Chapter 4

Caleb

What the fuck was that?

Elias Masondo, the thirty-five-year-old billionaire business mogul stunner just hit on me. Me.

I think I’ve been out in the sun for too long without a hat today because heat stroke feels like a proper explanation for the brazen flirting I just witnessed. Maybe I was hallucinating it. I mean, what the fuck else could be responsible for it? Surely Elias isn’t actually interested in me. He’s a million miles out of my league.

Not only is he naturally gorgeous, but everyone loves him. He’s the sweetheart of the business world, according to public opinion, and he’s even better looking in person. Tall, muscular but still slim, soft brown eyes, a strong and full hairline… I could go on for hours.

Top it all off with a trimmed beard and killer smile, he’s a ten out of ten. Being outwardly nice and well-off financially are just the cherries on top. He’d still have caught my eye if he was just a regular guy like me, but he’s not.

Elias is far from normal, he’s picturesque—too damn good to be true. And that’s why I’m going to assume his gawking at me and his bold words are the product of one too many cocktails before dinner.

I’d be stupid to think it means anything else.

“What’d he want?” Tyler asks, fumbling with a weed whacker. The kid can do just about anything we throw at him but changing the strings on these things trips him up every time.

“He’s chatty,” I grunt, dismissing the idea that our conversation was anything more than friendly. Tyler is a good worker and a decent guy, but he’s a gossip.

“Wouldn’t mind him chatting to me,” he chuckles, passing me the machine so I can get it sorted for him.

“He’s thirty-five,” I inform him, avoiding his eyes in favor of fixing this shit.

“So?”

“So, you’re nineteen.”

I glance up, finding him smirking. “Exactly.”

“Don’t let Montana hear you talking like that,” I warn, watching as heat crawls up his cheeks. God, he’s so obvious. They both are.

Those two need to stop snapping at each other and just get it on already. Nobody gives a fuck that their parents are married. Well, maybe their parents do, but fuck ‘em. Montana is a solid guy, still older than Tyler but much closer in age than Elias would be.

“You can have Montana,” he spits, but there’s a hint of insecurity in his eye.

Sighing, I run a hand down my face, stubble prickling at my palm. “It ain’t like that.”

Relief has his shoulders relax ever so slightly, but there’s still disbelief. “Yeah, right.”

“Don’t you think that if we were gonna be together we’d be married already?” I challenge, eyebrow ticking up. “We experimented together years ago.” We fucked more than a few times, but I’m sure Tyler is aware of that, so there’s no reason to rub it in his face. “We’re never going to be more than friends, so if you want him, you should probably get over the past and just fucking go for it.”

“Yeesh,” he mutters, eyes wide. “I don’t think I’ve heard you say so many words all strung together like that in… shit, months? What’s gotten into you?”

Scowling, I pass him back the fixed machine. “You need anything else?”

Knowing when to stop pushing, he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Right as I’m about to walk away and find a lemonade to chug, he adds, “So the hot guy, you got dibs?”

I stiffen, pausing. “Fuck off, Tyler.”

His responding laughter doesn’t fade until I’m far enough away from him to stop hearing it. Calling dibs on Elias would be pointless because once whatever high he was on when he called me hot wears off, he won’t look at me twice.

Only a few days later, I’m starting to wonder if Elias is experiencing some sort of crisis. True to his word, he’s been flirting with me nonstop. It shocks me every time but he just keeps doing it.

It would be annoying if it wasn’t so damn flattering. I blushed more in the past week than I have in my entire twenty-five years. If it weren’t for the sizzling Texas sun, I wouldn’t have a cover for it. Thankfully, I’ve been able to play it off as mild sunburn because the guys have noticed more than once.

I’ve never had a man pursue me the way that Elias is. He’s relentlessly flirtatious, playful, and smiley. He isn’t creeping on me like some asshole in a bar who can’t take no for an answer—and I haven’t even told him to stop.

Being treated like I’m something to be desired isn’t something I can push away. If I’m honest with myself, I fucking love it. I can’t help but smile to myself after every little interaction, knowing someone like him is interested in someone like me.

He’s got everything. Excessive wealth, power, friends, family, happiness. I don’t fit in with that. So while he’s not asking me out to a fancy dinner or something, just his open desire to “break the rules” with me is flattering beyond belief.

There ain’t any actual rules written down that say employees can’t date guests or even hook up with them, but that’s because they don’t need to be written. I know what my parents expect and sleeping with the billionaire who pays them thousands of dollars annually to get some privacy isn’t something they’d be too happy about.

Speaking of…

“I hear them boys out there talking about Mr. Masondo taking an interest in you,” my mama drawls, turning up her nose while she kneads a ball of dough.

I hadn’t intended on staying at the house for more than a glass of lemonade, but she insisted I sit to chat with her for a while as she worked on dinner. Ever since I started picking up longer hours on the ranch, she’s been complaining that I don’t spend time with her anymore.

Sighing, I shake my head. “You know how they are, mama. They’re just talkin’.”

She gives me that look she does when she’s trying to tell if I’m lying or not, and I hold her stare. Satisfied with what she finds, she nods, continuing to work her dough ball.

“That’s good,” she hums, her tone already lighter. “I don’t need my baby getting caught up by some big city man who’ll steal him away.”

Mama always grumbles about the prospect of me leaving the ranch, but I’ve been thinking about exploring the world since I learned Texas isn’t the only place that exists. First time I saw a world map I knew I wanted to see more. But here I am, still twenty-five with hardly enough money to go on a road trip for a few months, let alone hop on a plane to somewhere far far away.

“He doesn’t want to steal me away.”

Fuck me, probably, yes. Steal me away? I fucking doubt it.

“But he’s got an eye on ya?” she asks warily.

My parents have always been decent about my sexuality. They’re not hateful, but they’re kind of old and don’t always want to hear about it. Honestly, I don’t think they’d want to hear about it if I had any attraction to women either. If it ain’t about the ranch, football, or food, they ain’t all that interested.

This place is their whole lives, and if I’m being honest, I could probably go the whole rest of my life without ever coming back. I’d miss my family a little, I think. But if I had all the money I needed and nothing holding me back, I’d be gone.

“I doubt it, ma,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Think he’s just real friendly.”

“Ah,” she hums. “One of them smiley types, is he?”

You can say that again.

“Pretty sure most people would be smiling with his bank account,” I joke, still attempting to shrug her off.

It’s the wrong thing to say.

“Money don’t buy you a personality, son,” she reprimands, giving me a stern look. “Anyway, if you think he’s just nice then I feel a lot better about you helping him tomorrow.”

I frown, not knowing what she means. “Tomorrow?”

“Tyler didn’t tell ya?” she asks, clicking her tongue. “He can’t guide their hike tomorrow afternoon so you’re going to have to do it.”

Oh, fuck my life.I hate that hike.

What is even the point of scaling a mountain you’ve seen the top of a hundred times over? It’s a waste of a perfectly good afternoon. But fuck it, at least I’ll be getting paid.

Sighing, I finish off my drink and rinse my glass. “Guess I better go prep for that.”

“Mhmm,” she drawls. “You be back in time for supper.”

Wincing, I reply, “I was just going to eat at my place.”

It’s no use. I’ve been living in a loft above the equipment barn for four years now and the amount of times my mother has allowed me to eat on my own, I could count on a hand.

She doesn’t even look up from the counter. “You bring Tyler over with ya, I’m making plenty and his mama don’t feed him near enough.”

That’s because Tyler can tell his mama no.

“Yes, ma’am,” I mumble, letting myself out before she can say another word.