The Front Runner: A Small Town Fake Dating Romance (Gold Rush Ranch Book 3)

I’m watching Hank trot Brite Lite in a straight line away from me, but I’m thinking about Stefan.

I’m supposed to be watching the pretty gray mare to see where I think the hitch in her step is coming from, and instead I’m replaying the feel of his hand when he wrapped it around my thigh. It’s driving me to distraction.

He’s driving me to distraction.

Exactly what I’ve always promised myself I wouldn’t let a man do. Let alone a man like Stefan. It’s complicated. His entire persona is sketched in blurry lines, and I’m worried I’m getting lost in that fuzz. When I took Billie to see Loki today, I found myself constantly looking around, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him.

I have a savior complex. You don’t become a veterinarian or medical professional without that facet to your personality. And everything he’s shared over the last several days about his mom, his dad, his upbringing… it’s got a stranglehold on my savior complex.

He really is like an injured rat. He grosses everyone out. And I’m drawn in. I want to swoop in and bandage up his broken parts. Watch them heal.

Seeing animals, and people, heal is my catnip. It’s what fills my cup. I’ve seen it with my friends over the last couple of years, and it never fails to make me smile.

I shouldn’t want to fill my cup with Stefan.

But I do.

And now I feel like I’m drowning in a man who is only dragging me along in his game to one-up my best friend. I’m a pawn. And I’m smart enough to know better.

“So? What do you think?” Hank huffs over the sound of aluminum horseshoes clopping on the paved driveway out front.

Busted. And I’m making the old man work for it, no less, while I daydream about enemy number one.

“Just catch your breath. And then one more loop around the driveway. I think it might be up in her stifle.” I was watching—sort of—but I still feel like a total asshole. “Take you for a drink after?”

Trixie is in the city working right now, so Hank is lonely sometimes. I can tell by the way he hangs around. By the way he pops into the clinic just to chat.

He flashes me one of his big grins, followed by a wink of a twinkly green eye. He has a distinct Robert Redford vibe going on that, if I were older, I would certainly appreciate. He’s one of the good ones. That’s for sure.

“I’m gonna need a cold one after this workout, Dr. Thorne.” He turns the mare around to trot away again. But not before tossing out a casual, “Try not to daydream this time!”

So busted.

I offer to drive into Ruby Creek’s favorite watering hole, Neighbor’s Pub. And we even manage to get my favorite table at the back near the fireplace. Spring is here in the valley, but it’s damp and cool today. The weather just seems to swing back and forth this time of year, between a warm taste of summer and then a cold jolt of winter. Today is that, and I’m happy to be seated next to the crackling fire with a beer on the way.

Usually, I’m here with Billie and Violet, and sometimes they even bring Vaughn and Cole. Both of whom I like. A lot. But I feel distinctly out of place as the single friend that gets dragged along on those nights, so it’s nice to hit happy hour with just Hank.

Hank folds himself into the seat across from me and looks around with a bemused smile on his face. “Love this place,” he murmurs.

“Me too,” I agree, picking up the plastic menu to figure out what I want, right as the waitress hustles over with our pints.

This pub is the quintessential small town meeting spot. Stained glass shades over the lamps, mismatched captain’s chairs at every dark-stained table, and old-school burgundy carpets on the floor. There’s even a jukebox in the corner.

“You eating, too?” he asks.

“I think I might,” I reply. “Cooking every night for just one person is kind of soul-sucking.” I blurt it out without even considering that Hank has been doing exactly that for probably his entire life. “Sorry,” I add on with a twist of my lips.

“Don’t be. It’s true. I’d be lying if I said I don’t spend every week looking forward to Sunday night dinners with all you kids. A date at my favorite pub with Dr. Thorne isn’t so bad either.”

I laugh. “Maybe we should make it a regular thing. A special club for the only two people not totally shacked up on the ranch.”

The waitress swings by and takes our orders. A burger for each of us.

“No men in your life?” he inquires gently.

I take a sip of the fizzy golden lager and smack my lips together. “Nope.” I sound very sure when I say it, but inside I’m in turmoil. My arrangement with Stefan may not be real, but I don’t like feeling like I’m lying to Hank either. “Too busy with work.”

“I know how that goes.” He sips his beer and nods his head. “Happy I’ve got Trixie in the picture now, though. She’s the best surprise in my life lately. You’ll get one eventually, too.”

