13
WARM, COMFORTABLE AND there was no harrowing hill right in front of him. True, a very large and still-wet dog sat at his feet, not to mention the giant cat beneath the tree, but he’d started the fire while Raine made her pizza dough, and he had a glass of merlot in his hand.
When he’d gotten back to the resort, he’d even managed to write a few pages, including the ending paragraph to a chapter: Her adventurous spirit never failed to captivate him, and the fascination didn’t end there. She was comely, but he’d met other beautiful women. She was intrepid.
If going down that slope at warp speed wasn’t intrepid, he didn’t know what was. He felt somewhat intrepid himself, so Raine definitely qualified.
He was starting to wonder if Matthew Brighton hadn’t modeled this last novel’s heroine after his lovely granddaughter.
It sure seemed like it.
Was Mick the hero?
A tall, dark-haired greenhorn was the main male character. He was starting to wonder. He didn’t really believe in premonitions but he was changing his mind. These days, he couldn’t help but feel that something was going on and he might be a part of it.
And he got to write his own ending.
Raine came in from the kitchen. “I didn’t have watermelon. Or Gouda or sardines. I’m afraid you’re stuck with my original recipe.”
“I suppose I can live without sardines just this once.”
“Harry makes the pizza sauce from scratch. Just wait. She could bottle it and retire. We all just hope she never will.”
He couldn’t see the always-bustling Harry ever content with retirement. “Was she ever married?”
Raine settled in next to him on the couch. “Harry? I think so. She’s like Red. You can’t ask too much. I skirt around those subjects like they’re a rattlesnake ready to strike.”
“Interesting analogy. Maybe you should be the one writing the rest of this book.”
“I’ll stick to graphic design, thanks. But my philosophy has always been that if something is private and a person doesn’t want to talk about it, then they shouldn’t have to. Life’s too short. Don’t stir the pot if there’s no need.” She planted her bare feet on the coffee table and wiggled her toes. She’d changed into plaid pajama pants and a faded shirt with a picture of Goofy on the front. “The fire is nice.”
“After practically flinging myself off a cliff three times, I agree. I felt like I was competing in the luge at the Olympic Games.”
Raine elbowed him. “Admit it, you had fun.”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “As long as Samson enjoyed himself, that’s what matters most.”
“He did. Jangles is jealous. Look at him, all out of sorts.”
“No offense, but he always looks all out of sorts.” A pair of unwinking amber eyes was watching them stealthily through the branches of the Christmas tree. “I think he’s spying on us.”
“Probably wondering if we’re going to make out on the couch, just like a suspicious father. That isn’t a bad idea by the way. Daisy’s not going to venture out from her room until her movie is done playing.”
He’d never heard a better idea in his life. “I don’t know if I have the strength after walking up that hill three times, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
Raine’s mouth curved. “I somehow think you’ll manage.”
He wanted one hell of a lot more than a kiss—or two—but would take what he could get. A beautiful woman in his arms and a crackling fire was his true idea of holiday cheer, and Raine kissed him back with her usual audacity, her fingers trailing along the back of his neck with tantalizing slowness.
If Daisy hadn’t been in residence, and Jangles watching their every move, he might have at least tried to slip off her shirt and caress what he knew to be very lovely breasts, but he settled for just pulling her closer so he could feel them against his chest.
Naturally Samson decided to join them then, bounding onto the couch with great enthusiasm, not exactly adding to the romance of the moment, and both he and Raine were the recipients of kisses of the doggie variety.
So much for the romantic mood.
“It’s a zoo here.” She laughingly pushed Samson away to prevent another attack of affection. “I warned you.”
“There are worse things than to be loved.” He picked up the dog—no small feat—and set him on the floor. That animal weighed about a ton and it wasn’t done growing. Samson was a fitting name.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Neither could Samson, who decided to join them again. Mick gently but firmly set him back on the ground, avoiding another slobbering sign that the puppy stood behind him one hundred percent. “Don’t get too flattered,” Raine warned him wryly. “He loves everyone. Now if Drake’s dogs love you, you’re part of a special club.”
“I want to be a part of a different club entirely,” he told her quietly. “The ‘If Raine Loves You’ club.”
She met his gaze squarely. “Aside from Daisy, I’m starting to think you could be the founding member.”
“What about Slater?”
She considered the glass in her hand. “I’ll always care about him. But we were more in lust than in love. When he offered to marry me it was just because he’s a good old-fashioned nice guy. We’d already mutually gone our separate ways when I discovered I was pregnant. Luckily for both of us, I’m not an old-fashioned girl. You’ve seen how happy he is with Grace.”
He had, and he wouldn’t mind that for himself at all. He thought about Grace and Luce and the serene glow that currently seemed to surround them both. He’d always thought that was a myth, but had changed his mind. Their happiness came through loud and clear.
“I want children.” Those were his cards, right on the table. A straight flush, no request for more of the deck. He was afraid to be so blunt, but she deserved to know it. Besides, she had encouraged him to be more direct out on the hill.
Raine didn’t bat an eye. “Slater and I...we were really young when I had Daisy. I’ve been thinking about it more closely now than I did then. I’m past thirty. I might not get pregnant. Can you live with that?”
“Of course.” He squeezed her hand. “Life is a gamble. But one thing that’s certain is how I feel about you. I risked Dead Man’s Hill just to gain your admiration. I bought a purse to win over your daughter. When a grown man is willing to buy a cute purse, you know he’s serious.”
With a straight face, she agreed. “We’ll put the purse in as exhibit A.”
“Exhibit B might be making out on a couch like a teenager. That isn’t boardroom behavior. You might be a bad influence.”
Raine’s eyes sparkled. “Just wait. Now, tell me about the book. Gramps was working on it when he passed away, so I haven’t been able to bring myself to read it. I’m not going to ask if it’s good, because I know it must be. What’s the storyline?”
