The Front Runner: A Small Town Fake Dating Romance (Gold Rush Ranch Book 3)

Nice Stefan is tripping me the fuck out. I’ve spent almost every appointment today trying to figure out what to do with my opinion of him.

I stare out the big floor-to-ceiling windows of the clinic as I wait for the x-rays I took to develop. Taking in the rolling hills around Gold Rush Ranch, I mull over the past thirty-six hours. I had Stefan neatly classified into a file where I put people I feel mostly indifferent about. He’d done some shitty things, but I’d also been witness to him being a decent human being. He was morally neutral. One experience sort of cancelling out the other.

Past tense.

Now?

I don’t know. Watching him these last couple of days threw a wrench into all my preconceived notions. Was he a cocky prick? Yes. But was he also charming and sensitive? Also yes.

Should I be mad at him for forcing my hand on the dates? Ugh. Probably. But I’m not. And I don’t really want to analyze why that is. I especially don’t want to think about the possibility that he’s using me to get at my friends.

I thought I’d be worried about leaving the foal there with him, but I’m not at all. He slept beside it, for crying out loud. I watched the way he ran his deft fingers over the colt’s face—the expression of wonder on his own had been like a punch to the chest.

No, I’m not worried about the foal at all. I feel it in my bones that Stefan is going to name him and love him the way he deserves. It had been the look in his eye, the gentleness in his touch. He was nothing if not determined.

For one mindless moment, I wondered how it would feel to have Stefan run his hands over me that way. It was such a bad idea. It would backfire spectacularly, especially with my friends. But it almost made me want it more. Under different circumstances, he’d be a fun one-time thing.

The door swings open, shaking me from my reverie.

“How’s the baby?” Hank grins at me as his broad frame fills the front door, his cheeks and ears red with the bite of the cool air outside, and I marvel at how the barn manager still looks like he has a tan in the middle of winter. I guess years spent in the sun get you a perma-tan. People pay good money to look like that.

I smile at the older man who swooped in to help Vaughn run the farm when an alleged cheating scandal broke. The man who’s been a mainstay in Billie’s life since her teen years, and a close friend of Dermot Harding, the founder of Gold Rush Ranch.

“He’s good. The mare took him right away. It was amazing.”

He stomps his boots on the mat at the door before approaching the front desk. “Well, you know how it goes. Sometimes it takes mere minutes, sometimes hours, and other times not at all. You should give yourself a pat on the back.”

I reach over my back dramatically, patting my shoulder with a big grin on my face. I have to confess, I’m feeling proud of myself for working this out. I don’t even care about the three dates I agreed to go on with Stefan. I can totally handle it. Maybe I’ll get a good meal out of the deal. My stomach growls just thinking about it, and I resolve right here and now to make sure Stefan takes me for a super fancy meal.

He’s gonna pay for this trick, and I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of some delicious food.

“You did good.” Hank beams at me, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he leans over the counter. He’s so sweet. A surrogate father to pretty much everyone at the farm now. It’s probably close to time for him to retire, but I have a feeling Billie will have to drag him kicking and screaming off this property. It’s never going to happen.

“Thanks. How’s Trixie?” He tries to bite back a smile at the mention of the new woman in his life. They met at Cole and Violet’s wedding and hit it off almost instantly. She lives in Vancouver, just ninety minutes down the road, and they take turns visiting each other when their schedules allow it.

It’s freaking adorable.

“She’s wonderful. So different from anyone I’ve ever met or thought I’d be with. She keeps me on my toes.”

I can’t help but laugh because the woman is a character. “I’m so happy for you. On your toes is a good thing!”

“Is it ever.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Never settle, Mira. Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need.”

“You giving me dating advice, Hank?” My lips tip up at the thought.

“Yup. You spend too much time working for a woman your age.”

I flinch. This is a sore spot for me. I’ve known I wanted to be a veterinarian since I was tiny. It was my single-minded focus through school and into university, straight through vet school. Did I miss out on social experiences to get where I am? Yeah, but it was worth it.

