WELL, HELL. HE had anticipated how much he’d want her if she showed up in a little pencil skirt, the kind he wanted to shove up her hips so he could step between her thighs. He had expected her hair to be in a prim little bun. Had expected that he would want to take it down and run his fingers through it. He always did.
What he hadn’t expected was for her to be wearing jeans. Jeans that molded to her long, slender legs and showcased her figure in a new, tantalizing way, that the styling of her skirts didn’t.
Neither was better than the other. Not really. But it was a new look at her body, and his own body reacted favorably to that.
The damned pervert.
She still looked prim in her way. She was wearing a button-up shirt, and all those tiny little buttons made his fingers itch to undo them. But she had on a pair of tennis shoes, and that made him smile.
He got out of his truck, his boots hitting the gravel in the drive, the rocks crunching beneath his feet. And she was standing there, her arms crossed, her blue eyes sharp and assessing.
She was trying to get a read on him. Trying to figure out what he might do, so she could figure out what she should do.
If there was one thing he’d figured out about her—besides the fact that her ass had the most delicious curve to it—it was that she liked to be in control.
Too damned bad for her. Because so did he.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” she said, affecting an impatient tone.
He damn near shook his head.
He had expected better from her. She had gone and shown her hand. She was already eager to get this over with. And he didn’t have anywhere else in the world to be. Which meant he was gonna take his sweet-ass time.
He closed the door to the pickup truck slowly, then made his way around the back to the small horse trailer that was hitched up there. “It’ll take a couple of hours to do the whole trail,” he commented.
“I know,” she said. “When Sabrina and Jamie worked out the route, they discussed that.”
He nodded. Also slowly. “Right.”
Only a man who’d made a study of Lindy Parker would have any idea how agitated she was. But, he was a man who’d made a study of her.
The way her blue eyes flashed when she was angry. The way she pursed her lips together and pressed her mouth into a flat line to keep from displaying any emotion she hadn’t damn well chosen to display.
The particular set of her shoulders, the way she squared her hips. Like she was ready to face an opponent in battle.
He saw all those things contained in her still form and placid expression.
Because he was a fool.
A fool who was really enjoying drawing all this out.
He undid the latch on the horse trailer, then slid it open. He climbed up inside and encouraged the two horses they were taking out on the ride—Emmy Lou and Trixie—out into the lot.
All the while very aware of the fact that Lindy was standing there, stiff-necked and anxious. Her very noncasual mood at stunning odds with the outfit she’d chosen to wear today.
No. She was not more relaxed than usual at all. But then, he wondered if that was him, more than it was anything else.
Unless it was Grant.
Annoyance kicked him in the gut.
He didn’t believe that she wanted to date Grant. But, clearly she wanted him to think that she did.
Mostly, he was confident in the fact that she did not. Mostly, he was confident in the fact that the kind of heat and fire he’d felt when their skin had made contact last night could not be one-sided.
He wasn’t sure if that was a victory or defeat, but he was certain of it nonetheless.
“Grant says hi,” he mentioned offhandedly, getting the tack out of the horse trailer and beginning the process of readying the animals.
“Does he?” she asked, keeping her tone as smooth and placid as the expression on her face.
She was a beautiful, accomplished little liar, that woman.
“Yes,” he said. “I told him that you...expressed some interest last night.”
“Did you?” There was a small break in her composure. A slight twitch to her brow, a little hitch in her breath.
If she wanted to lie, then two could play that game.
“Yes. He was very interested.”
“Well. That’s...good. Very good. Because, I also am very interested.”
He stood there for a moment, the lead rope to the horse in his hands, his eyes fixed on hers. And he watched as the color mounted in her cheeks. Pink. Tempting. He wanted to kiss those blush-stained cheeks. Hell, he wanted to kiss her everywhere.
He had a feeling that that was written on his face as clearly as the blush was written across hers. “You are shameless, Lindy Parker,” he said, bending down and tightening the girth on the horse’s saddle. Gratified when he could feel her eyes moving over his body as he worked.
