Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

Jarom enjoyed chatting with Mama and Easton through breakfast. He stayed close to Autumn, which seemed to bother Easton and impress Mama. He got the impression Mama didn’t want Autumn going after Easton. He agreed with her. The breakfast was a delicious spread of breakfast burritos and fruit parfaits. Autumn gradually relaxed around Mama, and he and Easton were able to tease her and draw her out more.

After breakfast, he and Autumn helped clean up. Easton had to go feed his horses ‘second breakfast’, then he’d go to his cabin to shower and come back so they could plan their day. Easton would be Autumn’s partner bodyguard for the next little while. His twin Walker and his new wife Marci would be there for dinner tonight and Walker could spell him off if needed. His older brother Clint, the sheriff in town, would come by in a couple days when his fiancée was on a shift at the hospital in Kalispell.

Jarom liked Easton. The cowboy was a nice guy, funny, and confident. He just didn’t like the cowboy being around Autumn. A little healthy competition he didn’t mind, but he was out of his element this time. First of all, he was certain Autumn was more important to him than any other woman he’d been drawn to. Second, he didn’t have his closet full of flattering, tailor-made men’s wear, cologne designed to complement his body chemistry, his fleet of vehicles and private jet, and opportunities to take her on epic dates that would impress any lady. Third, he didn’t know if Autumn was drawn to the smooth billionaire or the tough cowboy type. Fourth, what if Autumn truly wouldn’t let her heart of iron be penetrated?

He and Autumn climbed the stairs, and she checked his suite. He edged into his bedroom and leaned against the door jam, admiring her as she finished checking the closet and strode toward him. Her cheeks flushed as she met his gaze.

“I guess it’s time to don the jeans and boots, or wear the clothes you worked out in,” she teased as she stopped a foot away.

“You’re enjoying me being thrown out of my element, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Is it a sucker punch right to the abdomen?”

“Worse,” he said, tilting his head and folding his arms over his chest. Her eyes trailed to his biceps and stayed there until he spoke again. “How does a classy billionaire recover from wearing no-name jeans and boots?”

She laughed. “I think you’ll survive. You’ll be grateful there are no cameras to play for up here.”

It was odd not having most of his life videoed or photographed. He had an entire team who dealt with his public persona. He wondered how Isabella and all of his CEOs, managers, and team leaders were holding up without him. It was intriguing how distant he felt from his normal life, and he strangely didn’t miss the nonstop phone calls, emails, meetings, and demands that made up his days.

“I don’t know about that. If there were cameras to play for, we’d have the blessed opportunity to fake an engagement.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “There would be definite advantages to that arrangement.”

Her brows lifted, but she didn’t engage. “Aiden’s tech team sent your texts and emails to me. When would you like to go through them?” Her voice was tight.

He wondered what she’d seen. Texts from other women? Was there jealousy in that tone? That boded well for him.

“After we shower, I’ll ask Jared if I can transfer them to his computer. I can go through them and delete or deal with issues much faster.” He liked to ‘touch’ each of his companies at least once a day. His people were top notch and wouldn’t fold without him—some would even soar given the opportunity—but it was a shift not to be part of it all. “Did Aiden explain my absence to my assistant Isabelle and my other team members?”

“It’s Aiden, so I would imagine so. Okay. I’ll be waiting for you after you shower, and we’ll figure out the computer thing.”

“Thank you, but I’m certain I’ll be the one waiting for you after the shower.”

She guffawed. “Who are you lying to now? We both know you’re prissier than I am, and you’ve got to figure out how to make cowboy boots and jeans fit your metro style.”

Jarom hated that she’d called him prissy. Sure, he was metro and classy, but he wasn’t some girly-man. “I have news for you, Miss Cardon.”

“Oh.” Her mouth formed an O. It was adorable and alluring. “What’s that? ”

“First, I can make any style of clothing look good.”

“I’m sure you can,” she said, looking him over carefully. His blood ran hotter.

“And I can definitely shower quicker than you.”

“We’ll see.” She darted past him.

Jarom grasped her around the waist, lifted her off her feet, spun her around, and pinned her against the wall. She was closer to his height with him holding her aloft. He could feel the bulge of the gun in her pocket. The fact that she was armed and could protect him only added to her allure.

She yanked in a breath and stared at him, her eyes sparkling like pure gold. “Nice move, Mr. Love.”

“Thank you.”

“You are aware that I can drop you to the floor in pure agony or break all manner of bones from this position.”

“I am now.” He wouldn’t show his concern. Instead, he smiled gallantly. “But love, I don’t believe you want to hurt me.”

“Don’t test me.” She was still smiling. He thought he might be safe. Might.

