The morning sun was just peeking over the horizon to the east as Colt made his way across the open drive towards the pool house. He'd been having increasing trouble sleeping in the two weeks since his arrival in Connecticut. The stress of balancing six competitive women, one demanding producer, and a bossy agent was aggravating enough. But if he was honest with himself, it was the internal reflection he'd been forced to go through in the process of filming that weighed on his mind when he closed his eyes. He missed his hectic game schedule that kept him too busy to think overly hard about anything except baseball.

But faced with the daily questions of what he planned to do with the rest of his life, both professionally and personally, he'd fallen into a rare funk, which was not exactly conducive to building a compelling reality TV show, unless they wanted to change the focus from his love life to his mental health.

Colt let himself into the quiet building, glad to see he had the space to himself. Like his previous trips to the gym or sauna, his eyes fell on the stairs to the apartment above, thinking of the chef who was sleeping there. He'd only been able to talk with Harper a few times since that first night, and it had always been in the main house with cameras and people all around. She'd been aloof, unwilling to find herself alone with him. Yet, it had made him happy to catch her sneaking glances his way when she thought he wasn’t looking. She blushed beautifully when he winked at her.

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit to being disappointed she wasn't walking down the steps even now. She was an anomaly. A unique mix of funny, intelligent, and beautiful. He may not know why yet, but she’d captured his attention in a way few had in the past.

Making his way to the glass table next to the lap pool, he threw his phone, keys, and towel down before stripping off his workout clothes to reveal his speedo. Grabbing his goggles, he headed to the starting block at the far end of the pool.

The water was cool as he dove in, jolting him awake as he sluiced through the wetness, enjoying the stretch of his muscles. He wasn't a particularly strong swimmer, but he loved the workout water resistance provided his body.

And boy did he need it.

His thoughts returned to the woman upstairs, remembering the amazing dishes she'd been surprising him with each day. If he wasn't careful, he was going to pack on poundage before taping ended.

Twenty laps later, Colt dragged his fit body out of the pool, grabbing his towel and phone and beelining it to the heated whirlpool. He sunk his body into the warmth, letting the pounding jets beat away at his muscles, helping him relax. Knowing time was getting short before his assigned camera crew would seek him out, Colt grabbed his phone and dialed Van.

"Do you know what time it is?" his friend grumbled.

"As a matter of fact, I do. I've already got twenty laps in. How about you?"

"I was going to sleep in today. My first meeting isn't until ten."

"Screw that. I need your help. This whole thing is a big mistake. You have to get me out of here."

"Hey, hold on. I thought things were going great. Gavin is happy."

"And I'm miserable, and might I remind you, you work for me."

"Let's slow down. What's going on?"

"What's not? Five of the six women are cutthroat, coming at me like I'm a piece of steak, except they're all fucking vegans so I guess that's a bad analogy."

"Okay, that's kinda bad. But how about the sixth one? Have you connected with her? Maybe she's the one?"

"Sophia? God, no. She's so quiet and timid, she barely let's me hold her chair for her at dinner. Even if I wanted to be with her, I'd bet my life she's frigid."

"Well, you should at least be getting some good ass from the others."

"Knock it off, will you? I'm the first to admit I've played the field loose over the years, but never like this. Not pitting women living under the same roof against each other. And never with women I didn't choose myself."

"Is that what this is all about? Gavin chose them for you?"

"No, dammit. I just don't know what the hell I'm doing here and how you think this fiasco is going to do my career any good. Let's just assume I even wanted to sleep with these women. If I play the playboy, I come off looking like a fucking asshole. If I don't, Gavin and Ryan get all over me for acting too honorable. Can you believe that shit? They actually called me a choir boy!"

"There has to be some mistake. No one could ever confuse you with a choir boy. You sing like shit."

"Fuck you. I called you for some real advice, not for you to gang up on me too."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, but you have me a bit confused here. Since when is being faced with having sex with beautiful women a bad thing for you?"

That was just it. Right there. The million-dollar question.

"I can't explain it. It just feels… slimy. Maya snuck into my room and woke me up with my dick in the back of her throat yesterday."