“I am not,” she snapped.
He straightened and turned to look at her. “My brother is a grieving man. And you would use him to get at me?”
Lindy’s mouth dropped open, then closed, like a fish. “I am not trying to...get you.”
“I mean to irritate me.”
She sniffed. “Well. If you didn’t think that I wanted to go out with him why did you tell him I did?”
“I didn’t,” he said. And then he winked, because he knew it would enrage her. “But, this was a fun little play we just acted out.”
She treated him to a very teenage facial expression and he couldn’t help but smile, imagining how she might have been when she was younger. Less polished. Less careful. “You’re such an ass.”
She reached into the small purse she was carrying and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, jamming them over her eyes.
As if that would protect her.
He could read her every emotion on that pale skin. He wondered if she knew that. He wondered if anyone had ever told her that anger made her flush a certain shade of rose, that desire made her flush creep down her neck, intensifying the color.
He knew.
He knew, because he had been watching her for the past five years.
There was no way on earth that didn’t sound creepy as hell, but it was the truth.
“Sure. I never said I wasn’t.” He kept staring her down, even while he got the second saddle on the other horse, while he bent down to tighten the girth. “And you started it. You were the one who asked me about Grant.”
“I have a feeling you think there’s something going on here,” she said, her shoulders going even stiffer. “But there isn’t. I wanted to make that clear.”
“All you had to do was say it,” Wyatt said, except, that was a lie too. Because he knew, whatever she said, that she felt this thing that existed between them.
“Okay. There’s nothing happening here,” she said, waving a well-manicured hand, her eyes still shielded by the large, dark glasses.
“All right,” he said. “Saddle up, cowgirl,” he said, gesturing to Trixie, the more placid of the mares.
“All right,” she said, snippy. She placed her foot in the stirrup and hauled herself up on the back of the horse. She wasn’t an experienced horsewoman, not as far as he could see, but she’d definitely been on the back of one before.
With ease, he put himself in the saddle, and maneuvered himself so that he was in the lead position. “How long has it been since you’ve ridden?”
“Oh,” she said, sounding slightly thrown at the change of topic. “I don’t know. Not since I was in high school probably? So...a long time.”
“It’s like riding a bike,” he said. “I assume. I’ve never gone a significant amount of time without being on the back of a horse. Also, I imagine you’re a hell of a lot more saddle sore than you are when you pick up bike riding after a good number of years.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Good to know. I look forward to the screaming muscles. And as I limp around the house, I’ll remember that you’re the reason I can barely walk.”
He thought about letting the moment pass by. But then, he thought no. He was going to take it. “Honey, you are not the first woman to say that to me.”
He couldn’t see her face, but if stiffness was something you could feel in the air, he was certain he felt it now.
“You’re disgusting,” she said.
“That is not the general consensus.”
“See, this really does make me want to go on a date with Grant,” she commented, keeping her tone light. “Because I doubt he would ever say things like that to a lady.”
“Grant has barely spoken to a woman in eight years. I’m not sure he knows what he would say to a lady at this point in time.”
That little bit of unexpected honesty made his chest turn a little bit.
“So he hasn’t... He hasn’t gone out with anyone since his wife died?”
“No.”
“I can understand that,” she said, slowly. “I imagine any experience with marriage makes you think twice about jumping in again.”
“You don’t want to get married again?”
“Right now? No. And I can’t imagine ever willingly submitting myself to that ever again.”
“I don’t think his reasoning is quite the same as yours,” Wyatt pointed out.
“No. I expect it isn’t. But it’s just... More than even the not trusting someone else, it sounds like a lot of work. I was married. I was married for a long time. It’s like, I’ve done it. I’ve seen what that life is like. I’ve seen what it can give me. I’m not really interested in checking it out again.”
“Been there, done that?”
“Yes,” she confirmed.
