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He lifted a brow. “Aren’t you? You’re not signing on then?”

  She moaned and set aside her glass to bury her fingers in all that honey blonde hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Buck! Months of my life spent faking our engagement and then what? I have an episode where I’m choosing my dress and flowers? Jesus, this is getting worse by the minute.”

  “I understand if you say no. And I won’t be angry if you do,” he said quietly.

  She dropped her hands from her hair and stared at him. “But the money. I could…use it.” Something in her voice made him look at her more closely. Use it for what? Surely not for buying more of that pink Himalayan salt body wash. That shit was cheap as fuck and had left him itching like mad.

  He reached across the space and touched the back of her hand. Warmth rippled up his arm and into his whole chest. “It won’t be hard for me to pretend, Channing.”

  “Please don’t say things like that, Buck.” She sounded as though she’d burst into tears any second.

  He withdrew his hand. “Why don’t I give you some time and space to make this decision?”

  A shiver passed through her and all he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and make her understand how sorry he was that he couldn’t be what she wanted.

  He gained his feet and moved to the door.

  “Don’t forget your stuff on the table.”

  He stopped and wrapped his hand around the bottle. “I’ll take the soap but I’m leaving the ring. You know where to find me.”

  With that, he left her apartment. All the way home he fought the urge to turn his truck around and demand she be his fiancée for real, dammit. But he feared he was far too late for that, especially after asking her to help him for the money. He’d just proved her worth came with a price tag.

  When he reached the ranch, he remained seated in his truck for long minutes, digesting things. He had no desire for Wynonna’s rapid-fire questions about the situation but all of his family members were eagerly awaiting his news. Was Channing in or out?

  With a sigh, he got out of the truck and crossed the yard. The front porch was a typical ranch porch—long and wide with a lot of shade. He and Channing had actually shared an intense moment—or ten—here right after they’d been engaged.

  He swung his gaze to the lounge chair in the corner where he’d stretched atop her and kissed her until he was dizzy with passion. Then he’d found his way into her skinny jeans and made her come twice before carrying her into the house for more of the same.

  He pushed out a ragged breath and opened the screen door. The family dog Duke greeted him, and Buck absently rubbed the cattle hound’s ears. Boots and tack littered the mudroom, same as always. Growing up, his ma had fought with each of them about keeping the space neat and failed miserably. She’d given up and stopped caring, eventually adding her own boots and tack to the mix.

  “Buck.”

  He looked up at Ryder’s voice. Relief loosened the knot inside his chest slightly. If he had to face anybody, it would be Ryder.

  “What’d she say?”

  “She needs some time to think. She…fainted when I told her.”

  “Holy shit, she fainted?”

  “Yeah.” Buck stopped scratching the dog’s ears and it moved away to collapse in a heap on the mud-tracked floor. “I feel like a piece of shit for asking her. Hell, there has to be another way.”

  “Sure there is. We just don’t get the mineral rights. Or we keep rodeoing until we reach our goal and have enough to buy the rights off Ennis.”

  They exchanged a look. Ennis wasn’t going to wait that long. Going into this crazy scheme of buying the ranch, both he and Ryder had been skeptical that they could even make this work. The others had jumped right on it, though.

  Buck opened his mouth to say more when Ma’s voice shrilled from the kitchen. “Grub’s on!”

  Suddenly Buck couldn’t think of anything better than a stack of hotcakes. Except having Channing in bed, her cries muffled by his kisses. As soon as Ryder turned for the kitchen, Buck adjusted his growing cock.

  The table wasn’t set as usual. Plates were stacked on the corner for one of the six Calhouns to disperse, along with silverware. Buck grabbed them and started setting them at each place. When he reached his father’s empty chair at the head, he faltered for a second and bowed his head. Dammit, he could use some of the old man’s advice right about now.

  Ryder, coming behind Buck with silverware, rested a hand on his shoulder. Set in motion, Buck completed his task and took his chair just as the others stomped in from barn work and Wynonna drifted in still wearing her robe with her hair piled on top of her head.

