13
Under the onslaught of throbbing country music and the sight of more denim than she’d ever seen in one place, Zoë entered The Scruffy Goose at Ethan’s side, Skip trailing behind them. Spending the short ride into town sharing pleasant chatter with the two, she couldn’t help but notice how Ethan had eyed her legs, exposed almost to the apex of her thighs thanks to the short skirt she wore and her seated position in the cab of his pickup.
As she took in the building’s interior, the long bar that ran almost the entire length of one side of the room, the pool tables, dance floor, and mechanical bull, Ethan’s barely-there touch on the small of her back drew her attention to him. He cocked his head in the direction of a group of tables and chairs and, as they made their way there, his touch firmed. Liking the feel of it, she smiled at him and received a wink in return. His affable mood this evening pleased her, and she hoped it was a sign he was warming up to her and not merely glad to be in town for the evening.
After taking a seat in the chair Ethan pulled out for her, she grinned at Skip who plunked down in the chair beside her, and then looked to Ethan who bent his head to address her.
“What would you like to drink?”
“A beer. Whatever they have on draught is fine.”
“That would be a lot,” he responded, “so narrow it down for me. Domestic, American, import?”
“Stout?”
“Sure, if you actually want it,” he returned, his brow furrowing.
“I do,” she assured him, amused with his reaction. “I like full-flavoured brews.”
With a shrug, he turned away from the table to go to the bar, and she grinned at Skip’s scrunched brow. Leaning a little closer to her, he spoke loudly so she’d hear him over the thrumming music.
“My daddy used to say that stuff would put hair on your chest.”
“I can assure you that isn’t true,” she shot back with a playful arch of her brow.
He chuckled. “Honey, you’re a breath of fresh air and let me tell you, the air’s been pretty stale on the ranch for some time now.” His expression grew serious. “Ethan says it ain’t so, but he needs a good woman in his life.”
“Why Skip, I didn’t figure you for a matchmaker.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Thrown by his statement, she was unsure if Ethan felt the same way and knew there wasn’t much she could do about it if he did.
“He’s the closest thing I have to family and he’s a good man. Hard sometimes, don’t I know it, but he’s got a heart the size of the prairies. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and, shit, it isn’t my place to comment on your intentions, but, well, he’d most likely be game for a fling, if that was where your mind was headed, but what he needs is an actual relationship.”
Cocking her head, unsure of why Skip was telling her this, she wondered if he’d seen something from her that indicated she had an interest in Ethan. She didn’t and, while she had to keep reminding herself of that, she couldn’t possibly pursue anything with him. There would come a time she had to move on and saying goodbye wasn’t something she took lightly. Indeed, it was the reason she didn’t develop close relationships, and why she wouldn’t allow it now. Deciding it prudent to shut Skip down before he tried to push Ethan closer to her, she shook her head.
“I just ended a bad marriage. I love that you’re so protective of Ethan, and want the best for him, but it isn’t me. I’m not looking for a relationship. Not with anyone.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised to hear that,” he returned, “and I understand it, even if I do think you two would be good together.” Then he flashed her a grin. “Can’t blame an old man for trying to see young ones happy.”
“Hardly, and I do think it’s sweet. But surely there must be lots of single women in town that would love to be with Ethan,” she remarked. As her eyes took in Ethan’s return journey, how his large frame moved with ease as he negotiated the tightly spaced tables, she hastily added, “he is quite the catch.”
Her peripheral vision caught Skip’s wide smile, but she couldn’t tear her eyes off the sexy rancher headed back to her. He was all man, from the top of his cowboy hat to the soles of his boots, and every tantalizing centimeter in between. Tonight, he wore a dark blue shirt that was almost a perfect match to his eyes. Unbuttoned at the throat, it allowed a glimpse of the top swell of undoubtedly glorious pecs, and clung to his impressive biceps. Fitted, his close-to-pitch jeans accentuated his muscled thighs. She hadn’t seen the hat he wore before tonight, a black one, and, with the jeans, it delivered an eye-catching contrast. A pair of black dress boots completed his ensemble, one that almost had her drooling.
