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

I’m sitting at the kitchen island staring off into space, trying to pull all the thoughts running through my head together. Trying to pull myself together.

I wanted to go for another round. I wanted Mira upstairs, spread out on my bed, begging for more. I wanted my skin on hers and her moans in my ear. I wanted to live between her thighs.

Unfortunately, she had other plans. Something with Hank, their farm manager over at Gold Rush Ranch. So, I let her go, as bad as I wanted to beg her to stay. Her independence is one of my favorite things about her. She’s not clingy or obsessed, despite how she might feel right now. She’s just excited, and I am, too. This thing between us feels new—like it’s going somewhere. I don’t have to worry about cramming our time together in because we have all the time in the world.

I have a feeling about her.

A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, and I lean my elbows onto the counter before me. Getting lost in the dark lines weaving across the marbled stone countertop, I replay our conversation. The one that took place almost immediately after I’d bent her over my desk and claimed her the way she needed.

Tugging her pants up over her deliciously round ass she asked me quietly if we were exclusive now. Vulnerability written all over her beautiful body.

I pulled her into my arms and assured her. Absolutely.

Are we dating? What do you call this?

I laughed. She scowled.

I don’t give a fuck what you call it so long as you’re mine.

That’s what I’d told her. And I’d meant it. Because it was all so obvious to me.

Sitting here now, it hits me that I’m putting it all on the line for her. Pushing past all my fears about caring too much for another person. Trying to let go of my deep-rooted fear of betrayal. Ignoring the fact that the people I’ve loved the most in life have been ripped away from me. Acknowledging I have a terrible track record for protecting those very people.

But the look she gave me when I told her she was mine was worth the risk.

Over and over again. Worth it.

Because she looked at me like I was her prize as much as she is mine.

I feel like it’s too soon to be in love. I feel childish even entertaining the thought. But maybe that’s just it; maybe a child knows what they’re feeling and freely admits it. They don’t have years of baggage telling them to ignore what they already know to be true.

With a shake of my head, I pivot and opt to distract myself by showering the other woman in my life with some attention.

“Nadia!” I call up the stairs.

She came home shortly after Mira left, and I momentarily scolded myself for fucking her so publicly. Sometimes, it’s hard to remember I’m living with another person. Nadia leads her own life. She is loving working at the clinic and doing her schoolwork in whatever free time she has left. In fact, I’d go so far as to say she’s happier than I’ve seen her, well, ever.

I know she’s out with boys. Possibly even many boys. But as her older brother who doesn’t have a super close and personal relationship with her, I’m never sure what to say about that. I just hope she’s being safe. I hope she’s making good decisions. Because whether she recognizes it or not, she’s a fucking catch. And I suppose that’s one area I can find solace. The women at Gold Rush Ranch are an excellent influence—they don’t take any shit. And that’s the exact type of women Nadia needs in her life.

Strong women.

Something she hasn’t had, and something I can’t do for her no matter how badly I’d like to.

“Yeah?” She jogs down the stairs, looking like a spitting image of our mother.

I’m always glad she didn’t take after him. I don’t really look like either of them, and my chest aches from the questions swirling in my head about who I do look like.

“Wanna grab a bite?”

Her brow furrows. “Why? What’s wrong?”

I bark out a loud laugh. “Nothing. I just want to hang out with my little sister. Is that a crime?”

She smiles back, looking amused. “Let me change real quick. I’ll be right back.”

Twenty minutes later, we walk through the grungy front door of Neighbor’s Pub. Nadia’s pick, not mine. Apparently, this is where the ‘coolest’ people in town hang out. I eye the place suspiciously and wonder if we have wildly different definitions of cool. The place smells like stale beer, deep fried chicken, and butter. The smell of popcorn wafts off the self-serve popcorn machine in the corner. The thought of shoving my hand in there to take a bowl full of cold popcorn that everyone else has touched holds zero appeal.

Nadia looks completely at home, and I realize this is probably where she’s spent several of her nights lately. Even though she doesn’t drink.

I can see a bit of the place’s charm. Locals stooped over pints of frothy golden beer line the bar, and “Hotel California” blares through the speakers, mixing with the clacking sound of someone breaking a set of pool balls. It belongs in a movie. I guess I’ve never felt welcome enough in Ruby Creek to make my way in here. I constantly feel like the outsider and haven’t gone out of my way to change that.

