A False Start (Gold Rush Ranch, #4)

by Elsie Silver

“Once is an accident. Twice is a mistake.”

Oh, brother. If you only knew.

“So, a bucket list?” I groan. A bucket list sounds so cliché. “No,” I say, pulling my hand off the page to show her the title. “Life To Do List.”

My eyes shoot to the front porch, through the big windows that overlook it. Billie is still talking at Griffin. But Griffin is looking at me.

“Security system,” she says over her shoulder. “The code is 6969.” She types the numbers in, and sure enough, the beeping stops, and she spins around to say something, but must catch the expression on my face. “What? Are you going to tell me there’s an easier number to remember?” I already miss the solitude of the mountains.

I don’t need him to roll out the red carpet. But telling me I’m hot and then ignoring me isn’t making me wet in the panties.

Silas is bent over the page like some sort of prodigy. Tiny, chubby hand fisted around a blue crayon, so small next to the big mountain man seated beside him. He must notice that Griffin has stopped coloring because his elbow juts out, nudging the inked arm beside him. “More fish,” he says simply, in his sugary baby voice. “Do a biiiig fish.” It’s then that Griffin drops my gaze and leans into the little boy next to him and hits him with a soft, playful sort of smile. One that jabs me right in the ovaries. “Yes, boss,” he says, with more animation than I’ve ever heard him use. “How big? Shark big?”

Couldn’t NOT mark this whole interaction

The man is an amusement park for my eyes.

All that aside, a man should always take no for an answer. If you have to pressure a woman into doing something, you’re a pencil-prick with no manners. In my book anyway.

“It’s nice being close enough to pop in.” I lean close to my mother’s petite frame and wrap an arm around her narrow shoulders. “I love you, Mom.” My lips press against the black hair at her temple. “I love you, too, sweet boy.

Sobbing because I love a man who loves his mother

He’s so fucking hot. He oozes masculinity. It leaks out of his pores and the effect on me is heady. There’s no doubt I have a crush on my brother’s friend. And I almost want to laugh at it. How fucking cliche.

He holds one hand up to the door of the crate, letting the excited dog lick at his skin. Don’t blame you, boy. Don’t blame you at all.

Wildflower. She doesn’t want to be tamed, and I shouldn’t want to try this badly. I should steer her in the opposite direction and send her running.

If she weren’t completely off-limits, I’d take her over my knee. Age difference be damned.

Like the simplest things in life bring her pleasure. It makes me desperate to know what else is on that list. What else could bring her happiness like what’s flowing off her right now? Because, in this moment, I think I’d do anything to check those things off for her.

Apparently, I’m the only person here who doesn’t have heart-eyes for Griffin Sinclaire and his quiet, gloomy persona.

Mhmm, sure you don’t

The girl I want to become should be pissed that Griffin stepped in and went all caveman on that sleaze bag. But I’m not pissed. I’m relieved.

“Maybe you just like being around me.” Her smile grows, her body language changing. When our eyes meet, she pulls out a saucy wink. She thinks she’s joking, but the truth is spot on—I do like being around her. I just can’t explain why.

My cheek pinches with a lopsided smile. And then I blurt out something I should not. “It’s because your name starts with an n. Just makes scolding you that much easier.” I laugh it off, until she turns to me and says smoothly, “I think you just like saying my name.” I swallow because I am so fucked where Nadia Dalca is concerned. Yes, Wildflower. I like saying your name.

She turns to me, and I drop my gaze onto the scuffed toes of my boots, feeling guilty as hell. “Is that okay with you? I’ll have to pop in at your place regularly, then.” Say no, you schmuck. “Yeah, sure.” Griffin Sinclaire fails again.

I miss my place in the mountains. I miss being alone. I miss my privacy. And I just agreed to let Nadia come over to my place daily, rather than pushing her away like I should be doing. You also bought her a fucking horse, sucker.

I groan aloud and Nadia’s eyes snap to mine. “Are you growling?” I shake my head and keep my eyes on the road, hauling the trailer carefully behind us. “That’s very feral-mountain-man of you. I went from thinking you didn’t talk at all to realizing that you mostly speak in grunts and growls.” She crosses her arms across her midsection and leans back in the seat with a pleased smile on her face. “A lesser woman would think you were nuts. Lucky for you, nuts works for me.” God, give me patience to endure Nadia Dalca.

The irony of talking about people who fill the space with unnecessary chatter while she chatters away unnecessarily is not lost on me.

