She laughs and holds her hand up to gaze at her ring. Looking so fucking happy.
And seeing her happy?
Seeing her happy is everything.
And I’m happy too, because I get to be stuck in her orbit for the rest of my life.
Want to see Cade Eaton, the grumpy single dad, meet his match? Keep reading for a sneak peek!
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Have you met the Eaton brothers’ younger sister, Violet? Read all about her story in the Gold Rush Ranch series.
Start with Off to The Races.
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Heartless Sneak Peek
Cade
Lucy Reid’s eyes flutter my way. The look in them is just a little too appreciative for my taste.
“Well, I love to do arts and crafts. I do a lot of scrapbooking in my spare time. Knitting. I bet Luke would love to do some knitting. Don’t you think, Cade?”
I almost laugh. The way she purrs my name. Also, I’d love to see someone get Luke to sit still long enough to handle two pointy sticks and create something.
She smiles over at Summer now, my little brother’s fiancé, before adding, “You know how it is. We all need some sort of feminine hobbies, don’t we?”
I hear my dad, Harvey, chuckle from where he’s seated in the room’s corner. Hiring a nanny has turned into a full-on family affair.
And also, a full-on nightmare.
Summer’s lips roll together, and she offers a small, fake smile. “Yes, of course.” I almost snort. Summer’s idea of feminine entertainment is squatting heavy plates at the gym and torturing grown men in the name of “personal training.” She’s lying through her fucking teeth, but maybe she’s still new enough in town that Lucy doesn’t know.
Or maybe Lucy is being a snarky bitch to my future sister.
“Alright.” I stand. “Well, thanks. We’ll get back to you.”
Lucy looks a little taken aback by how swiftly I’ve changed the conversation, but I’ve heard and seen all I need to.
And bedside manner isn’t my strong suit. I’m more of a rip-the-band-aid off type.
I spin on my heel, drop my chin, and walk out before it’s too obvious that I saw her outstretched hand and just didn’t care to shake it. Practically stomping to the kitchen, I prop my hands against the butcher block counter that buts up against the window and let my eyes trace out over the open range and across the peaks of the Rockies that jut up toward the heavens.
This view, wild and craggy, is bursting with color in the early summer. Grass a little too green, sky a little too blue. Sun bright enough to wash everything out a bit and make you squint.
After tossing some coffee beans into the grinder to make a fresh pot, I press down on the top to fill the house with the sound and try not to think about what I’m going to do with my kid for the next couple months. It just leads me to beating myself up. Feeling like I should od more for him. Be more present for him.
Basically, it’s not productive.
The sound has the added benefit of drowning out the pleasantries that my dad, Harvey, and Summer are exchanging at the front door.
Not my house, not my responsibility. We’re at the main farmhouse, where my dad lives, to do the nanny interviews because I don’t like letting random people into my house. Especially not ones who look at me like this is their ticket into completing some weird little pre-made happy family fantasy with me.
Harvey, on the other hand, would run a bed-and-breakfast out of this place and enjoy the hell out of taking care of people. Ever since he got injured and handed the ranch over to me, it’s like he just wanders around socializing 24/7.
I watch the small grains tumble into the white paper filter in the top of the coffeemaker and then swivel to fill the pot with water at the sink.
“Kinda late in the day for a pot of coffee, don’t you think?” Harvey strides in, with Summer not far behind.
They have no idea. I’m full up on coffee today. Almost jittery. The grin I give barely touches my eyes. “Just pre-making it for tomorrow morning for ya.”
Summer snorts and my dad rolls his eyes. They both know I’m full of shit.
“You weren’t very nice to her, Cade,” is his next comment. And now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “In fact, you’re being a challenge with this entire process.”
Crossing my arms, I lean back against the countertop. “I’m not very nice. And I’ll happily be a challenge about protecting my kid.” I swear my dad’s lips twitch, and he sits down at the table and crosses a booted foot over his knee. Summer just stands, hip propped against the door frame, staring at me. She does this sometimes, and it’s unnerving.