“I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Morgan.”
“Cass. Everyone calls me Cass.”
Her nose flared as if she couldn’t inhale enough of his warm scent. Leather and rain—a fragrance both homey and... Her insides tightened, but she refused to acknowledge the tiny quiver in the pit of her stomach. Well, a bit lower than that if she’d be honest with herself. This guy was sex on a stick, there was no denying it. But why was she being nice to him?
“On second thought, until you can prove you were a friend of my dad’s, you can just call me Miss Morgan.”
He laughed. Audacious and arrogant of him, but the sound reverberated in the barn and even Buddy came over to investigate. He sniffed at the man’s boots, growled a little and hiked his leg.
“Buddy, no! Bad dog!” Her face flamed. Mortified that the dog was about to mark the man, she stammered an apology until Boots cut through her embarrassment.
“That dog has always had a good sense of people.” He stared at Chance unblinking and for a moment, Cass wondered if Boots knew something she didn’t. Her gaze darted between the two men, and tension in the barn ramped up a few degrees.
Buddy sat at her feet but his hackles rose, and she could feel the low growl rumbling in his chest as he leaned against her leg. Her father’s old dog definitely did not like this man and apparently, neither did Boots. So why were her girlie bits going all fangirl on the guy?
“I think it’s time for you to leave, Mr. Chancellor.”
He dipped his chin and made a move to touch the brim of his Stetson. The gesture seemed old-fashioned and almost endearing. Whoa, girl. Rein in that thought!
“Another day then, Miss Morgan, when you aren’t so stressed out or busy. Again, my condolences.” He walked away but paused at the barn door. “We will see each other again, Cassidy Morgan.”
Oh, hell. That dang sure sounded like a promise, but she wasn’t sure just what the man had in mind.
Five
The office door clicked shut behind his secretary, but Chance had already swiveled in his chair to stare out the window. Restless energy roiled in his chest, leaving him unsettled. He wanted to see Cassidy again. And not because he wanted to serve her with legal papers. He wanted to spend time with her. Take her out and show her off.
What was it about this girl that riled him up? She invaded his thoughts, danced in his dreams and generally kept him guessing. He should stay away from her. She was bad news, and the old man would be royally pissed if he caught the barest whiff that Chance held any interest in Cass beyond his father’s desire to crush her.
Screw it. He wanted to hear her voice. He could always say he was scoping out the competition if anyone in the family caught him. No one had to know what he was really thinking. Or feeling.
Chance scrolled through his contact list to the letter M. Not for the first time in the past few days, his finger hovered over the entry for Cassidy Morgan. He wanted to hit that call button so bad but he always stopped himself at the last instant—and not because he worried what the family would say.
What mattered was what Cass would say. How could he explain knowing her cell phone number? He’d called the ranch’s landline once, only to hang up before anyone answered.
He finally gave up, shoved the phone in his jacket pocket and headed for the parking garage. He’d just drive out and see her.