"That doesn't sound like a real problem, buddy."

What was wrong with him? It had felt fucking fantastic at the time. That woman's mouth had skills. But it had been later that it had bothered him to remember his morning wakeup call. It had been when…

The sound of a door slamming drew his attention. Colt glanced up to see Harper walking down the steps. She was already in her chef's uniform, looking fresh out of the shower. Her long, sandy blonde hair was still wet, not yet in her normal ponytail.

"Hello? Did I lose you?" Van's voice cut in.

"Hey, sorry. I gotta go." Pushing to his feet and reaching for his towel, he hung up as Van was shouting an obscenity.

She was almost out the door before he yelled her name. "Harper! Wait up."

She paused, her hand already on the knob. He got the sense she was avoiding him, and her actions in the next ten seconds would confirm or deny his suspicion.

He was almost to the door, dripping water behind him, when she spoke to him quietly. "What do you want, Colt?"

That was a fucking fantastic question. He had her attention, now what?

"I've tried to talk to you a few times, but it never seems to work out."

"Yeah, well, we're both kinda busy, aren't we?"

He wished he could see her eyes. Moving slowly as not to startle her, he reached to turn her around. Like in the garage weeks before, he gently pressed her body against the door, leaning in close enough to smell the lavender shampoo she'd used that morning.

He finally answered her question. "I'm not that busy. I think you're avoiding me."

She didn't deny it.

"What's the point? Neither of us are in a position to get distracted right now. I have a job to do and… so do you."

The way she said it bothered him. "And what job is it you think I have?"

"Don't play coy with me. I hear the girls talking in the kitchen every morning while they're avoiding eating the food I slave over for them," she lamented.

Fuck, he hadn't even considered that the contestants were interacting with her on their own. No wonder she was avoiding him. God only knew what they'd said in front of her.

"Listen, I can explain."

"Why? You don't have a damn thing to explain to me, Colt. I'm just the cook. A nobody." Her voice quavered.

He grabbed her arms, pulling her against his wet body. She melted against him like a wilting flower. Where the hell was the spunky chef who regularly put him in his place?

"Talk to me. What's going on?" He leaned back, hoping to figure out what was going on in that sassy head of hers.

The rising sun was now shining through the windows, making the tears in her lovely blue eyes sparkle.

She turned her head, refusing to look at him. His right hand cupped her face, forcing her to look back at him again. "Tell me. Something's wrong."

"How would you know?"

"That's a fine question. I honestly don't know how I know, but I do." He knew it at a gut level.

"It's nothing."

"Harper." He lowered his voice, demanding answers with one word.

"It's just… I listen to them all talking about you when you're not there and… They are horrible women. All of them. Backstabbing you. Backstabbing each other. They lie, or at least I hope they do, because…" Her voice trailed off as she tried to look away.

"I'm so sorry you're getting caught up in this. I'll talk to Gavin and make the kitchen off limits for them. They can eat in the dining room and have Cecelia serve them."

His answer seemed to frustrate her instead of make her feel better. She was clearly exasperated when she answered. "That's fine, but that won't really solve the problem now, will it?"

"I guess it depends on which problem we're solving?"

They were both talking in circles now, unsure what to say, hell even what to think.

"I need to get up to the house. Everyone will be looking for breakfast soon."

"Give me a minute, and let me get dressed. I'll walk with you."

Colt released her, turning and rushing back to the table near the lap pool to throw on his pants and T-shirt. He'd only been gone a minute, but when he turned towards the door, Harper was gone.

"Goddammit."

* * *

If he suspected Harper had been avoiding him before the morning in the pool house, he knew for damn sure she was after. It had been four days. Four. Miserable. Days. Something had to change soon.

About an hour after he'd seen her in the pool house, he'd laid down the law with the contestants. They were to stay out of the kitchen. He didn't want them talking to, complaining about, or even looking at Harper.

And about three seconds later, things had blown up spectacularly in his face with the cameras catching every sordid detail. Every single woman, including quiet Sophia, had badgered him about why he was defending another woman. The accusations flew until the stick-thin model, Cleo, had demanded to know why he gave a damn about the 'fat servant girl.'

