Page 33 of Hitched (Steele Ranch 4)

Yeah, that was all she needed to say.

* * *

SARAH

* * *

“Hi there, can I help you find a—” My words dropped as fast as my smile when I saw who had come in the building.

  King had left and I’d taken a minute to tidy up in the tiny private bathroom off the back room. But it hadn’t been someone from Barlow looking for a book to read, but Karl, my half-brother. He’d never read a book in his life, at least not one without pictures.

“Sarah, you’re looking…flushed.”

His beady eyes raked over me. In the bathroom, I’d ensured my hair was neat, my shirt straight, my skirt down. But I couldn’t do anything about the color of my cheeks or the well-satisfied look in my eye. Well, that look was gone with him here, but the flush remained.

“What are you doing here? I thought Montana was too cold for you.”

I turned on my heel, went behind the circulation desk. We looked alike, our hair the same almost-black, our eyes equally dark. Unfortunately, we looked like siblings. Unfortunately, we also looked like our mother. But that was where the similarities ended between us.

Karl was an asshole. Instead of bringing his lunch to school as a kid, he’d stolen a different lunch every day. He’d been in California for high school when I’d gone off to college—my child support money from Aiden Steele ending—and he’d told me he’d only dated rich girls in his class, mooching off of them for rides and food in trade for sex.

I shivered at the thought.

I’d seen him a number of times over the years, too many really, but rarely in Barlow.

He sauntered over to the desk in his three hundred dollar jeans and expensive puffy coat, played with the pencils beside the scrap paper. I wanted to yank them from his manicured fingers, but I’d learned long ago not to show any frustration with him. To not show any emotion at all because he’d feed off it. Just like with our mother.

“I’m in Montana because it’s a quiet time at work,” he replied.

I arched a brow. “You had a job?”

He shrugged, although it was barely noticeable beneath his jacket. “Mother wanted me to join her,” he replied.

“You mean your latest girlfriend dumped you.”

His eyes narrowed in quick anger, but he smiled. Darkly. “She changed the PIN number on her ATM card.”

Meaning, he was broke.

“And Mother? Why would she come here? I thought she had a thing for some yacht salesman.”

He pushed off the counter, went to the seating area and dropped into one of the worn leather chairs. His feet went up onto the coffee table in the middle, melted snow dripping from his shoes onto the wood. Fortunately, it missed the selection of magazines in the center. Grabbing a small towel I used for dusting that was beneath the counter, I stood, rounded it and went over to him. Tossing the towel onto his chest, I crossed my arms, tapped my toe. Waited.

We had a staring contest for all of thirty seconds. I was not cleaning up after him. Finally, he sat up, dropped his feet to the floor and wiped up his mess.

“She had a plan for his son. For you.”

At his words, I subtly put my right hand over my left in front of me to hide my rings. I wasn’t talking about King and Wilder with Karl.

He glanced around the library’s one big room. “He’s better for you than this dump.”

“So she’s what, come here to drag me to California?” I was so frustrated I needed another orgasm—and to be tied down and dominated—to relax and forget. “Where is she, anyway?”

He tossed the towel back at me. I caught it easily as he stood. “Meeting an old friend.”

She had friends here? I couldn’t imagine who that would be. I was just thankful the people in Barlow still liked me after all her shenanigans she’d walked away from. Divorced men. Empty bank accounts. Catty behavior.

No, she wasn’t meeting a friend. She wouldn’t have come to the middle-of-nowhere Montana to visit a long-lost friend. She never came here to visit me.