Unless you ask my extended family on my dad’s side. They always have something to say about me needing to start a family. They mean well, and I know it’s a cultural thing, but it gets old fast. And while my parents would never say that to me, they don’t correct them either. It’s like none of them completely appreciate how hard I worked to become a doctor of something, that I graduated at the top of my class, that I worked my ass off to do it. At twenty-seven-years old, I’m more educated and more accomplished than anyone else in my family career-wise, and yet none of them seem to want to celebrate my achievement.

Basically, my love life revolves around the purple rubber boyfriend that lives in my nightstand and all the thirst traps I browse on TikTok. I don’t have time for a relationship, even if I wanted one. So, my silicone friend is perfect. He doesn’t need anything from me, and he doesn’t get in my way. I don’t owe him anything except to charge him up now and then. And that’s about the level of commitment I can handle right now.

“Hey, I didn’t mean that in a bad way.” Hank’s brow crinkles in concern.

“Oh, nah.” I wave him off. “It’s all good. Just distracted today. Did you need something? I’m planning to close up shop soon.”

I’m aware I come off a bit cool sometimes. I’d like to say I don’t mean to… but I think I do. I don’t like people meddling in my business. I’m not a spew-my-personal-issues type of girl. I’ve been told I’m intensely private.

I say I’m just independent with clearly defined boundaries.

Hank straightens and I smile at him kindly, trying to show that all is well without having to verbalize it. I’m not big on explaining myself when I don’t think it’s necessary. That’s one thing I like about animals. They judge you by your actions.

“Billie is meeting me here. I’m going to drive her to Stefan’s. Consider me her… bodyguard? Or Dalca’s, considering my job is probably to hold her back from killing him. I’m also her getaway car if she does.”

I huff out a laugh as I shut down the monitor at the front desk. “Billie should hold it together. His willingness to help is what’s going to save her foal.”

One corner of Hank’s mouth quirks up as his eyes scan my face, a little too curiously. “I wouldn’t put it that way to her if I were you.”

I wink at him. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The door swings open right at that moment. “Wouldn’t dream of what?” Billie asks, stomping her boots on the mat and shaking out the thick chestnut braid from under her hood.

“Oh, geez. It’s pouring,” I say, trying to change the direction of the conversation.

“Yeah. Just started.” She looks up with a smile. “We good to go see the baby?”

“Are you?” Hank asks with the quirk of an eyebrow.

Billie grunts and rears back, like she’s offended by the question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I cut in. “I think what Hank is trying to say without actually saying it is: are you prepared to behave civilly?”

Her amber eyes narrow at me. “Yes.”

Hank and I both laugh.

“What? I am. I will be just as civil as Dalca the Dick.” A knowing twist takes over her lips. “And don’t worry, Violet just read me the riot act. She even said he’s not as bad as I think he is.”

She shudders, shoulders shaking dramatically. Hank’s eyes flit over to mine, like he’s a freaking mind reader, and I glance away, grabbing my keys, feeling grateful that neither of them actually is.

When I jump into my vehicle, I take my phone out and open a blank text conversation with Stefan. He only ever calls me, and texting feels more personal somehow. There’s a casual familiarity that comes with texting that I’m not sure is a match for a client and me, but I need to make sure he won’t pull some sort of childish shit once we get there.

MIRA

Hi. We’re on our way. Can you throw me a bone and just stay away for a bit?

He texts me back almost instantly.

STEFAN

Maybe if you beg.

Ha. That’ll be the day.

MIRA

You’d like that, wouldn’t you?

STEFAN

Absolutely.

Perv.

MIRA

Go fuck yourself.

STEFAN

You shouldn’t talk that way. It’s unbecoming.

He’s not wrong. I’ve been spending too much time around Billie. But would it really be so hard for him to be compliant this once?

MIRA

Okay. Please go fuck yourself.