  “You’re going to sleep through all the production hours if you don’t get up earlier,” Buck said to her.

  She lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug and yawned.

  In seconds all the plates were full and syrup and blueberry jam was being passed. Buck loaded his plate but didn’t take a bite. His thoughts were on Channing and how empty their table actually seemed without her bright morning chatter.

  “So Buck? What’s the verdict?” Lane asked.

  “Channing’s taking time to think about it.”

  “She doesn’t have much time with production beginning next week.”

  He leveled his glare at his brother. “She’s going to get as much time as she needs.”

  “I have something to say.” They all stopped shoveling pancakes into their mouths and centered their attention on their ma. She continued, “If I’m going to have film crews stomping through my house, I’m not showing America what hogs my six children are. I raised you better but that mudroom doesn’t reflect it.”

  Lane rolled his eyes and Buck shook his head. Wynonna woke up enough to stuff her mouth full of pancakes, probably to keep her sassy retort from coming out. Ryder sighed. “I’ll try harder, Ma.”

  “Me too,” Ridge echoed. As middle brother, he usually went along with what everyone else did. But his temper often flared, revealing his true thoughts on subjects. And West just gave their mother a toothy grin which meant he had no intention of picking up his boots or putting away his tack.

  “Now that’s settled, tell me more about this schedule.” Ma ate while Wynonna filled her in. Of them all, she was probably the most excited about the reality show. At eighteen, she was more in touch with trends and watched similar shows.

  Buck finished his food first and pushed away from the table to put his plate in the dishwasher. Funny to think in a few short days he’d have a camera over his shoulder, following him as he did all these mundane tasks. They’d probably cast a golden light on him putting a dish into the dishwasher and helping out his ma.

  Sure, he’d been taught well but now everything would be under scrutiny. Including his relationship with Channing. IF she signs on.

  “I’ll be out with the horses,” he muttered and left the house. What he needed was the cool morning air and hard work. Working Channing out of his system was going to be rough today, especially after holding her limp form in his arms and encouraging her to come out of her faint.

  A faint he’d caused.

  Dammit, there had to be another way to do things. For a moment he considered going back to her place and telling her to forget he’d even brought up the matter. She was off the hook.

  Chickens squawked and scattered, and he looked up to see Channing’s small car trundling up the driveway in a cloud of dust. Guess he wouldn’t have to wait long for her answer.

  Chapter Three

  Channing was bone-weary from busting her butt on the Calhoun ranch all day. After the family had practically dragged her into the kitchen and plied her with pancakes, they’d pressured her into giving her answer about the reality show before she’d even told Buck.

  But she’d looked up to see him standing in the doorway, his gaze lingering on her face and his rugged body so tense he seemed about to snap. Channing couldn’t meet his gaze when she’d told them yes, she was in. She’d do the show.

&n
bsp; Afterward, she’d gone out into the barn and grabbed a pair of work gloves off a nail on the wall. Normally she’d go out with Buck and check the horses but not today. She tagged along with Ryder.

  They could always talk, her and Ryder. Not for the first time, she wondered if she was just with the wrong brother. Then she spotted Buck galloping across the field and her body screamed out for him to come to her. No, she was definitely with the right brother if she added chemistry to the list of reasons.

  He didn’t say a word to her all through lunch but he had uncapped a bottled water and handed it to her. She’d taken it without replying and tried not to read anything into the gesture.

  As she replaced her gloves on the nail in the barn, she took a moment to rest against the wall. The wood was still warm from the day’s sun. It seeped into her sore muscles, acting like a hot stone massage.

  “You okay?” Buck’s voice shattered her peaceful moment.

  “Fine.”

  “Not feeling faint?”

  “No. That was a one-time thing, Buck. Thanks for your concern.” She started moving out of the barn but he caught her forearm. She looked down at his long fingers curled around her skin and couldn’t mask the shudder he raised in her.