“Isn’t this place great? So Canadian.” Nadia smiles wide as she slides onto a stool at a high top beside a pool table. “Any chance you want to play?”

I marvel at my little sister, no longer the sullen young woman who stepped off a plane. She’s strong, so fucking strong. My chest pinches at the thought of how she had to pull herself up by the bootstraps. About how I left her hanging to serve my own ends.

I hope she can forgive me one day.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to.” I shake my head and smile back, trying to clear the guilt of walking down memory lane.

“Great. I’ll be right back. Drink?”

“Yeah, I’ll have…”

“Don’t say wine, Stef. I know you’re a wine guy, but this isn’t a wine place.” She grins at me, ribbing me. Not treating me like the bore of an older brother I sometimes feel like with the age gap between us. This is what I want with her.

“How about a Cosmopolitan?”

“Dear God,” she huffs. “You are such a priss.”

A deep laugh rumbles in my chest. “I’m joking. I’ll take a beer.”

“Are you though?” She quirks a brow at me before strutting away, laughing.

I watch her walk up to the bar, cringing at the way heads turn as she passes. I could take off a few heads for looking at my baby sister the way they are right now, but I haven’t held that kind of role in her life, and it would be weird to start now. So, I won’t.

Instead, I glance away, scanning the rest of the bar. Taking it all in, until my eyes snag on an ass I’d recognize anywhere. An ass cupped by the denim I pulled down mere hours ago.

Mira is digging through that godforsaken popcorn machine with a scoop in one hand and a basket in the other.

I’ll be happy to take care of her when she inevitably gets sick after this. That’s how much I like this girl. I’m looking forward to holding her hair back while she hurls.

I find myself peering around the bar, wondering why the hell she’s here when she said she had a meeting with Hank. She wouldn’t be here with someone else, would she? After everything we’ve done together? Everything we’ve shared?

I can’t imagine it, but it doesn’t stop my gut from churning and my heart rate from ratcheting up. If Mira wasn’t with me, what kind of guy would she be with? My eyes scan the bar, hoping upon hope that she wouldn’t lie to me.

There’s a lot I can tolerate. But lying isn’t it. After my life, it’s a hard line for me. Anxiety creeps up over my sternum as I let my paranoia run away with me. Something feels off. I just can’t pinpoint what.

But then I find Hank sitting alone at a cozy two-person table, beside a roaring fireplace in the back. My body relaxes as I watch Mira smile in his direction and head back that way.

She’s almost at the table when she’s intercepted by Nadia. Her body tenses. I see her lips moving, asking who Nadia is here with, as she looks around nervously.

Something is definitely off.

Nadia greets Hank, and he smiles back with a quick wink. And then when Nadia points at me, Mira’s eyes shoot in my direction. She smiles, but it’s tentative. She waves, but it’s small.

Not one to back down from an awkward situation, I stand and walk across the room, approaching the small table and watching Mira’s eyes go more round with every step I take in her direction.

She has never looked at me like that. I feel like I’m watching my own life play out before me.

“Stefan. Hi.” She pushes the loose strands from her ponytail behind her ears as she takes a seat. Across from Hank.

“Sir.” I reach toward the man and offer my open hand.

He grins, looking between Mira and me as he shakes my hand.

“Oh, please. No need to call me sir, son. We owe you a big thank you for taking on our little guy the way you have. Mira tells me you’ve named him Loki?”

The apples of Mira’s cheeks pop up as she looks away shyly. Sounds like someone has been talking about me.

“Yeah. The name fits him well. He’s a mischief maker. You’re going to have your hands full with this one.”

Hank shakes his head. “Not me. Billie. I’m too old for projects like that. She can play bucking bronco on her own.” He grins. “Loki. The God of Mischief. I like it. The funny part is . . . I think Billie will, too.”

We all chuckle, and then Mira says, “Hank and I have something of a standing date here on Tuesday nights. You know… as the two unattached people at the ranch.” I don’t know why she’s acting so nervous. Like I’d be mad about her going out for dinner with a man old enough to be her father. “I’ve missed a couple times, so here I am. Making it up to him.”

“You brought him to this dive to make it up to him?”

Mira’s cheeks pink as she lifts her pint of beer to take a long swig.

