Read The Rancher's Second Chance for Free Online Page B

some choice words. “All right then. Melanie you’ll be staying for lunch when you return. I can’t have our dear, wonderful friend starve,” she said with a pat on her shoulder.
    “No chance of that, Mrs. Harris,” Melanie said with a laugh.
    Mrs. Harris leaned closer and caressed her cheek. Melanie tried to keep smiling, despite the odd show of affection. “Melanie, you’re just lovely. Just perfect, my dear,” she whispered.
    Cole cleared his throat loudly and Mrs. Harris startled, taking a step back. She smiled, eyes darting back and forth between them. “Well, best be getting on out there before it snows. Cole, you take care of our dear girl.”
    Cole was muttering something and looking down at his feet as he held open the door. Melanie shot Mrs. Harris a quick smile before walking outside.
    They stepped out onto the porch and immediately Melanie buttoned her top button. Freezing cold was putting it mildly. The air was heavy with dampness that would for sure seep into her bones within minutes.
    “Melanie, it’s way too cold out here for a walk, and I swear that skyline is looking like heavy snow is coming.”
    He was right. Completely. But there was no way she could get on a horse and she couldn’t tell him that. She just had to pretend to be an overly stubborn, high-maintenance, control freak. “It is cold, but I’m not riding up there,” she said looking him firmly in the eye. Her eyes went to his smooth jaw, watching as it clenched and unclenched.
    “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. I’ll meet you at the barn,” he said dismissing her and walking down the steps. Melanie’s heart began to hammer. She couldn’t go on a horse. She quickly picked up her bags and followed him down the steps in the direction of the barn.
    “Cole!” she yelled, stopping, placing her bags on the ground and her hands on her hips. She used her most forceful voice and tried to scowl like he did. He slowed his pace, stood motionless for a moment, and then slowly turned around to look at her. He walked toward her, one powerful leg in front of the other and stopped close enough that she had to lean back to look into his eyes.
    She cleared her throat. “I’m not riding a horse.” She looked him square in the eye. Then she narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to look more sinister.
    He closed his eyes briefly. “We have no choice. We’ll never get up to the chapel, especially in those boots you’re wearing,” he said with a scowl at her favorite boots.
    She lifted her foot, angling it from side to side as she looked at her boots. “There is nothing wrong with these boots. They are riding boots.”
    He pointed to her feet. “Those are not riding boots.”
    “Well, they are. I mean, they’re specifically designed to go with skinny jeans and they are called riding—”
    “I don’t have time to stand here discussing fashion with you.”
    “I agree. Let’s start walking. I can make it up to that chapel in no time. I’m in great shape. Or maybe you’re just afraid you won’t be able to keep up with me,” she said with a nod, folding her arms across her chest.
    “Gimme your hand,” he said flatly. She looked at his large, gloved hand which was stretched out between them. Obviously it was not a romantic gesture, so her accelerated heartbeat was absurd.
    Melanie’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
    “You’re getting on a horse.”
    She stamped her foot on the hard ground. “No.”
    “Yes. The trails start out easy through the pasture, but then it’s steep once we get close to the mountains. This won’t even compare to incline nine on your treadmill, sweetheart.”
    Sweetheart. He shouldn’t be allowed to casually drawl out endearments. All of them should be stricken from his vocabulary. Luckily, the condescending assumption preceding said endearment lessened its impact. Incline nine on the treadmill. Incline nine would mean she could actually afford a gym membership. Of course he assumed she had one, because