I grunt. “I’m not really a big fan of surprises to be honest. I like a nicely laid out plan. A clear path.”

The older man chuckles kindly, like I’ve just said something desperately naive. “Oh, Mira. All the best things in my life have come as an absolute surprise. Didn’t expect an eighteen-year-old girl to show up on my doorstep demanding I give her a job, but I’m glad I did. Billie is the daughter I never got to have. Didn’t expect my best friend to scandalize the racing world and then die of a heart attack. But here I am, helping his grandsons run his farm.” He shakes his head thoughtfully. “I mean, shit, I didn’t even expect to have the job I do now. I used to bartend here, did you know that?”

I smile and rear back a tad. “I didn’t. But I can totally picture it. I bet you were a real lady-killer in Ruby Creek.”

A shadow of the past flits across his eyes, but he chuckles all the same.

“If Cole and Vaughn’s grandfather, Dermot, hadn’t waltzed in here on a wild goose chase after a girl, I’d have never met him. I’d have never started working for him and Ada. I’d have never been out East to meet Billie. And I’d have never met Trixie at Cole’s wedding in Chestnut Springs.” Hank takes a swig of his beer. “Sometimes unexpected surprises change the course of our life in the most irrevocable of ways. In the best ways. Life is one big adventure, Mira, don’t let it pass you by while you’re stuck on a boring old path.”

I laugh, but it rings hollow. What he’s just said hits a little too close to home. He didn’t tell me I belong barefoot in the kitchen with a baby on my hip. He just told me to be open to new possibilities. I think he just told me to take my blinders off. But my blinders keep me safe and focused and achieving all the goals I set for myself as a younger woman.

“Thank you for sharing your wisdom, Hank,” I say right as the server swings by with our burgers. “You want a good surprise?”

He nods and his lips tip up when he winks at me. “Always.”

“I hired Stefan Dalca’s younger sister to work in the clinic.”

His eyes go wide, and his beer goes down the wrong tube. He coughs and pounds a fist against his chest. I feel bad for making him choke, so I keep talking, trying to fill the lull. “Her name is Nadia. She’s had a tough go. But I think you’ll really like her. She reminds me of Billie. Well, younger Billie.”

“Lord have mercy on us all,” he coughs out with a laugh. And I join him too. “Listen, Mira, if you like her, I’m sure the rest of us will as well. You’re a good judge of character.”

God. Am I though?

We dig into our meal and conversations about different horses on the ranch flow easily. But I’d be lying if I said my thoughts weren’t constantly veering off the path. Heading in a direction that I desperately don’t want them to go.

“Don’t be such a baby.”

Stefan has his arms wrapped around Loki’s neck and is looking down at the foal like he’s a stuffed animal, not a future athlete and animal that needs space to frolic and run.

“Are you serious right now?” I prod him. “I thought you were a big, tough man, but you’re too chicken to let this little guy romp around outside?”

“Mira. I’m not a big, tough man. I’m just a dick. Remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I wave my hand at him dismissively. Stefan is a lot of things, but the more I get to know him, the less I think a dick is one of them. “Let’s go. Outside. Fresh air is good for everyone.” I slip the leather halter onto Farrah’s head and buckle it near her ear. She looks excited. Ready to get out of the barn.

“What if he hurts himself?”

“Can’t live life that way, Stefan. Bad things happen all the time. Buck up. Let’s go.”

With a firm cluck, I walk Farrah out into the barn alleyway and head toward the big, wide-open sliding door. Today was beautiful and sunny and dry. And now, under the quiet charm of the evening, it’s the perfect time to let them take their maiden voyage outside with no tractors, no staff milling about, just calm and privacy for this colt and the mare who’s taken him under her wing.

Within a few moments, I hear the clopping of Loki’s hooves against the concrete and the scuff of Stefan’s boots. I smile to myself. The big bad wolf has certainly developed quite the soft spot for Loki.

Out under the setting sun, we head toward the paddock that’s already waiting and open. It’s a big grass field on the opposite side of the lake from the willow tree where Stefan and I buried the other foal a few weeks ago. I pull Farrah’s halter off, and she’s through the gate. Loki follows her, like the sweet little colt that he is.

Until Stefan lets him go.

Beneath the pink and orange sky, the sweet little colt blows a gasket. He’s got his head down between his knees and is trying to buck. Mile-long legs fly out all over the place while Farrah takes off for a leisurely trot down the fence line. Loki goes with her but doesn’t stop his antics. I shut the gate quickly and lean against the fence, chuckling.

