Page 46 of Wistful in Wyoming
Anthony’s gaze shifted to over the other man’s shoulder, where a gunmetal gray BMW convertible was pulling in next to the house. He shouldn’t stare, waiting for Jeremiah’s gorgeous sister to climb out of the $85,000 vehicle, but he couldn’t help himself. His breath hitched when she appeared. Jenna was wearing her auburn hair up in some complicated twist that had him wishing he could remove the clip holding up her silky tresses, so he could run his fingers through them. Mess her up a little and shatter her careful control. He didn't know much about women’s clothes, but in her pretty yellow sundress, she looked like she'd just walked off the cover of a magazine. At least she’d completed the outfit with a pair of new, brown Lucchese boots—she was on a cattle ranch after all—but the damn things had to have cost a pretty penny. The woman obviously had expensive tastes. Too expensive for him.
Damn, he was a glutton for punishment. The woman was so far out of his league and had more or less told him so last night when he’d come across her walking around her childhood home. With her fancy car, designer clothes, gold and diamond jewelry, and highfalutin law degree, she’d never be interested in a man who smelled like cattle every day and had barely graduated from high school. Even knowing she deserved a man in a three piece suit on her arm, it didn’t stop him from wanting her anyway.
Even though she’d grown up on the ranch, Jenna no longer seemed to fit there. She’d moved up in the world, and Anthony didn’t belong on her level. Oh, at first, she’d been polite about turning him down when he’d asked her to go out with him on Saturday for dinner or drinks, saying thank you, and that she wasn’t interested in dating anyone right then. But he’d been able to easily read between the lines.
Then he’d let long subdued feelings out of the locked box where he kept them in the back of his mind. The ones that stemmed from being the poor kid, from the wrong side of the tracks, who’d gotten bullied through all twelve years of school back in Holden, Montana. His former hometown was basically the same size as Antelope Rock, but Anthony had never felt comfortable there. In the Rock, he had friends and people he’d started to consider family. As a kid, he’d longed for kin he could feel close to, instead of being raised by grandparents who’d never showed any open affection toward him or each other. To them, Anthony had been an obligation thrust upon them after their nineteen-year-old daughter had overdosed on meth, three years after giving birth to him. When he’d struck out on his own at the age of eighteen, his grandparents had probably been happy to be done with him. The two of them were long gone now, and he hadn’t even been able to convince himself to go back to Holden for either funeral.
Watching Jenna as she waved at them over her shoulder before going into the house, he’d bet a hundred bucks the greeting had been for Jeremiah alone. Anthony couldn’t help but think that he’d been dead on with his impression of her last night. After she’d turned him down, he’d paused a little, then told her they could go out as friends or neighbors getting to know one another, and she’d snapped at him. “Do you spend so much time with dumb cattle that you can’t hear a no when a woman says one?”
Her snide remark had gotten his hackles up, and his temper had gotten the best of him. He’d snarled back, “Why, yes, Princess, even dumb hicks like myself can understand a no. Excuse the hell out of me for trying to be friendly.”
Jeremiah glanced over his shoulder then back to his foreman with a little smirk. “Problem, Anthony?”
He tore his gaze from the back porch door Jenna had disappeared through and shook his head. Nope, not gonna go there. The last thing he needed to do was pine for a stuck-up bitch who happened to be the boss’s little sister, no matter how much she revved his engine. “Nope, no problem, and there isn’t anything else you need to know about—at least, not that I can think of right now.” He gestured toward the horse barn. “I’ve ... uh ... got work to do.”
“Uh-huh.”
The knowing bastard was all but laughing at him as Anthony spun on his heels and strode toward the barn. Maybe he’d get lucky, and Cricket would kick him in the head and knock some sense into him. Lord knew he needed it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dale turnedoff Jeremiah’s grill and brought the platter loaded with baked potatoes, grilled bell peppers, corn on the cob, and steaks inside to find the handsome cowboy had just finished setting plates, silverware, pilsner glasses, and condiments on the over-sized dining room table. He’d also lit two candlesticks and put them on either side of a vase filled with the bouquet of flowers Dale had given him when he’d arrived earlier. Jeremiah had blushed at the sweet gesture, but Dale knew the man had appreciated it. After all, he’d told Jeremiah he was going to romance him, especially since the cowboy had never experienced someone doing that to him before. With the intimate atmosphere of the dining room, it seemed Jeremiah planned to do some romancing of his own.
