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She tapped the toe of her boot on the floor and scanned the crowd once more for this “ranch hand” she was supposed to pick up.

Colton Nox.

She’d only seen one photo of him, with his arm slung over Forest’s shoulders as they both grinned at whoever held the camera.

She knew plenty about her brother’s best friend, though. Whenever Forest would call or write home, Colton featured in all his stories. She wanted to know more about the man Forest was so fond of.

She also wanted to know what really happened to rip her big brother away from her forever.

When she swung around, she stopped dead. A huge man was staring at her. His intense gaze burned straight past the surface and hit a mark…too close to the pain she kept shrouded inside her.

Snapping her spine straight, she lifted her chin and stared right back.

He took a step toward her. Her instinct to back away from someone so big—so imposing—was strong. But she locked her boots to the floor and gave him a defiant toss of her head as he closed the gap between them.

A ripple ran through her body. She didn’t expect Colton to be so…dangerous.

He stopped in front of her and looked down at the sign she held. “You from the Gracey Ranch?”

“You must be the new shit-shoveler my father took on.” There seemed to be new people showing up on the ranch a lot lately.

He cocked a brow. “Where’s your vehicle?”

His question threw her. For as long as she could remember, when she fired a shot with words, people shot back. They either got ticked off or spouted something nasty in return.

Colton did neither.

She spun on her heels and flung a look over her shoulder. “This way.”

Without waiting to see if he followed her or even had his luggage collected from baggage claim, she took off at a fast clip toward the exit. On the way past a trash can, she pitched the sign into it. It lay there face-up with his name on it.

She replayed the name in her head. Colton Nox. Hell, from the things Forest said about him, the man was almost famous. He could never disclose sensitive information about their actions in DEVGRU, but he had plenty of tales about Colton standing up to anybody who challenged him.

He walked behind her for only a few steps before moving up next to her. She cast him a look from the corner of her eye.

From those photos, she knew he was taller than Forest by a few inches, but seeing it in 3D was a shock to the system. Meadow was tall for a woman, but this guy dwarfed her by a good six inches and a hundred pounds of muscle.

They reached the doors, and she stuck out a hand to shove one open. The Montana air, usually fresh, stank with exhaust from a dozen vehicles parked outside the airport.

Meadow continued without missing a stride. Their new ranch hand kept pace easily with her, and no wonder—if her legs were long, his were tree trunks.

When they reached the big black pickup bearing the logo of her family’s ranch on the side, she clicked the unlock button on the key fob.

“You don’t look handicapped to me.” Colton had only uttered a few words to her, and now his deep voice jolted her with its grit.

She threw him a look. “I’m not. Why?”

“You parked in a handicapped spot.”

She planted a boot on the ledge of the open door to launch herself inside. “So what? They don’t need this many handicapped spots.”

He leaned over and eyed the windshield. “Looks like you got a parking ticket.”

The pink slip of paper jammed under her wiper blade brought a cuss to her lips. With a sigh, she hung out the door to grab the ticket. She threw it on the ground and slammed the door shut again.

When Colton stowed his oversized duffel bag in the back and climbed into the passenger seat, Meadow tried to ignore his low chuckle.

But it edged under her skin.