Page 15 of Cruelest Contract (Storm’s Eye Ranch)

“Sure.” He plops down on the bed so hard the mattress bounces. He looks at the folded coral pink blanket and picks it up at the edge. “What the fuck is this thing made of?”

I sigh loudly. “It’s a weighted blanket and it’s filled with tiny glass beads.”

He loses interest and drops it. “So what have you been doing in here all morning?”

“It’s eight thirty. The morning isn’t exactly over,” I say, watching as Fort strolls into the room next. He’s got a large shoebox tucked under one arm.

“For you.” Fort drops the box on the desk.

My face turns flaming hot as I realize I left my journal sitting open. All Fort needs to do is look down and he’ll see his older brother’s name written in very bold writing. I kept tracing the letters with my pen while brooding.

Oh, and at some point I dotted the ‘i’ in Julian with a heart. A FUCKING HEART!

“What’s with the box?” I ask, relieved when Fort steps away from the desk before he catches a glimpse of some damning evidence.

My relief doesn’t last. He barrels in this direction, almost like he intends to crash into me. I’m startled enough to take a step backwards. My bare foot knocks over an empty trash bin.

Fort skids to a halt. We’re standing absurdly close. The mocking smirk on his face makes him look too much like Getty. Suddenly, I have my doubts that he’s as harmless as I initially thought.

“Open it up and see for yourself,” Fort stares down at me. He smells like the outdoors and the brown cowboy hat on his head shows a film of dust.

Tye hasn’t left his perch on the bed. His knees are planted wide apart and he props his elbows on his thighs as he watches us with obvious delight. The white t-shirt he wears barely stretches over his muscles and I see evidence of a tattoo on his left bicep.

They’ve come here alone. The door is wide open and the hallway is empty. At least Getty is nowhere in sight. But Julian isn’t here either.

Fort won’t move but he allows me to step around him.

I pry the top off the shoebox and let out a gasp.

Though I’ve never been a fan of cowboy boots, the ones in the box could have been personally designed just for me.

The buttery brown leather on the bottom contrasts beautifully with the magenta shaft adorned with artfully embroidered flower shapes.

If someone were to turn me loose in a boot store and order me to choose a pair, I would run to these.

I’m surprised to see they are exactly my size.

“They’re beautiful,” I breathe, my fingertips tracing the intricate stitching. “Thank you.”

“Julian’s idea,” Fort says. “He figured you wouldn’t have any durable footwear.”

“Julian picked these out?” I ask with a peculiar tickle of pleasure in my belly.

Fort shrugs. “Something like that.”

“Go ahead and get dressed,” Tye says. He leans forward and his eyes gleam. “We’ll stay and tell you if you’re really ranch wife material.”

There’s an unmistakable sexual nuance in his voice. I’m mulling over a response that’s a little more diplomatic than “Go fuck yourself” when there’s a ruckus from beneath the bed.

A ball of grey fur streaks out the open door.

“Shit,” Tye says. “Mel needs to know there’s a mouse on the loose.”

“That’s a cat,” Fort corrects him.

“No, it’s not,” Tye says.

“Yeah, it is,” Fort argues.

“I know a mouse when I see one.”

“Clearly, you fucking don’t.”

I can’t hear how their dumb argument ends because I’ve run into the hallway, frantically shouting Louisa’s name.

But she’s not in the hallway. There’s no one at all in the hallway, which looks like a dim corridor from a horror movie.

If I was an escaping cat, where would I go?

Outside, most likely. Louisa isn’t in the habit of running away at home, but then again I’m always very careful when I open the apartment door. All this recent upheaval might be too much for her and she’s panicking. I’m panicking too.

And I’m so frazzled that I can’t remember which way is the staircase. I randomly veer right. This feels wrong after a few steps so I about-face, crashing right into Fort.

“Whoa.” He steadies me and frowns. “Take it easy.”

“I have to find her! She doesn’t know her way around.”

“Neither do you,” Fort points out. “Leave this to me. I’ll find your cat.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No.” He swivels to look into the bedroom and snaps his fingers at Tye. “You need to make sure she gets ready.”

“Ready for what?” I ask but Fort has already moved on. I watch his broad back and cowboy hat disappear around the corner before returning to the room where Tye is still hanging out on the bed, waiting to be entertained.

“Hey there.” Tye waves. “You know what’s funny? I totally forgot you had a cat.”

My head is starting to hurt. I hate the idea of Louisa huddled with fright somewhere in the bowels of this murky castle.

“I need to get dressed,” I say and gulp the rest of the tea in the hopes it chases away my blossoming headache.

“Okay.” Tye doesn’t move.

