His bright red hair is tousled to perfection, and his green eyes stop me in my tracks. I'm in awe. He's all grown up. And sexy as fucking hell. I'm not prepared for this at all.
Wow. Where did this man come from? He's nothing like I remember.
With my mouth ajar, I stare at him. My brain is having trouble formulating words, and my heart gallops in my chest.
Get it together!
Clearing my throat, I smile through thin lips. “Good to see you too, Ryder.” Gathering myself, I walk into the barn. “I guess you know why I'm here then.”
He stops a few feet from me, his eyes looking me up and down. “I'm glad you took time to step away from your fancy life and whatever runway you strolled off of.” His eyes stop on my feet, and he points at my shoes. “Be careful, I don't think those are made to get dirty.”
Rolling my eyes, I pull the folder from my chest and open it. “How about we just cut right to chase and stick to why I'm here. You don't need to worry about my shoes.”
“Save it, the farm isn't for sale, and even if it was, it's definitely not getting sold to you. So, you might as well just turn around on those spikes and follow the call of Gucci all the way home, because you're wasting your precious time here.”
Pursing my lips, I arch a brow. “You know what, why am I even bothering talking to you about this is? I'm here to talk to your dad, where is he?”
Ryder's brows drop hard and his nostrils flare. Through clenched teeth, he snarls, “He's buried next to my mother.”
He's dead. . . Both his parents are dead.
I feel terrible. I had no idea that his parents had passed away. Troy didn't say anything before I came.
My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Oh my God, I'm sorry. I didn't—”
He holds up his hand, cutting me off. “Save the sympathy for someone else. I don't need it from you.”
“Ryder, I really am sorry. I didn't know.” Holding a hand to my chest, I take a step closer.
I feel like such an asshole. Both his parents have died and here I am demanding to speak with his father. It guts me. I'm almost sick to my stomach with how ignorant I am right now.
His eyes connect with mine. Gold sparkles in the emerald of his eyes, popping and exploding as he stares at me. For that split second I see hunger in his glare. It's hidden in the shadows, but it's there.
As quickly as it comes, it disappears with one shake of his head. “Look, I told you I'm not selling the farm.” Flipping his fingers to the door behind me, he ticks his head. “Now you can go back to your fancy life in New York. Go, get out of here, go back where you belong. You don't belong here anymore.” His eyes travel over my body. “I can see that easily, Jenna. Go home.”
Letting out a sigh, my eyes steady on his. “You know Troy isn't going to just take a simple no for an answer. That's not how he works, obviously. He's been trying to buy this farm for years. He isn't going to be happy if I have to call him and tell him you won't even hear what we have to offer.”
“That's your problem, not mine.” He folds his arms across his chest, and his muscles thicken. My eyes move down over his chest, taking all of him in. “I don't know how many times someone has to get turned down before they get the point.”
His chest flexes as he adjusts, wrapping his arms tighter. I can't look away. My stomach twists and flips, reacting to him in ways I never expected. I'm warm all over as temptation and lust work through my body.
Focus!
Swallowing hard, I divert my eyes to the ceiling. “Look, at least take the time to hear what I have to say.”
“I heard enough. I think you should go now.”
“I didn't come all this way to have you shut the door in my face, Ryder. All I'm asking for is two minutes, that's it.”
“And I gave you five. Which is more than you deserve.” His jaw clenches, jutting out to one side. I know he's annoyed and pissed, and yet my body still ignores all his anger. His well shaped jaw with coarse stubble makes my thighs gently rub back and forth. My mind wanders to thoughts of how it would feel to have his face between my legs.
Would his rough skin rub my thighs raw? Would it tingle and tickle and make me cry out for more?
No! Forget him! Stick to why you're here.
Huffing under my breath, I slam the folder closed. “Fine, whatever,” I snap. “I'm really tired and I'm not in the mood to listen to you talk to me this way. But this isn't done, Ryder. Not by a long shot.”
I'm not going to stand here and be belittled by some farm boy. He's aggressive and acting like a jerk. If he wants to throw cheap shots, he can throw them at himself because I don't have time for this shit.
He wiggles his fingers and gives me a shitty, sarcastic smile. “Bye, bye,” he says.
The second the words come out of his mouth, I shut down. He says something else, but I ignore him completely.
“Screw you.”
Whipping around, I storm back to my car. I can feel him watching me the entire way, but I don't look back at him. I can't, and for two very good reasons. One, he's being a jerk, and two, all I want to do is kiss his stupid fucking face.
Slamming the door shut, I look up through the windshield. He stands there for a second, all sexy and sweaty with his hand resting on the frame of the barn door. His face is flat, emotionless, and then he's gone, turning and heading back inside.
Slapping my steering wheel, I grunt to myself in frustration. God, that man is thick headed. Thick headed, sexy, and handsome as hell. He's a triple threat, and unfortunately it's a threat that's giving me butterflies and making my body heat to the core.
I should just turn around and go back to the airport. Screw this place.
I should forget about this whole stupid thing and just tell my step-father to do it on his own.
But I can't. There's something inside me that's telling me to stay. To finish what I started and not give up just because Ryder's telling me I should. Going home would be easy, but staying will be a challenge.
I've always loved a challenge, and this is no different.
I'm not going anywhere. Two can play this game.
2
Ryder
Who the hell does she think she is?
The balls she has coming here like this, thinking I'm just going to roll over and give her my farm. Fat chance in hell. That's not how this works. I don't care how sexy she is. Her long smooth legs can carry her right back to where she came from.
She's not who I remember.
I don't recognize this girl anymore. Where's the tomboy who isn't afraid of the dirt? Where's the girl who would wrangle a pig in the sty and not care about getting mud in her hair?
The girl who's standing in front of me looks like a carbon copy from a Vogue magazine. If she had told me she was a model, I wouldn't be surprised.
Her hair is perfect, not a single strand is out of place. The makeup around her eyes is thick, making the blue pop. A copper color is smeared up to her perfectly shaped brows, and her lashes are black as coal.
Biting my bottom lip, I can't stop myself from enjoying the view as she storms back to her car. Her ass moves deliciously as she wobbles in the sand on her heels making my cock jerk in my pants.