Page 45 of Dairy and Deadly

“Not true.” He turned his back on her. It had been true for months. It had even been true an hour ago, but it was no longer true. There was something about her brittleness that tugged at his heart. Though she put on a good show for others, his gut said she was close to shattering. The occasional flashes of pain in her eyes were proof of it. So were the faint scars he’d glimpsed near her right temple earlier when the dyed blond tendrils had been blown back by the mid-morning breeze.

“All you’ve ever done is glare at me when I visit Johnny’s farm.” The miffed edge to her voice made something shift inside his chest. Did she honestly care that he hadn’t fallen all over himself in the hopes of receiving some of her hallowed attention?

“My bad,” he retorted airily. “In my defense, I was busy working.”

“You know what I mean,” she snapped near his elbow. “Your disdain for me has always been…palpable.”

“What’s it to you, sweetheart?” He swung in her direction, genuinely curious why she was so worked up about it. “I’m just a broken down cowboy.” He hadn’t meant to call her sweetheart. It had just slipped out.

Her momentary confusion told him she hadn’t missed the accidental endearment, either. However, she quickly recovered her usual hauteur.

She hugged her arms tighter around herself as she gave his bum leg a cursory glance. “Like you don’t use that whole wounded rodeo champ thing to your advantage with the ladies.”

It took him an extra second or two to register the fact that Caro Highfalutin Madison didn’t find his limp off-putting. The discovery completely floored him.

Something in his expression made her face flood with color. “Forget it,” she mumbled, turning away from him.

He stared after her, stunned. “What if I don’t want to?”

“You and Johnny have had your fun at my expense,” she returned coldly. “Just finish loading the truck already.”

“You think that’s what this is?” He stalked after her, cornering her by the kitchen cabinet.

“What else would it be?” Her voice grew weary. “You think a girl doesn’t know when she’s been traded off? Johnny put you up to this, didn’t he?” There was a suspicious tremor in her voice. “Someone else caught his interest, and he needed a wingman to dispose of the inconvenient third wheel.”

“Johnny had nothing to do with my offer to help you today.” It had been entirely his idea. Yes, the thought had crossed his mind that he might be providing a much-needed buffer between her and Johnny, but he no longer believed that was necessary. The only reason he was currently standing in her kitchen was because he wanted to be there.

She glanced away from him. “You expect me to believe you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

He snorted. “You say that like it’s not even a possibility.”

She drew a sharp breath and met his gaze again. “That isn’t what I said!” The pain was back in full force, turning her irises to molten brown.

Every protective instinct in him went on red alert. “Who hurt you?” he demanded harshly. Without thinking, he reached out to brush the hair back from the scars at her temple.

“Nobody!” Fierce indignation curdled in her tone as she shrank back from him. “What kind of question is that?”

“The question of someone who cares.” Granted, his feelings in her direction were new. Very new. Like developing-on-the-spot kind of new, but they were there, and they were real.

“You’re not my type, Clint.” Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, hiding the pain he’d glimpsed.

“I could be.” In a burst of inspiration, he joked, “Believe it or not, I smell better after I shower.”

The edges of her lush lips twitched, making his heart shudder with giddy excitement. Then her mouth flatlined again. “You’re way too nice for the likes of me. You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”

Clint suddenly wished he’d dated more, because maybe he’d understand women better. “And if I don’t?”

Her eyelashes rose, revealing a swirl of pure torment in her gaze. “Then you’re cruising for heartbreak.” She shook her head sadly at him. “In case you missed it, half the town thinks Johnny and I are an item.”

“I didn’t miss it.” Jealousy curdled in his veins.

“Who’s to say I won’t use you to get back at him?” She unfolded her arms. “Don’t you see where I’m going with this?”

“Not really, but I’m trying.” Attraction and awareness were zinging between them thicker than the creamy milk they produced at Johnny’s Dairy. And unless he was losing his mind, he’d bet his boots she was feeling it, too.

“Maybe this will help.” One second, she was looking close to weeping. The next second, she was stepping up to him and sliding her arms around his neck. Then her lips touched his.

Clint had been accused of a lot of things in his life — like being thickheaded and slow. A lot of folks just assumed that daredevils like him didn’t have much gray matter between their ears, but they were wrong.

---