Damien had a lot to answer for, and that was the damned truth. No, Wyatt wasn’t any more interested in marriage than Lindy was, but she was the kind of woman who should be. The kind of woman who deserved better. Who should have gotten a hell of a lot better than she had. If she didn’t want marriage, it should be because there was something better and brighter out there for her. Not because she was exhausted emotionally. Not because her heart had been battered, ground into the dust underneath the heel of some jackass’s boot.
“I’ve always thought marriage seemed pretty overrated myself,” he commented.
She surprised him by continuing the topic. “Why is that?”
“One woman for the rest of my life,” he said, the lie slipping out easily. “I don’t think I could handle that.”
As if it all came down to him being afraid he couldn’t control his dick. As if it didn’t have anything to do with the hard, sharp truths he learned about himself when he was seventeen years old. The hard, sharp truths about what it cost to care for someone. Loss and betrayal and defiance, all mixed up together.
“Well, I admire you for knowing that about yourself.” She didn’t sound admiring in the least.
“So, we figured we would take the guests down by the river,” Wyatt said, changing the subject.
All of this was getting a bit too close to places he kept well guarded for a reason. It was one thing to try to get under her skin a bit. It was another to cut his own skin away from the bone and scrape it raw.
Anyway, the sun was shining and he was out on a horse, in the middle of a Tuesday. Another thing that drove home the fact that he had made good decisions in his life, in addition to a hell of a lot of bad ones. But, for now, he was going to go ahead and enjoy the ones he’d made that weren’t terrible.
Working outdoors, being able to spend the day out in the wilderness, with a beautiful woman... Well, it wasn’t all bad.
He maneuvered his horse down the narrow trail that cut through the thick, green grass and behind a copse of pine trees that shielded the river from the rest of the winery grounds. He knew—because Jamie had given him a map to look at last night—that the trail would take them to where the grapevines grew.
On the other side of the river was a thicker, denser grove of trees, and back in the distance, shaded beneath the firs, he thought he could see a little cabin.
“Is that your property too?”
“What?”
Clearly, Lindy had been thinking about other things too. “There. Across the river.”
“Oh,” she said. “Yes. Right now, Bea lives in the little cabin.”
“Really?” The spread was bigger than he’d initially thought. Which made Lindy’s ownership of the place even more of a triumph than he’d realized. “So, your in-laws lost all of this land. To you.”
“For the want of a better prenuptial agreement, yes.”
“Do you ever feel guilty about that?”
He turned and looked behind him, examined the stricken expression on her face. “I’m not suggesting you should,” he added.
“No,” she said. “I don’t feel guilty. Because Damien had ownership of the winery at that point, not Jamison and his wife. I think, if they’d had it still... Well, first of all, it wouldn’t have gone to me. Second of all, I might feel bad. But the fact of the matter is I was doing a good portion of the work when Damien and I were married. I was the one trying to lead new initiatives, initiatives that I’ve put in place now. He was mostly preoccupied with his work for the rodeo. And that’s fine. But this was my passion project, not his. And I don’t know...maybe it’s not...strictly fair. Maybe assets should be divided directly in half. But he wasn’t left with nothing.”
“Do you wish he had been?”
“What kind of question is that?” Her tone was sharp.
“An honest one. He cheated on you, Lindy. How long were the two of you married?”
“Ten years,” she said softly.
“Ten years,” Wyatt reiterated. “Ten years you gave to that man. He cheated on you. He ruined it. And somehow, managed to walk away with enough of a dent in his pocketbook that he looks like a victim. I think that’s messed up. I want to know what you think. Honestly.”
For a moment, she said nothing. The only sound was the plodding of the horses’ hooves on dirt, and the rushing river alongside them.
“I think... Yeah, I think he should have lost everything,” she said finally. “My honest answer. I’m angry that he was able to walk away with anything. Not because I wanted it all. Just because I wouldn’t be that sorry if his life had been reduced to rubble. Or...maybe that’s more how I would have felt two years ago. I don’t really care now.”
“Really?”
