“Chase,” Harry greets me in the foyer. “I haven’t had a chance to introduce you to Melinda, my lovely wife.” He gestures to an attractive, older, more poised version of Blaire. The resemblance is uncanny. It’s like looking at a more refined, less carefree version of her daughter. There’s no doubt in my mind now, Blaire will always be stunning.

I take her hand in mine. “How do you do? It’s nice to meet you, Melinda.”

She smiles and looks me over, but it’s not in a flirtatious manner, it’s more of an assessing one. “I’m happy to meet you. I think you’re going to enjoy your stay here at King Ranch.”

“I think you’re right. It’s certainly a beautiful place to visit.”

“Chase, follow me and I’ll show you to the dining room. I hope you like buffalo.”

“I’ve never had it so I can’t say, but I’m willing to try anything once.”

Footsteps echo on the shiny hardwood floor and my head turns to find Blaire coming out of what I assume is a bathroom. She catches sight of me, pausing like a deer caught in the high beams of headlights, before she walks toward us.

“Hi Mom. Dad. Chase.” Blaire’s tone is deceivingly demure as she includes me and her eyes hungrily look me over. Is she that attracted to me or has it been a while since she’s had sex? Either option works for me. Both mean she’ll be eager for the attention I want to give her.

“Blaire.” My voice sounds rough to my own ears. It could have something to do with how I practically swallowed my tongue when I saw her. She looks incredible in the vibrant blue dress and beige heels. “You look nice,” I politely mention. Nice? More like fucking scorching.

Her legs are hot enough to bring a man to his knees, but with those high heels on—Damn. They appear endless and I want to wrap them around my neck about ten times until I’m trapped between them forever.

Just the thought of kneeling in front of her and pushing her dress up those lean thighs, higher and higher while my tongue follows has my cock responding.

“Chase,” Harry cuts in, shaking me from my Blaire sex crazed fantasy. “You can sit there.” He points to a chair on the right side of the table, while Blaire moves over to the left side to sit near her mother. Did he notice my needy stare locked on his daughter? Is that why he placed a table’s width between us? I hope not. I’ll have to be on my best behavior whenever he’s around. I have no intention of blowing this job before I’ve reaped the benefits of being here—financial or sexual. I’m looking forward to both happening soon.

The four of us take our seats and a different servant comes in carrying a tray with glasses of water on them.

“Chase, this is Anna,” Harry introduces me to the older, grandmotherly woman.

“It’s nice to meet you, Anna.”

“Likewise, Chase.” She smiles placing water in front of each of us.

“Anna’s like a ballerina carrying these trays,” Harry mentions with a wink in her direction. “In all the years she’s been with us she’s never dropped anything on me.”

She laughs. “That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it, Harry. And now, I’m sure to drop something with the jinx you just cast on me.” We all laugh and she heads back the way she came.

No one says anything for a minute and it’s feeling awkward. This is their home and I’m a guest here. I flounder for a safe topic to bring up.

“Blaire, where did you go to college?” Her head snaps toward me with surprise and I see a hint of annoyance flicker in her eyes.

“I went to Stanford.”

“Wow, Ivy League. Nice.”

“I wanted her to go to Harvard, my alma mater, but what does my opinion matter?” Harry mentions with a smile.

She rolls her eyes. “Yep Dad, forgive me for not living my life for you. I’ll try to do better from now on.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I knew you had promise, kiddo,” he teases. I laugh at her expression. I can’t help it. She’s flushed noticeably pink and her incessant eye rolling at his words are amusing. Her eyes narrow as she glares at me. “What’s so funny, Chase?”

“You guys are. I like the banter. It’s nice to see a family like that.”

“Yours isn’t?” Melinda jumps in with a question.

I shake my head. “No, not at all. My parents had me when they were older and they’re more on the serious side.”

“We seem to have a problem with joking around too much in this family. I know it can be bothersome for others. Hopefully, you don’t feel that way while you’re here.”