  “We need to talk, Channing. We can’t leave things like this, especially if we’re supposed to be engaged.”

  “Are you suggesting we plot our relationship for the cameras?”

  He stared at her. Her body did crazy things. Like beg for her to throw herself at him and satisfy its cravings.

  He wet his lower lip, which only accentuated her need. She leaned against the wall again, seeking some support rather than muscle relief.

  Issuing a low groan, he said, “You’re driving me nuts, Channing.”

  At least it was a reaction rather than the dull head-dip she’d become accustomed to. “Oh?”

  “Yes.” He released her arm and, in a step, had her pinned to the wall with his big body. He smelled of leather and a day’s work, not unpleasant in the least. Her pheromones recognized his, and her nipples tightened.

  When he threaded his fingers into her hair and spread them over the base of her skull, white-hot need rushed into her veins. A noise broke from her.

  “Please don’t do this, Buck.” Her ragged plea totally contradicted her thought pattern.

  “Do what?” He leaned closer, his lips a scant breath from hers. He’d recently chewed some sweet grasses, and suddenly she couldn’t stop herself. She went on tiptoe, and he met her halfway, crushing her mouth beneath his. In a heartbeat the fires of their lust flamed to life and he angled his head to plunge his tongue deep into her mouth.

  Her arms somehow encircled his neck and her breasts pressed to his hard chest. She wiggled as her pussy throbbed for more of Buck—all of Buck—and he thrust his hips against hers, locking her against the wall.

  Dizziness overcame her, and for a moment she thought she might actually faint again. But he jerked his hips, his cock grinding against her neediest spot. “Buck,” she murmured.

  “I fucking want you.” He half-lifted her but she scrabbled the rest of the way up his body, climbing him like a tree. He thrust his tongue into her mouth again and again, mimicking the action she wanted most. She curled her blunt nails into his thick shoulders and dragged him closer. She was going to combust if he didn’t touch her the way she needed to be touched.

  In the back of her mind she recognized the soft whickering of animals and a yowl of a barn cat. Then footsteps.

  “Someone’s coming.”

  “So?” He nudged her jaw to the side to access her neck. When his hot lips descended on her skin, she issued a harsh hiss of pleasure.

  Suddenly she realized that days before she’d dumped him and now she was in his arms again. Confusion settled over her. She wanted Buck yet…she wasn’t willing to compromise anymore. Either they were a real couple and did real couple things—like communicating and enjoying each other’s company outside of the sheets—or they weren’t a couple.

  Except they were expected to play a couple on reality TV.

  “Shit.” She dropped her arms from around his neck, and he released her as if coming to the same conclusion. They stared at each other. “We’re not going to be able to do this, are we?”

  “Maybe we need to practice more.” He gave her a crooked grin.

  Her eyes flared wider. Practicing was exactly what she wanted.

  “I meant…the talking part.” He took a step back and adjusted his hard cock inside his Wranglers.

  “You want to practice talking? Is this like a rehearsal?”

  “I guess so. Why don’t we get cleaned up and grab a couple iced teas and then sit on the porch and talk?”

  Try to talk.

  “Okay.” Except now she was hot and bothered and needed release. Her body was conditioned to get what it wanted and talking seemed like the most boring thing in the world to do. Even though it was what she wanted with Buck. A real relationship.

  When he scuffled out of the barn, leaving her to watch his fine, tight ass, she pushed out a breath. “Guess I’m going to earn every penny.”

  * * * * *

  There wasn’t enough cold water in all of Oklahoma to cut Buck’s arousal. He’d stripped down and walked straight into a freezing cold spray in the shower. But all he could think about was Channing. Her scalding tongue gliding against his, her round breasts pressed to his chest. And the hot feel of her crotch grinding on his erection.

  He threw his head back and let the icy water run over his pulse point. Hell, nothing was helping his cock. He was as stiff under the cold water as he’d been out in the barn.