“Mostly,” she said. She sighed heavily. “I’m not heartbroken anymore. I mean, how much time can you waste feeling heartbroken over a husband who slept with other women?” She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I guess you could waste a lot of time on it, but I don’t want to. He’s not worth it. The man I loved doesn’t exist. I think that’s the hardest thing to come to terms with. The person I thought I was married to... If he was ever that man he’s not anymore. I can’t waste my time grieving over someone who’s basically dead. Wondering what I did to make that happen? That’s another story. And anger... Anger over wasted time, over wasted tears. That’s something else entirely.”
“Makes sense.”
He might not know about the dissolution of a marriage, but he’d experienced heartbreak. And he sure as hell knew about regret.
“Maybe it does,” she said. “Maybe it doesn’t. But it’s true enough.”
They rode on in silence for a while, as the trail wound around the riverbank, and then separated from the water, heading a different direction, where the trees thinned out and the sky opened up, the sun shining down on row after row of twining grapevines.
“This is a helluva place,” he said. “You should be proud of it.”
He meant that. He might be an asshole of the highest order, he might find it tough to be sincere at the best of times, but she had done a great job here. She was a damn fine businesswoman. And she was right about what she had said about Damien. She had done more with this place. She had done better. In his opinion, she deserved everything she got.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice suddenly soft. “I remember the first time I saw it. The first time Damien brought me out here. And I just... I didn’t think that I was the kind of person who would ever be allowed to have something so lovely.”
Something twisted inside his chest. “Why not?”
He was surprised she’d shared that with him, and the look on her face told him that she was too. Almost like she didn’t understand the words that had come out of her mouth.
“I don’t know.” She looked away from him. “I guess...you know. Some people have beautiful things. Some people have beautiful lives. Some people don’t. And when you’ve lived an entire life of dirty and ugly it’s hard to imagine you could ever have anything else. That you could ever deserve anything else. I used to think of him like that too.”
Wyatt swallowed hard. He related to that a little more closely than he cared to admit. Even to himself. That feeling of being someone who could have a life that looked a certain way. Or being someone who could never aspire to such a thing. Someone who didn’t deserve it.
“It must feel more real now,” he said, unable to keep the gravel out of his voice entirely.
“I don’t know.” She paused for a moment. “It didn’t last, did it?”
“This place is going to last,” he said, knowing that she meant her marriage, but moving on to the winery anyway. “What you’re doing here? It’s going to last. You can’t control what other people do. They’re going to cheat.” He gritted his teeth, hating that when it came to his own experience with this kind of thing he couldn’t stand on the right side of the line. “But this is different. It’s not a person. It’s land. It’s not going to betray you. It’s not going to hurt you.”
“Now that’s spoken like a cowboy,” she said. “I imagine the other faithful things in your world are your horse and your pickup truck.”
“Damn straight.” He took a breath, doing his best to dispel the pressure that had begun to build in his chest. “Speaking of horses, how are you doing on that one?”
“Good,” she said. “You’re right. It is like riding a bike. In that, I remember how it’s done.”
“Well, and Trixie here is a pretty easy ride.”
“Funny. I think I read that on a bathroom wall about a girl named Trixie once.”
“If it was in the Gold Valley Saloon I might’ve written it there.”
She laughed, the sound unexpected and bright, splitting through the relative silence around them. “I don’t believe for a second that you would do that.”
“You don’t?” He shook his head. “Clearly I haven’t done a very good job of convincing you that I’m a jackass.”
“Oh no,” she said. “You’ve done a fantastic job with that. It’s just... I don’t think you’re that kind of jackass.”
“Truth be told,” he said. “My name is carved on the wall in the saloon.”
“Tacky,” she commented.
Before Laz had taken ownership of the Gold Valley Saloon, it had been the thing for people to carve their names outside the bathroom door if they had scored inside. And back in his twenties, when he had been more of a drunken asshole than he was in his thirties, he had put his name up there thinking it was damned good fun.
But then, she was right. It was different than writing down a woman’s name and promising she’d give someone a good time, he supposed. As long as the only person you were exposing was yourself, it didn’t seem half as bad.
Of all the things he’d done, that wasn’t even close to being one of the ones he was most ashamed of.