My eyes sweep over to meet Blaire’s. “If tonight is any indication I’m sure this trip will be one I never forget.”

The conversation lulls while Harry and Melinda whisper to each other with their heads close together. My gaze roams around the opulent space taking in the enormous crystal chandelier hanging overhead and the large cherry buffet on the far wall with lit candles in a large, silver candelabra.

The scale of wealth they’re accustomed to is more than alien to me. It’s not just the ostentatious way their house is furnished. It’s their lifestyle too. Having servants to do things for you... I don’t think I could ever get used to that—or ever want to. I try to find pleasure in the small tasks whether it’s making myself dinner or ironing my own shirts. I learned the hard way that I hate starch. It takes me five minutes to iron my shirt each night and I save money by doing it myself. And no abrasive material rubs my neck raw. I bet Harry doesn’t iron his own shirts. I smile to myself at the thought and raise the glass of water to my lips. My eyes catch Blaire’s over the rim as she studies me. Her gaze travels down my neck as I swallow the cold beverage. Placing the glass on the table, I observe as her pink tongue sneaks out to lick her glossed lips like she’s savoring the residue of water left on mine. Heat washes over me and my fingers slip inside the collar of my shirt, tugging it away from my neck. Next, I loosen the knot of my tie.

“Chase, is everything okay?” Harry asks.

“Yes, just feeling a little warm.”

Anna returns, saving me from anymore of my awkward explanation. This time she’s balancing an enormous tray on her shoulder. Carefully setting it down on a side table, she begins placing salads in front of the four of us. We each thank her as she whisks away only to return with a basket of fresh rolls and butter.

“Thank you, Anna.” I smile at her.

“Aren’t you a handsome rascal. I bet you’ve broken a few hearts,” she says studying my face.

I watch with amusement as Blaire scowls. “I plead the fifth,” I reply and everyone laughs...except for Blaire.

Anna leaves and they all dig into their salads without another word. I’m starving so I take a cue from their lead. What’s that expression? When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Before I know it, Anna is back placing a large white plate heaping with meat, potatoes dripping with gravy and a vegetable medley. The aroma has my mouth watering and my eyes watch my dinner companions like a hawk waiting for some unsuspecting prey. As soon as Harry’s fork touches the food on his plate, it’s on. I carve into the tender meat, expectations running high as I anticipate what it will taste like.

Spearing a piece on my fork, I take the first bite and focus on chewing. It’s so tender and the flavor is lighter than steak. There’s a hint of sweetness to it. Digging into the potatoes, I scoop some up and add some meat to the mix before shoveling both in my mouth. The combination of the two together is so delicious I practically moan with pleasure. How have I lived without buffalo meat in my life? And don’t mashed potatoes make everything taste better?

“What do you think of the buffalo?” Harry asks with a nod in my direction.

“It’s amazing. I love it. I can’t believe how great it is.”

“Next time you’ll have to try it rare. It’s even better. I tell Sandy to knock the horns off, wipe its ass and throw it on a plate and I’m good to go.”

“Harry, must you be so crass,” Melinda scolds.

“Yeah, Dad that’s so gross. Not to mention rude. I’m sure Chase expects better dinner conversation.”

“Come on, a businessman like Chase. He’s heard much worse I’m sure.”

I nod my agreement as I continue to eat. Now that the main course is here I don’t want to talk, but I realize it might seem weird if I sit here scarfing my meal down like a vacuum.

“There isn’t much anyone can say to offend me,” I offer. “I think being a male automatically conditions you for anything offensive that might be said. The teenage years are great preparation.”

“I think you’re right,” Harry points at me with his fork.

I eat the rest of my dinner in record time and I’m wishing for seconds when Anna comes in with creme brulee. I hold up a hand. “No, thank you.”

“Not a creme brulee fan?” Melinda asks.

