The Crown Ranch 1: Missing the Crown Jewels

Peyton lifted her phone receiver. “Hi, Pam.”

“There’s a Spencer Fitzpatrick here to see you.”

A twinge of excitement shot through her. Why was Spencer here to see her? Work? Pleasure? “I’ll be right out.”

“Okay.”

Peyton pulled a mirror from her desk drawer to check her hair and makeup. She powdered her shiny nose and tucked some wild strands of hair behind her ear.

Spencer stood in the lobby in a well-tailored dark gray suit with a hot-pink shirt and pink-and-white striped tie. The smile he wore, displaying perfect white teeth, was as breathtaking as his piercing blue eyes.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked as he reached toward her with a vase full of long-stemmed red roses.

Peyton worked to keep her hand from shaking as she took the flowers from him. She didn’t need to look at the teller line to know that all eyes were on her. Make that him. Why wouldn’t they be? This man was gorgeous, and he was here to see her. That alone was probably shocking to everyone. It certainly was to her.

“Sure, let’s go to my office.”

He took a seat across from her on the opposite side of her desk. “Warner and Lauren invited me to dinner at the country club on Friday, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

Peyton’s breath hitched. This gorgeous man in front of her asked her to go on a date. She couldn’t, could she? Three years since her divorce was final and she hadn’t gone on one single date. Yeah, Lauren and Brittiany had made several efforts to set her up, but she evaded them each time. But dang, life was lonely.

A brief memory of her ride with Storm last Saturday surfaced. She was seeing him in a different light lately, and she hoped he’d reconsider her. The intensity of his gaze when she had reached out to touch him left her weak-kneed. With that amount of desire in his eyes, there was no way she’d read it wrong. Though he shot her down, there was hope, and since there was hope, she wasn’t going to blow it by going out with Spencer.

“The flowers are lovely, and I’m flattered you asked me out, but I’m going to have to decline.”

The corners of his mouth lifted and his dazzling blue eyes twinkled as he leaned over her desk and placed his hand on hers. “Lauren said you’d shoot me down. I bet her you wouldn’t. You don’t want me to lose a bet to her, do you?” His silky-smooth voice tempted her to reconsider, but she just couldn’t. In that instant, her fear of another failed relationship outweighed her loneliness. She knew in her heart that if this was Storm in front of her now, she’d already be in his truck waiting to go to dinner.

At her hesitation, Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a small envelope. “Here, this is from Lauren. She said to give it to you when you wouldn’t reconsider going out with me.”

Peyton shook her head. “She knows me too well.”

He handed her the envelope and leaned back in his chair. A teasing smile covered his face.

Peyton read the note from her best friend.

Peyton, come out with us Friday night. It’s not like you’re promising to marry him, it’s just a date. Let yourself have some fun for a change while enjoying the company of the opposite sex. Just look at this guy. He’s so freaking cute, he could be a model. He’s charming, too. Besides, if you don’t jump at this chance now, you know Brittiany will make him her ‘Toy of the Month’ and ruin him. On second thought, Brittiany might be a good place to park him until you’re ready. LOL.

Parking him with Brittiany wasn’t such a bad idea. Brittiany would tire of him in no time and simply move on. Peyton loved her friend—she was kind and sweet—but she had no desire for a real relationship. She wasn’t promiscuous or anything; she just liked to socialize and get to know different people and always managed to stay friends with men she’d dated when she was done with them. In fact, it was through Brittiany that Lauren began dating Warner, and now they’re married.

Hmm. Lauren might be on to something here. Date him or park him?

“So, what did Lauren say? Did she tell you how awesome I am?” Spencer asked, flashing his pearly whites.

“Pretty much.”

“So, then we’re on for Friday night?”

“Yes.”

The man’s smile widened. “I told Lauren it would be a slam dunk.”

Odd. How was that a slam dunk? It took a letter from her friend to convince her to accept this date. How could he not see that? ~Arrogance?~ Whatever—it didn’t matter right now. Peyton was more concerned about the parking issue. Parking someone with Brittiany wasn’t a bad idea, but Spencer wasn’t the man to be parked there for safekeeping. If you’re going to park someone, it would have to be someone you’d surely want to pick up later.

* * * *

Storm

Storm paced his room. Why on earth had he let Coach talk him into being Brittiany’s date? He wasn’t fit—ready—to be with normal people and do normal things. He liked his privacy and working on the ranch with little interaction with others. All he wanted out of life right now was to keep his head down and do his job while he took the time to sort out his life. Leaving the Army hadn’t been easy for him. He hadn’t expected to feel so empty, lost, and purposeless with his return to civilian life. It was like he didn’t even know how to behave in a social setting. He’d done just fine socially before the Army.

Damn Coach for playing the ‘she needs protection’ card. His friend knew the second he reminded him of that, of the threats to the family, he’d easily agree to go on this date with Brittiany so that he could keep an eye on Peyton.