“Yeah, well,” he said finally. “I’m a little tacky.”
“I believe that.”
They rode on through the rows of vines, the sun casting long shadows across the path as they went. It was a spectacular ride. If they paused for some wine tasting, it would be the kind of experience people would go home and tell their friends about.
The kind of experience that would make Grassroots Winery and Get Out of Dodge prime tourist destinations.
And right now, he didn’t care about that. He could hardly think about it.
He was supposed to be out here thinking of exclusively that. But then...but then there was Lindy.
He tightened his hold on Emmy Lou’s reins and stopped her midgait. “We figured that right up here would be a great place to stop for a picnic.”
He’d force himself back on track if he had to.
There was more grass at the end of the grape vines, a few picnic tables set out there, with the glorious view of the mountains around them. Back behind them was the row of pine trees, the river now completely obscured. There were no buildings in view. And it gave the sense of being wholly and completely closed in. He paused his horse.
“It’s serene out here,” Lindy said. “I get so caught up in doing all of the office work that I forget to come out here.”
“Well, you’ll have to come out on the tours sometimes.”
“I don’t know if I’ll have time.”
“It’s a double-edged sword,” he said, to her or to himself he didn’t know. “You make the thing you love your work, and often that means you start neglecting the parts of it that you loved most.”
“I guess that’s true.”
He dismounted, looking back at Lindy. “Why don’t we stop here for a minute?”
Lindy’s eyes were still covered by her sunglasses, but he could see the hesitation move through her entire body. The subtle twitch in her shoulders, the way her hands choked up on the reins, as if preparing to double down about staying on the horse. About not stopping with him.
He could almost read her internal war with herself. To make a big deal out of it and let him know that she was battling anything at all, or to give in and subject herself to a greater amount of time in his presence.
He’d casually dated women he couldn’t read as well as the woman in front of him. And for some reason...he could see through her, clear as day.
Which seemed more curse than blessing in general.
“Okay,” she said, getting off the horse quickly, as though the moment of hesitation before hadn’t happened at all.
“So, you actually make the wine here?” he asked, turning away from her and surveying the grapevines.
“Yes,” she said. “All of the equipment is housed in one of the other barns on the property. Before my in-laws bought the place years ago, it was a big, working ranch. So, a lot of the original buildings are intact. We’ve just repurposed them.”
“I see,” he said. He turned to face her then. She wasn’t looking at him. At least, he was fairly certain she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were still obscured by the sunglasses. Purposefully so, in his expert Lindy opinion.
“What changes have you implemented?” he asked.
She jerked, as if in shock, and then she did look over at him. “Since the divorce?”
“No. All of it. How much of it is yours, Lindy. I want to hear about it.” He did. God knew why, but he did. He was fascinated by her. This prickly, inaccessible woman. Maybe that was why. Because she didn’t bat her eyes and try to get his attention. No. She was hell-bent on running from the attraction between them. Not tempted to lean into it at all. Maybe he was that simple. Enticed by someone who didn’t want him back.
Because it was a novelty.
Because he was a man, and men were pricks.
Or at the very least, led around by them.
“Damien didn’t really want it,” she said. “In fact, when his parents decided to retire, and they turned the place over to him he immediately started trying to figure out how he could pawn the work off on someone else. That’s fine. I mean, he did have a career that was separate from the business. I think to a degree he felt like his father was forcing his hand. Either way, he never wanted anything to do with it. But I... I did.” The corners of her lips turned down into a frown, and he could see a slight pleat forming between her brows, right above the edge of the sunglasses frame. “I never really had dreams. I mean, nothing that was above myself. Until I met Damien, and suddenly so many other possibilities were opened up to me. Money doesn’t buy happiness, Wyatt, but it sure as hell changes your opportunities. Suddenly...there were a lot of different ways for me to figure out how I might find happiness. Damien was done with school, so, that was never really on the table. Anyway, I hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about what I would study in school. It was one of those things that was never an option for me.”
