Steal My Heart (Prosperity Ranch Book 2) Read online

  But life went on. He was about to graduate in a couple of months with a master’s, then he’d be taking over his grandad’s business.

  Carson squinted against the series of street lamps when a familiar figure came into view up ahead. Well, a familiar dress, to be exact. It wasn’t like he’d forget that blue summer dress in just a few minutes. Or the woman with the long waves of hair.

  Where was she going? And didn’t she have a car?

  Maybe she lived in the dorms that were across campus, which would explain why she was walking. Did that mean she was a freshman? Carson was nearly to his truck when he saw the woman stop, then spin around.

  She set her hands on her hips and said, “Are you following me?”

  Carson halted, stunned. She could only be talking to him. “Um, no. My truck’s right there.”

  Her gaze shifted to the midpoint between them, where, sure enough, his white truck was parked. About ten years old, it had seen better days, but Carson kept it in good shape.

  The woman folded her arms now. “What are you, a cowboy or something?”

  He frowned. Her tone had been full of animosity. “Got something against cowboys, sweetness?”

  She groaned. “You are a cowboy.” She shook her head like she was truly annoyed with him, then turned and began to walk again.

  Carson had no idea what had just happened.

  He continued on to his truck and had unlocked it when he realized she’d stopped again. She was watching him, and he felt her hesitation coming off of her in waves, even though they were standing about twenty feet apart.

  He didn’t know why she’d stopped or why she was currently staring at him, but he felt compelled to ask, “Are you okay?”

  When she said nothing, he continued, “Did Devon . . . hurt you?”

  She exhaled. “No. I mean, I think he was just going to kiss me.”

  Carson knew Devon was after more than a kiss.

  “And that would have really sucked,” she said.

  Well, Carson agreed, but he still had a question. “Why were you with him?”

  Another exhale. “I thought he was cool. And when he asked me out, I was excited, I guess. I didn’t think he’d take me to a raging party, and then, well, you know.”

  Carson did know. And she’d walked a few steps closer to him. He studied her in the lamp light. “You don’t seem his type in the first place. Besides, he can be a jerk, despite his football god status.”

  The woman looked down at the sidewalk. “Thanks for, um, interrupting things. I didn’t realize Devon would take me to his bedroom on our first date.”

  Carson decided this woman was too naïve for her own good.

  “I should go,” she said in a rush. “Thanks again.”

  Carson still hadn’t come up with a response as he watched her hurry away, and she’d disappeared around the next corner before he could ask her if she wanted a ride.

  “You’re back early,” Becca said, curiosity pushing through her voice.

  Nodding, Evie shut and relocked the door, then moved to her closet. She quickly changed into a tank shirt and cut-off sweats, then sank onto her bed. As luck would have it—although this time it seemed to be good luck—her almost first kiss was interrupted by a guy breaking down a door. Evie had been grateful. Devon had been taking things to the next level extremely fast, bypassing all the standard rules of dates one and two.

  Becca looked up from her laptop and lifted her brows. “That fun, huh?”

  “Devon is a womanizing jerk.”

  Becca merely smirked as she refastened the ponytail holding back her red hair. “And you just figured that out?”

  “I think I got starstruck, or something,” Evie said. “I mean, he’s such a good football player and really cute . . .” Her voice trailed off when she saw Becca rolling her eyes.

  “What?” Evie said.

  “Everyone knows he dates a different girl every week,” Becca said. “Be smarter, Evie.”

  The words stung, but she and Becca went way back, so Evie knew they were said out of true friendship. She pulled a pillow against her chest. “I’m planning on it.”

  Becca didn’t miss a thing. “What happened?” she asked, her tone concerned now.

  Evie met her roommate’s gaze. “I . . . I’m not exactly sure. It was all so fast and—”

  Becca was off her bed in an instant. She sat next to Evie. “What did Devon do?”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking.” Evie told Becca all of it. Walking into the party, everyone’s eyes on her, going upstairs to his bedroom, how he almost kissed her, and that friend who practically pushed down the door and allowed her to leave.

