A Blind Date With Her Cowboy Billionaire Boss Page 2

  The main building was a massive barn-shape set against stables and fields of green.

  Shelby swallowed nervously and approached the building, walking up the long drive to reach the lobby of the ‘hotel.’

  The inside was even grander than she could ever have imagined.

  Brookside Ranch ran with the log cabin, rustic theme and did it with elegance. The inside walls were made of thick, dark logs that made the room smell incredible. Each log was piped with white.

  The ceiling was peaked to look like the inside of a barn, and there was a large stone fireplace sitting amidst the cozy interior—leather couches with fur blankets, warm amber pillows, and rich and décor.

  Shelby felt suddenly unfit to work in such a nice place. She looked behind the front desk where a young woman, perhaps Shelby’s age if not a few years younger, sat. The girl had dark brown hair and wore an outfit similar to Shelby’s, which put her at ease.

  “Hi, I was hoping to drop off my resume,” she said as she approached the front desk of the unimaginably ritzy cabin-castle.

  “I’ll have Christopher walk you down to HR,” the receptionist said with a smile.

  Within minutes, Shelby had arrived at a set of offices at the far end of the building and was in yet another lobby in front of a reception desk.

  Shifting awkwardly, Shelby approached the middle-aged woman behind the new desk and said, “I was hoping to drop off my resume?”

  “Great!” the woman said. She was cheerful as she announced, “My name is Molly. I can take that for you if you like.”

  “Thank you.”

  Molly scanned the paper quickly, flipping it front to back before looking back up at Shelby with a polite smile.

  “So, it says here you've worked at a medical office in Dallas?” Molly asked, pulling a pen out of a glass holder that reminded Shelby of a mason jar.

  “Yes, for five years,” Shelby nodded.

  “And besides that, you've worked at an ice cream shop?”

  Feeling embarrassed that she had included it on her resume, Shelby flushed. “When I was a teenager.”

  “Mmhmm,” Molly said, almost dismissively. “And, any experience on a ranch?”

  “I know my way around a horse,” Shelby said.

  “Oh, that's perfect!” Molly said, brightening slightly. “How’s that?”

  “Well, I grew up here in Carrin. I haven't been back since they sold the ranch,” Shelby explained.

  “Well, that's just amazing. Let me be the first person to welcome you to Brookside Ranch! We're part of a luxury branch of resorts owned by the Brooks family.”

  Shelby smiled. “I heard. It's absolutely beautiful here. I can't believe how much it's changed.”

  “They know what they're doing. Okay, so, Shelby. Are you looking for full-time or part-time work?”

  “Full time, if possible,” she said and watched as Molly scribbled her answer on the top right corner of her resume.

  “Yep, that's perfect. Available to work weekends, holidays?”

  “Yes, and yes,” she said.

  She had sensed at first that Molly thought Shelby had lost her way when she stepped into Brookside, but the longer the two chatted, the warmer the HR receptionist seemed.

  Molly asked her a couple more questions about her availability and job expectations before seeming satisfied with her answers.

  “You know what?” the receptionist said triumphantly. “We've been looking for another tour guide, if you're comfortable being on a horse most of the day?”

  “As long as the horse is comfortable, I'm comfortable,” Shelby said, feeling a twinge of excitement in the tips of her fingers.

  “Okay. Can I ask you to come in tomorrow at around eight? I know it's a little early, but I'd love to get you in here and do a formal interview, show you around, all that good stuff?”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “Bring riding boots,” Molly said. “I want to see how you do with the horses. We’ll do a really fun tour, and afterward, you should get a pretty good idea of whether Brookside would be a good fit for you.”

  “Sounds perfect!” Shelby said excitedly.

  “Great. See you tomorrow!”

  Chapter Three

  Colt

  Colt had gone through a metamorphosis of mornings over his lifetime.

  When he was a teenager, his summer mornings were spent sleeping in until eleven, waking up to a big breakfast made by his mother—reheated in the microwave, of course. And finally, he’d wrap up his morning hours by watching an hour or two of television before heading out with his friends.

