Seduce Me, Cowboy. Maisey Yates

Brown, forest green and a red that reminded her of cranberries.

      The house smelled new. Which was maybe a strange observation to make, but the scent of wood lingered in the air, and something that reminded her of paint.

      “How long have you lived here?” she asked, more comfortable with polite conversation than contending with silence.

      “Just moved in last month,” he said. “One of our designs. You might have guessed, this is what Gray Bear does. Custom homes. That’s our specialty. And since my construction company merged with Grayson Design, we’re doing design as well as construction.”

      “How many people can buy places like this?” she asked, turning in a circle while she walked, daunted by the amount of house they had left behind them, and the amount that was still before them.

      “You would be surprised. For a lot of our clients these are only vacation homes. Escapes to the coast and to the mountains. Mostly, we work on the Oregon coast, but we make exceptions for some of the higher-paying clientele.”

      “That’s...kind of amazing. I mean, something of this scale right here in Copper Ridge. Or I guess, technically, we’re outside the city limits.”

      “Still the same zip code,” he said, lifting a shoulder.

      He took hold of two sliding double doors fashioned to look like barn doors and slid them open, revealing a huge office space with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view that made her jaw drop.

      The sheer immensity of the mountains spread before them was incredible on its own. But beyond that, she could make out the faint gray of the ocean, whitecapped waves and jagged rocks rising out of the surf.

      “The best of everything,” he said. “Sky, mountains, ocean. That kind of sums up the company. Now that you know about us, you can tell me why I should hire you.”

      “I want the job,” she said, her tone hesitant. As soon as she said the words, she realized how ridiculous they were. Everybody who interviewed for this position would want the job. “I was working as a secretary for my father’s...business,” she said, feeling guilty about fudging a little bit on her résumé. But she hadn’t really wanted to say she was working at her father’s church, because... Well, she just wanted to come in at a slightly more neutral position.

      “You were working for your family?”

      “Yes,” she said.

      He crossed his arms, and she felt slightly intimidated. He was the largest man she’d ever seen. At least, he felt large. Something about all the height and muscles and presence combined.

      “We’re going to have to get one thing straight right now, Hayley. I’m not your daddy. So if you’re used to a kind and gentle working environment where you get a lot of chances because firing you would make it awkward around the holidays, this might take some adjustment for you. I’m damned hard to please. And I’m not a very nice boss. There’s a lot of work to do around here. I hate paperwork, and I don’t want to have to do any form twice. If you make mistakes and I have to sit at that desk longer as a result, you’re fired. If I’ve hired you to make things easier between myself and my clients, and something you do makes it harder, you’re fired. If you pass on a call to me that I shouldn’t have to take, you’re fired.”

      She nodded, wishing she had a notepad, not because she was ever going to forget what he’d said, but so she could underscore the fact that she was paying attention. “Anything else?”

      “Yeah,” he said, a slight smile curving his lips. “You’re also fired if you fuck up my coffee.”

      * * *

      This was a mistake. Jonathan Bear was absolutely certain of it. But he had earned millions making mistakes, so what was one more? Nobody else had responded to his ad.

      Except for this pale, strange little creature who looked barely twenty and wore the outfit of an eighty-year-old woman.

      She was... Well, she wasn’t the kind of formidable woman who could stand up to the rigors of working with him.

      His sister, Rebecca, would say—with absolutely no tact at all—that he sucked as a boss. And maybe she was right, but he didn’t really care. He was busy, and right now he hated most of what he was busy with.

      There was irony in that, he knew. He had worked hard all his life. While a lot of his friends had sought solace and oblivion in drugs and alcohol, Jonathan had figured it was best to sweat the poison right out.

      He’d gotten a job on a construction site when he was fifteen, and learned his trade. He’d gotten to where he was faster, better than most of the men around him. By the time he was twenty, he had been doing serious custom work on the more upscale custom homes he’d built with West Construction.

      But he wanted more. There was a cap on what he could make with that company, and he didn’t like a ceiling. He wanted open skies and the freedom to go as high, as fast as he wanted. So he could amass so much it could never be taken from him.

      So he’d risked striking out on his own. No one had believed a kid from the wrong side of the tracks could compete with West. But Jonathan had courted business across city and county lines. And created a reputation beyond Copper Ridge so that when people came looking to build retirement homes or vacation properties, his was the name they knew.

      He had built everything he had, brick by brick. In a strictly literal sense in some cases.

      And every brick built a stronger wall against all the things he had left behind. Poverty, uncertainty, the lack of respect paid to a man in his circumstances.

      Then six months ago, Joshua Grayson had approached him. Originally from Copper Ridge, the man had been looking for a foothold back in town after years in Seattle. Faith Grayson, Joshua’s sister was quickly becoming the most sought after architect in the Pacific Northwest. But the siblings had decided it was time to bring the business back home in order to be closer to their parents.

      And so Joshua asked Jonathan if he would consider bringing design in-house, making Bear Construction into Gray Bear.

      This gave Jonathan reach into urban areas, into Seattle. Had him managing remote crews and dealing with many projects at one time. And it had pushed him straight out of the building game in many ways. He had turned into a desk drone. And while his bank account had grown astronomically, he was quite a ways from the life he thought he’d live after reaching this point.

      Except the house. The house was finally finished. Finally, he was living in one of the places he’d built.

      Finally, Jonathan Bear, that poor Indian kid who wasn’t worth anything to anyone, bastard son of the biggest bastard in town, had his house on the side of the mountain and more money than he would ever be able to spend.

      And he was bored out of his mind.

      Boredom, it turned out, worked him into a hell of a temper. He had a feeling Hayley Thompson wasn’t strong enough to stand up to that. But he expected to go through a few assistants before he found one who could handle it. She might as well be number one.

      “You’ve got the job,” he said. “You can start tomorrow.”

      Her eyes widened, and he noticed they were a strange shade of blue. Gray in some lights, shot through with a dark, velvet navy that reminded him of the ocean before a storm. It made him wonder if there was some hidden strength there.

      They would both find out.

      “I got the job? Just like that?”

      “Getting the job was always going to be the easy part. It’s keeping the job that might be tricky. My list of reasons to hire you are short—you showed up. The list of reasons I have for why I might fire you is much longer.”

      “You’re not very reassuring,” she said, her lips tilting down in a slight frown.

      He laughed. “If you want to go back and work for your daddy, do that. I’m not going to call you. But maybe you’ll