It just figured that Coach and his dad were in Chicago this weekend meeting with some of their development partners, or Coach could be the one going on this date with Brittiany. Not that going on a date with Brittiany was a hardship—for a normal person that is—because she seemed like a nice woman, pretty too. But Storm just wasn’t feeling it. He wasn’t ready to be among the normal.

Storm stood in front of the mirror and tugged at the sleeve of his suit, Coach’s suit. He wasn’t quite sure what one wore to the country club for dinner, but he guessed it was nothing he had in his closet, so he’d raided Coach’s.

He swallowed down the anxiety in his throat, spun, and exited his room. The thump of his dress shoes against the hardwood floor echoed less than when he wore his cowboy boots. But even with the noise, he still preferred the boots.

At the foot of the steps, he waited for Peyton. He glanced at his watch. They were good on time yet. They didn’t have to meet the rest of the group at the club until six. Cocktails first, then dinner.

The light click of heels on the stairs drew his attention. His heart slammed in his chest, and his mouth went dry. In the past year, he’d seen her dressed nicely plenty of times to go to the club, but the radiant, beautiful sight he saw before him now stole his breath. He’d always thought she was pretty and liked her, but since she’d touched him the other day, she was all he could think about, day in and day out. Whether his eyes were open or closed, visions of her lovely smile, milky white skin, and dark, spellbinding eyes consumed him.

His heart sank at the thought of how hard he’d gripped her hand when all she did was touch him with her soft, gentle fingers. But he flipped out and grabbed hold of her like she was an enemy he needed to protect himself against. He was so embarrassed when he realized what he’d done he wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Even with that action from him, she reached up to touch him again. Every cell in his body begged him to let it happen, but his brain took over and reminded him he wasn’t fit for someone like her, and he pulled back.

Storm watched her as she gracefully descended the stairway. Her angelic skin glowed against the black, low-cut cocktail dress she wore. The dress hugged the gorgeous curves of her body. His heart flipped into overdrive.

She’d pulled her dark hair up and fastened it high on her head, leaving a few strands to hang down over her toned shoulders. A thick gold chain with a diamond slide hung around her dainty neck. The sparkling jewel had probably cost a fortune, but it was nothing compared to the rose-colored, heart-seizing smile she wore. A nervous shiver rocked him, and she wasn’t even his date. He was such an idiot, delivering this kind, beautiful woman to another man.

If she kept looking at him with those dark, seductive eyes he’d have no choice but to refuse to take her to the club, keep her home, make her his. Yeah, right.

Peyton stepped off the last step, reached out, and brushed her hand over his lapel. “You look great.”

Her hand lingered, warming his chest. His heart thudded. Fearing she’d feel it, he backed away but kept his gaze on her.

“You’re stunning. Absolutely stunning.”

Her dark eyes lined with thick, long lashes teared. Why? It was a just compliment.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He tore his gaze from hers. “We’d better get moving. Can’t be late.”

The ten miles he drove to get to the Chandler Country Club had to be the longest ten miles of his life. His useless mind searched its depths for any sort of conversation starters, but he came up empty. Peyton stared out the window and picked at her long, pink-painted nails. At some point, she gave up on her nails and rested her hands on her lap.

Out of the corner of his eye, he stole glimpses of the lovely woman. The short dress she wore had slid up past the halfway mark of her long, slim legs. His fingers itched to reach over and touch her heavenly-looking skin, feel the warmth of it against his fingertips. But the remembrance of the fact he was about to deliver her to another man stilled his hand. He’d blown it. She gave him a small window of opportunity the other day, and he’d blown it.

He pulled the truck under the canopy and handed his keys to the valet, thankful they’d arrived. Another minute in the cab of his truck, inhaling her tantalizing lavender scent would probably drive him insane. Yeah, he’d smelled lavender before, but he didn’t recall it ever being so appealing. It was her. Her scent mixed with it made it different—enticing, arousing.

Despite the crowd, Storm immediately spotted Warner, Lauren, Brittiany, and Spencer at the curve of the bar on the opposite end of the lounge. Warner introduced him to Spencer. He shook the man’s hand. Yep, he didn’t like him. The same bad feeling he got the first time he saw him from afar a week ago crept up his spine.

Spencer stepped around him, leaned toward Peyton, and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You look lovely.”

Her alluring smile lit up the room. “Thank you.”

Storm had to look away. He couldn’t watch this.

* * * *

Peyton

Peyton sat across from Spencer at the dinner table; Storm was to her left and Warner to her right. Surprisingly, being new to the group and all, Spencer was at ease with the dinner conversation.

Storm, on the other hand, not so much. The guy was quiet to begin with, but at least he knew everybody. Maybe it was because he was on a date with Brittiany.