“That’s a cue for you to leave, Tiberius. Wait, what was Fort talking about? What am I supposed to be getting ready for?”

Tye is unconcerned with my agitated state. There’s a sudden indefinable spark in his eyes. “It’s time for you to pay your respects, Cecilia.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands up. All the odd rumors I’ve ever heard about the Tempestas play tag inside my head.

The ranch is haunted.

Their father talks to ghosts.

They drink the blood of their enemies and bury the bones in their front yard.

Absurd gossip. Right?

“Respects to who?” I ask.

“You’ll see when we get downstairs,” he says.

“Is that where everyone else is?”

“Depends,” Tye says cheerfully. “Who exactly are you looking for?”

Is he really this dense or is he playing games?

Hard to tell.

“I’m not looking for anyone. I was wondering about your father and the rest of your brothers.”

“I get it.” He nods. “You’re hoping to see Getty.”

“What? No.”

“Why not? He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“I wouldn’t call it that. Anyway, Getty doesn’t seem especially stable.”

He grins. “Maybe you can fix him, Cecilia.”

“Pass. I’ve never been very handy with tools.”

Tye breaks up into raucous laughter. He laughs so hard he falls back on the mattress. This dude laughs like it’s a full body exercise.

With a huff, I cross my arms and wait for him to finish.

Finally, he sits up, still chuckling. He’s lost his hat. His black hair, which reaches to his neck, now falls into his face.

Tye pushes his hair back, searches for his hat, and twirls it around his finger. “That was funny. You’re a funny girl.”

I’m not funny at all.

“Glad to know I have some entertainment value,” I mutter.

“They really are all waiting downstairs,” Tye says, abruptly dropping his frisky manner. “My dad. Getty. And Julian . He’s down there waiting for you too.”

His eyes remain fixed on me, judging my reaction.

I wish there was an off switch that would keep me from blushing. Just hearing Julian’s name does overpowering things to me.

How much of this is obvious?

“Then I shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer,” I say, holding his gaze. “If you leave now, I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

He jumps to his feet. “I can take a hint.”

“Wasn’t really a hint, Tye.”

He snorts, tosses his hat in the air and catches it neatly behind his back. “Wear this.” He drops the hat on my head on his way out the door.

I pull the hat off and toss it on the desk. “Why?”

Tye leans in way too close and slides a few strands of my hair through his fingers. Someone really ought to teach these boys a few lessons about personal space. I bat his hand away.

“Because,” he says, grinning, “Julian forgot to get you one. You need a hat if you’re gonna be a real cowgirl. And it’ll be fun to watch him get jealous.”

I have no intention of becoming a ‘real cowgirl’.

As for Tye’s second point, I have a tough time imagining that a man as gorgeous and unflappable as Julian Tempesta ever has a reason to feel jealous about anything. He certainly has no reason to get jealous over me.

Tye starts to stroll out of the room but then pivots, leaning his forearm on the door frame. “I’m holding you to that fifteen minute promise. To find my father’s study, go downstairs, take a left, and it’s the first room on the right.”

“Got it.” I start to shut the door.

He pushes his boot in the way for the second time today.

“And leave your phone here. There’ll be hell to pay if it goes off while you’re meeting with my dad.

Better not test this theory.” He points to the wall clock.

“Fourteen minutes left, Cecilia. Don’t make me come back and get you. That’ll put me in a bad mood.”

I wait until I’ve successfully shut the door and locked it before indulging in a minor anxiety attack. Slumped against the wall with my heart pounding and my hands cold, I snatch my phone from the desk.

I’ve never been in such dire need of a pep talk. There’s really only one person who can give me that.

It’s Sunday morning. Alice is most likely at home.

She picks up instantly. “It’s about time. I’ve been frantic, worrying about you. What’s with all the mystery? Who the hell are these people you’re visiting? When will you be back?”

“Alice.” I take a deep breath, in and out. My voice cracks anyway. “I swear I’ll explain everything to you. But right now I need you to tell me that I can do this.”

There’s plenty to love about Alice but what I love the most about my best friend is how she intuitively understands when it’s not the time to argue.

“You can do this, Cecilia,” she says. “Whatever it is, you’ve got it. You’re the strongest person I know. Repeat after me. I CAN DO THIS.”

“I can do this,” I whisper.

“Again,” she says.

I stand up and imagine that my bones are iron. Liquid steel flows in my blood. I’m invincible. “I can do this.”

“Good,” she says. “Don’t you dare forget that it’s true.”

I CAN DO THIS.

The words penetrate deeply. My pulse gradually slows to a normal pace and I glance at the clock.

I now have twelve minutes to get ready and appear before Cassio Tempesta and his sons.