She paused for a moment, tilting her head to the side. “It’s a funny thing. You move in certain circles, and it never occurs to anyone that you might not have gone to college. Which was crazy to me, heading into that social circle. No one in my family has gone to school. I would never...assume that someone had. Now, it seems like more often than not I never meet people who assume someone might not have. Class creates interesting divides, even in small towns. I never really realized how complicated it was until I had lived on both the green side of the fence and the dirt side.”
“I didn’t go to school,” he said, lifting a shoulder. “Nothing beyond the school of getting thrown off an angry animal onto my ass. Grant got married. Bennett... He had a goal, and he figured out how to make it happen. I used to envy him a little bit.”
“You did?”
He had never said those words out loud before, and he had no earthly idea why he was saying them to her now. “Yeah. Both of them, actually. They both found something they wanted and went for it. I... I kind of fell into rodeo.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said. “I have too deep of an appreciation for how difficult the work is. For how competitive it is. You forget, my brother does it too.”
“No. I didn’t forget. But I’ll be honest and say that I fell into success there. At first...at first I wanted to get away.”
She looked interested in that, but she didn’t press. And that was good. He didn’t really want to talk about the circumstances that surrounded his leaving home for the first time. Not with her. Not with anyone.
“I understand that,” she said softly. “Damien was like a nice escape from my real life. When he first showed interest in me... I couldn’t believe it.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you meet him?”
“At the winery,” she said, looking around them. “I applied for a job here. I thought it would be a step up from what I was doing. I was working swing shift at a fast-food restaurant in Lola. I was getting tired of the hours and everything else. He did my interview for the winery and then when it was finished... Well, he didn’t offer me a job, because he said his father would have to approve that. But he asked me on a date, which he said his father would not have to approve.”
“That seems like a mess of human resources issues waiting to happen.”
“Probably,” she said. “But, it’s a family-run business. And anyway... I couldn’t believe that someone that handsome and accomplished would want to go on a date with someone like me. I didn’t think it would last. I didn’t think it would turn into anything. We were different. Different experiences. Different interests. Different friends. But, I worshipped the ground he walked on. All of the things that he showed me that I’d never had the chance to experience before. And I think... Well, I think he liked that. I can’t really blame him. What guy isn’t going to like that?” She frowned. “I mean, I would probably like that, honestly.”
He laughed. “True enough.”
“Everything with him is complicated. And always will be. Because there is that scorched earth and destruction desire, like I mentioned earlier. But then...being with him made me want more. Because I could see a potential future where I could have more. And when he made it clear he didn’t want to do any work on the winery... I put myself forward.”
“How did that go?”
“Not well,” she said, smiling tightly.
He could imagine. He didn’t know Damien’s family, but he’d heard stories from the other man over the years. Imagining Lindy, fine-boned and soft, standing in front of her stodgy, snobby in-laws and making a case for the fact that she should be the one to run the winery...
If he didn’t have a healthy heap of respect for her already, he would have gotten some in that moment. As it was, it doubled.
“I figured out how to make a business plan,” she continued. “And I presented Jamison with one. He still wasn’t happy, but he couldn’t argue. When Jamison officially passed ownership on to Damien, Damien resisted a lot of my new efforts. But, I still moved forward with some of it. I had the barns remodeled to make dining areas. To make a venue for weddings, for dances. I started pursuing partnerships with people like Alison Donnelly. To have her bring her baked goods to the winery. And, since the divorce I’ve started doing farm-to-table dinners biweekly over the summer, and I’ve opened the tasting room in Copper Ridge. I hope to open one in Gold Valley in the next couple of years. Then, there’s this partnership with you.”
She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the motion, and she walked on ahead, leaving the horses behind as she drifted through the grass, the breeze ruffling her blond hair as she looked out toward the velvet patchwork of the mountains. “That’s the thing about people like Damien. He had all of this handed to him. Possibility is something he takes for granted. Achievement is something he takes for granted. I live every day amazed that I have all these resources. And I don’t want to waste them. It feels limitless to me. It feels new and exciting. No, I didn’t get to go to school and learn about business in a classroom. I rolled my sleeves up and I started doing it. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done things inefficiently. I’ve overpaid for services. I’ve had contractors walk out on me and not fulfill their obligations. But for every bit of ground I’ve lost I’ve gained more. And I haven’t given up. I didn’t give up when my marriage dissolved. I won’t give up now.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s damned impressive.”