He wasn't proud of it, but he'd lost his shit.

Even now, days later, he cringed thinking about how the viewing audience would lap up the drama when that episode aired after the holidays.

He didn't remember exactly what he'd said, only that before he could think, he'd picked up the nearest dining room chair and crashed it into the wall with all of his strength, punching holes through the drywall as he uncharacteristically lost his temper.

He'd only calmed when a frightened Harper had run in from the kitchen at the sound of the smash, freezing when she realized the entire room was glaring at her—half wanting to slap her, and the other half stunned into silence, their mouths agape.

He groaned, pretty sure that since they'd captured the scene from at least three camera angles, they had a good shot at induction into The Guinness Book of World Records as the most awkward thirty seconds in modern civilization.

He hadn't really understood the level of his anger himself, so when Gavin had pressed him for what the fuck was going on, he had no answers. All he remembered was threatening to walk off the project if Gavin even thought about firing Harper like the bitter women were demanding.

So now, days later, the occupants of the house were still in an uneasy truce of sorts. The women got digs in about the food when they could. Harper kept to herself, refusing to interact with anyone but the Finnegans. Gavin continuously set up situations that created escalating conflict; the bread and butter of reality TV.

As for Colt, he spent as much time alone as he could get away with, soul searching in a way he hadn't since he was a kid who'd set his sights on playing in the MLB. He went through the motions of fulfilling his filming obligation. Playing board games. Taking walks through the winter garden with different women on his arm. Watching movies in the theater. Steaming in the sauna. He tried to keep as many activities as a group as he could get away with. Safety in numbers, and all that.

But each day that passed, he felt more pressure to become intimate with at least the three women he'd be down-selecting in a few days. The rules, as they'd been set out, called for him to cut the field from six to three at the halfway mark. When the show had begun, he'd have bet his next payday on choosing Maya, Cleo and Kylie. But as he felt more pressure to sleep with them, he found himself wanting to choose the other three contestants if only to make the sexual pressure disappear.

And that made absolutely no sense to him, so he knew it would make even less sense to Gavin, who would, in turn, kick his ass for screwing up the show. The irony was not lost on Colt that he'd signed up to romance six women, presumably with the plan of overloading on debauched sex, and he had, instead, been technically abstinent for almost three weeks, well unless you counted Maya's blowjob.

Bill Clinton got away without calling that real sex.

That night, after a particularly scrumptious dinner of lobster bisque, shrimp scampi, and flourless chocolate cake, three of his favorites, Colt couldn't take it any longer. Feigning a stomachache, he retired early, leaving the women grumbling and the crew happy to have the night off. He went to his room just long enough to trade his suit in for a pair of jeans and a sweater. He grabbed his coat, wallet, watch and phone, hoping his plan was going to work.

He knew there were hidden cameras, but it couldn't be helped. He counted on the fact that no one could possibly view the thousands of hours of feed for the entire estate as he slipped down the back stairs, through the dark dining room and into the kitchen. His sense of disappointment at finding Harper already gone for the night was enlightening. It had taken him long enough to admit it to himself, but the plucky chef was at the heart of his problem.

Their verbal sparring aside, he'd finally put together the real reason he couldn't bond with any of the contestants.

He wanted Harper.

He'd wanted many women, of course, over the years. And he'd worked each and every one of them out of his system, which was exactly what he needed to do with her. A few kisses… maybe a BJ or a quickie, and life could get back to normal. Well, as normal as living under a microscope for a reality TV show could get, anyway.

Undeterred, Colton stepped out the back door, taking long strides towards the darkened pool house. His mood lightened as he realized it would be better to seduce her there anyway. Less cameras. Fewer prying eyes.

He was about to let himself in the pool house when he noticed the lights were still burning bright in the stables. He wasn't surprised as he'd learned that the Finnegan's lived in the large apartment above the animals, much like Harper lived above the pool.

He turned the knob just as he heard the soft tinkle of Harper's laughter in the distance. Like being called by a homing device, he found himself changing directions, following the wafting sounds of camaraderie emanating from the barn.

