Chapter Five

J ax sighed and looked away from the computer screen. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, but the numbers were still a blur.

"I have no idea what I'm looking at," he said to himself.

Yeah, because all you're thinking about are yellow spaghetti straps on bronze skin, the space between her collarbones where the necklace used to be—

Shut up , he told his subconscious, who was dangerously close to the truth. Dinner had been nice, bordering on fun even, so why did that leave him even more unsettled than if it'd gone to shit, like he'd expected?

He glanced out the window. The large sycamore tree in the front yard had born its autumn fruit last week, giving birth to thousands of brownish softballs he used to love to lob at his brothers. It was the Texas version of a snowball fight, and sometimes the neighboring kids had come over for epic faceoffs. The wide, jade-green leaves danced in the gentle breeze Jax could almost feel. Gander gathered some of the fallen sycamore balls in his mouth and made a pile out of them.

Jax couldn't help but smile.

Though he caught only a whiff of the vanilla plug-in from the hallway, his brain conjured memories of the ripe, earthy musk of fall in Deer Creek. All he needed to do was step outside and smell the fresh hint of moisture from the creek, the rustle of leaves above him, the shadows of the tall cypress trees bordering the canyon that marked time as much as his grandmother's clock above the brick fireplace for himself.

Right now, those shadows said he'd spent too long looking at a flat screen and too little time outside. He pinched the bridge of his nose. The sooner he finished up, the sooner he could go for a swim in the creek.

In his head, he calculated the numbers on the email Jill sent him. They were right, but also… off somehow. He scratched his chin and tried to go over them again. No dice. It wasn't the math—that he was good at; hell, he could've gone back for a master's degree in the stuff. It was the fact that to do this job, he had to ignore the pulsing need for fresh air, for adventure, for the road that thrummed beneath his rib cage.

"Eff it," he muttered.

He closed the window and walked outside to stretch, taking his phone. It was a nice enough morning he could work outside on the smaller device. It might be slower going, but being trapped inside wasn't getting anything done, either. At least out here, he could let the ranch distract him rather than thoughts of his neighbor in a sexy sundress.

Gander walked past him with a blanket in his mouth.

"Where you going with that, buddy?"

Gander ignored him and trotted toward the canyon at a clip.

"Alright, buddy. Take care of yourself," he said more to himself than the dog that was already out of sight. The mutt hadn't been around at all for almost two weeks now. Jax turned his attention back to the spreadsheet on his screen.

Why didn't these numbers match his? Even with the new amortization schedule, the final tally of costs, profit margins, and units sold balanced for the year, but these monthly numbers didn't.

Huh. There it was.

The discrepancy was in the delivery cost. MBE ran their costs quarterly, and Steel Born apparently did their accounting bimonthly. He tapped REPLY before shaking his head.

"She's right next door," he mumbled to himself.

Sliding his phone back in his jeans, he headed through the dirt path between Bennett's ranch and the Newman property. It cut through a small hole in the razor wire Bennett had made when he and Maggie dated back in high school. The secret entrance to each property somehow escaped the notice of both fathers, but cooler still was the fact that the path was still worn down to the dusty valley floor. The two must still use it, even though Maggie had lived at Bennett's since their wedding.

They'd be cute if they weren't so nauseatingly perfect. They complemented each other at home and through their companies, they loved and respected the other for who they were now, not what they'd been to each other all those years ago, and damned if they didn't PDA like high schoolers on prom night.

Barely escaping the torn sheath of razor wire without it tearing a hole in his chambray, Jax stood tall. That little portal wasn't for the faint of heart. Or six-foot-four cowboys.

He opened his mouth, a quip about Jill's bookkeeping on his lips by way of a greeting, but it lodged in his throat. A cough was all that made it through.

Jill Henley in a sleek pantsuit, hair as manicured as her nails—which was to say very—left enough of an impact on him and the adolescent fantasies she drummed up. The yellow sundress had almost done him in. But bent down in a pair of worn cutoff jeans, a ribbed tank top exposing the tops of some pretty damn perfect breasts?

