Ethan got Clarabelle situated back in her stall and grabbed a water bottle. He guzzled half and poured the rest over his head. It was a scorcher today, and he was a walking sweat bomb. He craved a cold shower and even colder beer. In his bungalow. Alone.
Harper stuck her head in the barn. “Dinner tonight at the inn. Seven thirty. Heard you had a runaway.”
He glowered. “Not tonight, but thanks. And our runaway was caused by the duchess of the manor, who probably found some way to twist the incident so I’m at fault.”
“Hmm, a woman who doesn’t like you? That’s kind of historic. Are your boxers in a twist?”
He glared. “Hardly. She’s not my type anyway.”
She snorted. “Convenient. How’s the parolee doing?”
“Not bad,” he said grudgingly. “She listens. Her aunt is the bigger pain in the ass.”
“Oh yeah, you like her.” Her hooted laughter aggravated Ethan like he was twelve again. “And you’re coming to dinner. Ophelia’s cooking and I don’t want to be the one stuck with the dishes this time. You’ve been making excuses for too long.”
He groaned and rubbed his head. “I just want a beer and to not have to talk to anyone.”
“You can have two beers, and we won’t force you to talk. Just grunt. It goes with your new look.”
“The beard again? Fine, I’ll shave it. It’s getting too hot anyway.”
“Thank God. I’ll tell Ophelia you’re looking forward to it.” His sister disappeared, leaving him in an even fouler mood. His knee throbbed like a bitch from pushing himself. He made a note to schedule an extra PT session this week. Since he’d been back in the barn, his leg was being used in a new way, and his body was still adjusting. Maybe he’d go crazy and take an Advil with a beer. Even at the worst of the agony after the operation, he refused meds. Better to get used to the level of pain that was natural in his body and learn to live with it. Too many poor schmucks got addicted to that feeling of pain-free happiness from a bottle. He’d termed it the fake zone. He may be grumpy, but at least he was real.
It was the last thing he had left to cling to.
He took his time walking back to the bungalow, babying the leg a bit, and thought over the past few days with his new charge. It was weird, but he was beginning to enjoy her company. Chloe was willing to learn and didn’t complain, even when he asked her to shovel manure from the main path. Of course, it was still only three days. Maybe the novelty would wear off, and she’d get bored. Still, she seemed genuinely sweet and helpful around the farm, almost as if she enjoyed helping out and being part of a team. She hadn’t copped an attitude, and she seemed excited about learning how to ride. Maybe she’d just hit a bad patch in college and acted out on impulse. Ethan had seen plenty of grown men who screwed up when pushed but then made it right. He respected that type of character. Maybe Chloe had it, too.
Wheezy bounded out of the woods and fell into step with him. The trees bent forward in protection against the sting of the sun. A squirrel scrambled across the path, holding a large nut. The wind stirred the sweet summer air. An inner peace slowly unfolded, fleeting as a bird’s cry, but for a few precious moments, he savored the silence both inside and out.
Until he saw Mia Thrush waiting on his step.
A cloud of purpose practically floated around her. Still clad in those high-heeled sandals, a pair of white capris, and some lacy-type shirt, she looked like she should be yachting. She wore stacks of silver bracelets on her wrist, and diamond studs winked from her ears. Her arms were clasped in front of her chest while she tapped her foot with pure impatience, as if he were running late for their appointment. She caught sight of him, and those golden tigress eyes widened, taking in his disheveled appearance. Wheezy wasted no time in trotting over to give her some adoring kisses. Seemed dogs were the only animals she was safe to be around. She patted Wheezy with genuine affection, not seeming to care if he ruined her freshly pressed slacks. Ethan stopped a few feet away and narrowed his gaze. “What are you doing here?”
She steeled her shoulders, emphasizing the thrust of her pert breasts and her tiny waist, then had the gall to give him the stink eye. “I’m here for an apology.”
A bark of laughter escaped his lips. Damn, she had spunk. “Let me get this straight. You come into my barn without permission, let a horse out of its stall, watch her disappear, and now you want an apology from me?”
“Yes.”
