Page 12 of Mister Cowboy
He couldn’t help but smile. Tina was thorough. Maybe too thorough in this case. “I don’t care how you do it, in what order, or anything else. My only requirements are that you get this place ready for me to sell. Take a couple of days and get a feel for the place. Judging by the look on your face this morning, I’m assuming you aren’t usually asked to clear out an entire house.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“A bit.” He set the papers down and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
She hesitated at his invitation, but with a look of reluctance, she did as he asked. The sight of his large hand engulfing her small fingers sent a warmth coursing through his body. Her cheeks pinked. She stood quickly and then released her hold. Her body language was cold, but she was not indifferent. She felt it, too. Whateveritwas.
“Brecken, I didn’t know you were coming back today.” Tina appeared in the doorway and looked between them with a curious stare.
He moved his hand protectively to January’s lower back and ushered her out of the office, dismissing Tina with a nod and a curt response. “I’ll see that Miss Lyle gets home. I need to discuss a few things with her regarding the job.”
Tina’s smile was stiff, but she responded politely. “Of course.” She turned to look directly at January. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
What the hellwas I doing?
A fair question, and one he had asked himself at least a dozen times since Friday night. Most of his actions in the past three days he could rationalize. She needed a job; he had an opportunity. He needed to sell the ranch; she could help. But as the wine goblets wavered in his hands, threatening to spill, Brecken knew there was really only one explanation. He liked January.
“Here we go.” The wine splashed over the edge of the glass, and he cursed. “Shit, sorry.”
She smiled at him, and this time it was one of her real ones, unmarred by stress or caution. She had at least three different kinds that he’d witnessed. A polite, closed-lip smile. A friendly one, lips slightly parted smile. And a full-on smile that would make any man drop to his knees. That one showed her pearly white teeth and made her brown eyes sparkle with a myriad of colors. Fuck. Sparkle? Yeah. He liked her.
“I didn’t expect to see you drinking wine ever again.” Her eyes closed as she took a sip of wine, and a little hum of appreciation escaped her lips. The sound shot straight to every muscle in his body, aching to hear it again.
“I never said I didn’t like wine. I likegoodwine.”
“It certainly is a step up from the swill I typically drink.”
The wind whipped through the wrap-around porch like a wind tunnel. The fire pit behind them was lit, but it did little to compete with the gusty, bitter wind. After reaching for a blanket in a basket next to his chair, he held the material out to her in a silent offering. She accepted it with a smile and unfolded it, covering her legs with the patchwork quilt. A lump formed in his throat at the image of her sitting on the front porch with his mother’s quilt draped over her lap, just as his mother had done a million times. If things were different, he might have brought a girl to this house and sat together with his parents, talking about everyday nothings and looking out over the land. But things weren’t different. Everyone he’d cared about then was gone.
“Tina liked you. She says you’re sharp.”
“She did? I’m not so sure she’s right. Today was a lot to take in.”
“Well, you handled it well. Would you like a tour around the grounds?” he asked, even though the last thing he wanted to do was traipse around the barn in his suit. He’d do about anything to ease her mind. Apparently, even ruin a perfectly good suit. There was no way he was letting her quit on her first day. Or the second. Shit, he was already wondering how long he could stretch this project out.
She checked her watch and hesitated before speaking, “Actually, I need to get home. I have to be at work in a few hours.”
“Work? I thought you were between projects?”
“I am, or I was. I also help Michael out at the bar a few nights a week.”
An awkward silence hung between them as he tried to find the right words. Having never been the jealous type, he stewed while picturing her serving drinks to drunk assholes. What was the appropriate way to respond without sounding like a jerk?
“Well, now that you have this job, maybe Michael can find someone else to help out.”
Her face tensed at his statement, but she didn’t speak. Without another word, she stood and folded the quilt. Shit, had he insulted her? She seemed so well put together, but her comment last week about a trip to the emergency room being expensive and the fact she was working two jobs meant she must need the money.
As she climbed into the old beater truck, he wished he’d risked bringing the Maserati down the dusty, gravel road. He was so off his game, it would have been easier if he had a familiar setting for the drive.
It wasn’t until they were on the freeway that he decided to try to backpedal out of the awkward silence he’d brought between them. Each mile marker they passed was making him more anxious that she was going to get out of the truck and disappear from his life forever.
“I’m sorry for this morning.”
“Yeah, what was that?”
He let out a low chuckle. Of course she wasn’t going to let him off so easily.