Shit. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry as the top of the canyon.

She was hunched over a mower that looked as if it'd gotten tangled up in the rocky field. His fingers itched. They craved to help her fix whatever issue had her curvy backside up in the air, long, tanned legs stretched beneath her like an invitation to a party he really wanted to attend.

Then again, he liked the view where he was.

She ran her hands through her wild curls, and jealousy at not being the one to feel those tendrils weaving through his own fingers consumed him. She dragged a grease-stained forearm along her forehead before settling her hands on her slender waist, and he longed to be those hands.

She kicked the tire of the mower, and he stifled a laugh. Okay, maybe it was time for him to pitch in.

Before he could announce his arrival, his phone rang. He winced. Damn, he should've turned the ringer down. Jill shot a glance his way, and he waved slowly, embarrassed at being caught ogling her. Her lips settled deeper into a scowl with every chime of his phone that echoed off the canyon walls.

"Yeah?" he answered. "Sorry," he mouthed to her. She ignored his apology and went back to fiddling with the wrench and lug nuts.

"That your way of saying hello?" Bennett asked.

"I guess." He made his way to the mower and held his hand out. She slapped the wrench in his palm and stood, brushing off her jean shorts. Jax swallowed hard. Aside from her dinner attire the other night, she'd never worn anything but slacks or boujee new jeans since she rode her Mercedes into town. And don't think he didn't dream of peeling those fancy city clothes off her curves and laying kisses over her expanse. But holy hell had he underestimated what seeing her in cutoffs would do. Namely make his own jeans a little tighter around the zipper.

"Tire or axle?" he whispered to Jill, covering the mouthpiece. She pointed to the tire. That was an easier fix, but that meant he'd be out of here sooner and he kinda liked the way her vanilla-laced scent mixed with the sweat of her exertion.

"Whataya want?" he asked Bennett.

"Just to see if you've had any hits on the ranch hand gig. I gave both our numbers in the ad."

"Nope," Jax said, throwing his weight into the torque. The wrench barely gave. Damn. Who'd tightened this thing last?

"You'd think it would be easier to find help when you run a million-dollar-a-year franchise, but damned if this isn't like when we first started."

We. He hadn't started anything except answering Bennett's call when Jax was laid up in the ER with a concussion. Their dad had run Matt off two years earlier and Bennett was dead set on fixing up the derelict property their dad had left when he passed a year later. Jax didn't have much else going on—concussion protocol for his rodeo team said three months off, minimum—so he'd said yes, thinking it would be a temporary gig.

Now, a decade later, he wasn't so sure. Even with a new job on the horizon, one that shook off the cobwebs that had been brewing in Jax's stomach for a while now, he felt the duty to his family like a noose around his neck. It was getting harder to forget it was there, waiting for him to slip.

This time, the frustration of old memories behind his weight, he spun the lug nut. "Well, sooner or later, things'll even out. It's just been a good year, rain wise, so other ranches are coming back. Good help is harder to find when everyone's breaking even."

"Good point. And I'm glad things are turning around for our neighbors. Just wish it wasn't feast or famine."

"Yup. Well, I'll keep you posted. Gotta run something by Henley."

"Tell Jill we say hello."

Jax nodded even though his brother couldn't see him, then hung up, taking Jill's scowl to mean he should hurry this along and get to the reason he was on her property. And keep his gaze off her tan, long legs.

"Bennett and Maggie say hi."

The pregnant newlyweds were still shacked up at the main house on Bennett's property while they waited to see if Maggie's morning sickness subsided. Jax figured he couldn't complain about being able to work outside in Deer Creek when his brother arguably had it worse. It wasn't the town that was the problem; it was the sitting behind the desk and missing out on the town.

"They send you over here to stare at me like you've never seen a woman in shorts before?"

Jax grinned. Caught red-handed.

He shrugged. "No, that was all me," he admitted. "But I come with some elbow grease, so can I get off with a warning?"

