Page 78 of Roping Her Alien Ranchers

The horn blared again outside, each blast like a nail being hammered directly into my temple. Derek. Three honks, pause, repeat. His signature move. I’d once found it endearing, back when I thought his impatience was passion rather than entitlement. Now it felt like the audio equivalent of a dog marking its territory. I watched Cyro’s tentacles writhe with protective rage, the iridescent sheen beneath his human disguise intensifying as his emotions ran high. If tentacles could speak, his would be screaming obscenities.

“I know you want to help, but just stay in here,” I told Cyro, my voice steadier than my hands. “I’ll go see what that asshole wants.”

“This male has caused you distress.” Cyro’s voice carried that slight echo quality it always did when he was upset, his human facade slipping. A ripple of pastel colors flashed across his neck—the otherworldly equivalent of flushing with anger. “His presence is unwelcome. Let me remove him from your territory.”

I held up my hand, palm out. “No. I’ve been handling Derek Morgan long before you crash-landed in my horse trough. I need to do this myself.”

Cyro’s metallic-sheened eyes narrowed, but he nodded once, a jerky motion that telegraphed his reluctance. His tentacles retracted beneath his skin. The double lenses in his eyes flicked over once, betraying his agitation.

The horn sounded again, more insistent. Of course. God forbid Derek wait like a normal person.

I straightened my shoulders and marched toward the door, pausing only to check my reflection in the small entryway mirror. My red hair was a tangled mess, my eyes still puffy from crying. Perfect. Let him see what he’d done.

The screen door slammed behind me with a satisfying bang as I stepped onto the porch. The late afternoon sun hit me straight in the eyes, momentarily blinding me. When my vision cleared, I saw Derek’s oversized truck idling in my driveway, its glossy black finish gleaming like an oil spill against the dusty backdrop of my ranch. The truck was new. Of course it was. Derek measured his success in horsepower and chrome detailing.

As I appeared, the driver’s door swung open and out stepped my ex-fiancé, his movements calculated for maximum impact. Derek always entered a room—or in this case, a yard—like he was being filmed for a cologne commercial. Pressed jeans that probably cost more than my monthly feed bill. Crisp button-down with just enough buttons undone to be inappropriate for anything but a nightclub. Leather boots that had never seen an actual day’s work.

His smile widened when he spotted me, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. A predator’s smile. It never reached his eyes.

“There she is,” he called out, spreading his arms wide like we were in some twisted reunion show. “The stubborn little filly herself.”

I didn’t move from the porch. Height advantage. Never give it up when dealing with snakes. “What do you want, Derek?”

He approached with that swagger that used to make my heart skip. Now it made my stomach clench. “Can’t a man check in on his favorite neighbor?” His eyes roamed over me, assessing. “Though you’re looking a little rough around the edges these days, darlin’. Running this place into the ground taking its toll?”

“Cut the crap.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are you here?”

Derek’s smile tightened at the corners. He never did like when I didn’t play along with his games. “Word travels fast in a small town. Heard you got a call from Farmers & Merchants today.” He tsked, shaking his head like I was a child who’d made a mess. “Foreclosure’s such an ugly business. All those papers, all those lawyers. Not to mention the humiliation.”

My blood turned to ice water in my veins. How the hell did he know about the bank call already? It had been less than an hour.

“Your concern is touching,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue. “But I’ll manage.”

“Will you?” He was at the bottom of the porch steps now, looking up at me with what someone who didn’t know better might mistake for genuine concern. “Because from where I’m standing, you need about sixty thousand dollars by next Friday, or you’ll be loading those two worthless horses into a trailer and looking for a studio apartment in town.”

My hands clenched into fists so tight I felt my nails bite into my palms. Worthless horses. As if Mystery and Sassafras were just inventory, not living, breathing creatures I’d poured my heart and savings into. As if the foal they might now produce wasn’t my last, best hope.

“I’ve got options,” I lied.

“Do you?” Derek climbed the first step, then the second. Too close now. Close enough that I could smell his cologne—sandalwood and money. “Because I’ve got sixty-five thousand dollars in options just waiting for you.”

My mouth went dry. Sixty-five thousand. More than enough to save the ranch. Hell, I’d be set for a year. I could pay for the artificial insemination. I had to think practically. The aliens weren’t staying forever. Just because Mystery and Sassafras were finally coupled didn’t mean anything yet. It’s not like the broodmare was pregnant.

“And what would that money cost me?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

His smile spread wider, more genuine now that he sensed weakness. “Just dinner. A conversation about our future. That gorgeous little body of yours back where it belongs—in my bed.” He reached out, his fingertips grazing my cheek before I could jerk away. “You can keep playing cowgirl if that’s what gets you off. But we both know you need a man to handle the business end of things.”

Pride and panic waged war in my chest. I needed that money. The ranch needed that money. Everything I’d worked for, everything I’d sacrificed—it would all be gone in a week without it. I could endure one night with Derek if it meant saving Sunflower Hills.

No. No, I couldn’t. Because it wouldn’t be just one night. It never was with Derek. He’d use the money to collar me as surely as if he’d wrapped a leash around my neck.

“The desperation looks cute on you,” Derek said, climbing the final step so we were face to face. “Not as cute as you looked in that little black dress at the cattlemen’s gala last year, but it’s got its own charm.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Just say the word, and all your problems disappear. All you have to do is admit you can’t do this without me.”

A tenuous cord inside me snapped. I’d rather burn the ranch to the ground myself than give Derek the satisfaction of rescuing me. I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his sixty-five thousand dollars when his expression changed. His eyes widened, then narrowed to slits as he focused on an object over my shoulder.

I turned, finding Cyro in his perfect human disguise, striding silently down the front steps. His movements were too fluid to be human, but only someone looking for oddities would notice.

Relief flooded through me. I’d told him to stay inside, but in that moment, I couldn’t remember why. Safety in numbers seemed like a much better plan when facing Derek Morgan.