“Forthright again,” he muttered.
“Not really. Nosy again.”
He laughed shortly at the admission. “At least you’re honest.”
“I try to be.”
Jake had once thought his ex was an honest woman, too. Turned out she was like most people. Honest only until it served her not to be. But what the hell, he’d give her an answer.
“When we were kids, Beth and I used to come here every summer to see our grandparents.” His mind turned back, flipping through memories like a cardsharp about to deal a hand filled with images. “It was so different here. Bigger, of course. But more than that. Pop used to take me fishing and out with him when he was working the cattle. In Boston, I was a kid, told to watch out for cars, not to talk to strangers, and wasn’t allowed to ride the damn T without an escort.”
“Really? You couldn’t ride public transit alone?”
He shrugged at that memory. “My parents were cautious. Always said that rich kids might get kidnapped. So Beth and I were watched constantly.” Shaking his head, he continued. “Here, we were free. We ran wild all over the ranch with no one to hold us back. Went swimming in the lake, hiked all over the forest. It was a different world for both of us. But for me, it was the world I wanted.” Grudgingly, he added, “When I got out of the Marines, I came straight here. I needed this place after that and—”
He stopped talking suddenly, surprised as hell that he’d told her all of that. Hell, he hadn’t talked about his past in—well, ever. He didn’t like looking back. He didn’t believe in looking into the future, either. For Jake, the present was all that mattered. The here and now was all he could control, so that’s where he put his focus.
“I can understand that,” she said softly.
Jake straightened, set the poker in its stand and walked back to sit behind the desk. Gathering up the papers, he began to read, skimming his gaze through the lawyer-speak with ease. He was a Hunter, after all, and he’d grown up knowing the ins and outs of deal making. “I didn’t ask for your understanding,” he muttered.
“Too bad,” she told him. “You have it anyway.”
He shot her a frown that she completely ignored.
“Just because you’re a recluse doesn’t mean you have to be crabby, too.”
She made it sound like he was a damn hermit. He wasn’t. He went into town. Just not lately. “Who says I’m a recluse?”
“Your sister.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Beth thinks five minutes of silence is some sort of torture.”
Cassidy laughed and he found he liked the sound of it. “With her kids, I’m guessing she doesn’t have to worry about silence most of the time.”
He looked at her. “You sure seem to know a lot about my family.”
“That’s part of my job,” she said with a shrug. “As your mother’s assistant, I try to make her life easier—work and family. Luckily, I really enjoy your sister. And your mother is a brilliant woman. I’m learning a lot from her.”
She jumped to her feet, came around the desk and leaned over his shoulder to point at something on the front page of the papers. “I almost forgot. Talking about your mother reminded me. She said you should be sure to read this clause especially well. Once you sign, it’s irrevocable.”
Jake tried to focus on what she was pointing to. Instead, though, the scent of her wrapped itself around him. Something cool and clean, like the forest after a rain. She smelled like springtime, and drawing it into his lungs made his brain fuzz out even as his body tightened. Damn, this wasn’t going to work.
“Yeah. I see it. Thanks.” He turned his head to look at her and found her mouth only a breath away from his. She met his gaze and looked away briefly before meeting his eyes again. Then she licked her lips nervously and the tightening inside Jake went into overdrive.
Blinking frantically, Cassidy moved back slightly and kept her voice brisk as she said, “Once you sign this, you’re giving up any chance to come back and run Hunter Media. Basically, your signature is agreeing to accept Beth as the heir to the throne, so to speak.”
“It’s what I’ve wanted for years,” he told her, grateful that she’d stepped far enough back that he could draw a breath without drowning in her scent.
“But it’s permanent, so your mother wanted to make sure that you understood this can’t be undone. She doesn’t want Hunter Media’s board to be unsettled.”
“Permanent. Good.” Jake nodded, and let his gaze drop to the sheaf of papers again. Much safer than staring into foggy eyes that held shadows and light and...damn it. He needed to keep his mind on business, but he wouldn’t be able to do that right now. Not with her so close. “I’ll sign these after dinner. Why don’t we go see what my housekeeper left for us?”
Getting out of the study was a good idea. The kitchen was good. A huge room. Brightly lit. No cozy corners or any reason at all for Cassidy Moore to lean into him.
“Okay, I’m starved.”
So was he.
But whatever they might find to eat, Jake didn’t think it would ease the kind of hunger he was feeling.
Dinner was good, if tense.
Just like the rest of the house, the kitchen was a room pulled right off the pages of some glossy magazine. Acres of pale wood cabinets, a heavy round pedestal table at one end of the long room, plum-colored walls and miles of black granite so shiny it glinted in the overhead lights. The appliances were stainless steel and the effect of it all was cozy and intimate in spite of its size.
The two of them sat at the table silently eating a hearty stew and crusty homemade bread left for them by Jake’s housekeeper, Anna. Cass would have enjoyed the meal except for the fact that her host had pulled into himself and completely shut her out.
Amazing that only a few minutes ago they’d been chatting easily, and now, he’d become the recluse his sister called him. She had to wonder what had changed. What had suddenly made him close off to the point of ignoring that she was even in the room? Naturally, Cass couldn’t take the silence for long.
“You really don’t like having company, do you?” she asked.
His head came up and his eyes locked on hers. Cass felt the slam of that gaze punch into her with a kind of electric awareness that set off tiny ripples of anticipation over every square inch of her skin. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe it would have been better to leave things as they were, with the silence humming between them. But it was too late now.
“What makes you say that?”
Cass shook her head and waved her spoon at him. “Please. You’re sitting there like a statue—except for the glare you’re shooting at me right now. You haven’t said a word since we sat down to eat, and if body language is a real thing, at the moment, yours is saying don’t talk to me.”
He frowned at her.
“See? My point exactly.”
“Fine,” he muttered, reaching for the glass of red wine in front of him. “I don’t get a lot of company here.”
“Not surprising since you’re at the top of a mountain and the road to get here is a death-defying thrill ride,” she noted with a little shudder as she remembered her drive.
That frown flickered across his face again. “There’s nothing wrong