The corner of her mouth kicked up just enough to make him believe it'd happened.

"Was that a smile, Jill Henley? Well, I never—"

"Shut up and fix my lawn mower." She crossed her arms over her chest, but the smile was full-fledged, ready to fly the coop. It looked good on her, but then, what didn't?

"So, what happened here?" he asked, holding up a shredded piece of rubber. "Looks like it was mauled by that mama black bear we've got roaming the creek side. Can you hand me that screwdriver?" he asked.

Jill's eyes grew as she passed Jax the flathead. "There's bears here? But we're in Texas."

"Don't tell them that." Jax had the tire off, but peeling it from the rim was gonna be difficult in the shape it was in. "But yeah, a mama and her cub meandered down here from the mountains during the drought last year and—how do I say this without sounding like a crackpot? They sorta fell in love with my brother and Maggie."

"They what ?"

"Maggie told you about the fire in the canyon?" Jill nodded and took the screwdriver back. Jax flexed his fingers so he wouldn't be tempted to brush back the strand of hair that kept coming untucked from behind her ear. "Maggie and Bennett saved them, so they took up residence. They keep their distance, but you can spot 'em from time to time in the canyon."

"She neglected to tell me she had a pet bear when she invited me."

Jax laughed, and when Jill joined him, he damn near dropped the new tire.

"You know, it's not a federal offense—even in Texas—to let that thing loose every now and then," he teased.

"I'll have you know I laugh plenty when I'm not with you."

"Ouch," Jax said, miming being stabbed in the heart with the wrench. "Colonel Henley, in the field, with words sharper than a knife."

"Huh?" she asked.

"You never played Clue as a kid?"

This time, her laugh opened up a space in his chest, letting a little of the midday light in.

Careful. Don't get used to that. He wouldn't. It was pretty common knowledge he wasn't the relationship type. He'd had his heart broken, then went on to break his fair share. That was the story for a lot of folks to some degree. But how could he commit to one person when he wasn't sure how he'd take care of them in the future? Better to bet on himself so he was the only one he hurt if he fell short.

"Got it. Anyway, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but for whatever reason, you and I haven't been able to find shared ground, have we?"

Jax shook his head. "No, we haven't. That doesn't mean we can't try." He tightened the last lug nut and sat back on the dirt. "Man, I haven't had a tire give me that much trouble since I got my first flat on the 40."

"Thanks for your help." She sat back with him, looking every bit like she fought the mower and lost. Grease and dirt streaked her skin like gray and brown watercolor Rorschach tattoos. It was cute.

"Any time. Why were you mowing and fixing this thing anyway? Doesn't Maggie have a whole crew to maintain the property now that she's over at Bennett's?"

"She does, but most of them are off in the fields, prepping for the autumn cattle drive; others quit and moved to where there's more full-time work. It's like you said, finding people to fill vacant spots isn't easy when the getting's good."

"Truer words," Jax mused.

"Anyway, I figured I'd help out since I'm waiting on Orin to get back to me on our new catalog and things are going okay with MBE. Thanks for that, by the way; having you help on those orders since you know both is an unexpected benefit to having a guy on board."

"Um, thanks?" He smiled, then shrugged. "It's my job."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Not sure what you mean by that."

Jill surveyed him through wary green eyes that reminded him of the sycamore flowers in bloom. "I mean you don't love it—this or working for your brother. It's just a job."

He laughed, but it sounded shallow to his ears. "Yeah, that's not a state secret, Henley. But Bennett and Maggie need help. So—"

"So you gave up on your own plans?"

She got it—this thing that had been plaguing him his whole life—which was alluring as all heck. Hell, everything about the woman was alluring. But that didn't mean anything, not when the same thing she understood would keep him from following through on any promise he could make to her.

She licked her lips and blew a puff of air to move the rogue curl that fell over her eyes, and he kinda wished things could be different.

Why can't they? You don't have to marry the woman to enjoy being around her.

Maybe there was some truth to that, and they could find a way to that common ground they'd talked about.

He was game if she was.