  Shuddering, he dipped his head and let the drops run over him. Then he gave himself a cursory wash and got out of the shower. After drying off, he went into his bedroom. Without her possessions his space appeared vacant.

  His bottom drawer was empty. Half of his closet too. And her scents and makeup that had once littered his dresser top were gone.

  Sighing, he dressed in clean but worn jeans and a T-shirt with his endorser’s logo. Then he went into the kitchen, grabbed two glasses of sweet tea and headed for the porch.

  Channing wasn’t there yet, so he took a seat in their usual corner on the lounge chair. The days still faded fast at this time of year, but soon the hours would stretch and so would his schedule. Between the ranch and rodeo, he’d be at a snapping point. Dump in the film crew and he had no idea if he’d ever have a moment alone again.

  When Channing’s boot step sounded, he looked up.

  And his heart slammed his chest wall. God, how did she do that? Manage to freshen up with only a sink of water and a hairbrush? Hell, she probably hadn’t even brushed her hair but finger-raked out the tangles. He’d seen her do it many times.

  He sat forward as she moved toward him, looking as nervous as a kitten surrounded by German Shepherds. He watched her long legs and the sway of her hips. Her breasts bounced softly, reminding him of slow, intense fucks. And her blue eyes slayed him.

  Swallowing a grunt, he handed her the tea. “Have a seat.”

  She dragged her gaze over him, her expression dazed as if thinking of that time in the lounger too. “Thanks for the tea.” She perched on the edge of the nearest chair.

  “Got a lot done today,” he said, not caring in the least if he’d baled a field of hay, pulled ten calves and branded a hundred ornery bulls.

  “So did I. Ryder’s a slave driver.” The barest hint of a smile around the corner of her full pink lips annoyed the hell out of Buck—especially since it wasn’t for his sake.

  “Ryder has a way of pushing a person for sure. Were you working on the water system?”

  “Yeah. I now know more about PVC pipe than I care to, but at least the animals have water spread over that field.”

  Buck nodded. The job she and Ryder had completed had been on the Calhouns’ to-do list for ages. The tank wasn’t enough for that many head of cattle and the pipes distributing it to various wat
ering holes would help. Then they weren’t carrying water all over the damn place.

  “Ryder’s smart with engineering things,” she said, raising the glass to her mouth.

  Buck focused on the cool glass pressed to her plump lip. His balls clenched.

  “I agree on some levels.” He wasn’t about to be generous with praise for his brother when his fiancée—or the woman posing as his fiancée—had obviously enjoyed working with Ryder all day.

  She lowered the glass and gave him that look. The one that meant she wasn’t happy with him.

  He sat up straighter and met her gaze head on. If they were going to have a collision, best to do it right now—and off-camera.

  Or skip it altogether and get to the making up part.

  “What’s not to agree about? Ryder’s done a lot around this ranch that makes life easier and work quicker for all of you.”

  “When he’s not being a know-it-all momma’s boy, sure.”

  Channing shook her head. Honey blonde hair swished across her breasts, sending Buck into paroxysms of need. He couldn’t touch her, though. He drew his brows together and tried not to lose control.

  “What’s wrong with Ryder doting on your mother? I think it’s sweet.”

  “Jesus, not you too.”

  Her own brows tugged downward along with the corners of her mouth. “You’re jealous.”

  “What the hell’s there to be jealous about?”

  “Maybe the fact that I worked with Ryder all day and not you?”

  There it was. The thing eating at him all damn day. He must have crisscrossed the field a dozen times just to see what she and Ryder had been up to. Not that he suspected anything was going on. But he didn’t like having Channing away from his own side.

  “You’re imagining things,” he said.

  When she got to her feet, he swung his legs over the side of the lounge chair. “Where are you going? I thought we were having a conversation.”

  “We couldn’t have a conversation if the world was ending and we had to decide how to survive. I can’t do this, Buck.”

  She started away. In a flash, he was on his feet and wrapping his fingers around her wrist. The delicate bones did things to his insides and he caught a whiff of body wash—but not hers.