  Becca stared at her, wide-eyed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” Evie swallowed. “Just feeling really dumb, especially because . . .” She should tell Becca; she was her best friend, after all. “I’ve never been kissed, and Devon was almost my first.”

  Becca blinked, and Evie fully expected her to laugh, or to shout, “No way!” But neither of those things happened.

  Instead, Becca said, “That really explains a lot.”

  “What do you mean?” Evie asked.

  “You never go out with a guy more than a couple of times,” Becca said. “At least not enough to get to the kissing stage.”

  “Is something wrong with me?” Evie asked, leaning against the wall. “It’s like I’m crazy about a guy, but when he starts liking me, I imagine my brothers giving him the riot act. And I can’t get away fast enough.”

  Becca leaned against the wall, too. “You just haven’t found the right guy yet. You know, a guy you can like beyond a crush.”

  “I’m going to swear off football players.”

  Becca laughed. “You’ll have no one left to date, then. You swore off basketball players when Ryan stood you up, you swore off soccer players because Braden would never pay his share of the food bill, you swore off musicians because Jim smoked, you swore off political science majors because all they do is argue, you swore off cowboys because you don’t want to live in a small town, you swore off accounting majors because they’re too boring—”

  “Okay, okay,” Evie said with a groan. “I get it. There are no guys left for me.”

  Becca tilted her head. “Why are you so determined to find Mr. Right at college? I mean, we’re only twenty-two and have our whole lives ahead of us.”

  Evie closed her eyes, because she didn’t really want to answer the question. It was selfish of her, but this whole night had proved to her that she needed to be smarter, just like Becca had said.

  “My mom wants me to return to Prosper after I graduate,” she finally said, opening her eyes. “Not just for a vacation, but to live and work. She’s already been talking to the owner of the little, tiny Prosper newspaper.” She looked down at the pillow in her lap. “I guess I thought if I was in a serious relationship, I could stay here and get a job. Then move with my fiancé, or husband, or whatever he would be.”

  Becca didn’t move for a moment, then she said, “That seems like a lot of work on your part when you could just tell your mom that you don’t want to move back home.”

  Becca had a point—she always had a point—but . . . “You don’t know my mom.”

  “Um, I do know your mom,” Becca said. “Tell her, Evie. Going out with Devon was the bottom of the barrel, even for you.”

  Evie knew it, but she didn’t want to admit it. “I’m swearing off all guys until I graduate and figure out what I’m going to do with my life. Maybe then, my luck will change.”

  “Your luck is fine,” Becca said, but Evie heard the humor in her voice. “But good for you. It’s about time you made a definitive decision.”

  Evie knew it was easier said than done, and she’d need all the help she could get. So the next morning, she got up the same time as Becca and went to the library with her.

  “You’re really taking your vow seriously?” Becca said as she tossed her banana peel into the trash c
an before entering the library.

  “I am,” Evie said. She probably needed caffeine later.

  They settled at an empty table; in fact, most of the library was empty this time of the morning.

  “Dang,” Becca muttered, gazing at her laptop.

  “What?”

  “Nothing from my medical school application yet.”

  “When are you supposed to know?” Evie asked.

  “Any day now,” Becca said. “Two people in one of my classes already heard back.”

  Evie nodded. “I’m sure you’ll get in. You have, like, perfect grades.”

  Becca leaned her head on her hand as she continued to scroll through something on her laptop.

  Evie opened up her laptop, and instead of starting to work on a research paper, she browsed the website of the main San Antonio newspaper. She wrote down notes about the design and ideas of how to make it more streamlined. Working for a major newspaper would be amazing.

  Growing up in Prosper had been fine, but she didn’t want to live her adult life in a place where the only social thing to do on the weekend was watch cowboys at rodeo practice. There wasn’t even a movie theater in Prosper. One bar called Racoons, and Evie wouldn’t be caught dead in there. Besides, if one of the local boys asked her to dance, one of her brothers would be there to scare him off. With three older brothers, any guy who attempted to ask Evie out in her high school days in Prosper got the third degree.

