Jason Williams was a jerk.
Ashley Barnes leaned against the hood of her car glaring at the locked gates to the sprawling Blue Sage ranch and repeated the words like a mantra. Jerk. Jerk. Jerk.
He was a narcissistic egomaniac who thought the entire world had nothing better to do but impinge on his personal space. Of course he would have locked gates. He wasn’t about to give mere mortals easy access to him.
Too darn bad. She had to talk to him today. If repeated phone calls, letters and emails weren’t going to do the trick, she would just have to bust down these gates until the man agreed to talk to her.
She sighed. Well, okay, that probably wasn’t the most brilliant idea she had ever come up with. As much as she adored her lime green VW bug, she was afraid it didn’t have the necessary gumption to break through a couple of eight–foot–high iron gates.
Failure was not an option, though. She and the jerk in question had been heading for this shoot–out for three weeks. Whether he knew it or not — or whether he even cared — she had given Jason Williams an ultimatum in her mind. His time for avoiding her had just run out.
She eyed the gates, all eight menacing feet of them. She hadn’t grown up on a horse ranch with four older brothers without learning a thing or two about hurdling fences, shinnying up trees and swinging out of barn lofts on old, fraying ropes. Climbing the man’s gate wouldn’t exactly be easy, but he wasn’t giving her a lot to work with here.
She sighed, grateful at least that she was wearing jeans. She had to jump three times before she could reach the crossbar on the fence. From there, it was easy enough to hoist herself up. She perched along the top bar for just a moment — only long enough to catch a terrifying glimpse of a horse and rider heading toward her at a neck–or–nothing pace.
Rats. It was too far to jump unless she wanted to risk a broken ankle, so she had to slither down like one of her kindergarten children on the monkey bars. She hit the ground and turned around just as a gorgeous Arabian raced up in a swirling cloud of dust.
Ashley caught a quick glimpse of the horse’s rider and her pulse rate kicked up a notch. Her mouth suddenly felt as dry as a Cold Creek tributary after a three–year drought. It was the jerk himself. She couldn’t mistake those chiseled features and that strong jaw for anyone else.
She had a quick mental picture of him in Dirt Road Anthem with his million dollar smile She loved that video. She loved all his videos.
Too bad they were all Nashville make–believe.
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Starstruck
RomantikJason Willimas is a jerk! Sure, Ashley Barnes may have had his picture in her locker back when he was a Hollywood heartthrob. But now that the former idol’s daughter is causing trouble in the classroom — and Jason doesn’t seem to care one bit — kind...