They can bro out without me.

Wet dreams are made of him. He’s the guy your mom tells you to stay away from. Lucky for me, my mom was about as absent as they come. And even if she hadn’t been, I probably wouldn’t listen to anyone who told me to stay away from Griffin Sinclaire.

The man’s cock is even beautiful. A big fucking weapon, and I’m not above admitting that I want him to hurt me with it.

His head flips my direction, startled. But instead of saying anything, he stares at me. Smolders. Glares. I don’t know what it is exactly, but it makes me weak in the knees. It makes me red in the cheeks. It makes me wet in the panties. “I . . . Um . . . Riding lesson tomorrow?” His cheeks are pink with exertion and his cum-covered cock is still in his hand, and that’s what I say? I’m not nearly as smooth as I think I am and just looking at Griffin kills my brain cells on the best of days.

His hands on me are almost more than I can take. “This joint here”—he pushes on the bone—“is stuck. You need to loosen your hips so you can absorb the shock of the movement.” I turn wide eyes on Griffin and waggle my eyebrows in his direction. He scowls. “Nadia.” I hold my hands up to prove my innocence. “Hey, you said it. Not me.” I swear he growls.

That’s what my dreams are made of. Older, growly, protective men.

All his features have softened, and he hugs the dog to his chest protectively. My ovaries ache. I swear they do. This big grumpy recluse, hugging a fluffy ten-pound dog? It’s more than an animal loving gal like me can handle.

“Call me Griffy again, and I’ll spank you like the little brat that you are.”

I want him to stop me. And I hate that I want that. I feel desperate, and I especially hate that.

If he’s the ocean, I just want to ride the waves.

He sucks my nipple in and then lets it go with a loud pop before pulling a couple inches back and staring at my exposed breast like he’s having some sort of religious experience. “So willing. So eager to please.” God. Damn.

“You know what I deserve?” His irises dance across my face. “Someone who needs me badly enough to take me without apology. A man who knows what he wants. A man who wants me.” He nods, pulse jumping in his neck. “And do you know what you deserve?” “What?” “A woman who feels like a goddess when you leave a mark like this on her. A woman who doesn’t want a goddamn thing from you other than to be worshipped any time, any place.” The intense way he’s staring at me almost makes me squirm. “You deserve a woman who drives you crazy every damn day, and nothing less.”

But first, I told Stefan I’d come to his place early to help him with the massive load of hay he just received. Then he’ll come help do some things around my place for a couple of days. Even told him we could do some target practice to prepare for hunting season. A fire, some food, bring the wife—basically camp out for a couple of nights. A fair trade if you ask me.

I didn’t get outdoor date in the Stevan and Mira book, but maybe now?

“Okay. Where do you want me?” On your fucking knees.

“I like all your words, Griffin. It’s what you don’t say that kills me.”

“I thought you looked like you needed to be handled by a real man. By me.” I nip at her ear, loving the feel of her fingers tangling in my hair, like she wants to keep me close. “I thought you looked like you were supposed to be mine.”

“We’re playing the game where I fuck your tight little cunt like I’ve dreamt about since the first time I laid eyes on you. We’re not making love. I’m not being gentle. We’re fucking. And you’re going to take it like the good girl you are.”

“I don’t think I can come again. And that monster between your legs? I don’t think it’s going to fit.”

I’m wondering if the beauty is in the contrast. Nothing makes gold sparkle quite like black. Poetic, you head case.

Horny. So. Fucking. Horny.

“I don’t give a flying fuck who you’ve been with. You could have ridden every dick in the entire city of Vancouver, and I’d still want you. I’m happy to wait for you. Do you know why?” “No,” I grit out. I genuinely cannot fathom why he wouldn’t care about that. A feral smile touches his lips as he glares down at me. “Because my dick is the last one you’re ever going to ride.”

“I’ll give you all my right nows, Nadia. Every fucking last one. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ve been powerless since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

Hot little psycho driver that she is.

I smile. The sun is shining through the slatted blinds, and I have the manliest man of all time holding me. What could be better?

Is there anything hotter than a man who’s a total softie for animals? Because I’m pretty sure there’s not.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that.

“And then you waltzed in and fucked everything up.” I bark out a laugh and scrub my hands over my face. “Yeah. I’m especially talented at that, it would seem. Throwing a football and fucking everything up.” “Also eating pussy.” She cracks a smile, always tossing something in to lighten the mood. Where have you been all my life, Wildflower?