“Do you know...” She paused for a moment, shaking her head. “You’re the first person to ask me all of that. To ask how much of this is mine. I think so many people assume that I took this from him. From them.”
“Anyone with half a brain can see that isn’t true. Just based on the fact that his sisters rallied around you. That says a hell of a lot right there. If people can’t respect you, then they should respect Sabrina and Bea’s loyalty to you, don’t you think?”
“I would like it if they would just respect me. But, I take your point.”
“I’m not sure anyone respects me,” Wyatt said. “But then, I’m not sure I care.”
“That’s the difference,” Lindy pointed out. “You’ve never even tried to get people to respect you, have you?”
“Seems overrated to me. I prefer to come up from behind and win before anyone realizes I’m a contender.”
At least, that was what he hoped to do with Get Out of Dodge. The alternative was... The alternative was failing. Failing himself. Failing Grant and Jamie. Bennett.
“I’ve spent too many nights standing in groups of people who think that I’m beneath them. Who think I’m not as smart. Who think I don’t deserve to be standing in the spot I’m in. I want...better. I wish I didn’t care. But I can’t help it. I do.”
“It’s not a bad thing to care,” he said, taking a step toward her, close enough now that the slight breeze carried her floral perfume toward him, the impact of those flowers like a battering ram. “I wish I remembered how.” She appraised him closely, and he smiled. “Well, sometimes I wish I remembered how. A lot of times I’m happy I don’t.”
She was quiet for a breath. “You care,” she said, finally.
And for the first time, he was glad that she still had her sunglasses on. Because right about now he didn’t want to know what she saw.
It had never occurred to him until that moment that if he could read her, every movement, every minute expression, that she might be able to do the same thing with him.
“About the ranch. Remember, I’m nothing more than a bad cliché of a country song. My horse, my truck, my land.”
“Right. Don’t forget your beer.”
“And my woman?”
She stiffened. “Is there a woman?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said, taking another step toward her, unable to help himself. “Right now, she’s not so impressed with me.”
“Well, it’s not hard to understand why.”
He appraised her for the space of three breaths. Watched as her breasts rose and fell with each one. Color stained her cheeks. She was blushing. And still, even with the sunglasses, he knew she was looking at him like she wanted him to turn to stone.
Well, hell, he was hard as stone. Had been from the moment he’d first seen her.
She’d always been there. In the back of his mind. Ever since that first moment.
Yes, he’d been with other women in the past five years. Of course he had. But the more he spent time with Lindy, the more she overtook his senses.
When she had been married to Damien it had been the gentlemanly thing to go off and sleep with other women, to do something to keep himself from fantasizing about his friend’s wife.
But, in the time since the divorce... That rationale had become a lot more difficult to maintain, seeing as she was no longer his friend’s wife. Or anyone’s wife.
Since her divorce... Yes, there had been other women.
In the past year...not so much.
And acting like it was a game. Light and funny banter... That was getting harder too. Along with the rest of his damned body.
He liked a game, he liked to flirt, but he was getting tired of this one not going anywhere. He was getting tired of her acting like it didn’t mean anything.
It did. She wanted him. He could see it. And he didn’t know what the hell her investment was in acting like she didn’t. They were grown-ass adults. She didn’t want to get married, neither did he. But damn he wanted to burn off some of this electricity that sparked between them every time he saw her.
Yeah, they were working together, but in his mind, that was only making it worse. Ignoring it, continuing to go on like it wasn’t happening... That wasn’t working. Not for him.
It wasn’t going away. It wasn’t getting better. It was only getting stronger. And he didn’t know what to do with that.
He didn’t know what to do with this beautiful, gorgeous brick wall standing in front of him. One that made him crazy, one that made his skin itch and his blood feel like it was on fire.
