Page 39 of Her Boss, Her Rancher: Sunrise On The Ranch

With all its complications, every single risk and the very real chance she’d face personal fallout from her business partner, Emma was certain she’d found love.

WHENSHEWAKENEDAGAIN, the clock read 10:57 a.m. Obviously Cade hadn’t returned for her as promised. The first twinge of doubt made her shoulders tighten uncomfortably.

“It’s nothing,” she said, repeating the two inadequate words of solace over and over as she showered and redressed.

But as reality set in, she started to appreciate how much she’d set herself up for heartbreak. She was leaving in a few days. His place was here, and hers was in New York. Her business—a business she was about to lose if she wasn’t careful, if she didn’t maximize every contact that had been invited to the ranch’s inaugural event—had been the center of her life for so long. She might love Cade, but she’d still have to leave him, still have to go back to the life she’d created. Heartbreaking as it was, love wouldn’t pay the bills.

She headed upstairs to search out Reagan.

The other woman was in the office fussing over her billing program and cussing a blue streak as she fought with the ranch’s miserable internet connection.

“Hey. Mind if I come in?”

Reagan looked up. “If you would do that thing you did last week where you laid your hands on the computer, put your cell phone on the freaking desk, created your own hot spot and sent my inventory orders, I’d declare you a saint and set up a shrine to you in that corner,” she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

Emma laughed. “Glad to if you promise you’ll help me figure out what to wear tonight.” Butterflies fluttered behind her belly button with incredible fervor for such delicate creatures.

The taller woman swiveled her chair left and right, considering. Then she nodded. “I can definitely help. He’ll take you to dinner before you head to Bits ’n Spurs for some dancing. If you don’t dress down, you’re going to look out of place.”

“Iamout of place. That’s not enough to keep me from going tonight, though.” Emma realized what she had in Cade, realized that he was an amazing man. He was just a bit rough around the edges. But that was a huge part of his appeal—his body, his voice, his eyes, his laugh, the way his hands could touch her and make her believe she was the only woman in the world, the way he could sing a few notes and steal her heart...

She shook her head, fighting for clarity. “But whatever this thing with him is, it can’t go any further than this temporary, insane fling.” She fisted her hair and pulled, her wide eyes seeking Reagan’s compassionate ones. “I’ve fallen for him, and that makes him far too dangerous to my business and my life in Manhattan. It’s going to suck leaving him.” Emma crossed her arms, gripping her elbows. “Maybe we should put the brakes on tonight’s date. It will only complicate things further, and the last thing Cade or I want is complication.”

“No.” The vehemence in the one word was as effective as a verbal slap. “I swear, you two are so stubborn you wouldn’t recognize opportunity if it showed up on your doorstep with a calling card.” She pushed out of her chair and stormed out the door and down the hall. “C’mon.”

Emma followed Reagan into the bedroom she shared with Eli.

Regan was already in the small closet, grabbing clothes off hangers. She spun and thrust a pair of jeans into Emma’s arms. “Put these on. I want to see the jeans on you before I pick a top. And put on your boots.”

Moving as if she was on a version ofWhat Not to Wear—“East Coast Metro Meets Wild West Chic,” she accepted the pants and started for the bathroom.

“Right here, Emma. I’m not chancing you going out the window.”

Oh, yeah. She knew about last night.Damn if Emma was going to ask about it, though. She wasn’t about to get into a conversation about Cade’s past. It would be all too easy to sell her business and move out here on a hope and a prayer where that man was concerned. He was her ultimate weakness, and she didn’t do weak. But... “I don’t have any underwear.”

Reagan barked out a laugh and pulled out a brand-new package of thongs. “You learn to stock up on the practicalities with Covington men. Eli can be a little...destructive.”

With an amused chuckle, she accepted the new underwear. She pulled off her sundress and shimmied into the jeans. “Damn, they’re tight.”

“Breathing isn’t required or even expected when your man takes you out on the town. Not out here.” Reagan grinned. “Wow. I thought you were curvier than I am, but damn. What I’d give to have an ass like that.”

Emma blushed and half laughed, half wheezed out her response. “Pilates.”

Reagan shifted and slapped her own ass. “Saddle butt.”

They laughed as if they’d been friends for ages instead of a week, but time didn’t matter. Emma was simply grateful to have found a woman to commiserate with.

CADELEFTEARLYin order to allow Emma to get a little more sleep. She’d been exhausted. So was he, but that didn’t matter. No matter how late he’d been up pleasuring her body and seeking his own from hers, chores still had to be done. There was no such thing as a “nookie pass” out here.

He skipped down the porch stairs, muscles fluid, gait almost languid. Male pride made him want to pound his chest. He snorted at his asinine inclinations. Truly, though, the look on her face would stay with him all day, perhaps longer.

He’d lost his heart, and that meant it wouldn’t be long before he made a special trip to Albuquerque to locate the best jeweler the city could offer. He wanted to offer her something big enough to matter but small enough to keep from being ostentatious. Classic, she’d once called herself. That’s what she deserved. Something classic.

Cade checked himself.What was he doing?

He had to get away from thoughts of forever, let his heart and nerves settle, before he could make a logical decision about how and when things should go down. She’d shown him last night that he was everything she desired, and the results had blown his heart wide-open. But he couldn’t trust that his head was screwed on straight, either.

Softly singing the latest Luke Bryan song, he forced himself to focus on their incoming guests. That strangers were arriving in a week made him want to puke. He’d really hoped he’d get over that sensation, but no. Not even close. He’d be opening his home, his private life, hisway of life, to a bunch of people willing to pay for the “experience.”