He stopped in the shadows just outside the stable's open door leading to the well-lit paddock. He felt like an asshole for stalking her, but he was fascinated watching her working with the old caretaker, grooming a spirited Arabian. He was too far away to hear what they were talking about, but they chattered on like old friends.

Harper faced away from him, giving him the perfect view of her heart-shaped ass filling out the pair of jeans she was wearing perfectly. He found it interesting that she wore cowboy boots, the kind that looked well-worn versus the fancy fashion boots Cleo might wear on the runway. Add the ease with which she cared for the powerful animal, and he knew she'd spent time in a horse barn before.

That was a coincidence.

He'd grown up working on a Texas ranch only a mile outside of his hometown, mucking stalls for spending money. Old man Johnson had let him ride whenever he wanted, which had been often until a baseball came into his life. Then a bat had replaced saddles as his after-school companion. Hell, it had been over twenty years since he'd been on a horse.

Colt had been admiring the view for almost five minutes when the German Shepherd dog that had been sleeping near the water trough stuck his head up, alert and growling. Only when the canine took off running straight at him, barking as if he were fending off an intruder, did Colt finally step out of the shadows.

"Whoa there, boy. I'm just visiting."

He held out his hand as if to pet the barking dog, but not until Harper called out, "Wrigley, it's okay. Down, boy," did the protective dog back off. He still stood guard, ready to pounce if the new guy to the barn made a wrong move.

When he was relatively sure he wouldn't be attacked by Wrigley, Colton glanced up to find Harper glowering at him, all trace of her previous good humor having vanished.

"Hey, I saw the lights on and thought I'd check it out."

"Well, now you have, so you can go back inside now. I'm sure you're missed. It's almost bedtime." Her snappy snark had returned. He was relieved. It beat her tearful lack of confidence from a few days before.

"I'm sure everyone can get along just fine without me." He braved moving closer. Wrigley still looked ready for a fight. "You're a natural with horses."

"And how would you know? Like you know anything about horses?" She scoffed, her hands on her hips.

"As a matter of fact, if you'd done a bit more research on me other than just my love life, you'd have found the stories about me growing up in Texas. My first paying job was mucking stalls for Johnson's Ranch about a mile from my house."

He grinned, happy to surprise her into silence.

He'd forgotten Charlie Finnegan was even there until the caretaker walked closer, holding out a pitchfork and a pair of gloves. "Care to relive a bit of your childhood, young man?"

At least the old man was still smiling, even if Harper wasn't. Suspecting it would piss her off, he grabbed the gear and grinned. "I'd love to help. It can replace one of my workouts."

He had just started scooping up a smelly pile of dung when he could swear he heard her swearing under her breath. Miss Gardener wasn't going to make this easy.

"What? No camera crew with you tonight?" She prodded, returning to her work.

He deposited the manure into a wheelbarrow and then broke open the fresh bale of straw using the pitchfork to shake the bedding into place for the lucky horse whose enclosure they were in.

"Naw. I gave them the slip. I needed to walk off that five-star dinner you served tonight."

He glanced up, watching for her reaction, not expecting to find an evil smile as she added with glee, "I'm sure it was a big hit with all the ladies."

He'd suspected she'd been purposefully choosing dishes the contestants had nixed, but since it was creating such wonderful drama, Gavin had let it go.

Unaware of the veiled sparring his companions were engaged in, Mr. Finnegan gave him a gift. "You've helped me long enough. Let's get Dolly saddled up for your night ride. With the full moon, it's the perfect night for a ride around the lake."

Harper glanced his way nervously. What he'd give to get inside that adorable head of hers.

"I've changed my mind. I think I'll pass on riding tonight."

Colt saw his opportunity and jumped at it. "Actually, I think that's a great idea. Any chance I could tag along?"

He didn't ask Harper. He knew what her answer would be. He asked Charlie, who was only too happy to oblige.

"I'm relieved, to be honest. Ms. Gardener doesn't know the property well enough yet. Even with the full moon, I was worried about her riding alone. I'll go grab Prince and his saddle."

