Winning The Rancher's Heart. Pamela Britton

dying to use that oven.”

      He appeared to consider her words. “You won’t have to cook for me much. I like to graze more than eat big meals.”

      “Not ever?” She couldn’t contain her disappointment.

      “And when I do cook, I actually enjoy cooking myself.”

      Once again, her mouth went slack. “Really?”

      And there it was again: the soft chuff. Definitely laughter.

      “Yes, really.”

      “So I guess it’s back to my hidey-hole then.”

      “Let me know how it goes.”

      She nodded, resisted the urge to smile one last time, then turned and walked away, but as she traveled across the cavernous width of his office, her tennis shoes making nary a sound on the hardwood floors, she had the strangest sensation. He watched her. She was so sure of it that she paused at the doorway, glanced back.

      Their gazes connected.

      She froze. She wasn’t sure why. It was the look on his face. It wasn’t one that made her think he was attracted to her in any way shape or form. To be honest, she’d been on the receiving end of those looks more than once since Trev had died. No, it was more like she was a weed he’d spotted in the fancy hedges outside.

      Her lips lifted in an automatic smile. He didn’t smile back. She turned her smile up to its full wattage. Still no response. Good heavens. The man had the personality of a wooden stick.

      “See you later.”

      And then he did something she didn’t expect. He saluted to her. It made her laugh. She didn’t know why, but it did, and she didn’t mind letting him hear it as she walked toward the stairs.

       Chapter Four

      She’d laughed at him.

      It bothered him. Actually, a lot of things about her bothered him. Her looks affected him in a way he didn’t want to admit. The thought of her washing his undergarments had filled him with mild horror, and yet before he’d met her he’d planned for his new housekeeper to do exactly that. Now...?

      He was so deep in thought about her that he jumped when his phone chimed. Incoming call from a number he didn’t recognize.

      “My kids didn’t have any luck finding the dog,” said a deeply Southern voice. “So I called Claire and she’s on her way over with a trap. She thinks we’ll have no problem, but we both agree he’s not going to a shelter.”

      He just shook his head, not that Naomi could see it. “Fine. You catch him. You deal with him.”

      “Sounds good. I told her to meet us out front.”

      “Us?”

      “I presumed you’d want a say in where we place the trap.”

      She had a point.

      But it wasn’t until he was outside, watching her round the corner of his house, that he admitted he’d been kidding himself. He could have left the matter to Claire. She was the professional dog handler. But he’d wanted to see Naomi. Had wanted to look for that mischievous grin of hers again.

      Why?

      It alarmed him, the realization that he was attracted to her.

      Claire wasn’t there yet, but Naomi spotted him sitting on the porch, the maroon cushions beneath him not the least bit comfortable. He really would need to do something about his furniture. He couldn’t have guests over and have them sit on... What was it she’d called it? Medieval torture devices.

      “My kids are bummed they won’t get to catch Tramp.”

      She smiled in amusement and it brightened her face in a way that made him want to... He frowned. He didn’t know what it made him want to do.

      She crossed in front of him, a hint of vanilla trailing in her wake, and sat on the matching redwood seat.

      “Ugh.” Her smile faltered, but only a little. “Did they use rocks for stuffing?”

      “It’s the buttons,” he said, shifting in his own seat.

      She leaned over, her long red hair swinging forward. It was later in the day now and the sun loved the color. It set the strands afire in such a way that he knew it was natural. All of her was natural, from the dark brows to the thick lashes to the bee-stung lips.

      “You mind me asking who decorated? I might hire them to make furniture for my kids to sit in when they’re bad.”

      Almost, almost, he laughed. He caught it just in time. He didn’t want her to know how easily she charmed him, not since they’d be working so closely together. “You might be onto something.”

      She straightened suddenly, and he realized a white van was coming down his long drive. They had an uninterrupted view of the land. He’d planned it that way. In his line of business, you always used the terrain to your advantage. Nestled up against a hill, it wouldn’t be easy to breach his home from the back, just the front, and he’d helped mitigate the weakness by clearing his property so that only oak trees remained. No shrubs for people to hide behind. Not that he expected enemies. Still, it was always good to be prepared.

      “Claire,” Naomi said, standing and already on the move.

      He’d somehow forgotten that they knew each other. Although Ethan had recommended her for the job, it was clear she’d formed a bond with the man’s wife based on the way she ran to Claire’s vehicle, her image reflected back to him on its surface.

      “That was quick,” he heard Naomi say as Claire exited the van.

      “I only live half a mile away,” Claire said.

      The two women hugged and drew back, and Jax realized he’d never seen Claire smile before. Not truly smile. The grin she gave Naomi could have beamed signals up to the moon. They both turned and started walking toward him.

      “Are you and the kids settling in okay?”

      Naomi nodded. “The kids were all over the place this morning looking for the dog. T.J. said he had a blast. Even Sam seemed to have enjoyed herself. The fresh air is probably good for them.”

      “I can’t wait to meet them. And to see Janus.”

      “You will. We can all have lunch together.”

      “Perfect.”

      Naomi’s face was an entire movie cast of emotions, Jax realized, and he couldn’t look away. Everything she felt showed. Perhaps that was what fascinated him. In his line of work you never let anyone see what you were thinking. Naomi let it all hang out.

      “So you found a dog,” Claire said when she made it to the porch, her own ink-black hair loose around her shoulders. Up until he’d met Naomi, he’d thought Claire had the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen. Now he realized they hadn’t even touched the surface.

      “He was on the front porch when I got here yesterday.”

      “And you tried to catch him.”

      “Actually, no. I thought he belonged to Jax.” She glanced at him, smiling. “It was only later that I realized my mistake, and when we tried to catch him earlier, he ran away.”

      Jax stood, and he didn’t hesitate to open his arms. Ethan’s wife was petite as a butterfly, but she had the strength of an armored truck. Her son, Adam, had been diagnosed with cancer at a young age. But throughout his many treatments, she’d been there for him, nursing him and caring for him, and you would never have known how sick Adam had been watching him ride around the ranch these days. She’d truly been through hell and come out on the other side and he admired her for it.

      “What?”