The Crown Ranch 1: Missing the Crown Jewels
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Valerie J. Clarizio
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Chapter One
Book 1: Missing the Crown Jewels
“Okay, Peyton, since you won’t put on your big girl panties and saddle up since your divorce, Brittiany and I took the liberty and checked out this new guy we met at the country club. He’s perfect for you.”
The air drained from Peyton’s lungs. Why did her friends think it necessary to keep trying to set her up? Peyton shook her head. “Please tell me you’re lying and he’s not coming here tonight.”
Lauren’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “He is, and you are going to thank us when you see him. He’s so cute. If not for Warner, I would have kept him for myself.”
Peyton sprang to her feet, but Lauren snatched up her arm before she could turn and run out of the bar. When, or if, she were ever again interested in a guy, a man like the one sitting at the end of the bar, Storm Starr, would be at the top of her list even though he was her brother’s best friend. But there was no use thinking about him. A handsome, tough, ex-military guy like that would surely want a smart, self-assured woman, not one like her, not one who was so easily made a fool by her ex-husband. She’d caught Storm staring at her on occasion with interest in his eyes, and he seemed to show up everywhere she goes lately. What’s that all about?
Lauren tugged on Peyton’s arm, snapping her out of her reverie. “Come on. Just meet the guy. Give him a chance. What could it hurt?”
“No. I don’t want to. I’m not ready.”
“Peyton, it’s been three years since your divorce. Don’t let one jerk prevent you from finding Mr. Right and sharing your life with someone who will make you happy. Someone who will love you for the wonderful person you are.”
Peyton swung her gaze from Lauren to her friend Brittiany, hoping to find support, but Brittiany nodded. “Lauren’s right. It’s time to hop back up on the saddle and take a chance.”
Her gaze shifted to the door. The lingering effects of the last disaster of a relationship still haunted her daily, and she knew she should make a run for it, but her feet stayed in place. She was lonely and scared. Real lonely.
“Please, just meet him. We’re not asking you to marry him.”
Lauren’s pleading eyes convinced Peyton to sit.
Lauren glanced at her phone. “Warner just texted. They’ll be here in five minutes.”
Peyton expelled a breath. Her body quivered. She still had time to dash out.
“Wait until you see him. He’s handsome and friendly, too,” Lauren assured her.
Curiosity was getting the better of Peyton, and the idea of not being lonely anymore was appealing even when weighed against the fact she’d been taken for a fool in her last and only real relationship. But in the end, that wasn’t a real relationship. It was all a ploy by her ex-husband to get her dad’s money. Tyler had needed cash to dig himself out of the financial predicament in which he’d buried himself. Thank goodness her dad caught on before it was too late. He’d been within an inch of writing a check—a big check.
* * *
Storm sat at the end of the bar near the kitchen door. His usual spot. It had the best vantage point. Both the front and back doors were in perfect view, allowing him the advantage of seeing trouble the second it walked through the entrance.
At this moment, the spot also served as the prime location to keep an eye on things—on her, Peyton Crown, his best friend’s little sister. The woman who’d infiltrated his dreams more times this past year than he could count.
On the rare occasion she’d actually talked to him, she hardly ever looked him in the eye, but when she did, he’d lose himself in those dark irises—so dark they were almost black. In the beginning, it bothered him to no end that she never made eye contact with him when they spoke. He couldn’t help but wonder why. But as time went on, he’d come to realize she didn’t make eye contact with any man except her dad and brothers. Storm’s hands fisted on top of the bar. He’d like to wring the neck of that jackass of an ex-husband of hers for shooting this bright, beautiful woman’s self-esteem all to hell. He never met the guy but heard enough from her brother to know the guy was a real piece of work.
Peyton didn’t see him when she walked in with her friends, but he saw her immediately even through the crowd of regular, Friday night patrons. In the small town of Bourbonville, there wasn’t much for entertainment. The three bars on Main Street were about it, so they were always busy, especially on the weekends.
The front door swung open, drawing Storm’s attention from Peyton. Warner stepped through with another man—a stranger. Maybe it was Brittiany’s boyfriend. She went through them pretty quickly.
Lauren waved the men over to their table. Being a lawyer, Warner was a pretty good dresser, and the stranger’s suit looked like one Warner might wear—expensive. Why would a guy be wearing a suit like that in the Bourbonville Pub on a Friday night? It’s not like they were at a country club or anything.
Warner stepped up to Lauren and gave her a peck on the cheek, then he turned and gestured between Peyton and the stranger as if introducing them to one another. Peyton flashed a soft smile and shook the man’s hand. The guy returned her smile. Between his perfectly aligned white teeth, beach blond hair, and expensive suit, the man looked like he came off the cover of a magazine. Most of the females in the immediate area had their gazes glued to him.
Brittiany slid down a stool, and the stranger took her vacated spot next to Peyton. So, Brittiany and Lauren set her up on this date.
The way this guy carried himself, walked in with confidence, and soaked up the gazes of the opposite sex irritated Storm. He looked shifty, kind of slithered when he moved.
Storm took a long pull from his bottle of beer and set it back on the bar just as someone smacked him on his shoulder blade.
“Well, I know I don’t have to worry about her whenever you’re around, that’s for sure,” Peyton’s brother Coach said as he leaned over the bar to get the bartender’s attention.
Though Coach’s statement was true, he hated getting razzed about it. Even though Storm never admitted it verbally, his friend seemed to know he had it bad for Peyton. Coach was intuitive that way—always was. His intuitiveness came in handy when they were in the Army and on missions. But right now, his awareness was a pain in Storm’s side.
Coach took a slug of his beer but kept his gaze on his sister. “Who’s that slimeball talking to my sister?”
“I don’t know. He just walked in with Warner.”
“Well, I don’t like him.”
“Me either.”