After they were alone, she pressed him. "Why are you doing this? Shouldn't you be in the house giving someone a massage or something?" The snark in her voice was morphing into nervous anxiety.

He took the high road. "I'd really like to ride, if it's not too much trouble. It's been almost twenty years and being out here… the smells… the sounds. It makes me almost homesick."

The funny thing was, in that moment, it was the truth. For a guy who traveled around two-hundred days a year for work, moving to a different hotel every few days, he rarely felt at home, even when he was at the loft in the city that technically was his home.

She didn't say yes. But she didn't say no, either. Colt helped Charlie saddle up the gelding, and within ten minutes, he swung himself up into a saddle for the first time in forever. The anticipation made him feel like a kid again as he waited for Harper to effortlessly pull herself up into the tall seat like the experienced horsewoman she was.

She looked as happy as he felt.

They started out slowly, finding the trail that ran along the white fence just before branching off into the bordering woods. It was significantly darker under the cover of trees that blocked the moonlight. They walked the horses in single file, the sounds of the forest surrounding them. Colt brought up the rear, enjoying the opportunity to study Harper on her steed as she led the way.

By the time they reached a clearing near the five-acre lake, all of the stress and anxiety from the previous weeks had magically receded, bringing a rare calmness. He normally lived his life at full speed, so the unexpected opportunity to ride in the moonlight with nature did his soul wonders.

Harper pulled her mare to a stop at the shore, sitting on her ride, looking out over the water. She looked cold in the November chill, her puffs of warm breath visible in the cool breeze. The light jacket she'd worn was not nearly hearty enough for the night wind off the lake. He stopped next to her, wanting to pull her into his arms to warm her. Not because he wanted to get in her pants. Well, to be fair, he did still want to get in her pants, but more so because the moment felt special.

"It was warmer here last night," she admitted.

"Thanks for letting me tag along. It's been a while since I've felt this at peace with the world."

She glanced at him, suspiciously. "Oh come on. With the money you make, you can afford to do anything you want to relax."

"True, but you'd be surprised how little I have left at the end of the year after I pay off everyone riding on me."

She looked pensive. "Is that why you're doing the show? You need the money?"

He barked a laugh. "Don't feel too sorry for me. I'm still in the top five percent earners in the MLB. To be honest, I got conned into doing the show in the middle of the playoffs when I wasn't paying attention to the fine print. Now I'm just trying to be a good sport about it all to avoid getting sued by the production company and Showtime for breach of contract."

Her eyes widened. "Can they do that?"

"You better believe it. I'm sure they'd like a crack at my bank account."

She didn't answer, looking back across the lake instead while his horse stretched down to make a snack of the remnants of last summer's long grass next to the clearing.

Colt dismounted, tying the reins to a low branch of the nearest tree and turning back toward Harper.

"What are you doing? We should go back now."

"Let's let them graze for a while. I'd like to find a few rocks to skip."

She looked uneasy with his request, glancing nervously in the direction they'd just come from as if she were tempted to take off again. He inched forward, trying not to startle the feral animal she suddenly resembled.

With a resigned sigh, Harper dismounted, and even though she needed no help whatsoever, he reached out to steady her, hands on her waist as her feet touched the ground.

They were close. He wanted to be closer.

She shivered in the cold, giving him the perfect opportunity to open his coat and step forward, sharing his body heat with her as he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her away from her horse and back against his chest. He'd half expected her to wiggle away, but she melted instead, throwing her head back until it rested on his shoulder as they looked out over the water.

Neither of them said a word, but her contented sigh spoke volumes in the quiet night. He froze, sure that any words he spoke or action he took would ruin what felt like a rare perfect moment. For a change, he didn't try to analyze it. He simply followed his instincts, nuzzling the woman in his arms, letting his lips find the sensitive juncture where her neck met her shoulder before nibbling his way slowly up to her left ear, sucking her earlobe into his mouth.

His first taste of heaven.

Colt's sleeping libido roared to life, demanding he make up for lost time. His brain, luckily, prevailed, forcing slow movements as his hands took on a life of their own. His fingers found her zipper, opening her coat to grant him access to her body as she subconsciously ground her ass against his expanding groin.