STEFAN

I think I will. 😉

I shake my head, half amused and half agitated. He can’t just give me a straight answer. It’s so typical of him. Between him and Billie, I’m going to have to pray for some superhuman levels of patience these next several months.

We travel to Cascade Acres separately. There isn’t a lot of spare room in my truck with all the equipment I have to haul around. And Hank isn’t wrong. Having a way to get out of there isn’t his worst plan. God, I hope Stefan stays away. He and Billie are like water and oil. Or gasoline and a spark.

When we pull up, I direct them where to go and unpack what I’ll need for tonight’s check-up. I’m working overtime right now, but the Hardings gave me a generous compensation package, including lodging. Sure, the apartment is a far cry from fancy, but it beats living with my parents to afford my student loan payments. They’ve done so much for me that I don’t mind spending a few extra hours here and there, going above and beyond.

When I round the corner into the immaculate barn alleyway, I’m transported to the morning we spent mucking out stalls together in quiet companionship and shared sadness over the lost foal. The truth of it is, I hadn’t planned on doing that. I could have just asked him the favor straight out, but he looked so downtrodden. And I’m a sucker for a wounded animal.

“Mira. You saved him.” Billie’s eyes sparkle as she claps her hands together when I enter the stall. “He already looks so much better!”

Hank’s palm lands on her shoulder, his green eyes glittering with the same grateful emotion as hers.

“Okay, well, let’s not take this overboard,” I say, prepping my tubes for the blood draw.

“No, I’m serious. Thank you. I know it means you have to spend time here with that asshole but… well, I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay you.”

Oof. If she had any idea what it really cost me, I’m not sure I’d be so securely in her good books.

She hugs the foal’s neck, planting a kiss on his little head before turning to the bright chestnut mare with the flaxen mane. “Thank you,” she says, voice cracking as her hand trails over the mare’s delicate face. “You’re the best mama in the world.”

“She’s a special mare, for sure,” I murmur as I shoo them out of my way.

Billie and Hank look at her with so much love my heart squeezes. If everyone could stop making me feel so emotional these last couple days, that would be great.

“Skedaddle you two. You’ve seen he’s fine. There haven’t been any confrontations. Let’s call this a win. I’m going to take blood and wait to collect a fresh fecal sample.”

Billie wraps her arms around me. She’s a hugger, and she has been since that first day I met her when DD had his bout with colic. I am not a hugger—public displays of affection are not my thing—but I let her do it. These are the sacrifices you make for your friends.

“Thank you. I’m so lucky to have you as my friend.” She squeezes me tight enough that it dislodges all my traitorous thoughts. They swirl in my head, increasing my internal shame over my growing tolerance for Stefan Dalca.

On one hand, I don’t owe anyone any explanations about my feelings or choices. On the other hand, even just knowing I agreed to three fake dates with him is making me feel guilty and traitorous.

“I need to get these done and out of the way as quickly as possible.” I pat Billie on the back woodenly, hoping that will signal to her the hug is over.

She pulls away, laughing. “Love you, my Ice Queen.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at her nicknames. Pornstar Patty for Violet, Bossman for Vaughn, Big Bro for Cole… Dalca the Dick for Stefan.

“Love you too, B. Catch ya later, Hank!” I wave casually before turning back to the horses.

I’m relieved when they finally leave—that’s enough attention for one day. The compliments, the hugs, the intense levels of thankfulness… they’re all nice, but I find it overwhelming and never know quite how to react appropriately.

So, while I wait for the foal to give me the sample I need, I pull out my phone to browse social media. I find one of those dumb personality type quizzes and start typing in my answers. Essentially zoning out while I lean up against the frame of the stall door.

“What are you doing?”

A voice startles the hell out of me, and I jump, feeling my back press into a hard chest while two gentle hands slide beneath my elbows to keep me upright. Stefan. I’m too shocked to even move out of the embrace.