  In his early twenties, he met Amma in a Texas hospital room. He had been playing football with his buddies when a wayward slip had resulted in a gash in his forehead. She was there due to her heart.

  They were the only two people in the waiting room, which was rare, and struck up a conversation.

  Amma wasn’t strikingly beautiful—not at first. She was plain-looking, with a soft oval face, wispy bangs, and brown eyes. But he was taken aback by her smile.

  His wild attraction to her would come later.

  They talked for a half-hour in the waiting room. When he asked her what was wrong, she said, “Heart.”

  “Attack?” he said.

  She shook her head with a shy smile. “It’s broken.”

  He smirked. “Poetically speaking or…?”

  That’s when she told him about her rare heart condition: spontaneous coronary artery dissection. There was little known about SCAD other than the artery walls of the heart can peel and separate, which would then lead to a blockage in the heart.

  He felt like a jerk for asking her if she’d had a heart attack, but she flashed him a bright smile and said, “Don’t worry about it. Who knows, maybe your rudeness will turn out to be our ‘meet-cute.’”

  Colt was hooked from that moment on.

  After he was with Amma, summer mornings were spend lazily wrapped up in each other’s arms or walking through the unknown city streets to find new restaurants, forever on the hunt of the perfect burrito.

  Just one short year after they met, Colt and Amma married in a small but luxurious ceremony at The Astorian in Houston, Texas.

  Amma wasn’t someone who was attracted to Colt for his family money. She never asked for him to pay for things, even though he always did, and willingly said she would sign a prenup before they got married. He did not take her up on that offer.

  But when Amma saw the Astorian ballroom, she all but made puppy-dog eyes at Colt. It reminded her of a real-life version of the ballroom from Beauty and the Beast, she insisted. She had to have it.

  So he got it for her.

  They had a small wedding of just one hundred and fifty guests. Amma wore a golden yellow dress, like Belle’s, and they had the most amazing, out-of-place Mexican feast at their reception.

  “Dad, I want my red shirt!” Colt could hear Isaiah calling from the other room, ripping him from his memories.

  Now mornings in the Brooks household were chaotic, to say the least.

  By the time Colt and Amma reached their first-year anniversary, Amma had given birth to Isaiah. He was a good baby, and Amma was happy to spend her days in servitude to the little life they had created.

  She wanted a bigger family, she kept insisting. But the doctors said the first pregnancy had been hard on her condition. Amma was sweet, loving, thoughtful…stubborn.

  At twenty-six, Amma died during childbirth.

  Eleanor was born a healthy baby girl, without a mother.

  Her birth was bittersweet, and Colt was ashamed to say that a part of him had a hard time bonding with Eleanor because of this fact.

  “Dad, I want my red shirt!” Isaiah called from the living room.

  “Yeah, Daddy's gonna grab that for you,” Colt called with an exasperated breath.

  Eleanor began screaming, letting out an indignant cry.

  Colt sucked in a breath and rushed to her crib, pulling her out of her swa
ddle and onto her changing table.

  As he changed her, she screamed bloody murder. Her cries were so piercing that Colt literally cringed as he tended to his daughter.

  “Dad! My red shirt! My red shirt!” Isaiah began yelling.

  Colt could feel his patience running thin. Work was wearing him down, the kids were wearing him down—his whole life was wearing him down.

  He didn't know how Amma did it.

  Colt wasn't afraid of anyone. He'd taken on his job as owner of the ranch without flinching. He knew business was in him. It was in his blood. His father ran a ranch, as did his grandfather before him. The Brooks were a family of farmers, to some extent or another. Not to mention years of being in college for business and his wife's degree in marketing had more than prepared them for opening the luxury ranch without much help.

  He wasn't afraid of danger-sports. Skydiving, hot air balloon rides, snowboarding—he'd done it all. And anything he hadn't tried yet he was completely open to.

  But taking care of his baby and four-year-old? That scared him more than anything in the whole world.