He knew he was doing something right when she fell harder against him, turning her body over to him as he explored her sexy curves. Her purr of contentment gave him the green light to latch onto her breasts through her shirt, squeezing her ample mounds, careful to pinch the protruding nips hard enough to send a jolt of excitement through both of them.

And then he made his first error. He spoke.

His, "Ah, Harper…" acted like a bucket of cold water thrown on the passionate couple. As if he were suddenly a hot poker, burning her, Harper jerked out of his embrace, bolting quickly away from her horse and Colton. By the time he caught up to her, she was fumbling to rezip her coat, her boots inches from getting wet in the placid lake.

"You shouldn't have done that," she accused, nervously breaking the silence.

"Why? It seemed like you were enjoying it."

She glanced his way as she spat angry words. "Screw you. Aren't you happy enough messing around with the contestants? I'd think you were getting so much booty that you wouldn't need to cheat on them with me."

There were so many problems with her assertion he didn't know where to start. He spun her body towards him so he could see her eyes in the moonlight.

"First, let me assure you, I've gotten zero booty, and even if I had, I'm not in a relationship with these women, so how the hell can I cheat on them?"

Her eyes widened. "I can't believe it. I knew you were a playboy, but I didn't peg you for a liar too. Well, no thanks. I'm not interested in being number seven on the list," she huffed, her spunky sass returning.

"What would you say if I told you that you were number one on the list?"

And he meant it. He wasn't interested in even playing Scrabble with the other six, let alone fucking them.

"What is this? Some kind of game?" As if she remembered something upsetting, she glanced around nervously. "Are you taping this? Are there cameramen out there trying to catch me acting like an idiot?"

"Oh for crying out loud, of course not! I wouldn't do that to you."

She didn't look convinced. "Why not? And maybe you wouldn't, but Gavin would in a heartbeat. I know the only reason he hasn't fired me is because he's hoping my being here is gonna make you do something stupid again like throw a chair through another wall." Her eyes softened with laughter as she started giggling. "I still have no clue why you did that by the way, but it was pretty fucking hilarious. You should have seen the look on everyone's face as I came running in. It was priceless."

"Yeah, real funny," he grumbled, running his fingers through his hair self-consciously.

Her tinkling laughter made it hard to stay embarrassed. "You should see their faces every night when Cecelia puts the food down on the table. You're sure to piss off at least one of them every single meal."

"That isn't hard, since between them there are only a handful of things they won't bitch about. I mean seriously. Who doesn't like apple pie?"

Colt shared the joke. "It's un-American."

Their eyes locked in good-humored agreement. For the first time, he could tell she was tempted to lean closer.

Something was wrong with him. Gone was his Casanova confidence, replaced with a trepidation that had him actually nervous. It wasn't unlike the kind of anxious excitement he felt stepping up to the plate in a tight game, knowing something magical was about to happen. Only instead of his bat making the magic, he wanted it to be his other body parts that took charge tonight.

He met her halfway as she leaned into him. Their lips brushed softly, the kiss could almost be considered chaste if it wasn’t for the feel of her taut nipples pressing against his chest. Nature took over, seducing the woman in his arms until they both had to come up for air.

Their foreheads pressed against each other as they caught their breath.

"Let's go back to your place," he almost begged.

She surprisingly didn't say no. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Colton."

"It's the best idea I've had since I got here." He was back to placing small kisses on her cheeks and down to her neck.

"Why me?"

He froze. On the surface, he didn't have an answer. He had to dig deeper to uncover a hint of the truth. "Because… you're different. Real."

It was a stupid answer, but she seemed satisfied.

The atmosphere was heavy with emotion, so her grinning taunt took him by complete surprise.

"I'll race you back to the barn. If you beat me, we'll talk about it again."

She was already in motion, dashing back to her waiting horse and throwing herself on her back like a pro-rodeo rider. She was already cantering before he was even seated. He kicked his horse's flanks hard, determined to catch up to her.

"Come on, boy. I'm counting on you."