"I'm gonna run these tools back to the house, and then I wanna show you something, okay?"

*

As soon as Jax jogged off, Jill caught a hint of movement along the edge of her vision.

Squinting, she saw a copse of dyed-purple hair peeking out from the juniper bushes lining Maggie's driveway.

"I can see you back there. Come on over."

The purple hair was attached to a strong but gangly young woman with a bandana tied around her neck and oil-stained jeans that looked lived in. Her quivering bottom lip made her look nervous, but it was offset by the way she drew her bony shoulders back and kept her chin raised.

Jill stuck out her hand. "I'm Jill. I don't own the property, but I'm staying here. What brought you here?"

"I'm Caitlyn. Are you the Marshall Ranch?" the young woman asked.

She shook Jill's hand while her focused gaze took in the backyard.

"I'm not. That's next door. You replying to the ad? They'll be happy to see you."

The young woman couldn't have been more than nineteen, but the frown on her face aged her a bit.

"Ya think so?"

"Sure. They're looking for help and I'd bet you're looking for work. Why wouldn't they be happy?"

Caitlyn shrugged. "Not many people 'round here like women on a ranch."

"You have a lot of experience with horses?"

"Some. Mostly ranch equipment and machines and that, actually. But I can ride."

Jill's senses were acutely aware of something just outside her field of vision.

"Machinery, huh? You go to school for mechanics or anything?"

"No. I'd like to, but it's expensive. My dad taught me some before he passed away and the rest I taught myself. Not much you can't find on YouTube these days."

Jill's stomach fluttered. Was it this easy, the answer to what she needed to do to keep Steel Born afloat? God, she hoped so, mostly because the idea filled her with a joy she hadn't felt in months. Years, even.

"Hmm. Do you have a resumé or anything I can look at? The Marshalls need ranch hands, but I'm looking for someone to work for me."

"What do you do?" Caitlyn asked.

"I co-run a female-owned ranch supply company. We build and design machines that make ranch life easier."

"No way. That sounds kinda perfect, actually. And you'd hire me?"

"If you show me what you can do. We'd even be willing to fund some of your education if you agree to work for us long enough." She was spit-balling, but it made sense as she was saying it. More than anything else had, ever.

Caitlyn's eyes got as big as Lily's food bowl. The idea excited her, too.

"No shit?" She scrunched up her nose. "Sorry."

Jill smiled. "No apologies. Are you interested? I'd just need to see where you've worked and have you list your skills out so I can match them—" she started.

"I-I don't really write," Caitlyn shot back. "I mean, I can't. I'm dyslexic, so it comes out all garbled." The young woman bit her bottom lip and moisture lined her eyes. "But I love working with gears and stuff. If you just let me try."

Jill looked down at the camera in her hands. "Could you show me if you had a camera?"

"I have my phone that takes pretty decent pictures. I guess I could film some of what I do and talk through my methods, maybe take some stills of work I've done already?"

A smile erupted on Jill's face as she nodded. She knew just what to do to make Steel Born sustainable and how to keep an influx of young—and female—engineering talent fostered and supported. They'd run an internship program that they'd announce at the CAF in a couple weeks. Take engineering and STEM students, with a preference for females or female-identifying students who didn't have the same possibilities as their male counterparts. They could do the same with business students as the time came.

The idea came fully formed and desperate for execution. "Okay. Do that and bring it by next week and I'll look it over. Until then, if you want temporary work, go next door, but tell them I've got you as soon as I get your digital resumé."

Caitlyn nodded, her smile genuine and sweet. Jill would bet she hadn't been given many yeses in her life. When the girl was out of sight, Jill let out a laugh, picked a piece of dry grass, and twirled it between her fingers. Meeting Caitlyn was a strike of good fortune, indeed. If she could get the young woman trained on the business side of things, maybe she could dispatch Jax to whatever path he was waiting to walk down.

You really want him to leave? her heart asked. No, she didn't. But he was going to, and so was she; this wasn't her home, even though it was starting to feel like it could be.