  Some days he wanted to lock himself in his bedroom and scream. He wanted to be a kid again. To be able to fall back on the age-old adage of ‘Can't somebody else do it?’

  But nobody else could do it, and it was wearing on Colt like a bad sunburn—the itchy, flaky, painful kind.

  “Hold on, Isaiah, just let me finish changing your—” he began but watched in horror as, just as he secured a new diaper onto his little girl, she immediately pooped again.

  Colt pressed his eyes closed, infuriated.

  “Dad, I need my red shirt!” Isaiah complained, walking into Eleanor’s bedroom with stomping feet.

  “Isaiah!” Colt yelled, his voice husky and full of irritation.

  His little boy’s eyes went wide with surprise before he burst into tears.

  Colt felt his heart sink as he looked down at his son. Beginning Eleanor’s second diaper change in the span of two minutes, Colt took a breath and turned his attention to Isaiah.

  “I'm sorry for yelling,” he tried to say softly. “But you need to give me five seconds to take care of your sister, okay?”

  Isaiah was already done crying, but he didn’t take his father’s apology to heart.

  “I miss mommy,” he said in an accusing tone.

  “Yeah, well, so do I,” Colt snapped back.

  Isaiah stormed off, and he could hear his son out in the hallway, talking to Colt’s mother.

  He finished changing Eleanor and suited her up in a little yellow onesie. He pulled her into his arms, and she quieted immediately, letting out long, contented coo.

  He rocked her in his arms, feeling a sense of peace for the first time that morning. He closed his eyes and held her head against his chest.

  Colt heard his mother come into the room and he opened his eyes.

  “Bad morning?” his mother asked.

  “It's gotta get easier than this, right?” he asked desperately.

  “Don't ask me. I had six boys and a girl,” Shannon laughed. “Nothing ever got easier. I went from diapers to drama. Jett is thirty-two now, and I still get calls from him to listen to his problems.”

  “It never stops?” he asked.

  Shannon shook her head with a knowing smile. “The family just gets bigger. Girlfriends, boyfriends, wives, babies. Bigger and bigger.”

  “Don’t tell me that,” he laughed.

  “I’m just being honest,” she laughed. “You should head off to work. Here, let me take her.”

  His mother reached for Eleanor and gently took the eight-month-old into her arms.

  “Thanks for the pep talk,” he said, kissing Eleanor on the cheek before landing a kiss on his mom’s forehead. “Bye.”

  “Bye, dear.”

  It was just barely eight in the morning, and Colt’s day had been off to a miserable start. Isaiah was mad at him, his daughter was on a hit-and-miss schedule of sleeping and napping, and the fact that he’d managed to leave the house without spit-up on his shoulder was practically a miracle.

  When he entered the office, he noticed a girl waiting in the lobby. She was certainly a sight to see. She wore blue jeans, riding boots, and a yellow-and-blue flannel short-sleeved shirt. Her hair was pale blonde, natural, and her skin was bronzed.

  What caught Colt’s attention the most was the ice-blue eyes hidden behind oversized glasses.

  He shook his head when he realized he was staring and continued down the hall into his office.

  Molly would tend to the visitor.

  He savored the silence of his office and began to make a drink. He sat back in his chair, tilting his cowboy hat and taking an eager sip of the black coffee.

  Colt loved his morning traditions. He checked his calendar for the day's events and then checked his work phone for messages. That was when he got the call from Molly that she had the flu and wouldn’t be coming in that day.

  He set his phone on the desk and leaned back even farther. That was fine. Molly wasn’t scheduled for the next day, Annette was. That would make things easier since they’d only have to be without her for one day.

  That’s when it occurred to Colt that there had been a girl waiting out in the lobby and she was probably waiting for Molly.

  He sprung up from his chair and walked out, sans-coffee, and greeted the girl. “Hi,” he said.

  “Hello,” she nodded.

  “Can I…?” he said, drawing out his words, “Help you?”

  “Oh, um. My name is Shelby Peters,” the girl said, standing from her seat. “I was supposed to meet Molly here at eight, sharp.”

