Amy Vastine - The Rancher's Fake Fiancée

“So that leaves you and Chance,” Ethan chimed in. “We both know Chance doesn’t care what happens to this place. He sure isn’t going to help run it—”

“But I might?” Tyler interrupted. “Have you lost your mind? I didn’t want to come here in the first place. I’m definitely not going to stay and help you run it. Sorry, man. I don’t know what you thought was going to happen, but I am set on selling.”

“Seriously, Ty. I saw your face when you walked into the old house,” Ethan said.

“That’s all you’ve got?” Ben asked. “Everyone looks sick when they walk in there. Zoe ruined it.”

“It was more than Zoe’s bad taste.”

Hadley knew Ethan was right. She had seen it, too. Tyler had been devastated by what had been done to the house.

“That house means something to all of us,” Ethan continued. “It’s where Mom and Dad tucked us in. Where—”

Tyler put his hand up. “Stop. I don’t need a walk down memory lane. I don’t want to talk about Mom and Dad. I don’t want to rehash the things that happened in that house. I want to help you sell this ranch and go back to Portland. Where I live. Where I work.”

“Where your fiancée lives and works,” Ben added.

Hadley had no place in this discussion. Stuck in the middle of a very private family matter was not where she wanted to be. Tyler’s brothers might have thought she influenced whether Tyler stayed, but the truth was she had no say in what was happening here.

“I’m sorry, Hadley,” Ethan said. “I know what I’m asking impacts you, too. You two have a life together in Portland, but I’m asking you to consider another possibility.”

“It’s never happening,” Tyler said through gritted teeth. “Drop it.”

“Okay...” Ben jumped in. “Ethan and I are going to let you two get settled. We’ll see you at Jon’s for dinner. We can talk about the marketing plans when all of us are in the same room.” Ben guided Ethan toward the door.

Hadley could see the frustration coming off Tyler like steam. His chest rose and fell like he’d been out for a run. She’d seen him upset before at work but not like this. This wasn’t simply anger. This was pain.

“I’m sorry,” she started.

“Go unpack, Hadley,” he snapped.

She didn’t argue. She turned on her heel and headed back to the bedroom. He was the boss. This was a job. They weren’t a real couple. They never would be.

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