Thinking about his date with Brittiany, Peyton wondered exactly why it was occurring. Why now? Less than a week ago he refused her with words, but the look in his eyes at the time told her there was a connection. But to suddenly ask Brittiany on a date stung. And for her friend to invite him to their group dinner stung even more. But, in Brittiany’s defense, she had no clue Peyton had feelings for Storm.

From across the table, Spencer rambled on about something in Louisville, but the cologne Storm wore intoxicated Peyton to the point of brainlessness, and she had no clue what Spencer was babbling about. Between Storm’s sexy, masculine scent and the warmth radiating from his body next to her, Peyton felt like she was floating on a fluffy cloud on a warm summer day without a care in the world.

Focus, Peyton. Eyes forward, she instructed herself. The man in front of her was pleasant; he deserved her attention.

“Shall we go back into the lounge for an after-dinner drink?” Spencer asked the group.

“I’m game,” Brittiany replied. “They have music tonight. We can dance, too.”

Storm’s coffee cup clinked against the saucer. The horrified look on his face let Peyton know that dancing was not his thing. Poor Storm. Brittiany was not the type to take no for an answer, and he’d be dancing.

Back in the lounge, they found a table bordering the dance floor and ordered drinks. The band finished playing a fast song and moved to a romantic set.

Peyton slid into Spencer’s arms, and they swayed to the music. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t feel good to be held in a man’s arms. Good, but scary. It had been a long time, and her last choice in a man hadn’t proved to be her best decision.

Over Spencer’s shoulder, Peyton caught a glimpse of Storm’s dark eyes as he danced with Brittiany. His gaze darted away from hers, and he spun around, moving Brittiany to face her direction. Brittiany smiled, wiggled her eyebrows, and made a slight movement with her hand as if fanning herself. Why wouldn’t she be all hot, bothered, and happy? She was dancing with a kind, handsome man.

Brittiany’s hand slid over Storm’s shoulder to the back of his neck; then her slim fingers dipped into his thick, wavy hair. A twinge of jealousy crept through Peyton. She wanted to be the one touching Storm, running her fingers through his hair. In the next instant, the unpleasant memory of his rejection surfaced and hurt.

Spencer pulled her closer, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He smelled nice, and his arms would do for now. She was tired of being lonely.

When the song ended, Spencer led Peyton by the hand to their table. The others stayed on the dance floor, waiting only a moment before the next song started.

Spencer took a sip of his drink, set it back down, and leaned toward her over the narrow table. “So, tell me about yourself?” he asked as he covered her hand with his.

There wasn’t much to tell. She lived a pretty boring life, hiding in her father’s house, trying to sort out her life. His questioning, piercing blue eyes stayed on her. She needed to say something.

“Well, as you know, I work at the credit union, and from the name of it, I’m sure it will be no surprise to you to learn that my grandfather and dad started it.” There, she said it. Now he can think the same thing everyone else does. The only reason she manages the place is because her dad started it. Nobody ever gave her credit for the fact that she had a Master’s degree in business and was perfectly capable and qualified for the job.

“I had made that assumption but didn’t know for sure. That’s great.”

His tone didn’t sound judging.

“What do you do?” she asked in return.

“I work for a family business as well. We invest in developments—mostly in high-end apartment buildings with commercial spaces. We’ve just started two projects, one in Lexington and one in Louisville.”

That explained his presence in Chandler County and at the country club. The quaint club located between the two big cities was an attraction to many well-to-do individuals in the area.

“What do you like to do for fun?” he asked.

“Like many others around here, I live on a horse farm, so I do a lot of riding. Do you like to ride?”

“I haven’t ridden a horse since I was a kid, and it was one of those little horses they have at a fair.”

“You should come out to the farm sometime and give it a whirl.”

Spencer leaned closer to her. “Okay. How about tomorrow?”

Peyton’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected him to be so quick to offer to spend more time with her—a second date. She drew in a calming breath and let it out. “Sure. How about ten a.m.?”

“That’ll work.”

The band cut for a break, causing Warner, Lauren, Brittiany, and Storm to return to the table. Storm slugged down his beer, then eyed his watch. Peyton assumed that was his way of saying he was ready to go.

“We should get going,” Peyton said as she slid off her chair.

Brittiany frowned at her. “It’s early.” She curled her hand partly around Storm’s bicep. His bulging bicep was too large for Brittiany’s fingers to stretch completely around, staking a claim.

It wasn’t so much that her friend wanted her to stay, but likely she wanted more time with the handsome man standing next to her. Who could blame her?

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired. Are you ready, Storm?”

He nodded and looked at Brittiany. Indecision radiated in his gaze. How was he going to end this evening with her? Peyton guessed that public displays of affection were not his thing, yet she knew her friend would expect some satisfying end to the evening.