He didn’t know how to want and not have.
Sex wasn’t that big of a deal, it never had been in his life. Apart from the one time it had been. But that had been about feelings. It had been about betrayal. And he’d done his damnedest to make sure that feelings never came into it. He’d also made sure that he never poached on another man’s territory, not again.
He liked sex without strings. And he and Lindy had no strings between them.
What they had was heat. What they had was need. A kind he’d never felt before.
Her pretending it was nothing...
He was done with it.
Completely done.
“Lindy,” he said, addressing the smooth angle of her jaw, the edge of her sculpted cheekbone. “Look at me.”
She did, but those sunglasses were still in place, and he couldn’t see enough of her.
He reached out and pulled her sunglasses away from her face, revealing wide, blue eyes that she immediately did her best to narrow into a hardier, more guarded expression.
“Give me my sunglasses back,” she said.
“I just want to look at you.”
“And I just want my retinas to not get scorched.”
“I think a few minutes without sunglasses will be fine.”
He looped the earpiece of the sunglasses over his shirt. He reached out and took hold of her chin, angling her face upward. “What would it take for you to be a little more impressed with me? Because let me tell you, I’ve got quite a few skills to recommend me. I might have lucked into success in the rodeo, but some of that is due to the fact that when I set out to do a task, you can be damn sure I’ll complete it, honey. If I get on for a ride, I’m not getting off till... Well, till everyone gets off.”
“You haven’t realized by now that your clever sexual innuendo doesn’t impress me?” she asked, but even as she spoke the angry words color bled into her cheeks.
“What would impress you then?” he asked again.
“Honesty. Stop trying to be clever. Stop being a jerk. Tell me what you want.”
Desire kicked him in the gut, the anger in her eyes sparking something else entirely. Whatever he had thought he’d felt for her before... It was more now. It was more dangerous, more destructive than anything else that had ever come before it.
“I don’t think you want that,” he said.
“You don’t scare me, Wyatt Dodge,” she said. “I’m a strong enough woman to stand on my own two feet even when you’re trying to sweep me off them. I was married for ten years. I know where this kind of thing ends up. That girl I told you about earlier? The one who got asked on a date in a job interview and saw that as a gift? She doesn’t exist anymore. She’s as dead as the man I thought my ex-husband was. I don’t think a nice date is a gift, not anymore. My due, maybe. But not a gift. So go ahead. Try me. Give me one ounce of sincerity, and let’s see where we get.”
She was doing what she did best. Staying in her comfort zone. Throwing down a challenge. Setting the tone. Because she thought he would falter. Because she thought...whatever she thought. That he was messing with her? That he didn’t mean it when he said he wanted her? As if the electricity between them could be faked.
“Maybe I should scare you,” he said, his voice rough. “Because this? This thing between us... I don’t know what the hell it is. If I kissed you right now, if you kissed me back... I think we would light this whole vineyard on fire. All those pine trees would go up like a lit match and dry tinder. We’d start a whole forest fire, baby. I don’t want to give you a gift. I want to burn out this thing between us until there’s nothing left but ashes. Ashes aren’t a gift. They’re evidence of destruction. That’s what I think might happen if we touch. That we may well ruin everything around us, but it might be worth it.”
Her eyes widened, and she let out a slow, shuddering breath. Her chin moved imperceptibly between his thumb and forefinger, and he tightened his hold on her, forcing her to keep on looking at him.
“Did I scare you? Good. You wanted sincerity, you’re getting it. I want you. You. Not sex. You. That’s different. And it bears mentioning, because let me tell you, usually I’m not so picky. I’m not going to pretend that I’m anything other than what I am. But you should know, I don’t care about much, but the one thing I’ve cared about in a long time is that I want the next woman I take to bed to be you.”
He released his hold on her and took a step back. “That doesn’t need to impress you,” he said. “But it’s the truth. You can do whatever you want with it. But if I can’t be the thing that keeps you up tonight, I sure as hell hope that will.”