The puffy white clouds above her stayed pinned in place, dappling the lime and jade field with perfect cylindrical shadows. Thankfully, the winter winds were still a ways off.

She leaned back against the mower, grateful for the moment of respite. If she'd stayed with Henley Corp., she'd be on the road visiting places like this, appreciating the allure of small-town life. But she wouldn't know it like she was starting to know Deer Creek. A night or two in each place, fancy restaurants, and then onto the next.

No spontaneous card games in Mae's like she'd happened up on the night before when she snuck into town for a vanilla tart. No morning walks along Main Street where people were starting to wave and greet her by name. No curling up on the couch with her best friend while they watched a rom-com.

Beyond making her own way, beyond distancing herself from the rodeo and all that came with it, she wanted stability. Waking up in the same place, finding a coffee shop that got to know her order, maybe even meeting a set of friends she could talk into starting a book club with her—that was the life she craved. A life neither Liam nor her parents could have shared with her.

At one point, she'd thought she'd found that life in her nook of the city. But baristas came and went according to their school schedules, all her Alamo Heights neighbors had moved when the neighborhood gentrified, and she wasn't sure she shouldn't follow suit.

Waking up in the same place wasn't worth it if the place changed and lost its uniqueness and culture more and more each month.

Maybe there was something to this Deer Creek thing. It'd hooked Maggie, a woman who knew both worlds and had sworn never to move back to the ranch or small town that had raised her. If they could both help other young women following in their stead, that would be the perfect gift back to the community that had supported them both.

The test was in the reception at the Texas Cattleman's Association Fair. If her idea, as exciting as it was to her, didn't get the same reception there, it would be harder to get it off the ground.

"A penny for your thoughts," Jax offered, slamming shut the dilapidated shed door and fastening the lock. He'd put back together the toolbox she'd nabbed from Maggie's shed, and she'd let him. There was no rule stating that a woman who forged her own path couldn't accept help every now and then. Especially from a local handsome cowboy.

In fact, in the world she and Maggie dreamed up when they were new to San Antonio, they'd both hoped for a handsome cowboy to distract them on weekends. In Jill's own world, though, a rodeo man was off-limits, and Jax? Well, you could take him out of the rodeo, but you couldn't ride the rodeo out of him.

"Just thinking about a couple things."

"Like?" he asked, sliding his feet out in front of him and joining her in the dirt. He popped his ball cap high on his head and focused his gaze on her.

She filled him in on her strange interaction with the girl who'd materialized on the property, giving her an answer to everything.

"That's a helluva cool idea, Jill."

"I think so. We'll see what the CAF thinks, but it seems perfect."

He smiled and nodded his agreement. "What else is on your mind?"

"Hmm. Deer Creek, actually." She grabbed her phone and opened it to the camera, stealing a shot of him with his eyes closed and a relaxed smile that caused a dimple where she hadn't seen one before. The dirt smudge on his face was a nice juxtaposition to the cloud of dust behind him where some cattle were making a fuss.

"What about it? There's not much here worth thinking about."

She cocked her head when his eyes opened. "Maybe. I mean, there's no night clubs, no theaters, no fancy restaurants."

"Austin's only a couple miles away and has all that. Deer Creek is its quieter sister. Much quieter."

"Exactly. You have peace and quiet and nature to explore if you want, and then the city when that gets claustrophobic. It's the best of both worlds, isn't it?"

She was starting to believe it, which unsettled her stomach as much as it settled her heart. She'd built a life around the city; if it turned out it wasn't for her, then what?

Jax propped his elbow languidly on one knee while his other leg played in front of him. He tilted the ball cap back on his head and turned toward her, looking every bit like a poster model of cowboy living.

How many women would be willing to give up life in the city and the bankers that came with it if they could rope a cowboy like Jax?

Too bad he didn't want to be in Deer Creek, either.

"Hmm. I hadn't thought of it like that. I guess I've always seen this place through self-imposed prison bars. It's nice but pretty solitary."