She was admittedly curious.
Mick sounded very neutral. “A Tenderfoot imagines he’s a cowboy and falls in love with a dark-haired independent woman and is determined to win her heart. There’s some conflict with a neighboring rancher who wants her land. Sound familiar?”
How was it she’d imagined something exactly like that? Tears stung her eyes. “I miss him. It would have been so nice if you could have met him.”
“No one could agree more.”
“He would have thought you were a fine man.”
“I hope he would have been right.”
She smiled through her tears. “I know he would.”
“That might be the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “I might comment that you now smell vaguely of giant puppy, but I think I might too, so I’ll let it go just this once.”
Raine was conciliatory. “You might want to get used to that. I don’t think Samson will improve as he gets older. Plus your dog will be added to the mix. What were you thinking about? Giant dog, or a small one? Medium breed? What’s our plan?”
“I can’t ask you—”
“You didn’t. I offered.” She raised a hand. “So what was that boyhood dream?”
“Collie.”
“Done.” He seemed like a collie sort of man. It fit. “Long hair, just my luck. I’ll tell Blythe, who will tell Mrs. Lettie Arbuckle-Calder and you’ll have a collie rescue pup in no time. That woman will scour the state for one. She’s a wonder. And don’t tell me how you can afford to buy one, because rescue it is.”
Mildly, he said, “You can be on the bossy side at times. Just an observation.”
He was right. “I’m really used to running my life all on my own, and also making most of the decisions concerning my daughter. If it’s anything big, of course I ask Slater, but we don’t have a custody agreement because we’ve never needed one. Ultimately it falls to me to make the day-to-day choices. I warn you, like your heroine, I’m used to being independent.”
“If you weren’t, I doubt I’d be so interested. Not only do I have my hands full running a company and my own life, no matter how comely she might be, I don’t want someone who just wants me to take care of her.”
Raine practically spit out her sip of wine laughing but managed to swallow in the nick of time. “Comely, again. You and that word.”
He shrugged. “A man on a mission, I tell you. Soon teenagers will be using it, nudging each other in the football stands on Friday nights. Dude, look at that comely girl over there. Check her out.”
“If anyone can do it, I think you can.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He was looking gorgeous, and cowboy-like in his denim shirt and jeans. Except for the hair. He needed a hat to really mess it up, and a set of boots and a horse. She’d get Tate Calder to help her with that last one.
Wedding present?
What else to give the man who probably had everything? She couldn’t top that beach house in Bermuda.
An old six-shooter?
She did know Bad Billy had a friend who dealt in antique guns. Maybe she’d see what he could negotiate for her. Billy knew everyone.
If Mick finished this book, he certainly deserved something like that...unique and special. Very Old West. Something to hang on the wall of his new house.
She thought he’d love it. Hat and boots aside, he’d really go for the six-shooter. Raine got up. “Let me check on my pizza dough.”
“It will have risen about two millimeters, Raine.” He captured her waist and pulled her back. “Stay here with me.”
She traced the line of his nose with her fingertip. “You are entirely too dangerous.”
“I’m entirely yours if you want me.”
“Mick.” Her voice was hushed.
“I’m right here.”
“I know. Your hands are doing interesting things.”
“Nice?”
“Too nice. Jangles is still watching us.”
“I’m going to have to get used to him giving me the stink-eye, right?”
“You are taking some risks. I wish I could invite you to stay the night, but like I said, I can’t. Daisy is certainly old enough to understand why you would. I need to talk to her before anything like that happens.”
It was almost disappointing that he immediately let her go and settled back into a more relaxed pose with a sigh. “My intellect is telling me I agree one hundred percent, but another part of me has a different take on the situation. Maybe you shouldn’t dress so provocatively.”
“These pajama pants and the T-shirt really are a little over the top. I’ll try to tone it down.”
“See that you do if you want me to behave. Maybe you could shave your head or get a giant tattoo of an elf on your forehead. I’m not positive even that would turn me off, but it would be a good start.”
Raine laughed. “You’ve got the holiday spirit, I see. The elf might look strange in July, so I think I’ll skip that one, and I happen to like my hair right where it is.”
“There lies the crux of the problem, so do I.”
At that moment Jangles prowled stealthily out from beneath the tree—which really meant he lumbered out, because he definitely could not pull off a quiet approach—and launched himself onto the couch between them, but couldn’t quite fit. Mick reached for his wineglass and scooted away enough to give the cat room to settle down. “I think he’s decided to help us out with the self-control issue.”
“He’s a very wise feline.” He was. He definitely liked Mick. She did, too. “So what’s Slater’s next project? I haven’t asked him yet.”
“Becoming a father for the third time comes first, I think, but I’ve heard some musings about the Snake River. After this last film, he’ll be able to choose just about anything, I’d guess. Backers will be lining up.”
“I like the idea.” Raine was sincere. “It’s beautiful country there. He’ll absolutely remind people we moved west gradually.”
“And the setting will win the day.”
“I think so. His films work that way.”
“He does have an eye for beautiful things. I’m looking at one of them right now.” He held her gaze.
It was a nicely done compliment. “Thank you, but I’m hardly beautiful.”
“Maybe not in a traditional blonde bombshell sense, but you’re striking, and your eyes are unforgettable. I know I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Slater is a smart man, so I was surprised he ever gave you up, but I didn’t really know the whole story.”
“I’m glad I got to share it with you.” She hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind, either. “Now, if you can chop some onions and green peppers, we’ll really be on the same page. Follow me.”
He could and he did, and she liked the sight of him in her kitchen, the Hollywood executive with a knife in his hand, frowning over the cutting board in concentration.
It might be a different kind of board than he was used to, but she was starting to think he’d adjust to the change.