Chapter 4

Alex woke up with a start. He wasn’t sure what had knocked him out of sleep, but he looked around the darkened room and tried to calm his uneven breathing.

He was home, so to speak. The home of his childhood. The only home he’d ever really had. Otherwise, it was bases—flung all over the world. His entire adult life had been homeless in a way. He’d almost always had shelter—except for the few missions when he hadn’t even had that—but never a home.

He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of home. Being one place forever. Of sinking your heart and soul into something the way his father had into this ranch. It was too much, too overwhelming of a thought.

He glanced at his watch. Five in the morning. It wouldn’t be the worst time to wake up. There would be chores to do and he wanted to call Connor as soon as his office opened. He wanted to look through the bunkhouse a little bit more himself and develop his own theories before the “expert” came in.

Alex rolled off the twin bed. It wasn’t the most uncomfortable place he’d ever slept, but the mattress might have actually been from his childhood. He didn’t know whether that was funny or not.

Last night he’d unpacked his duffel bag and placed everything in the dresser. Though this was temporary until the bunkhouse was ready, and he didn’t want to get too comfortable here, where memories clouded the air like dust, he wasn’t going to live out of a bag anymore.

So he’d meticulously unpacked the duffel into the ancient dresser, and this morning he pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He gave a fleeting thought to a shower, but they needed to discuss some ground rules with Becca first.

Although she had overtaken the master bedroom with the en suite bathroom, and he and the guys were going to share the hallway bathroom, there was still a hot water issue to be worked out before someone ended up with a frigid shower.

But before any of that, he needed coffee. A nice, strong pot. He pulled on the clothes and exited his bedroom. He was immediately greeted with a little shriek that caused him to instinctively crouch.

He looked at the source. Becca. Ignoring the fact that he’d immediately gone into military mode, Alex straightened to his full height.

Becca had plastered herself to the side of the hallway wall. He tried not to notice the fact that she was wearing shorts and a tank top, clearly her pajamas.

Despite her height, she had pretty, long legs. Pretty, long, bare arms. Pale skin, freckled at the shoulders.

No bra.

Alex looked up at the ceiling. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice sounded oddly strangled in his own ears.

“No, it’s my fault. I kind of didn’t expect you guys to be walking around yet. I usually go start coffee before I get dressed.” She made an odd sound, something like a throat clearing and a groan. “Not a good idea,” she muttered. “I’m going to go get dressed.”

Alex nodded, eyes still on the ceiling. He meant to keep his gaze focused there until Becca’s footsteps receded, but somehow his eyes drifted down to her backside as she scurried away.

He most definitely did not look at her ass, because that would have been weird. And he was not weird. Everything was fine.

On a heavy sigh, Alex trudged downstairs. He measured enough coffee for ten people because he was going to need to drink enough for four if his brain was going to be this muddled.

He stood there waiting for it to brew, willing his mind blank. He heard footsteps, but they were too heavy to be Becca’s. He glanced back at Gabe, who stepped into the kitchen with a yawn.

“Coffee,” he said on a grunt.

“Slept well I see,” Alex returned.

“You know, we’ve slept in a lot of shitty places. I think that’s why I can’t sleep in a nice one.” Gabe collapsed into a chair at the table.

“We’ll get used to it. You on breakfast duty?”

“Coffee first. Chore talk second.”

Alex nodded and waited impatiently for the rest of the coffee to brew. When another footfall sounded, it was clearly Becca’s. Soft, a little hesitant. He stared hard at the coffeepot instead of turning to face her. Not because he could clearly picture her legs or her ass in shorts or her…

He closed his eyes and counted to five. He was not attracted to his stepsister. That would be weird.

“Morning, Becca,” Gabe greeted.

“Good morning. Thanks for starting coffee, Alex.”

“Any day.”

“How about I make breakfast?” Becca asked.

“We should probably come up with some sort of chore schedule,” Alex offered. Of course, he’d already made one, but he didn’t think it’d do him any good to mention that.

When Alex glanced over his shoulder, he caught Gabe and Becca exchanging a look. Which didn’t irritate him. He was not irritated they could share a look already. He was glad. Glad everyone was getting along. It was great.

Great.

“I’ll take breakfast today and that’s how we’ll start. You guys did dinner last night. It makes sense,” Becca said, moving to the fridge. She was wearing heavy jeans and a thick thermal, and she was bent over the fridge and her ass was pretty much right there. Which was something he didn’t even notice.

He flicked a glance to Gabe, who was looking at the exact same place. Alex glared, but when Gabe looked at him, Gabe only grinned.

Alex jerked the coffeepot out of the coffeemaker. He opened the cabinet door, but where coffee mugs had been his entire childhood, there was now an assortment of colored vases, colorful bowls too big for single servings, and place mats.

Place mats.

“Coffee mugs are in the left one.”

“Thanks.” Alex took Becca’s instruction and found the mugs. He was certain the pressure banding in his chest was a need for caffeine. Not discomfort.

He didn’t care if things had changed. Of course things had changed. That was what things did. They changed. Things could look exactly the same on the outside and be completely different on the inside.

