Claiming The Rancher's Heir (Gold Valley Vineyards #2) - Maisey Yates Page 0,13

biting each other’s head off.

She didn’t like him. He didn’t like her.

It had been just... Just to feel good.

And then, in spite of the shaking, in spite of the nerves riding through her body, she felt a smile curve her lips. Maybe what she’d done had been out of character. But it had been her choice. And she had liked it. She had liked it a lot. And what was wrong with that? What was wrong with doing something wild? She hadn’t hurt anybody, not like her dad. And she hadn’t done it for anyone else. She had done it for her. She had done it because she hadn’t been able to make any other choice. Because she had wanted it so damn much.

That was a Wren choice. The real Wren. The Wren who lived somewhere deep inside her. Who didn’t just do things for approval, or because it was easy. Because it was the next step on the path.

She couldn’t help but be proud of herself for that.

And she couldn’t be ashamed of it either.

For the first time in her life, Wren Maxfield had done something truly spontaneous. And she was just going to enjoy it.

Three

Eighteen years of flawless self-control had been completely destroyed in under an hour. He could throw a whole parade fueled by his guilt and regret. The trouble with guilt and regret, for him, was that it was such a tiresome old standby that his body immediately converted it to anger.

He was currently outside on his ranch trying to burn off the rage that was firing through his veins. She had done this to him. She had made him into something he didn’t recognize. Or worse, something he did recognize. Someone he knew from a long time ago. Someone who had made mistakes others had to pay for.

Damn Wren Maxfield.

And damn his libido.

He was thirty-four years old. He was better than that. Better than a quick screw against a wall. Better than ignoring her and what had happened right after.

Dammit. He had not handled that well.

He picked up a large boulder, hefted it upward, then walked about five feet before dropping it down in the spot where he was building a retaining wall near his house.

The ground was soft and slick here, made of clay, and when it rained, it had a bad habit of turning into a flood, and quickly. So he was building a wall to make sure that the water funneled where he wanted it to funnel. He’d already dug a trench, which had helped with a little of his frustration. Lifting boulders would hopefully be the antidote for the rest of it.

“I thought I might find you here.”

He turned and saw his brother, Jackson, standing there, leaning against the stone post at the bottom of the driveway.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I might ask you the same thing. Since you didn’t show up to the winery this morning.”

“I had work to do here.” He gestured to the stones.

“Looks like it. Except... Normally you let us know when you’re not coming in.”

“Since when are you so up in all the winery stuff?”

“I always have been. It’s just that I don’t usually have to come looking for you. So maybe you don’t notice.”

“Did Dad send you?”

“No. But he did ask after you.”

“Well, Dad needs to keep himself busy.”

In the two years since their mother had died, their dad had become something of a hermit. The work at the winery had shifted more to Creed, Jackson and Honey. It was difficult for Law Cooper to deal with the loss of his wife. In fact, it could be argued that he hadn’t dealt with it at all. He’d simply buried his head in the sand, doing things on the ranch that didn’t require him to interact much with people.

“You know, I’m not sure I believe Dad asked after me.”

“He did,” Jackson said, a strange blankness in his expression. “He worries about you. He worries about all of us. Hell, I think he worries about everything these days.”

“Maybe he should start doing winery work again. It might take his mind off things.”

“Might.”

“Anyway. Now you know where I am. You could have called like a normal person.”

“You wouldn’t have answered. Because you’re avoiding me.”

“What makes you think I’m avoiding you? I don’t come into work one morning and you immediately think it’s about you? Nice ego on you, Jackson.”

“All right, not me specifically,” Jackson said. “But something.”

“It’s just this whole thing planning the party.” Creed figured he