  Her mind shifted back to the party from the night before. She’d hoped that Devon would have taken her on a real date, but his true character had showed up at that party. She should have refused to go into his bedroom, but it wasn’t like he’d shut the door or anything, until that other guy had showed up.

  She was pretty sure he was a football player, too, even though she hadn’t recognized him. He was opposite in looks from Devon. The mystery guy had dark hair, and nearly black eyes. He was taller and broader than Devon, which was a feat. And he’d never answered her question about being a cowboy, although his beat-up truck was a good indication. But it didn’t matter, because at the top of her list was not dating any cowboy. She was done with small-town living.

  “Oh, wow,” Becca whispered. “That guy is here every morning at the library. If I hadn’t known better, I’d think he was following me.”

  Evie glanced up. And froze. A dark-haired guy sat about three tables away, his profile to them. Even though last night she hadn’t gotten much of a view of the mystery man in the rushed encounter in the football house, then a conversation outside in the dark, she knew this guy was him.

  “Evie?” Becca asked. “Are you okay?”

  Evie exhaled. “That’s him. The guy who threatened Devon.”

  Becca’s brows shot up. “Really? Huh. He looks too old to be a football player.”

  “You think so?” Evie frowned. She did see what Becca was talking about, but maybe it was because of the scruff along his jaw and how his personality seemed kind of intense, more serious, no nonsense.

  And then, at that exact moment, when both roommates were gawking at the mystery man, he looked over at them.

  Evie stifled a gasp and looked down at her laptop, pretending to be absorbed in the screen. She had no idea what Becca was doing, but Evie didn’t want to be caught staring. Yet . . . she could feel his gaze on her. Not that she could prove it. But her face had heated, so maybe that could count as proof?

  “Oh my gosh,” Becca hissed. “He’s coming over here.”

  Evie couldn’t move. She wasn’t sure if she was breathing, either. Maybe he was walking to the drinking fountain? Or looking for a book? Or . . .

  “Hey.”

  Evie had to look up.

  “Hi,” Becca said. “Do we know you?”

  The guy glanced at Becca, but then his gaze refocused on Evie.

  Oh boy. She’d maybe noticed he was good-looking and hunky before, but now . . . in the light of day—or the fluorescents of the library—mystery guy was beautiful. From the slight wave of his dark hair to the depth of his deep brown eyes to the strong cut of his jaw . . . And yep, the stubble along his jaw only heightened the effect. His dark gray T-shirt and well-fitting jeans made no secret that this guy was in top physical shape. And . . . he was wearing cowboy boots. Okay, then. Still, if there was a photo in the dictionary for tall, dark, and handsome, this was it.

  He’s a cowboy. And a football player. No, thank you. Besides, I made a vow.

  “Oh, I know you,” Becca blurted in a perfectly normal, cheery tone.

  Evie was impressed.

  “You’re Carson Hunt.”

  The mystery guy’s eyes narrowed just a fraction. Barely noticeable, except to Evie, because she was apparently staring at him.

  “I didn’t know you transferred here,” Becca continued. “Are you a senior or something?”

  “I’m done playing ball,” he said. “I’m doing my master’s here.”

  “Oh wow,” Becca said. “Nice. What’s your master’s in?”

  His gaze had returned to Evie. “Business. Standard MBA.”

  Evie opened her mouth. Should she say something? Thank him again for his help last night? Nope. No words were coming. She closed her mouth.

  “That’s great,” Becca continued. “Didn’t want to keep playing and go pro?”

  Those dark eyes narrowed a fraction again. “No. Sports was just a way to pay for school.”

  Evie should stop staring at him and noticing things like the scrapes on his knuckles—was that from last night? And the way his jaw had flexed at Becca’s questions. And how his voice was a step above gravel.