Dale glanced at the table, looking for the best place to set down the platter of food. Usually, they ate at the island or bistro set in the kitchen, on the back porch, or in the living room while watching TV. Until now, he hadn’t gotten a good look at the matching set of table and chairs that could comfortably seat eight people. Deep and wide, the dining table was more than large enough for the two of them, and it didn’t take much to envision the surface filled with all manner of dishes for holiday dinners.
“That smells amazing, babe,” Jeremiah said as he poured them each a glass of the homemade beer Dale had brought over. They’d both had a bottle of it earlier, and Jeremiah had proclaimed it was the best batch yet. Dale made a mental note to order the ingredients to brew more of it. Maybe Jeremiah would like to make it with him. They could make a date of it. He’d ask him later.
“Thanks. I hope it tastes good too. You sure Jenna doesn’t want to join us?” As far as he knew, she was upstairs in the spare bedroom she’d moved into for the foreseeable future.
Jeremiah shook his head. “I asked twice, and she said no both times.” He sighed. “She’s got a lot going on in that head of hers right now, so I’ll give her the space she asks for.”
“Okay, just checkin’.” Before he put the platter down, Dale noticed the center of the table was inlaid with the JP brand. The intricate design was breathtaking. A light pine color that contrasted beautifully with the darker stain covering the rest of the surface. “This table is gorgeous. Where’d you get it made?” The craftsmanship that’d gone into the piece was really impressive.
Jeremiah blushed and ducked his head before mumbling, “I, uh ... I made it.”
“Youmade this?” Dale gaped at him before depositing the food near the two place settings and then running his fingers delicately over the inlay. “Jay, this is gorgeous. I knew you’d made Shannon’s cradle and ...ahem ...a few whittling projects.” He winked, loving how Jeremiah’s face colored an even deeper shade of red at the veiled mention of the sex toy he’d made. “But I didn’t know you crafted things this large. I’m dating a freaking artist! A very talented one at that.”
“Stop!” Jeremiah laughed, burying his hands in his face. “It’s just something I did after my parents moved away, while I was waiting on the renovations on the house to be finished. This room needed a big table, and I couldn't find one I liked in the stores, so,” he shrugged, “I made one in my workshop. The chairs too. And there are two leaves that go in here and there.” He pointed to two thin lines that ran the width of the table on either side of the center design. “With those in, it can seat twelve people.” Taking the chair at the head of the table, he sat and grabbed his beer, downing half of it in one go. His face was still crimson as his gaze flitted around the room. Damn, the man was so cute when he was being all shy and self-conscious.
Dale pulled a chair away from the table, examining it closely and noticing how the colors matched the rest of the set perfectly. Above the spindles, the back of each chair had a design of interlocking horseshoes burned into the wood. As he sat, he almost felt guilty for putting his full weight on one because they were so beautiful—true works of art.
“Do you think you could show me your workshop?” He reached over, taking Jeremiah’s hand in his own. “Please? You’re more talented than I realized, and I want to know every part of you.”
Blushing, Jeremiah squeezed his fingers. “Yes, I’ll show you. After dinner though because I’m starving.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Don’t expect too much. It’s mostly a large work shed covered in sawdust and filled with half-finished projects.”
“No doubt it’s as amazing as you are.” Dale winked, then began filling both their plates with the hot food. When he finished, his gaze went to the inlaid design again. “I just can’t get over this table.”
“I could get you over the table,” Jeremiah replied cheekily, cutting into his steak and popping a bite into his mouth.
“You ... Jay.” Dale snorted out a laugh, delighted that Jeremiah was joking about bending him over the table. Pointing at the sexy cowboy with his steak knife, Dale couldn’t stop the silly grin that spread across his face. “You first.”
He loved this playful side of Jeremiah, and he resolved to do what he could to bring it out more often. Jeremiah hadn’t let the events of the day get him down. Two of his hands had been fired after getting laid out in the barn over homophobic slurs, yet here he was, smiling, laughing, and making jokes. Warmth settled into Dale’s belly that had nothing to do with the beer and good food and everything to do with the joy this man brought into his life. The love and peace he’d filled Dale’s days with. Eyeing Jeremiah, he knew right then he never wanted to be without his cowboy again.
Fifteen minutes later, Jeremiah leaned his chair back on two legs, groaning as he patted his stomach. “Holy shit, Dale. You keep cooking like that, and you’ll have to roll me around. I’ll be the size of a house.”