Storm leaned close to Brittiany’s ear and whispered something that made her friend smile. Then Storm snatched up her hand and kissed it. Oddly, that little gesture seemed to satisfy her friend, who usually expected more grandiose affection from men. What had Storm said to her to put that smile on Brittiany’s face?

Storm stepped back from Brittiany and looked at Peyton, then bounced his gaze between her and Spencer. “I’ll get the truck.”

Spencer walked with her toward the valet counter, holding her hand. Once in the lobby, Spencer stopped and turned toward her. “I had a nice time tonight, and I’m looking forward to our ride tomorrow.”

Beyond Spencer, Storm stood talking to the valet guy. His spine stiffened, and his shoulders rose with the deep breath he took.

Her date leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly to hers. Honestly, she’d hoped for more for her first kiss in well over three years. Hoped for a spark or a fire like the one she saw in Storm’s eyes through the mirror behind the valet counter. Yes, she should be focused more on Spencer’s lingering lips, but the desire in the gaze of the man in the mirror stole her attention.

Spencer pulled away. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

The valet pulled under the canopy with Storm’s truck and held the door for her.

The ride home was quiet. Her stolen glimpses of Storm revealed a clenched jaw and tight facial muscles. Guilt consumed her for kissing Spencer. It’s Storm’s own darn fault. He rejected me. He had his chance. So now I’m going out with Spencer. Her self-reasoning to rid her of her guilt didn’t work.~ ~

They were almost home before Storm finally loosened his jaw. “So, you’re seeing him again?”

The emphasis he’d put on the word him oozed with disapproval. She didn’t appreciate his judging Spencer or her.

“Yes, we’re going riding tomorrow.”

“What time?”

Why in the heck did he care what time and how was that his business? “In the morning.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Annoyance laced his tone.

“You’re not my dad. I don’t need your permission to go riding or for you to approve with whom I’ll be riding.”

His shoulders rose, and he blew out a slow breath.

“I just need to know so I can have the horses ready on time.”

She turned to look at him, but he kept his eyes on the road. Was that it? He simply wanted to get the horses ready? She didn’t buy it; something else was up. Everyone in the house had been acting strangely the past week or so—her dad, brother, and even Storm. With her dad and brother being out of town, Storm was her best bet at finding out what was going on, but getting him to string two words together on a good day was like pulling teeth. Which angle should she work to get the information? There was the old saying, ‘You can catch more flies with honey.’ Maybe she could sweet-talk him into telling her what was going on. No, he was too savvy to fall for that, plus the fact he’d already rejected her meant it was possible he wasn’t interested enough in her for sweet-talk to work. She’d need to get under his skin. Push him to his limits so he’d snap and confess what they knew and were hiding from her, and she knew just how to do it.

“I can get my own horse ready, and Spencer’s too. I don’t need your help.”

“I know you can saddle a horse, but it’s my job to do it. Your dad hired me to take care of these sorts of things.”

“He did not hire you to saddle my horse or babysit me on rides. Two things I’ve been doing myself since I could walk.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me then. It doesn’t matter anyhow. I’ll be in the barn long before Mr. Perfect rolls out of bed and downs his Sunday morning Mimosa.”

“His Mimosa?”

Storm shook his head. “I don’t know, whatever he drinks. It doesn’t matter. That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

Storm’s gaze bore into her. The fire in his eyes was exhilarating. A little anger, a little jealousy maybe. Hmm. She liked it.

After a moment, his eyes softened. “Nothing. There’s no point. Never mind.”

Storm parked his truck, slid out, and hustled around the vehicle to get her door for her, but she’d hurried and done it herself. Not letting him do anything for her was the best way to get his attention. He was a doer, always trying to help. If she could prove she didn’t need his help, he’d probably want to help her more. Her not needing him would get under his skin for sure.

She entered the code into the alarm system on the front door and pushed her way through, not stopping until she reached her bedroom.

The thump of Storm’s shoes echoed in the hall. His bedroom door squeaked open, then shut.

Peyton had just about fallen asleep before Storm started his usual pacing. Past experience told her he’d pace his room for a while, then the hall, then perhaps downstairs. If whatever bothered him was bad enough, he’d head down to her brother’s workout room.

Silently, she prayed his demons would go away. It seemed to take her brother forever to overcome or deal with his post-traumatic stress disorder when he returned home from the Army. Coach eventually sought out the support he needed, but Storm seemed to want to deal with things on his own. She wished there was a way she could help him, and she supposed her sniping at him earlier didn’t help any.

Why, when it came to men, did she always say and do the wrong things? Her ex had made mention of that enough times, and now, with her snarky, shameful behavior toward Storm—giving him such a hard time—she’d managed to help push the nice man living under the same roof as her family to pacing the halls. The door to the workout room opened and shut.

Nice work, Peyton.