“Forgive me. I simply wanted to show that I possess a few quick moves as well.”

“Noted.” She was decidedly out of breath. “I’ll be rushing for the shower now, and beating you done.”

He chuckled, but before he could react, she grabbed his forearm and applied pressure of the most painful sort. He gasped for air and released her. She dropped lightly to the floor, darted out of his arms and out the door, slamming it behind her.

Jarom shook out his arm and laughed. She was a delightful challenge and so much more. He hurried to the shower, rushing through it but careful to make sure he used the body wash. He might not smell like himself, but he could at least not smell like perspiration.

He dried off and brushed his hair and teeth. With no hair products, he went for the mussed look, hoping Autumn liked that as well as his usual suave style. He applied deodorant, was grateful his esthetician and hairstylist Marlene had come by a couple days ago to give him a facial, shave his neck, shape his eyebrows, and trim his hair, beard, and mustache. She would be aghast at him not using the products she insisted on. He might not thrive, but he’d survive.

Jogging into the closet, he frowned as he opened a pair of thankfully new boxers, pulled them on, and perused the rest of the selection. Had Easton picked such clothing to poke fun at him? He’d never been tempted by a cowboy phase like some of his friends had done in high school or college to woo the ladies or annoy their parents. Jarom always got plenty of female attention and simply appreciated the way high-quality fashion fit and felt. Especially the clothing he’d personally designed. There was nothing wrong with that. Fashion was a significant but not essential part of his life.

He sorted through the stack of Ariat and Wrangler jeans. He knew the western-type brands. They were a thick weave, a decent denim blend that would last a long time and keep the cold out. He rarely wore jeans, but he did own a few pairs of Amiri and the new Japanese jeans that were all the rave.

Picking a pair of dark-wash Ariat jeans, he slid into them. They fit tighter than the slacks he was used to and were not comfortable and soft like his own slacks, dress pants, and joggers. He pulled on a light blue Carhartt T-shirt. It was a thick cotton pile and hung well on his chest and arms.

Tugging some thick socks on, he was tempted to put his boat shoes back on but thought, what the heck, when in Rome. He sorted through the boots and pulled on a nice pair of brown leather Ariats. He walked back into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. All he was missing was the hat and belt buckle. Eighty percent of the world, and even some good friends, wouldn’t recognize him right now. If he put a hat on, it would probably only be his own mother who could pick him out of a crowd of two.

He remembered, too late, that he’d been in a competition to shower and get ready quicker than Autumn. Shoot. He hurried out of the bathroom, taking long strides through the bedroom and flinging the door open.

Autumn was waiting in the hallway. She looked gorgeous as ever wearing a white sweatshirt and pink joggers, her dark hair wet and only mascara and lip gloss on to enhance her beauty. He was accustomed to most women wearing a thick barrier of beauty products. He savored Autumn’s gorgeous simplicity.

“Ha! I beat …” Her gaze trailed over him, and she simply stared.

Jarom didn’t know if she was going to laugh at him or tell him he looked good. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt self-conscious. He set the trends and usually impressed even the most critical in the fashion world. Right now … He shifted his weight from boot to boot, surprised that they were comfortable, and said, “I know. The look is all wrong. It was the best option I had.” He looked away.

A few beats passed.

“Jarom.”

His gaze swung back to her. Her golden eyes were liquid pools.

“Yes?”

“It’s a very nice look on you. I mean, I prefer the Love designer suits, but this is nothing to complain about.”

“Oh.” He relaxed. “Thank you. I wasn’t certain … I prefer my own designs as well.” He raised his hands. “Would you believe I’ve never lacked confidence in my apparel before?”

She chuckled at that. “I would believe that. You’re a fashionista.”

Their gazes tangled and the compliments she’d given him were an understatement to the appreciation in her eyes.

“Shall we go sort through emails?” she asked.

“What a thrilling offer, love. I’ll take it.”

She beamed at him. Every look, every word seemed meaningful with her. Jarom called everyone from darling little girls at church to gorgeous dates on Friday night to his grandmother and her sassy group of friends ‘love’. Even more fun that it was his last name. It didn’t mean much to him. With Autumn, he wanted the word to be meaningful. He wanted her to know she could be his love, that she could be his everything.

They walked down the short hall and the steps. Jared was in the security office. He gave Jarom a once over but didn’t say anything about the clothing. He readily agreed to let them use the office computer and directed them into the day-lit room adjacent to the security center and typed in the password. Within a few moments, Jarom had transferred dozens of text messages and hundreds of emails from Autumn’s phone. Usually he’d make a phone call in response to most emails. He preferred the more personal form of communication, but emailing would be quicker and almost as effective.

“Pardon me for a few moments, love,” he said to Autumn, sitting at the desk with the computer .

