see me. Russ has been trying to get into my pants for the past few years. I went to visit him for a two-week trip, and the entire time he was hitting on me. I may have given him a pity make-out session because I was sick of seeing him try so hard. Really, it was kind of pathetic.

  I couldn’t wait to go home and get away from him. Our conversations are limited now. I usually tell him I’m busy, and it’s a quick hello and goodbye. He doesn’t need to know I’m back at the ranch, though, and I’m sure if they see me, they will tell him. I walk faster, taking longer strides to the house when I hear my name.

  “Lana? Is that you, darling?” Mr. Carrington asks.

  I turn and look back, placing a surprised smile on my face. “Hi, Mr. Carrington. Nice to see you. I didn’t know you still come here.”

  “Simone and I come back every few years. It’s great to see you. Are you planning any more trips to England?”

  I shake my head. “No, work is keeping me busy for now.”

  I tell them about my job and how I am here on a work assignment. Simone and James seem interested in the interior design part of my job, and she even asks if I would be willing to send some designs her way. I dig out a business card and tell her to check out the website. If she’s truly interested in services Quill and Smith Designs can provide, she can work with them directly.

  Tristian is walking toward us but stops in his tracks when she says, “We’ll tell Russell we saw you and said hello.”

  My eyes focus on him. I want to see him in the same pain he left me in ten years ago. Pulling out my best acting card, I respond in the sweetest voice I can muster. “That would be great. I miss having chats with him. It’s been too long. I’m sorry to run, but Tristan is waiting for me.” I motion to where he’s standing, unmoving. I see the tick in his jaw and smile to myself.

  I wave as I pass him on my way to the house. He catches up a moment later, and I keep my eyes trained down, watching his lean legs as he stays beside me.

  “If I can’t expect you to be punctual, I’m not sure this arrangement is going to work,” he quips. It’s like a jab to the gut, and it’s not going to fly.

  “I assume you don’t want me to be rude to the guests that seem to visit here often. Unless you prefer for me to tell them what an asshole you truly are, and I’d be more than happy to do that.” I risk a glance at him. He narrows his eyes at me and looks away.

  “The only asshole is their son,” he mumbles.

  Tristan has never liked Russ. Why would I assume he would like him now, after all this time? Just to dig my claws in a little deeper, I say, “At least he didn’t leave me for dead in a field.” Anger flashes across his features. I feel it in the air around us; it’s suffocating. He opens his mouth to say something, and I hold my palm up, stopping him. “Tristan, you’ve hired me for a job. Let’s keep this professional, and we’ll both get through it alive. I d
on’t need to rehash the past. What’s done is done.”

  “You never gave me a chance to explain.”

  “Your note said enough.” I take a seat at the picnic table and open my laptop, ending the conversation. “Tell me what you want.”

  He tells me all the things he wants done with the cabins—new window treatments, new furniture, wall decorations, et cetera. Then he gets into the fun parts—expansions. He wants to build another set of cabins that can be used as a bed and breakfast sort of experience. The guests that choose to use this option will have use of the land for hiking, swimming, and lodging, but will not have an all-inclusive experience like those staying for a week.

  He’s animated, and his smile is infectious as he talks about his plans for the future. He reminds me so much of the boy I fell for all those years ago, especially when his chestnut locks fall over his eyes and he pushes it away. I hate to be the one to burst his bubble. “Okay, so I have a question. After you build these cabins, how will you know if the guests are doing the full experience or just a few nights’ stay?”

  “Each person who is here for the total package needs to give their cabin number. Cabins one through seven are the all-inclusive ones, and the other rooms will be single stays. If they want to experience some of the other activities the ranch has to offer, they can pay extra for it. Hiking, fishing, and swimming are all included. Horseback riding, hiking tours, and boat rentals are extra.”

  “What about food? You mentioned a bed and breakfast setting. That usually includes breakfast. Are you including the other meals?”

  His smile fades. “You think this idea sucks that much, huh?”

  Shit. I’m really not trying to make him feel bad; I want to make sure he’s thought of every situation. This isn’t normal in these types of meetings. Normally, whatever the client says they are doing, we push forward and give them their dream design. I know how much this place means to him and his family, though, and I want to make sure he does what’s best for the ranch and the business.