The Rancher's Second Chance by Victoria James Page B

Melanie in a big afghan.
    He slammed the door shut behind them, not bothering to look at his friend. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what these two were up, to.
    “Oh you poor thing.” Mrs. Harris was cooing as she ushered Melanie over to the sofa in the great room. Cole scowled.
    He looked around the room. Fireplace was boasting a massive fire. Candles lined the mantle and all the side tables. A buffet of God knew what filled every last inch of the coffee table. “Why aren’t the lights on?”
    “The power went out,” Mrs. Harris said, not looking in his direction. “Now enough questions and come and have some of this delicious—”
    “We have a generator.”
    She frowned up at him. He glanced over at Mel whose eyes looked all glassy. She was toasted.
    “That hot chocolate was delicious.”
    Mrs. Harris looked visibly swelled with euphoria. “Would you like some more?”
    Cole tossed his jacket onto the front bench. “No, she wouldn’t.”
    Melanie frowned at him. “You can’t tell me—”
    “I have a feeling if you have one more cup of that concoction, you’ll be passed out in five minutes.”
    Mrs. H grabbed Melanie’s forearm and practically threw her onto the couch. “Enough about that; why not have some beef stew?”
    “With all this beef you people eat, do you actually have any left to sell?”
    Mrs. H clasped her hands together. He had never seen the woman so animated. By the looks of things, she’d dipped into the hot chocolate, too. “Oh we do. Cole is such a hard worker. Quite a mind for business and up at the crack of dawn. But it’s too much for one man.”
    Cole walked over to her. “All right, we’re done here.”
    Mrs. Harris peered around his shoulder. “I hope he wasn’t feeding you that jerky, dear.”
    Melanie nodded. He sank into the couch beside her while his housekeeper-turned-sloshed matchmaker spooned out a heaping bowl of stew and biscuits, handing it to Melanie. Melanie inhaled and his stomach dropped as he studied her.
    “It’s good jerky,” Cole grumbled as he accepted the bowl Mrs. Harris shoved at him.
    Then she stretched her arms in a theatrical display. “Well, I’m just beat. I hope you don’t mind if I run off to bed?”
    Melanie was shaking her head, mouthful of food.
    Cole smiled at Mrs. Harris. “No, no, you go right ahead. I know how tired you must be, especially with all that hot chocolate running through—”
    “Good night!” she yelled, rounding the corner and then disappearing down the hall.
    “Wow, she seems a little off tonight, don’t you think?”
    “Luckily she can drink and cook,” he said, enjoying the stew.
    “I wasn’t aware she was drinking.”
    “That hot chocolate you’ve been guzzling is spiked.”
    Her gasp had him laughing. “You people are far too liberal with your drinking. I’m going to have a total hangover tomorrow.”
    “I think she’s getting a little bored and trying to spice things up around here.”
    “By intoxicating your guests?”
    He shrugged, trying not to laugh. If Melanie only knew what else Mrs. Harris had been up to lately.
    She set down her bowl of stew, her brows knit together. “I hope she’s okay. I mean, she is getting on in years and the other night instead of giving me normal pajamas she gave me lingerie.”
    He couldn’t hold back the laughter now. “That was the best damn move Mrs. Harris has made in years.”
    She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, but he could see that she was holding back a smile. “Really? So you think it’s acceptable she’s dressing your women houseguests in lace?”
    “Hell yes, when you’re the only houseguest we have.” This time, he leaned forward and captured her smile with his lips. Melanie tasted like chocolate and rum and dreams, the kind he had when he believed in forever. But he didn’t want to think about that now or what that meant. He just wanted to feel her. He gently grasped a handful of her silky hair as she molded herself to