“Looks like more than a few minutes,” she said. There was a bite to her voice.

He glanced at her. “Is everything all right?”

“Perfect.”

He waited, studying her. Usually he didn’t let work emails sit, but this was an extreme situation and Autumn’s concerns took precedence for him.

“How do you have dozens of texts and missed phone calls from women overnight?” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms as if she didn’t care. It was more than obvious she did.

Jarom withheld any impulse to smile or tease. He stood. He had her by almost a foot. He bent down and cupped her smooth cheek. Would she punch him? He didn’t let himself look for the sucker punch, simply focused on her golden eyes.

“Love, I swear to you that those women are all nice ladies, interesting, beautiful …”

Her jaw tightened and that punch might be coming quick, or maybe she’d break his arm this time.

“None of them hold a candle to you or captivate me as only you can do. Would you like me to politely explain I am no longer available for any kind of social engagement? That my time and my heart will be completely absorbed by my beautiful bodyguard for the undetermined future?”

She didn’t jab her hard fist into his gut. Sadly, she didn’t respond either. He almost bent lower, lifted her up, and kissed her to show how serious he was about this.

The front door opened and closed. He still didn’t move, but Autumn did. She pulled away and spun to face Easton as he strutted in. Jarom straightened, lifted a hand, and turned back to the computer.

He focused first on typing quickly to his assistant Isabelle. She would take care of everything that his CEOs and managers couldn’t oversee.

It was hard enough to focus when he wanted to know if Autumn wanted him to reject every other woman. It got even worse when Easton started in on the annoying flirtations with Autumn. They laughed and teased and though Autumn acted more like it was funny than romantic, she still engaged.

“Have you seen Stranger Things ? Because it’s the strangest thing you don’t share my last name,” Easton teased.

Jarom tried to block out their voices.

An hour later, he was caught up enough to interrupt Autumn and Easton’s exchange. He stood and stretched. “How do we spend the day now?”

“Well, I’ve got to train,” Easton said. “I know you’re both dying to come watch.”

“Certainly,” Jarom said.

“I’d love to watch you train,” Autumn said, making Jarom’s gut churn.

“All right. Let’s do this.”

Twenty minutes later, they stood outside a corral. Autumn had a sweatshirt on and Jarom had donned one of those plaid jackets. It was surprisingly soft, warm, and comfortable. Maybe cowboys weren’t all about tight and functional clothing.

Several men were assisting Easton. They’d introduced themselves; apparently they worked on the ranch but were trained as security guards. They were each former military and had the weapons and burly builds to prove it. Impressive.

Now Easton was on a bull, wide and ferocious looking. Jarom had no desire to prove he was tough by getting anywhere near that beast.

One of the other cowboys slapped a belt of sorts on the bull’s rump as another one opened the ‘chute’ they called it. The bull raced into the enclosure and the cowboy slammed the door behind him. Easton clung to the saddle horn with one hand, his other hand waving wildly about as he whooped as if he were having the time of his life and the bull ‘bucked’ him.

Jarom clung to the railing, certain the cowboy would be killed in front of them.

Easton lost his cowboy hat first, and then the bull flung his hind end so high in the air Easton’s grip was yanked free and he went flying over the front of the bull. The other cowboys were immediately there, both on horses.

Easton rolled to his feet, sprinted for the nearest railing, and flung himself up and out of the pen. One of the cowboys yanked the belt they’d slapped on the bull off, another one opened a door, and they somehow guided the terrifying creature back out of the pen.

“Woohoo!” Easton whooped, jogging around the enclosure to them. “What did you think?”

“Impressive,” Jarom admitted.

“Definitely,” Autumn echoed. “But also terrifying. How do you not die?”

“The toughest female bodyguard in the world is asking me, a humble bull rider, how I don’t die?” Easton put his hand to his chest, smirking. “I’m flattered.”

One of the cowboys leapt off his horse, grabbed Easton’s cowboy hat, and jogged over to the railing they stood by. “Seven seconds,” he crowed.

“Not good enough.” Easton grinned. “Has to be eight to count.” He winked at Autumn. “Excuse me, beautiful, while I have another go at her.”

“Best of luck.”

Jarom squinted at the handsome cowboy. He was dusty and sweaty and probably appealing as all get out to Autumn. No way could Jarom compete with someone like Easton. Was that her type? It had to be. Jarom wasn’t one to brag, but he was one of the most desired bachelors on the planet. And here he found himself wondering why an ultra tough woman like Autumn would want a preppy billionaire.

He had to cast his doubts aside, be confident, and redouble his efforts to catch her attention and win her heart.

What if he didn’t stand a chance with the only woman who was right for him?