Which was a metaphor for jack shit. And it didn’t bother him in the least.

He filled three mugs, leaving the fourth empty for when Jack appeared. He set one on the counter next to where Becca was scrambling eggs and then took his and Gabe’s to the table.

“You, uh, said something about Dad rehiring Hick, right? Does he do the morning chores?” Alex asked.

“He handles most of the stuff with the cattle. I see to the horses. I’m sure Hick’ll be glad to have help though. He’s been hiring some seasonal staff, but it’s hard when we don’t have a place for them to stay.”

“Obviously…” Alex trailed off at the sound of a—actually, he didn’t know what that sound was. Gabe was looking around the kitchen trying to find the source of it too.

Becca cursed and wiped her hands on a towel before tossing it onto the counter. “Damn it, Ron Swanson.”

Alex exchanged confused glances with Gabe. Gabe shrugged. Becca hurried out of the kitchen and Alex followed her. She went straight toward Dad’s office, which caused Alex to pause.

Before she could get to the hallway that led to the office and the mudroom, an animal clopped forward.

Becca fisted her hands on her hips. “You know you’re not supposed to do this,” she scolded.

The animal was not a dog or a cat or any normal inside, domesticated pet. It was a goat. And it bleated at her as if in answer.

What the fuck?

Becca glanced over her shoulder at him. “Ron Swanson here figured out how to use the doggie door. When he’s feeling particularly mischievous, he tends to try and sneak in.”

“Why…” So many whys. “Why do you have a goat who sneaks in through a dog door?”

“Long story. Will you finish with the eggs while I get him back outside where he belongs?”

“Yeah. You grab the goat, and I’ll fix the eggs. This is totally normal.”

She laughed. Such a pretty sound. Oddly comforting. Strange to realize it was something he hadn’t had enough of in the past ten years—pretty women laughing.

“If you came here looking for normal, boy, you came to the wrong place,” she said, sounding mostly amused.

She lunged for the goat then, and Alex watched with morbid fascination. She got her arms around its neck, but it bleated and kicked and Becca swore.

“You’re feisty today, Ron. I really don’t like it when you’re feisty,” she muttered to the goat.

To. The. Goat.

The goat bucked again and Becca lost her grip as she dodged the kick. The goat took off toward the kitchen. Without thinking the action through, Alex made a move to block the hallway, but the goat was a tiny, little thing and darted right between his legs.

“The hell?”

“Goats are very smart,” Becca replied, hurrying past him. “We better get him before he eats everything.”

“Again, how do you have a goat that goes through the doggie door?”

“It’s a—”

“Long story, right.” He followed her to the kitchen, his long strides easily matching Becca’s jog.

Back in the kitchen, Gabe was standing in the corner by the stove looking wide-eyed and horrified. Alex could hardly blame him. The damn animal was now standing on top of the kitchen table.

“Why the fuck is there a goat on the kitchen table?” Gabe asked, all but pressing himself into the corner of the counter.

“You’re more afraid of a goat than a sniper?” Alex asked, grinning.

“Damn straight. I know what the hell to do with a sniper.”

“He’s mostly harmless, just desperate to be human,” Becca said, calmly studying the goat.

Alex didn’t know how to feel about this except baffled and entertained all at the same time. “With a name like Ron Swanson, I can’t say I blame him.”

“Do they bite?” Gabe demanded.

Becca laughed again, and Alex didn’t fail to notice Gabe had much of the same reaction he did—a startled look at Becca. Then a little bit of a smile at the sound.

It was a strange moment, all in all, to feel with a true, bone-deep certainty he’d done the right thing and come to the right place. He didn’t often let himself doubt it, but they needed this—laughter and home. Even if it meant a goat on the kitchen table.

“All right. Who’s going to help me grab him?” Becca asked.

Alex felt a certain lightness that had definitely been missing for a while. “Since Gabe’s a coward, I think it’ll be me.”

She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to smile as she stood next to one corner of the table. Alex situated himself across from her. Her gaze met his over the body of the miniature goat.

She grinned, a full-on grin he would never have expected from her.

“Welcome home, Alex,” she said, green eyes dancing with humor.

He could only laugh.

* * *

Becca was running late, which wasn’t that odd. She tended to get a little sidetracked by the animals and her own thoughts and inevitably lost track of time. Thank goodness for cell phones and alarms.

The potential therapist would be here in a few minutes and Becca was sweaty and covered in dirt and probably smelled like horseshit.

All in all, those were a few of her favorite things, but Becca didn’t think the therapist would appreciate it. Maybe she should get used to it though. If Ms. Finley took this job, she would be spending a significant amount of time here.

Before last night, Becca wouldn’t have cared if it didn’t work out. She would’ve been happy to have conducted an interview on her own even if it had gone poorly. An adult experience that intimidated her checked off the list.

But after the men’s skepticism that a therapist wouldn’t be of help, Becca was determined to make this work.

The morning of goat wrestling with Alex had helped her confidence a lot. He had a good sense of humor about the whole thing, and she felt more at ease around all three men. She just needed to give herself some time to get used to everything. It had been silly to think she wouldn’t be nervous at first.