“Not a dessert fan. For me it’s more about the meat and potatoes and dinner was more than filling. In fact I might need a walk to exercise some of that meal off.”

“Blaire, why don’t you show Chase the garden. It’s a nice night for a walk.”

“Sure,” Blaire answers sweetly, but her eyes flash fire in her mother’s direction. Melinda smiles mischievously and I wonder if she has her sights set on something happening between Blaire and I. I’m all for it, but somehow I don’t think her mother would want me to hit it and quit it. Unfortunately, that’s all that can happen. I’m not looking for a relationship. Growing my business is my main focus and she’s the only girlfriend I can afford to have. Any other would only prove to be a distraction.

One of the best things about Blaire is she lives thousands of miles away from me. We have four weeks to possibly enjoy each other’s bodies. At the end of that time I’ll return to New York and she’ll be a pleasant affair from my past.

“Do you want to see the garden?” She looks hopeful I might say no.

“I’d love to.” I grin as I crush her chance of escaping for the night.

I hold my arm out for her to take as we step out onto the back patio. Her small hand wraps around my bicep as we pause, taking in the glory of the cloudless night sky. The stars are brighter here and I wish I had a telescope to stargaze with. I’ve never seen so many lighting up the darkness at one time. When you live in the city and you look up, the view is much different. Here everything is so wide open and sprawling. It makes me feel like a tiny speck of dirt—insignificant to the universe on the whole.

“Come on. What do you say I show you to a bench in the garden and we pretend we took a walk?”

“I guess it depends on what you plan to do to me on that bench.”

“What?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to sit next to you and rest my feet. These shoes are killing me.”

“That’s disappointing, I’m not going to lie.”

“Pfft. I’m sure it is, but I think you’ll live. At least until tomorrow,” she giggles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Okay, I see how it is. Let me warn you I can take whatever’s coming my way.”

“That’s good to know.” Blaire leads me to a wooden and wrought iron bench and we sink down side by side. She kicks her heels off with a groan and wiggles her toes.

“Turn sideways and give me your feet. I can make them feel better.”

“No, you’re not touching my feet. Gross.”

“Gross for you?”

“No, gross for you. I don’t think anyone should ever touch another person’s feet.”

“Well, I’m offering and I happen to have skills when it comes to massages.”

“Did you date a masseuse?” she scoffs.

“Well…” I tease. “Actually, you’re going to laugh when I tell you how I learned to give a great massage.”

“Well, I can always use a laugh and now I really want to know.”

“Do you know who Magnus Andersen is?”

“Hello? Do I know my own name?”

“Okay.” I nod. “He’s my best friend.”

“Shut the front door. He is not.”

“He really is.” I reach into my pocket and remove my phone. Scrolling through my pictures, I pull up one of the two of us, holding it up for her. “See?”

Blaire grabs my phone out of my hand like it’s the last chicken nugget in the box. Peering closer, her eyes get wide and then her brows lower questioningly. “Wait a minute. Did you photoshop this pic?”

“No.” I laugh.

“Hmm, I’m not sure I believe you. I need to see more proof.”

I hold out my hand and Blaire sets the phone in my palm. She cocks an eyebrow challengingly. Does she really think I’m making this up? Scrolling through my phone I find some videos of Magnus and I. There’s one in particular where I’m benching and he’s spotting me. Cam, Magnus’ personal assistant, was the cameraman. It was the first time I benched three hundred fifty pounds and I wanted to remember it. And now maybe it will impress Blaire.

“Here.” I motion her to move beside me and raise the phone for her to view the clip. She gasps when the two of us appear on the screen and then watches in enraptured silence as I push up two reps while Magnus barks out encouragement.

“Holy shitballs. You’re best friends with Magnus Andersen?”

I chuckle. “I am. So what do you say about that foot massage? Now that you know I’m using methods taught by Magnus, does that make a difference?”

She spins around on her rear, resting both her bare feet flat on my thigh. “Rub away.”