She'd been of the same mind when she first got here, but she'd found a rhythm, and now she couldn't believe she had only a couple weeks left.

"Yeah, I get that. But I dunno. I feel that same kinda solitude in the city if I'm being honest. No black bears there, but it's pretty lonely most of the time."

Especially since Maggie had moved out.

Jax shrugged, his signature move, she was beginning to notice. It meant he was sloughing off what bothered him. Did it work? If so, she might give it a whirl.

"That's why I think I need a little of both. I want to travel and see what the world has to offer before I settle in one place. Have a family," she added.

"You want kids?" he asked. His brows drew close, his lips pursed.

"I do. A whole brood. I hated being an only child growing up. I want my kiddos to know and love and fight with each other and the joy that kind of noise brings to a household."

"The chaos, you mean?"

She laughed, threw her shoulders back. "I dunno. Sometimes, I'm sure, but my house was so quiet growing up it felt like a tomb the few times we were all at home. I'd prefer the crazy, I guess. When they're older, at least they'll have someone to count on if I'm not there. If anything happened to my parents, I'd be alone."

She followed Jax's gaze as it left hers, but it didn't meet anything in particular on the horizon. Where were his thoughts, then?

"I don't think kids are in the cards for me."

A stone dropped in Jill's stomach, though she couldn't figure out why for the life of her. How Jackson Marshall felt about kids wasn't any of her business. She'd only really known him a few months, and even though they'd been getting along, what was she expecting? That he'd gaze lovingly into her eyes and say he, too, wanted a big family?

No, she'd known he was a lone wolf from the minute Maggie told her about the shenanigans he got into as a teen. All evidence since confirmed that. And besides, physical attraction—even one as intense as what Jax made her feel—did not a relationship make.

She cleared her throat, which had gone dry in the past few minutes. "Why not?"

"I had the opposite experience growing up."

"Weren't you and your brother close?"

" Brothers , and yeah, we were, but it wasn't the fairy tale you think it was."

Jill tucked her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, cold all of a sudden.

"Why not?"

"Did Maggie tell you about our dad?"

She nodded. It was a horrible story of him running their family business into the ground only to die when the boys were teens, leaving them penniless. Bennett had brought them back from the brink of losing the house and ranch, righting the ship so severely he made them all millionaires with his uncanny business sense.

"How about Matt?"

Jill shook her head. "Is he the other brother you mentioned?"

"Yeah. He's the oldest." Jax paused. Jill pretended not to notice the water brimming along his bottom eyelids. "Anyway, he and my dad fought tooth and nail; Matt had the same love for the ranch Bennett did but two years' more experience. Our dad ran him off, and Matt hasn't been back since."

"That's awful," Jill said.

To lose a sibling because of a parent's negligence and abuse? Was there anything more heartbreaking? It explained Grace's sadness the other night. The woman was strong but held an air of grief like a shawl around her shoulders.

There was the shrug again, though it seemed heavier and harder to do this time around. Jax smiled, but it wasn't his usual laid-back, laissez-faire one.

"Yeah, mainly because if my deadbeat brother stuck around, maybe Bennett wouldn't need me. I wasn't the brother he wanted to go into business with anyway; I was the JV to Matt's varsity."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"It is, but it doesn't matter. What's done is done, and Bennett's got me," Jax said, effectively squashing any further discussion. "Maybe if he finds the right person to hire, he won't care that I can't do this anymore."

"You still haven't told him?" Jill asked. He winced, and she put a hand on his arm. The heat from the sun had warmed it. "Sorry. I just thought you'd said something."

"No. I kinda wanted to see how the CAF does. Maybe I can find someone there to take my place and it won't be an issue."

"I dunno. I think Bennett won't need that to care about what happens to you. His ranch is his business, but you're family."

Another shrug. "Maybe."

A turkey vulture soared overhead, caught on a thermal as its gaze scoured the terrain for bite-sized rodents for a midday snack. It had a singular purpose, as they all did. Was this Jax's, or was he right? Was he a stand-in for someone else? If the latter was true, what was his purpose? She'd known he was offered another job, but he hadn't yet said what that was.