One of my hands flattens over my sternum, where I can feel my heart thumping. “You scared the shit out of me,” I pant. It’s after dinner and the barn had been quiet and empty. “What the hell kind of stalking skills are you practicing?” I spin, feeling the chill of the air against every spot that had been warm pressed up against him. It almost makes me want to spin back around and sink into his embrace. Almost. “I didn’t even hear you at all!”

His mossy eyes scan my face, the slight bump in his nose just adding to the intensity of his face. Most people would get a break in their nose fixed, but on Stefan it just adds to his look. His mystery. I hope he never fixes it.

He takes advantage of my shock and swipes my phone out of my hand. “Then you’re definitely not Black Widow. She would know someone was approaching.” He smirks, and it’s both annoying and adorable all at once. “Which Marvel Superhero character are you?” he reads the name of the quiz out loud, and I will my cheeks not to pink. I can take dumb quizzes if I want. “Sounds very scientific.”

I roll my shoulders back. “You do it. I bet you’ll get Thanos.”

His nose wrinkles, and he throws a hand over his chest dramatically like he’s offended. “The big purple bad guy?”

I offer him my sweetest smile and quirk my head to the side, as if to say if the shoe fits.

He just grunts and goes through the quiz.

“You have to answer honestly,” I remind him.

He doesn’t look up at me, but I don’t miss the way his jaw pops at the comment. “I am always honest. I don’t abide lying.”

Well, that joke fell flat.

I step beside him to peer over at my phone right as he submits the survey. The wheel spins as “calculating” flashes across the screen. Like there’s some legitimate process to matching this up.

Tom Hiddleston wearing horns pops up on the screen and I burst out laughing. “Loki!”

He grins now, eyes twinkling with mirth, and hands me my phone back. “I’m going to have to get a hat like that.”

“Oh, yeah. That would be hot.” His head quirks almost instantly, and I try to cover the slip of my tongue. “The God of Mischief,” I say, nodding. “That’s pretty accurate. Maybe their science isn’t so bad after all.”

He peers down at me, looking altogether too confident. It does funny things to my insides. Laughing with this man in a dim barn when I’m not supposed to enjoy his company at all is bad. And did I just accidentally call him hot? I should know better. I should do better.

But I’ve always been one to want things I shouldn’t.

“Speaking of mischief,” he says, eyes scanning my face in a way that heats me to my core. “You owe me three dates.”

I smile back at him, meeting his stare confidently. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that. I think I’m due for a really fancy meal. I mean, I want to give that black Amex of yours a real workout.”

“Charming.” His mouth twists wryly.

I wink. “Cute coming from the guy who conned me into going on dates with him just to prove a point.”

We smile at each other in the dark barn, a battle of wills raging between us.

“And what point am I trying to prove?”

“Oh, come on, Stefan. We both know this is just an obnoxious power play. That you’re trying to prove you have the upper hand. That you have me up against a wall.”

His smirk morphs now into something more feral as he leans in. He moves across me, his head coming to my ear while his opposite hand cups my elbow, holding me close. His proximity, the feel of his breath against the shell of my ear, it all makes the soft hairs on my arms stand on end. I desperately hope he can’t feel it.

“Trust me, Dr. Thorne, if I had you up against a wall, you’d be the meal.”

My breathing stutters and I jerk my arm away from him. I have no clue what to say to that. I have even less of an idea of how to react to his level of confidence. I’m too out of practice. Hell, I’m too inexperienced. So, I just hit him with my best unimpressed, glacial stare.

His responding chuckle is dark and sensuous. It feels like hot wax on bare skin. I want to hate it, but my tongue darts out over my bottom lip.

He turns to leave and only now do I notice he’s wearing gym clothes that hug his body in the most delectable way. I’m too confused to even stop myself from staring at his perfectly round ass as he strolls away looking completely unaffected.

And I’m too speechless to even respond to the parting remark he tosses over his shoulder. “Pick you up at six on Friday.”

God. I’m in so much trouble.