The sun is blaring down on my back, the ground soaking up the heat, just to have it rise back up and stifle me. Usually, I love summer, but per my father’s request I’m here at King Ranch helping him “take it to the next level.” His words. Not mine.

I love my dad. We’re close, we always have been, but on days like today I wish I had the ability to stand my ground, and just say no. We have enough money to last us a lifetime, enough to get a myriad of professionals in to help us with his latest venture, but there are some things my dad insists on. A hands on approach with all his businesses is one of them. He doesn’t care what you bring to the table, the rule is every Welker has to be involved, whenever he asks.

While I’m not afraid of hard work and physical labor, when it’s this hot out, I miss the comfort the air conditioning a boardroom brings.

Growing up it was fine, my older brother, Justin, and I loved following our parents around the world, picking color schemes, foods on menus, and convincing them to have activities kids all over the world would want on their vacation. For Justin the novelty wore off and he branched off into his own businesses fresh out of college. He works hard, and he’s successful making the sting of not following in my father’s footsteps a little easier to bear. But for me, I fell in love with this world, my only condition was I wanted to go to college, have some experiences, a few of my own jobs; one that wasn’t associated with the Welker name and Welker money.

It’s easy to fall in the trap of being spoon fed when you have the world at your fingertips, but I pride myself on the woman and daughter I’ve become. The only thing I ever wanted my father’s money for was a college education, and he gave that to me in spades.

Good news was I got myself a Business degree, bad news, like an amateur I sucked at the social side of life. I’ve had two serious boyfriends that I’ve given some good years to. I swore after Jensen I had learned my lesson, but then came Michael.

I fell in love with Jensen, because he came from a world different to mine. He was reckless, yet intelligent. He was sexy, and rebellious in all the ways that made my young heart flutter with excitement.

Months had become years, and I was changing. My world became wider and I wanted more. More from him, more from us, more for me.

He swore until he was black and blue that he would change, and grow up, and I wanted to believe him, but his actions spoke louder than his words ever could. Jensen was a young boy at heart, playing dress up in a man’s world. I loved him. I truly did, and that’s probably why we stayed together way past our expiration date.

Then I met Michael. If Jensen was day, Michael was night. He had goals, dreams, and he came from money. It didn’t matter, but I thought maybe that was the missing link to a healthy and successful relationship, that it was the differences between Jensen and I that failed us both.

The spark between Michael and I was intellectual, like a breath of fresh air he wooed me with his smarts, challenging the business person I was and wanted to be. He seamlessly fit into every aspect of my world, and when he proposed I thought all my dreams had come true. We moved in together, and began planning our elaborate dream wedding. My carefully constructed house of cards was still and strong. Until it wasn’t.

It was at our latest hotel launch when his true colors started to show. I overheard a conversation between him and his father that revealed a carefully orchestrated plot to one day, and I quote ‘inherit Welker’s money.’

Love is blind, and even though I wholeheartedly believed it trumped everything else, love is definitely not enough.

After an emotional goodbye, I packed up our shared apartment and came back to the only place that feels like home.

King Ranch is the place the world knows, but behind the glitz and glam, is the heart and soul of our family. Passed on from generation to generation, my great grandparents built a gorgeous fifteen hundred square foot homestead. Secluded from the main town, and set on the striking backdrop of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. A much needed breath of fresh air, it’s where the earth meets the sky, where time stops, and beauty prevails. It’s the magic I need to mend my mind and heal my heart.

“Blaire,” my dad calls out. “Blaire, I’ve got Mr. Harrison here to meet you.”

Too busy pulling my mud covered boots off my feet, I purposefully ignore him. Unreeling the hose off the wall mount, I turn the tap on with one hand, and begin to rinse off my mud streaked legs.

Meeting anybody my dad does business with is on the list of my least favorite things to do. I would rather not associate with a frumpy, middle aged businessman who would jump on my dad’s dick if asked. Spineless people pleasers, who are in it for the notoriety, and the ability to put Harry Welker on their list of credentials.

Making sure I’m clean enough to go in the house, I pretend I can’t hear their feet coming to a halt behind.

“Blaire.” His voice is closer, laced with authority and irritation. The unfamiliar sound of someone clearing their throat has me smirking to myself. They’re both unimpressed.

“Blaire, darling,” my dad coaxes. “I’d like you to meet Mr. Harrison, the head of our new marketing campaign. He’ll be staying with us for the next few weeks.”

Turning around, I forget the hose is still in my hand and the spray spins with me directly onto dad and his guest.

“Shit,” I hear the stranger mutter, as the shower of water lands on the front of his dress shirt. The material immediately sticks to his chest, see through patches showing off the hard planes of his torso. My gaze rises, taking in the broad expanse of his shoulders, the length of his neck, and the ridiculously sexy smirk that sits on his handsome, smug face. Who is this guy?

Our eyes meet, and I finally let myself see all of him.

While my tongue hangs out of my mouth, he looks between me and the hose, that’s still jetting out water in his direction. He walks toward me, each step with trepidation, like he’s approaching a wild animal.

Placing his hand close to mine, he takes the hose out of my grip, and points the nozzle to the ground. Walking around me, he reaches for the tap, and turns the water off.

Once he’s out of my sight, it seems like the trance has lifted. I look at my dad, who is standing there with an amused look on his face.

“First day on the farm, and you’ve already got yourself dirty,” Dad chortles. “You’re going to fit right in. Chase, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Blaire. Pardon her rudeness earlier.”

Lowering my head, my face heats up at my father’s public disapproval.

I hear his feet shuffle around me, until I see leather shoes standing directly opposite me. When I realize he isn’t moving, I take a deep breath, and raise my head.

“Blaire.” His voice is just as attractive as the rest of him. Deep. Rough. And a complete contradiction to the man wearing his Sunday best to a farm. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

Stepping back, I stick my hand out for some distance. “Hi.”

“Cha--,” my dad’s voice is cut off by the ringing of his cell. “Ahh,” he stammers, looking down at the screen. “Blaire can you show him to the main house, please? Chase, she can answer any questions you have. I need to take this.”

As soon as my dad turns, I try to pull my hand away, but Chase tightens his grip, keeping me close. He raises his free hand, and my eyes follow every movement. My breath hitches as he swipes his thumb across my cheek.

“It seems after all that hosing down, you’re still dirty.”