  She gazed at her laptop screen, seeing nothing, comprehending none of the words.

  “You okay this morning?” he asked.

  Becca didn’t answer, confirming that Carson Hunt was asking Evie if she was okay. Slowly, she lifted her gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  His nod was slight, but his gaze didn’t move from hers, not even when Becca started asking questions again.

  “Where you from?” Becca said. “It’s been a while since I’ve read your profile.”

  “I grew up mostly in Dallas,” he said. “Where are you from?” Finally, he was looking at Becca, giving Evie a breather.

  “Why, I’m from here,” Becca said. “Evie and I were assigned to be freshman roommates, and we’ve stuck together ever since.”

  “Evie, huh?” he rumbled.

  “Yep, and I’m Becca,” she said cheerfully. “Nice to meet you, Carson.”

  He nodded, but then he was looking at Evie again.

  She should really say something more than “I’m fine,” but Becca seemed to be handling the entire conversation.

  “And where are you from, Evie?”

  “Uh, I’m, um . . .”

  Becca laughed.

  She wasn’t helping, at all.

  “A small town south of here,” Evie said. “Probably never heard of it.”

  Carson folded his arms, drawing Evie’s attention to his sculpted arms. Had she already mentioned his dictionary-defined physique?

  “She’s from Prosper,” Becca said. “A teeny, tiny town, but it’s famous for the best rodeo for miles.”

  Carson’s forehead creased. “Is that right? Prosper?”

  “Her daddy’s the mayor,” Becca continued. “And her brother’s a rodeo star. Rides pro for . . .”

  Evie was no longer listening to Becca, because something had shifted in Carson’s gaze. Something she couldn’t define. It was as if he was . . . amused. The broody, intense look was gone, replaced by a quirk of his mouth. Was something funny?

  “Rex Prosper is your dad?” Carson asked.

  Wait. What? “Yeah,” she managed to say.

  Carson slowly shook his head. “That’s a coincidence. Looks like we’re gonna be neighbors, sweetness.”

  Of all the women to walk into the library . . . Sure, Carson had seen the redhead there a few times. But when he looked over at the table with two women, he almost coul
dn’t believe what he was seeing. What were the chances of running into the same woman from the football party?

  He’d recognized her immediately, even though her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was wearing a white T-shirt and not her blue dress. In the lights of the library, he saw that her eyes were a lighter blue than he’d thought, and she had a few faint freckles on her cheeks.

  Carson was having trouble looking away from Evie’s open blue gaze and answering Becca’s questions. Maybe he should just hand over his resume to her, for all the questions she was asking. He wanted to keep studying Evie, and figure out why he was so intrigued. Yeah, he’d helped her last night, but that wasn’t it. He couldn’t understand why she’d be with a guy like Devon.

  And what were the chances that she was from Prosper, the very place where his granddaddy had bought the rodeo grounds? A couple of years ago, Grandad had become an investor, but when the Prosper family hit some financial trouble last fall, he bought the rest of the shares. Now he owned it, along with the homestead property adjacent, ironically enough, to Prosperity Ranch.

  Oh, Carson had heard all about the town and the ranches. He just hadn’t gone to visit yet. Which was changing this weekend with the start of spring break. He’d promised his grandad that he’d check out the new holdings, and decide once and for all if he was willing to take the helm of Hunt and Sons. Grandad had started the company back in the sixties when a big oil company came in and bought all his land. It was an offer no one could refuse. So Grandad made it his mission to invest in small-town rodeos. He was a generous investor and gave plenty of advice on renovations. Now, Grandad wanted to put down roots and retire. And he’d chosen Prosper to do it.

  But with Carson’s brother’s death, there were no “sons” in the Hunt and Sons scenario. Carson’s dad had taken off years ago when Carson was thirteen. Grandad had raised him ever since. So yeah, Carson owed the old man a lot. Everything, really. But true to Grandad’s classiness, he was letting Carson make the decision, one hundred percent pressure free. At least in theory.