His return journey was disturbed by an incredibly tall man who approached him, and she welcomed the interruption as it would give her time to compose herself. She touched her lips to ensure she hadn’t actually drooled during her intense visual examination of him. He seemed pleased by the appearance of the tall man and then smiled as a second man joined the conversation. When Ethan lifted his chin in her direction, the two men turned to look. Both dark-haired, she was amazed at how handsome they were. What the heck was in the town’s water? She couldn’t ever recall seeing three handsome men gathered at once. The pair of newcomers—brothers she ventured seeing a resemblance between them—nodded and then the trio made their way to the table.
When they arrived, Skip stood and shook their hands as he smiled broadly. He was undoubtedly acquainted with the pair and as he retook his seat, she looked them over again. Despite the height difference in the pair, she was now convinced they were brothers, having identical mouths and similar eyes. The shorter one, although she still estimated his height at around six feet, appeared nervous to her, but she couldn’t mistake the lecherous look on the tall man’s face.
“Zoë, this is Boone Bukowski. Boone and I go way back. Boone, this is Zoë Pennell, the new cook at the ranch.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she informed Boone as she took his offered hand. His large fingers curled around hers, almost obliterating her hand. He was a massive man.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he cooed.
Now positive he was flirting with her, she pulled her hand away and turned her attention to the shorter man as Ethan introduced him.
“This is Rory, Boone’s brother.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Rory said as he shook her hand. It was a swift, almost businesslike move.
“Likewise,” she responded.
His slight smile faltered as he looked to the side of the room when a raised voice sounded. He seemed squirrelly to her and the complete opposite of Boone’s relaxed posture. The men sat, Rory on her other side with Boone and Ethan across the table from her. She soon learned Ethan and Boone had both served in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and had completed international policing missions together. When Ethan retired from the force, Boone transferred to the service’s Witness Protection Program where he still worked. At her easy nod, Ethan and Boone exchanged a glance and she knew she’d slipped up.
“Wow, most people don’t know that the RCMP does international policing missions or that they run Witness Protection,” Boone remarked.
She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could, her heart rate kicking up at the inquisitive look that adorned both their faces. “I had this silly crush on RCMP officers when I was a teenager. I researched everything I could about them.” Yet another lie, but a reasonable-sounding one.
Boone grinned. “Oh, yet another woman who loves a man in uniform, eh?”
“I think we all do,” she responded, adding an easy smile. Boone seemed to buy her explanation, but Ethan still looked uncertain. She had to be more careful. Another slip-up like that could be disastrous. She’d just managed to quell his discomfort with her, and the last thing she needed was him being wary of her again. Eager to change subjects before Ethan could question her, she turned to Rory.
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m looking for work,” he responded. His eyes dropped to the tabletop and his tone spoke of his unease in relating the information to her.
“Oh, uh, I guess it must be hard to find work in such a small town,” she offered, hoping to smooth over her inadvertent mood-killer.
He nodded. Boone’s expression seemed sad as he stared at Rory who in turn continued to stare at the tabletop. There was more at play than Rory being out of work. The tension at the table was tangible, and she was relieved when Skip broke it.
“Hey, did Ethan tell you there’s a new rancher in town?”
“No, he didn’t,” Boone replied. “Horses or cattle?” He seemed interested in the information and she saw Ethan and Skip exchange a look that told her Boone would be surprised at the answer.
“Alpacas,” Skip answered.
“What the ever-loving fuck?”
Skip and Ethan laughed at the astounded look on Boone’s face. She found the information interesting, but it seemed to have thrown Boone for quite a loop. His forehead deeply wrinkled, his mouth pulled down at the corners, she found his expression adorable. Not that he’d appreciate hearing that, of course. Boone struck her as a man’s man, macho without being misogynistic, and someone she definitely would have normally responded to sexually. His height was intoxicating. She’d put him at six-six, at least. Athletically built and handsome, he was an enticing package. It surprised her that, despite Boone’s potent sex-appeal, her body didn’t respond to him. Ethan, however, was a different story. She swore she could feel a crackling sexuality streaming from him, one that rushed over the table, and then seemed to wrap around her. It had existed even since he’d first touched her as they entered the bar, and she was certain Ethan was as game for a hook-up as she was.
“Yep,” Skip confirmed, “alpacas. I can’t recall the woman’s name right now, but Sawyer overheard her in the feed store. She doesn’t have them yet, she’s still working on getting the ranch ready. Apparently, she asked Theo about ordering pellets for them and, when Theo tried to sell her some grain mixture he’s been trying to unload, she gave him a lengthy lesson on alpaca nutrition. Sawyer said he didn’t have time to listen to it, but he was stuck in line behind her and didn’t want to be rude.”