“Princess, I have plenty of things to say to you, but none of them include an apology.”
“I brought you lunch as a peace offering. I was trying to meet you halfway since we’re neighbors. I was trying to be nice!”
“I never got to eat my lunch because it took me hours to find Clarabelle. I had to scour those damn woods and waste my entire afternoon because you dropped a carrot. Thank God she wasn’t hurt and I was able to get her back safely.”
This was the second time she began nibbling her lip—a definite tell when she felt guilty about something. “I tried to explain and apologize, but you got all boorish and started yelling to get out of your barn.”
“I never yell. I told you very quietly to leave the barn.”
“In a threatening tone.”
He shook his head. “I bet you’re an excellent PR person.”
She looked surprised at the change of subject. “Thank you, I feel like I am. I do work hard.”
“You’re very good at twisting everything around like a pretzel. Bending the truth to suit your needs. No wonder Lake hired you.”
Those Bambi eyes simmered with temper. “You think you’re hot shit, with your beard and your sexy body and your fake cowboy drawl, but you’re just mean! You pretend to be this broody loner type because you had an accident and hurt your leg. Big frikkin’ deal. That doesn’t give you a right to be cranky to everyone you meet.”
His mouth practically dropped open. “What do you know about my leg?” he asked in a warning voice.
She didn’t seem intimidated at all. In fact, she had the nerve to toss her mane of honey hair and come closer. “Car accident, right? I spoke to someone in town. Seems the consensus is you got hurt, left your previous job, and came home. You proceeded to lock yourself in some sad little bungalow and now refuse to come out. How am I doing so far?”
His head spun. Red mist shrouded his vision. Oh, she needed to learn some manners, and he was just the type to teach her. “You know nothing about what happened to me,” he said softly. “Your entire career revolves around manipulating the truth. Let me ask you this, princess: Have you ever gotten real before? Do you even know what it is?”
She bared her teeth and gave a throaty growl. The sound was almost sexual and registered below his waist. Thank fuck he was too pissed off to care. “I can get real, anytime, anyplace, horse man. I’m not afraid to answer any question with the truth, and your cheap shots about my career are just that. Cheap. You know nothing about the people I try to protect or what I stand for.”
“Any question, huh?”
They were close now. The scent of her perfume surrounded him—some type of exotic orange spice. Her lashes were thick and dark. Her lips were pursed with a furious focus, painted the color of pale apple cider. She had a dab of white sunscreen on her nose she’d forgotten to rub in and some type of shimmery gold shadow under her arched brows. She was infuriating and silly, and for one brief, horrifying moment, Ethan wanted to kiss her.
“Yes, any question,” she snarled back.
Too bad the woman would break under one good passionate kiss, or else he’d be tempted to play a mean game of chicken to see who would retreat first.
Too bad she was already sleeping with Lake.
Instead, he leaned in and gave a slow, mocking smile. “You really think I’m sexy, huh?”
She jerked back, eyes wide with horror. “You are pure evil,” she whispered.
Ethan chuckled. “Your secret is safe with me, princess. Anytime you wanna get real, give me a ring.”
A shriek emitted from her lips. She stomped around him in those towering heels. “I will never, ever bring you lunch again!”
Suddenly, Hei Hei came racing around the corner, screeching in response to the noise. He stopped short when he spotted Mia, his crazy head feathers bobbing in mad glee, then tore off in pursuit. Ethan opened his mouth to stop the suicidal chicken, but she faced down her nemesis, bending over to get in the chicken’s face, jabbing a finger wildly in the air.
“And you! I will not allow you to intimidate me, either, so unless you want to end up on the barbeque, back off!”
Hei Hei stopped short and stared at her with mute fascination.
With one last glare, Mia stalked off down the path.
Ethan looked at Hei Hei. “I think we really pissed her off,” he offered. “Maybe you should give her some space before you try to make friends again.”
With one last wild cluck, the chicken took off after her like a scorned lover on the path to redemption.
Ethan shook his head. “I warned him,” he muttered. Then he headed inside to shower and change for dinner, wondering what strange spell Mia Thrush had cast that made him want to kiss her even for a moment.