Ranch Hand For Auction: A Western Romance Novella by Kimberly Krey Page B

playing the keep-it-cool card. He didn’t want to show the relief he felt about his daughter giving up on a guy he’d said was no good from the start.
    The truck came to a slow, and Meg glanced up. They were pulling up to the diner already. How long had she been silent? A quick glance at her phone said Shayna hadn’t texted her back. Who could blame her after that rant?
    “Stay there,” Jake said before climbing out of the truck. He walked around the front before opening her door. When their eyes met, he scrutinized her for a blink. “You doing all right?”
    She nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Just distracted. Sorry.”
    The provocative look that took over his face remedied that in a heartbeat. It seemed to say she’d misread his expression moments ago – that she’d misread his reaction to her suggestion about meeting his family as well.
    “It’s okay,” he said, “just promise that I’ll be the center of your thoughts from this point on and I’m good.”
    Meg chuckled, musing she might just be able to make good on that. She ran a finger over her chest in a crisscross motion, a coy smile spreading over her face. “Promise.”
    His gaze met hers, and a dose of liquid fire burst right through her chest.
    “Good,” he said. “Now let’s go get some breakfast.”

C hapter N ine
     
    “Are you here with Jake Billings?”
    Meg reached for the paper towels, began drying her hands as she eyed a woman through the restroom mirror. Tall, blonde, and paper doll thin. “Um, yeah. I am.” Meg spun around, wondering just what the woman had on her mind.
    “Sorry to bother you,” she said, folding her long arms across her chest. She popped out a hip and leaned on one stiletto heel. “I just wanted to know how you like it.” There was a challenge in her eyes. One that planted instant seeds of fear in Meg’s heart where Jake was concerned.
    She blew out a shallow breath. “How do I like what?”
    “Being one of Jake’s flavors of the month. He stayed with me a little longer than that. But the girl before me didn’t get more than a week. One after me had less than that.” She shoved a hand into her pink, sparkly purse and pulled out a gold tube of lipstick. With slow, precise steps, the woman clanked over to the mirror and applied it.
    “So…” she said while spreading on a second coat. She smacked her lips, blotted them with a paper towel, and disposed it in the trash. Her eyes fell back on Meg. “Is it worth being with him for that short amount of time, knowing that you’ll be getting the boot any day? Or are you hoping to be the one girl he actually falls in love with?”
    Panic tightened Meg’s throat. It pounded in her head. Numb, muted thumps buried beneath the woman’s words. She cleared her throat. “Thanks for your warning,” she managed, “but I know where I stand with Jake. And to be frank, it really doesn’t concern you.”
    The woman’s bottom lip puckered slightly, the look of disgust scrunching her face. “Well,” she snapped, “good luck then.” She strutted out of the restroom, leaving an even bigger presence in her wake: Doubt.
    The pounding in Meg’s head cranked up a notch. She closed her eyes, exhaled a jagged breath, and wondered if she should make for the stalls once more. Forget the appetite she’d had only moments ago, she was about to be sick.
    Flavor of the month?
    Was it possible that Jake was a player? Could her luck really be so bad? Nearly three years spent with Michael, a noncommittal type who’s as promising as the dead end on Ritter Drive. And now, once she falls for a guy she’s positive is Michael’s total opposite, Meg hears he’s dating and dumping girls left and right. Please say she’s lying. Please please please.  
    After the inward chant, Meg swung open the heavy door. Jake stood facing the window in the foyer, hands tucked into his pockets, his cowboy hat on his head. Once he started to shift, a lazy turn in her direction, Meg could nearly hear the