Boone smiled. “Since when is Sawyer concerned about being rude?”
“Since the new rancher is very attractive,” Skip quipped. He then turned to Zoë. “Sawyer’s a horse breeder. He’s a good man, just short with others occasionally. It’s a problem with too many young people these days. They’re too wrapped up in work to take the time to enjoy themselves.”
He shot Ethan a look that received an eye roll in return. She bit her lip to refrain from laughing aloud at the sight. They almost appeared to share a father/son relationship, with Ethan embodying the mannerisms of a teen too respectful to argue with his father, but still feeling the need to display his displeasure with the man’s words.
Ethan turned to Rory. His expression morphed from pseudo-son to his own version of a father figure. “I haven’t introduced myself to her yet, but I will. She bought the old Williams’ place, you know, the land backing onto my east border. I’ll put in a good word for you when I do see her.”
“Thanks Ethan,” Rory responded.
She couldn’t mistake the look of pity in Boone’s eyes as he clamped a hand on Rory’s forearm and nodded to him. There was something going on that everyone at the table was privy to, except her. Boone’s eyes then swept over everyone.
“Who’s ready for another drink?”
Still nursing her pint, she shook her head, but the others all thanked Boone as he left the table to get another round. Ethan met her eyes and then cocked his head in the direction of the dancefloor.
“Care to dance?”
“I’d love to.”
He stood and extended his hand to her. When she placed hers in it, he curled his fingers protectively over hers and led her to the dancefloor, tapping the brim of his hat to people as they passed by. On the dancefloor, he placed one hand on her hip and held fast to her hand with the other. That electric feeling was stronger now and seemed to penetrate her as they swayed to the music, a slow ballad. After a moment, he sighed.
“Rory’s an ex-convict.”
“Excuse me?”
“You were wondering why he’s out of work, and I know you caught the look between him and Boone.”
“Huh. Well, I guess some people in town must be closed-minded when it comes to Rory.”
“Sure are,” he responded. “You didn’t ask what he went to jail for.”
“I imagine it was serious, if he served time, but that it’s something that you and Boone don’t fault him with.” When his forehead scrunched, she elaborated. “You two are ex-cops, well Boone still is, and I know you wouldn’t associate with someone who was an actual criminal, so I just figured it had to be some act you condoned, at least somewhat.”
“You nailed it,” he said, seemingly impressed with her assessment. “He was convicted of first-degree manslaughter, sentenced to life, but was eligible for parole in seven years, and received it.” He blew out a deep breath. “It really isn’t my place to tell you the story but I don’t want you to hear rumours or half-truths and, if you spend any time in town, you’re bound to hear both. Rory and Boone have a sister Zandra, who you might meet tomorrow as she cleans my house on Saturdays. About ten years ago, Zandra was raped by a man she was dating, Tom Parsons. It happened when Boone and I were away on a mission. She called Rory before she called the police, and he shouldn’t have but he went to Parsons’ apartment to confront him. They fought and it got out of hand. Parsons’ roommate tried to break them up but couldn’t. At one point Parsons pulled a knife on Rory and Rory disarmed him. He didn’t use the knife and the roommate’s testimony prevented Rory from being convicted of murder. However, he still lost control and beat Parsons so viciously he was barely alive when the paramedics got there. Parsons died in the hospital shortly after. I could hardly believe it when I heard it, but that’s what happened.”
The look in his eyes told her he’d suffered right along with the Bukowskis when all that occurred. She could clearly see the love and concern he had for his friends and her heart ached a little for him. He took hold of both her hips and she slid her hands to his shoulders.
“That must have been horrible. Poor Rory. It’s awful that people won’t give him a break. It seems to me that he’s just trying to rebuild his life.”
Ethan nodded but wore an unreadable expression. The song ended and, when a faster one started, he broke their hold on one another to take her hand again. Wordlessly he led her back to the table. Upon arriving, she saw that Rory had changed seats to leave two empty chairs side by side. She held back her smile at his obvious attempt to play wingman to Ethan who held her chair out for her. Then Ethan took his seat, shuffled his chair a little closer to hers, and sipped from his beer.