Stefan steps up beside me and presses his elbows against the railing. “He looks like Elaine doing that godawful dance on Seinfeld.”

I straight up cackle. That is exactly what he looks like. “He looks happy,” I reply.

Stefan nods. “He does.”

“You’ve done a great job with him, Stefan.” I want him to understand what a huge difference he’s made for this small horse. That even if everyone sees him one way, I see that they’re all wrong. It feels like something he should know. This man is still clearly so broken up about his mother and trying so hard for the only family he has left.

His eyes flit to the side. “This is all you. I probably just made your job harder.”

“Oh, you mean by using me as a pawn in your pointless war with my friends?” I joke.

Now his head turns to me. Slowly, but sharply. Like a predator that’s heard his prey fumbling through the forest. “Pawn?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t play stupid, Stefan. It’s not cute. Making them keep Loki here rather than at Gold Rush Ranch. The three dates. I’m sure you’re just desperately hoping Billie finds out about those so you can sow discord between us. I know it’s all part of your plot to cut them down at the knees.”

He unfolds his fingers slowly as he regards me. Turning his body to face me. And mine follows like the opposite end of a magnet, matching his movement so we stand facing each other under the golden glow of the evening sky. “You think that you’re the pawn in my game?”

I scoff and roll my eyes in response. How dumb does he think I am?

He moves swiftly now, surely. One hand shoots out and slides between my coat and thin shirt. He palms my ribs there as he presses me back against the fence. We’re supposed to be watching the horses. But suddenly, all we’re watching is each other. My hands come up to push him away, but as soon as I feel the hard lines of his pecs beneath his shirt, my resolve withers.

“I’m going to tell you something, Mira.” I can feel the rumble of his voice through my palms. I can’t take my eyes off the sight of my hands on his chest. I’m not supposed to be touching Stefan Dalca, but my body must have missed the memo. Because my nipples rasp against my bra, and with each breath I draw, an ache coils just behind my hip bones.

“And I want you to listen very carefully.” With his free hand, Stefan reaches up and drags the pad of his pointer finger over my collar bone.

My breath turns to stone in my lungs. I’m too shocked to move. And too far gone to stop him. He’s standing so close I can smell his laundry detergent and the hint of pine that must be in his cologne.

“Because you are very confused.”

He starts at the center of my chest, his eyes following his finger, watching goosebumps fan out across my skin in his wake. When his finger gets close to my shoulder and the neckline of my shirt, he slips it just inside. Just under the strap of my bra. And with one flick, that strap is pushed right off my shoulder. His grip pulses on my ribs and he steps even closer, forcing me to look up and hold his gaze.

A quiet gasp escapes me when I catch sight of the expression on his face. What I see there is primal. He’s not just looking at me appreciatively… he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me.

I’m positive no man has ever looked at me like this before.

A sinful smile touches his mouth as he leans in close. His free hand cups the back of my skull so his thumb can brush across the sensitive part of my neck, almost at my throat.

His whisper is warm and silky. “Do I have your attention now?”

I swallow and nod, feeling chills break out over my skin. There is not a single part of my mind or body that is not entirely focused on the man who has pushed me up against the fence.

“Good. Because I want to make myself abundantly clear.” We’re so close. I can feel the entire length of his body covering mine. He teases me with the lightest brush of his lips against my ear as he drops his voice and holds me captive. “You are not the pawn, Mira. You are the prize.”

I reel, and I feel the burn of his lips against my skin as he presses a featherlight kiss to the spot his thumb had been rubbing. My pulse hammers, and I swear all I can hear is my blood rushing through my veins. The air crackles between us. No man has ever spoken to me like this.

I should put a stop to our interaction. And yet, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. My body comes to life for him in a way it shouldn’t.

He steps away, and I feel alarmingly bereft, like I want to yank him back toward me. Like I want more. I’m the biggest traitor I know because I want him to continue. I want him to whisper more forbidden secrets against my body.

His tongue darts out over his bottom lip, followed by his teeth, in a very intentional way as his eyes peruse my body. His gaze lands on the hand I now have slung over my chest in an attempt to slow my racing heart. The other one grips the fence post behind me, possibly the only thing that’s keeping me upright at this moment.

“And I love to win,” he finishes with a stupidly sexy smirk, then turns around and walks away.

Leaving me with the perfect view of his firm ass and a jumbled mess of confused feelings.