Flawless (Chestnut Springs #1) (8)

I’ve spent years gazing out the windows of my dad’s 30th floor windows, wishing I was out there. Imagining spending my summers exploring the mountains and the rustic small towns that lay between them, but being trapped inside his glossy office instead. Or, if I think even further back, stuck inside a pale green room without enough energy to get out of bed.

Is this work assignment ridiculous to the point where I had a hard time keeping a straight face through that meeting?

Absolutely.

But I’m going to make the most of it. If nothing else, I’ll get to stare at the mountains with the wind in my face rather than the smell of burned coffee and those stale croissants that Martha sets out every morning. Or a room that reeks of antiseptic and antibacterial laundry soap. The kind that’s supposed to be scent-free, but when you spend enough time wrapped up in it, you realize it’s really not.

The long driveway stretches ahead of me until it disappears into a copse of closely planted, but leafless poplar trees. The outline of a large house peeks from between their branches.

I pull through, taking in the impressive home before me. Thick logs provide the frame for a house that is curved in a slight crescent shape, wrapping into trees and flowing with the lines of the hills behind it somehow. It’s expansive with massive windows. The bottom retaining wall of the house is covered in a stone facade that swaps into some sort of vinyl siding in a soft sage color. It contrasts perfectly against the warm stained timber and cedar shake roof.

The houses where I grew up were almost at war with the landscape. Fighting it with their sharp corners and harsh tones. This house—big as it is—almost looks like it sprouted up from the ground. Like it’s just part of the scenery, in perfect harmony.

It looks like it belongs here.

Unlike me.

I glance down at my outfit as I step out of my parked car. A black sweater-material skirt, silky tartan button-down, and a pair of brown heeled loafers with a pretty brogue toe are probably a ridiculous choice for the setting.

Even though this outfit slays.

I’ve grown so accustomed to getting dressed up every day, and I take so much pleasure in choosing pieces that make me feel more confident, that I didn’t even consider how hilarious I might look pulling up wearing what I’m wearing.

But actually, I know nothing about what I’m supposed to be doing. When Rhett scribbled his address on the piece of paper, he pressed the pen so hard that it indented the pages beneath.

And then he stormed out without another word.

A smile teased my dad’s lips as we all sat staring at Rhett Eaton’s broad shoulders and long hair. But definitely not his ass.

I’m a professional, after all.

“Off to a good start,” my dad joked once Rhett was out of earshot.

So, that was the extent of my instructions. An address. That and, “Fix this, Summer. I believe in you.”

Oh, and, “Don’t let that fucker charm his way into your bed.”

I smiled and said, “What about his bed?”

“You’ll be the death of me, girl,” he groaned as he waltzed out of the boardroom, looking like the Cheshire Cat.

And that was that. Full trust that throwing me into the life of my childhood crush will be just fine. Though he probably doesn’t even remember that.

I know that this is a test. Trial by fire. If I can knock this assignment out of the park, I’ll impress my father, but I’ll also prove I’m capable to everyone else at the company. Something he and I both know I need to do if I plan to move up the ranks at Hamilton Elite. If hiring me isn’t going to seem like pure nepotism, then I need to be fantastic at what I do.

It’s not an easy assignment, but nothing in my life has been easy, so maybe it doesn’t seem as daunting as it should.

“You the babysitter?”

My head whips around to the front porch of the sprawling house, following the deep gravelly voice. An older man with silver hair leans against the big log pillar with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk plastered on his face. A well-worn black cowboy hat sits atop his head, and it tips down in greeting as he swallows a chuckle.

“Been a while since I welcomed a babysitter up to the house for any of my boys.”

I laugh out a breath and let my shoulders drop, immediately at ease around the man. Rhett may look at me like I’m a bug on his windshield, but this man is just plain charming.

I grin at him as I press my fists into my hips. “Been a while since I babysat someone.”

“I reckon you’d have an easier time with even the most poorly behaved child,” he says as he strides toward me.

I take a wild stab at who this man might be. “I suppose threatening to tell his dad isn’t going to help me any, huh?”

The man smiles back, weathered skin crinkling around his eyes, and shoots his hand out in my direction. “That hellion has never given a shit what I have to say.” He winks, and I take his palm in a firm handshake. “Harvey Eaton, Rhett’s father. Pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Wishing Well Ranch.”

“Summer Hamilton. Nice to meet you too. Wasn’t sure what to expect when I pulled up. I’m not sure Rhett and I got off on the best foot yesterday,” I confess.

Harvey waves me aside when I press the button to open my back hatch and reaches past me to retrieve my suitcase. “Well, I’ve got a room made up for you here in the main house. You can expect Rhett to sulk like a little boy who’s gotten his favorite toy taken away. And when his brothers find out, I expect him to be downright foul because they are going to harass him something fierce.”