“I’ll, ah . . . just go check on some things,” Renner said.
“You do that,” Bran snapped.
Renner gave him a wide berth.
“Why are you here, Bran?” Harper asked.
“Because I heard a rumor you were still in Muddy Gap.”
“It wasn’t a rumor, as you can plainly see.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s a second part to that rumor.”
“Which is?”
“That you’re livin’ with Renner Jackson. Is that true?”
She tossed her hair—a clear sign that she was nervous. But she didn’t respond.
“I’ll wait all goddamn day for your answer if I have to.”
“Fine. I am living here.”
“Why?”
“Renner offered me something you didn’t.”
In less than a heartbeat Bran stood over her, fuming, his whole being raw from fear that he was too late. “What is it that he can offer you? Money?”
Her jaw dropped.
“Let me tell you something, sweetheart. I’ve got more money than he does. A shit ton more. I can buy and sell him twice over. I just don’t advertise it.”
Harper continued to gape at him as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had—he couldn’t seem to stop his damn mouth from running unchecked.
“Jesus, Harper. If you’re lookin’ for a man to take care of you, why ain’t you lookin’ at me?”
Goaded beyond her control, Harper placed her palms on Bran’s chest and shoved him as hard as she could. “You pompous ... ass! I’m not looking for a man to take care of me. I’m looking for someone to believe in me. I’m looking for someone to give me a chance and see me beyond Harper Masterson, beauty queen. Or Harper the college dropout. Or Harper the nail technician. Or Harper the hired hand.”
He shook his finger at her. “I never put those labels on you and you damn well know that. You did it all by yourself. So tell me, what can Jackson give you that I can’t?”
“A permanent job.”
Guilt punched his already aching gut. “What?”
“I’m living here with Janie Fitzhugh. Renner hired me to work at the resort. But he and Janie are giving me more than just a job. They’re giving me a chance to have my dream.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
Oh shit. Harper got that look in her eye that indicated he’d said exactly the wrong thing.
Before he could backtrack, she said, “You don’t have a clue what this opportunity means to me.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Harper,” he warned.
“Then tell me in your own words.”
“Fine. You’re excited about a new job.”
“This is not just any job!”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“No.” She backed away from him. “I think you don’t know me at all, do you, Bran?”
“I do too know you,” he replied, trying damn hard not to explode.
“Name one thing that’s important to me.”
“Having a job is important to you.”
“Name one thing you like about me that doesn’t have to do with my job working for you or sex.”
Bran’s mouth opened. Closed.
Her eyes clouded with hurt.
Dammit. This was killing him.
Go on the offensive.
“Same question back atcha. Name one thing you like about me that doesn’t have to do with your job working for me or sex.”
“I can name a hundred. I like the way you laugh. I like the way you smile at me when you don’t know I can see you. I like how in tune you are with everything that goes on around your ranch. I like the care and concern you show your animals. I liked the care and concern you showed for me, when I was just your employee and then when we became so much more. I think it’s cool that you like to tie flies and you love to fish. I’m glad you’re not addicted to sports twenty-four/seven.”
Damn. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Here’s a news flash: I absolutely do not care, one way or another, if you have money. But I do care that you didn’t tell me. And it really makes me mad that you think throwing that fact out there now would somehow make a difference in how I feel about you.”
Instead of demanding to know exactly how she felt about him, he said, “Why do you think I didn’t tell you?”
She tapped her chin. “Hmm. Let me think. Because I might have designs on your money?”
“Wrong again, sweetheart. I don’t believe you’re some kind of damn gold digger. I haven’t told anyone about my inheritance from my grandparents. None of my friends have a freakin’ clue.”
“That is even sadder yet, Bran.”
“And why is that?”
“They’ve been your best buddies for how long? Your whole life, right? And if you can’t trust them ... how did I ever hope that you could trust me?”
“It’s not the same thing, Harper.”
She shook her head in disagreement. “Yes, it is. Although I could understand why you didn’t tell Les. You have serious trust issues, cowboy.”
“So do you,” he fired back.
Indignant, she retorted, “I do not. I gave you every bit of my trust. And I’m not just talking about in the bedroom.”
“But you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about Bailey joining the army and breakin’ your heart?”