If he never pursued the new gig, he might never know if it was a better fit, but the idea of him not in Deer Creek when Jill came to visit Maggie sorta broke her heart.

She understood him on a cellular level.

On one hand, she empathized with Jax's need to move, since he'd grown up in a postage-stamp town where not only did the local coffee shop know his order but his business, too.

It was the opposite of Jill's childhood spent on the road in new places each week. She'd been homeschooled and never made any real friends till Maggie.

On the other hand, she couldn't imagine leaving a supportive mom like Grace or a brother as devoted as Bennett.

She and Jax were different, but not when it came to the reasons for their differences—their families had shaped them both, for better or worse.

"Family drama aside, this is nice," she said.

"How's that?" His lips quirked up in a tentative half smile. "You mean taking in the first bout of good weather we've had where we're not worried about if rain'll come?"

"Sure. But also talking to you and not tearing at each other's throats. It's nice just… I dunno. Hanging out."

He leaned over and nudged her shoulder with his. His eyes were brighter than the afternoon sun and this close, their gaze burned into her heart. Why did she feel so seen by a man who was so diametrically opposed to her way of life?

"Agreed. Maybe it's the start of that common ground we were looking for. All we needed to do was sit still and let it come to us."

Jill smiled.

What was best for her always had. But there was that small flutter in her stomach. Unwanted, unappreciated feelings that couldn't take root. Ones where she wished she and Jax had met before they'd both been damaged by the cards they'd dealt one another. Or that they'd been playing the same game in the first place.

But that wasn't life. You didn't wish on a star in the desert canyon sky and get what you wanted. Jill ran a handful of the cut grass through her fingers, holding back giggles as it tickled her palm.

A tall figure clad in the complete ranching uniform she'd come to appreciate around town—a Stetson, button-down shirt, jeans, and snakeskin boots—walked the edge of the two properties. Where the girl's brightly colored hair had stood out, this man looked the same as all the men in Deer Creek. Just half their age.

"Who's that?" she asked.

Jax glanced over. "Probably someone here to answer Bennett's advertisement."

"Hmmm. Looks young."

"He does. Maybe that means he's hungry and will stick around a while."

Will you? she wanted to ask. Stick around a while?

"What brought you over here, anyway? Because I know it wasn't to help me fix this piece of crap," she asked instead.

"Doesn't matter. I'll run it by you later. Right now, we've got some more common ground to find." And there was his other signature gesture—his million-watt smile that somehow turned her skin hot and her insides to mush.

"Oh, yeah? Whataya have in mind?"

Jax's smile turned positively wicked.

"Jackson Marshall—"

"No, not that, Henley. Get your mind out of the gutter. But I promise it'll be fun and productive."

"Productive, hmm?" She wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow, but it was like throwing deck chairs off the sinking Titanic . She needed a thorough scrubbing to wash off the start to her day. "Well, when you put it that way…" She smiled, and her brain coughed out a warning.

Stick to the plan. Finish this month with Steel Born in the black and get an ownership stake in the company. Get the internship program up and running. Then she could flirt with the handsome cowboy.

On paper that was a good plan, but the sun beat down on her shoulders and a breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers ruffled her matted hair. It tickled her skin, reminding her of the almost-forgotten pleasure of summers outside as a child. She closed her eyes and let the day settle warm on her skin.

When had it changed to all work, work, work? She didn't mind diligently pursuing her passion, but this was an unexpected joy, the pleasure of working hard, manual labor that produced results.

Well, results half owed to the man she'd been trying fruitlessly not to think about, but still…

Now that he'd helped her with the tire, saving her at least an hour's worth of work, she could afford a little break, couldn't she? Anyway, wasn't fun okay when it was productive?

Not even her brain could conjure a response to that, so she nodded and took the hand he offered, ignoring the heat that pulsed between them. That was not at all productive.

"Okay, Marshall. Lead the way."