Of course, there was still the moment from this morning ringing through her head. When Alex had stepped out of his room and she’d been in her pajamas and… She didn’t think she’d been mistaken that he looked at her breasts.

She stomped up the front porch and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling oddly self-conscious even now.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, which was the weird part. There’d been a jittery sort of excitement shivering through her when she’d realized that a guy might be interested in what she looked like.

She didn’t exactly hate the idea of any of them finding her attractive. She just hadn’t been around enough men to know if she was that kind of attractive.

You are one sick puppy.

She pulled her boots over the scraper and then swore under her breath as a car appeared on the rise.

No time to clean herself up then. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves. If she thought of Jack’s and Gabe’s obvious disapproval, she could focus on proving them wrong instead of being nervous. Maybe it was messed up that she needed someone’s disapproval to calm her and offer some confidence, but if that’s what she needed, she’d take it.

The shiny sedan that stopped next to her truck appeared to be a rental of some kind. She needed to remember to give Alex and the guys keys to Burt’s truck. If they wanted more than one vehicle between the three of them, they’d have to work that out themselves. But they could certainly have Burt’s.

Even if it might kill her to see someone else behind the wheel of the old Ford.

She ignored that unwelcome thought and smiled as a blond woman got out of the car. Becca pulled off her gloves and shoved them into her back pocket as she walked toward the woman. “Afternoon. You must be Ms. Finley.”

“Monica.” The woman smiled and held out a hand for Becca to shake. “And you must be Becca. You have a beautiful place here.”

“Thank you,” Becca returned, shaking the woman’s hand quickly. “We like it. I didn’t have a chance to clean up, but if you’d like to come inside, we can sit down and discuss the position.” Becca was so impressed with herself at how adult and in control she sounded.

She turned to the house and walked inside, ushering Monica with her. As she was gesturing her into the living room, Alex appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

Becca frowned at him. He was wearing nice clothes. Khaki pants and a button-down shirt. His hair was a little wet, like he’d just taken a shower.

“Where are you off to?” she asked before she could think better of it.

He cocked his head. “The meeting with the therapist is now, correct?”

“Yes. This is Monica Finley. Monica, this is one of my business partners, Alex Maguire.”

Alex held out a hand and shook Monica’s with an easy, charming smile. “It’s good to meet you. What can I get you to drink? A pop? Water? Coffee?”

“I’ll take some coffee, if you’re offering.”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you take a seat on the couch? Becca, would you help me with the drinks?”

Becca trailed after Alex trying to figure out what the hell he thought he was doing. This was her deal. They’d agreed on that.

She followed him into the kitchen, lowering her voice. “Why are you here?”

“The meeting with the therapist,” he said as though her question were a stupid one. “Why are you dressed like that?”

She didn’t want to admit to her lack of time management, especially when she was already nervous. “It’s called work. I still have to do it, even if I have to also do this. Which is my arm of the business. We agreed on that.”

“Just because it’s your arm and it’s your decision whether you hire her doesn’t mean I’m not going to be part of the meeting.”

“I can’t believe you’re trying to take this over,” she muttered while he made the coffee. She should have seen it coming. He wasn’t all that different from her mother.

“I’m not taking anything over. I’m just participating,” he replied calmly.

She wanted to pinch him. Instead, she would match his calm with a serenity of her own. She strode over to the cabinet and got out three mugs and then went to the cabinet where her mother kept all sorts of decorative serving ware. Even though they’d never served much of anyone, her mom had loved to collect the stuff.

Going through the array of trays and large bowls calmed her down though. It reminded her of all the things her mother had sacrificed in trying to keep Becca healthy. It was a good reminder when her head was about to explode. Sometimes people did obnoxious things from a really good place.

Alex was trying to do the right thing. He just wasn’t very good at knowing how to let someone else lead. Still, he was sacrificing things for other people and she had to appreciate that.

“Do you have questions prepared? Do you have—”

And then he had to say shit like that. “You will sit there, and you will be silent as I talk to her. You offer nothing unless I directly address you. Do you understand?” It was the most forceful she’d ever been with anyone, including her mother. Who was usually the only one she ever stood up to.

But this was important, and she had to draw on that well of determination and certainty and, yes, forcefulness. She had to be a woman she’d never been before. This wasn’t about Alex; it was about her.

“I’m not going to agree to those terms,” he said, leveling her with a stare that surely worked on Navy SEAL subordinates.

“Then you are not invited,” she returned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t need to be invited. This is our business.”

“The therapeutic horsemanship is mine. I won’t tell you how to raise the cattle. You don’t tell me how to do this. Deal?”

“No deal.” He poured the coffee calmly and she wanted to scream, but she didn’t. She took a deep breath. She counted inwardly to herself until she was calm—an oasis of ease and happiness and light.

An oasis that wanted to punch him in the junk.

She opened her mouth as Alex filled the tray with three mugs full of coffee, but before she could speak, Alex did. “But I will give you one concession.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“I’ll let you lead.”

Whoopdifuckingdoo.