  He nodded and looked down at his watch. “Well, it’s ten after now. That's probably not feeling so sharp right about now, is it?”

  “No, sir. It is not.”

  “What were you meeting her for?” he asked.

  “I had an interview,” she said unsurely, maintaining eye-contact with him.

  “Oh,” he said simply. “Well, Molly is sick today, actually. Um,” he stammered, looking back down at his watch. “You mind doing the interview with me instead?”

  “Of course!” the girl said eagerly.

  “Great. Do you have a copy of your resume?” he asked.

  “No, sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I gave one to Molly yesterday but—”

  Colt offered her a polite wave of dismissal. “That's alright,” he said. “I'm not fussy.”

  He led her down the short hallway to his office door and opened it for her. “Please, step into my office.” He paused, smiled, then said, “I always want to say that, followed by an evil laugh.”

  Shelby blinked in surprise, turning to look at him as she passed through the doorframe. “I'm sorry?” she said.

  “You know,” he shrugged bashfully, trying to explain, “Like, ‘Welcome to my office, mwahahaha.’” Colt did his best evil villain laugh and waited for Shelby to react. When she didn’t, he twirled his fingers and explained, “As to imply impending doom upon entering...”

  Shelby swallowed and continued to stare at him curiously.

  “Just because it would be so weird, right?” he said with an unsure laugh.

  “It definitely would be weird,” she said, raising her fair eyebrows pointedly. “In fact, I probably wouldn't have come into the office if you did that.”

  “Because of the evil laugh?” he asked, closing the door behind them.

  She sat across from him at the desk and laughed. “This may surprise you, but it's slightly off-putting,” she said.

  “Then I guess you can see why I'm not usually the one who does interviews here.”

  Shelby laughed again, and it was a heavenly sound.

  “I mostly spend my social time with a four-year-old and an eight-month-old. So, you can see why my social skills might be lacking, currently,” he offered by way of explanation. “Doing silly voices and laughing is basically my entire toddler arsenal right now.”

  “Don't worry about it,” sh
e smiled. “I forgive you.” She cleared her throat. “And your boss won't mind you taking up this interview? I can come back when Molly is feeling better if that makes things easier.”

  Colt didn’t know whether he should laugh, blush, or be offended. He was clearly so unprofessional that she didn’t recognize a business owner when she saw one.

  “Trying to get rid of me already, huh?” he teased. “Well actually, the boss is pretty good with me taking the interview. In fact, I'm the boss's favorite employee.” He shrugged and said, “Because I am the boss.”

  Shelby bit her thin, pointed lip and gushed nervously, “Oh man. Am I pre-fired?”

  Colt laughed and shook his head. “No! Don't worry about it. Hey, if I were in your shoes, I'd hassle me too.” He looked down toward her purse and then back to his desk. He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen as he began to mumble, “So, let's see...where should we begin? Hey, do you want a coffee, water, something?”

  “No, I'm good, thank you.”

  “Alright,” he said. “Then why don't you tell me where you've worked in the past?”

  Shelby began to tell him about her years working in a pediatrician’s office and provided the necessary references.

  “And you were there for five years?” he said, scribbling lightly on the paper in front of him. “That sounds amazing. Why would you leave all that just to come and wrangle some horses with us?”

  “I moved back recently after a bit of a...family thing,” she said awkwardly. “And I couldn't keep my job in Dallas. And to be honest, I was getting a little...um...I was ready for a change.”

  He smiled. “Well, this is a change. You know that horses are a dirty job, right? I mean, beautiful, no doubt about it,” he laughed. “But you'll be their new best friend in this job. That means spending time with them, caring for them, cleaning up their messes, all that?”

  “Yeah, absolutely,” she said eagerly. “I'm one million percent okay with that.”

  Shelby was a nice girl. She had wit; he could tell that right off the bat. She knew how to keep up with him, how to banter back and forth effortlessly. The longer they talked, the more he felt perhaps being a ranch-hand wasn’t in the cards for the young woman.

  Colt bit his lip and shifted in his seat, looking down at the paper in front of him.