My brow furrows as I take her in. Something passes between us, and I get the sense she wants me to leave. But before I can go, Hank pipes up.

“Aw, nah. I love this place. Did Mira tell you I used to bartend here?”

Mira freezes, pint glass held high as her eyes bore into mine over the rim. All the sounds around us blur to white noise as I drag my eyes off of the woman I thought I trusted to take in the man sitting across from her.

His features hit me rapid fire. Like bugs against a windshield. Eyes. Splat. Hair. Splat. Square jaw. Splat.

My breathing becomes labored. It feels like someone has doused me in scalding hot water. Intense feelings of betrayal course through my veins. My layers of composure slough away. I turn back to Mira, her pint glass now placed back on the table and her eyes giving me a sad pleading look as she nervously wipes at her lips.

She knew. She knew.

And she didn’t tell me.

Never mentioned it.

The utter shock of it all lances through me. Hot and painful and nauseating. I need to leave. I need to compose myself before I say or do something I’ll regret.

Hank’s head quirks, his matching emerald eyes so full of questions. “You alright, son? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Son. The word fills my mind and blankets my vision. After all this time, he’s been sitting right under my nose. And the woman I thought I might be falling in love with fucking knew.

I’ve experienced betrayal in my life, more than most people have. But this is different. Only people who had already let me down in some way have ever betrayed me.

Mira bowled me over by being perfect for me, and I didn’t even have the sense to see it coming.

“I’m fine.” My voice is brittle. “Enjoy your dinner.” I spin on a heel and march toward the heavy front door of the dingy pub.

I need fresh air. I need distance. I need time to process. I can’t do that with Mira’s doe eyes pleading with me.

And I sure as fuck can’t do that while I stare into eyes that are a perfect mirror image of my own.

Pushing into the cool night air, I keep my strides even and controlled until I get to my SUV. I round the front of it toward the grass ditch and heave. It’s been hours since I’ve eaten, so nothing comes. Just silent nausea and the choked sounds that accompany it.

When the episode passes, I’m still bent over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath—trying to cool my head.

“Stefan?”

Her voice is quiet, pained. Uncertain.

“I don’t want to talk right now.” And I don’t. At this current juncture, I have nothing to say to Dr. Mira Thorne.

Her steps don’t falter as she approaches. “Let me explain.” Her voice cracks.

I turn on her, eyes blazing. Heart throbbing. “Explain what, Mira? How, after everything I’ve divulged to you, you can’t so much as mention this to me?”

“I—”

I cut her off, words coming out hard as I stand up tall. “I trusted you. I told you things I’ve never told anyone.”

“I had a plan. I was going to tell you.”

“How long?”

She blanches, her face going deathly white under the light of the moon, almost blue beneath the dark sky.

“How long did you know?”

“Listen.” She holds her hands up in a gesture that tells me she wants me to slow down. But I can’t do that right now. My head is spinning. I’ve spent years languishing over this secret, and she’s had the power to put me out of my misery for… how long?

“Did you know before we got involved?”

“Define involved.”

That’s my answer. Rage churns in my gut, and I quirk an eyebrow at her, scoffing as I do.

“Everything between us has happened so fast. Just let me explain before you cut me off again.”

“So now this is my fault? No, Mira. This was a simple conversation you could have had with me. It doesn’t matter now.”

Her face stays stoic while silent tears trickle down her cheeks. “What does that mean?”

“It means… I… fuck!” I shout as I run both my hands through my hair. This is not how this was supposed to go between us. “I’m not sure I can be with someone this dishonest. In fact, I’m almost positive I can’t.”

A hollow gasp erupts from her lips as she slams a hand over her mouth. “Stefan, just—”

I wave a hand to stop her. “Nah. No, thanks. I’ve already got one woman I loved who lied to me up on a pedestal. I don’t have room for another. It’s no wonder you wanted to keep us a secret.” I shake my head and walk around to my driver’s side door. “I mean, really, Mira? Do you ever do anything that doesn’t benefit you in some way?” The noise she makes in response is deep and guttural. “Tell Nadia I had to go.”

I don’t let my eyes anywhere near her as I get in and pull away. I can’t. Because as angry as I am with her, I know one look at her face will kill my resolve to protect myself.

I watch the outline of her body shrink into the dark as I drive away and realize protecting myself is something I’ve already failed to do, considering I just admitted I’m in love with her.