Hot Holiday Rancher

Jesse took another sip of his coffee, still trying to understand why, despite all the favors Jesse had done for him, Vincent wouldn’t lift a finger to help.

Rage had filled him. He’d believed the worst of his friend. That a big-city job with a fancy salary at Perry Holdings had gone to Vincent’s head. That he’d forgotten who he was. Jesse had responded with anger.

And then, a few weeks after their strange encounter, Vincent Hamm was dead. And not just dead—murdered.

A brief angry voice mail from Jesse to Vincent had turned up in the authorities’ investigation. A handful of words. Crazy. But Jesse, ever a rule follower and ever meticulous, had a solid alibi. He’d been three hours away at a cattle auction. His location south of Houston was certifiable, easily tracked through his purchase records and through his hotel visit. Nearly all his time was accounted for. There was no feasible way he could have been the murderer. As a law-abiding man, he’d voluntarily submitted to a lie detector test, which he’d passed. He wanted Vincent’s actual killer to be found. Sooner rather than later.

He thumped the edge of his own mug, heat transferring ever so slightly from the ceramic to his fingertips.

Jesse’s attention returned to the present as he heard the creak of the guest suite door and soft footfalls on the hardwood floor. Then there she was. Esme Perry.

He stood slowly. Damn.

The mug was no longer the only thing throwing heat in the kitchen.

Esme walked deeper into the kitchen, looking too damn sexy in his Texas A&M sweats. Even wearing his athletic socks bunched down around her ankles, she somehow made it all work into an elegant ensemble right down to her diamond stud earrings.

“Well, Miss Esme, you are definitely unmistakable now,” he said, nudging her mug and the bottle of schnapps toward her.

“It’s nice to be dry again.” She gestured to her wet hair. “At least somewhat.” She poured some of the liquor into the mug, stirred thoughtfully. Almost absently.

She lifted the mug to her lips, and he found himself unable to look away, imagining how soft they would be.

“I’m glad to help.” He waited for her to sit before reclaiming his place on the barstool. “Did you reach home to let them know you’re okay?”

“I did. Just now. I called my sister Angela. We were talking about plans to meet for brunch.” Her delicate nose scrunched with worry. “We haven’t had much time to talk lately since she got back together with Ryder.”

Everyone in Royal had been blown away at the news when Angela and Ryder had gotten engaged. A Perry and a Currin? Unimaginable. Then they had broken things off, and now were apparently a couple again.

Jesse shook his head. He wanted something more stable in his life. “You and she are close?”

She hesitated for a telling moment. “Angela and Melinda are twins. Then I have a brother, Roarke. We all love one another.”

He’d heard the gossip that Roarke was rumored to be Ryder Currin’s biological son, rumors so strong they’d taken a DNA test. A test that proved Roarke truly was a Perry. Still, the whole ordeal must have put a strain on their family. “That’s not the same as being close.”

“The twins are close, and our brother has always gone his own way. He’s happy, though, working at Perry Holdings in Houston in a newly formed ethics department. He still does part-time work offering legal, too.”

“He sounds like quite the crusading attorney for the underdog. I imagine you’re proud of him.”

“I am. It wasn’t easy for him to find his own path. He and Dad butt heads because our father expected Roarke to go into the family business. But that’s enough of our family drama.” She shrugged, her hair rippling over her shoulder in a blond waterfall. “So you have siblings?”

Her eyes flickered to the photograph tucked on the marble countertop.

Esme was observant. He’d give her that.

“I have a sister. She’s all the family I have left, actually. I thought I was going to lose her not too long ago. Her appendix ruptured and she had to have emergency surgery.”

Hospital runs and the smell of antiseptic filled his memory. The bargaining and praying for his sister’s life he’d done were still a visceral memory in his stomach.

“I’m so sorry. Is she all right now?”

“She is.” He looked at the mug in Esme’s hand, thankful for his sister’s recovery.

“Thank goodness. Still, that had to have been a scary time for you.”

“It was.”

Rain continued to fall outside, filling the pause with controlled chaos.

She looked into her mug, swirling the hot chocolate around without meeting his gaze. “Actually, you weren’t wrong. My sisters have a special bond. My brother, well, his earlier move to Dallas wasn’t all that surprising. Now that he’s back, that seems to be changing some. Regardless, I’m still stuck somewhere in the middle. But that’s all right. Not everyone has the same relationship.”

“You don’t sound like it’s okay.”

She raised an eyebrow in surprise, then took another sip of the hot chocolate as she leaned on the granite countertop. She spread her fingers out wide as if soaking in the cool texture. “About those three someones… I’m dying to know more.”

“Dates.”

Her eyes went wide, and she inched back. “All three? At the same time?”

“Whoa. It’s not what you’re thinking.” He held up his hands defensively, chuckling. “I signed up for a dating service, a matchmaker. She’s lined up a trio of candidates. They were each supposed to come out here individually to meet with me, to see my ranching lifestyle and decide if it’s off-putting. It’s not for everyone.”

Her gaze flickering away at the mention of ranching not being for all, she wriggled her toes in his overlarge socks. “A matchmaker. Seriously?”

“Plenty of people sign up for online services. I opted for the matchmaker because of lack of time.” Absolutely the truth. And he found a certain sort of…practicality about having an expert match him with someone with similar interests. It saved time rather than meeting scores of women socially and trusting fate to somehow work out his future.

Her forehead furrowing in confusion, Esme leaned slightly forward. “Why do you want to have a girlfriend if you don’t even have time to look for one?”

Well, that was easy enough to answer. “I don’t want a girlfriend. I want a wife.”

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