by Jennie Marts
“You have family that lives in Creedence?”
She shrugged. “Sort of.”
“Then why didn’t you stay with them?”
“I told you…”
“It’s complicated. Yeah, I get it.” He took a sip of tea as he studied her and tried to figure out what to do. She hadn’t technically done anything all that bad. She hadn’t lied about sleeping in the barn. She’d just omitted telling him about it.
But so what if she’d slept out there? She hadn’t hurt anyone. Except herself. He’d slept on that sofa in the office and knew it was hell on a person’s back.
He didn’t like all the guarded information about her family and what she was doing in Creedence, but it wasn’t really any of his business. He was her employer. She didn’t need to tell him everything—or anything, really—about her personal life.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked, her fingers tightening on her mug and her voice edged with that tough tinge she got when she thought he was insulting her or looking down at her.
What was he going to do about it? It seemed to come down to one of two decisions—kick her out or let her stay. And the thought of her leaving in a few weeks was already killing him. He wasn’t ready to kick her out of his life yet. He needed her. And not just to cook and clean.
But it was too late at night, and he was too tired to be thinking about that. Thoughts of her had stolen too much of his sleep lately.
He covered his mouth as a yawn snuck up on him. “Look, it’s late, and we both need some sleep. I’m not thrilled with what you did, but it’s done and there’s no point in looking back. You’re doing a great job with the meals, and knowing you’re here and taking care of the house stuff has taken a load off my already burdened shoulders.” He gazed into his empty cup as if the leaves might tell him what to do. “Plus, I like you. I like hanging out with you and eating our meals together. And I could use a friend right now too.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “I’d like you to stay.”
Her fingers loosened on her mug as the tension in her shoulders relaxed just the slightest. “Thank you. I’d like that too.”
Their gazes locked and held. It was hard to gauge what she was feeling, but they seemed to be communicating with more than words. Her free hand was on the table next to his, and he was tempted to touch her fingers, even just the slightest brush to offer…what? Friendship? Support of her bad situation?
His pinkie was so close that all he’d have to do was barely stretch it to the side and it would touch hers. But what if she took that the wrong way? He had just seen her naked. But he sure as heck didn’t want her to think that was the reason he wanted her to stay. But wasn’t that part of it?
He pulled his hand away and clapped it to his thigh as he pressed up from his chair. “You can sleep in Quinn’s room tonight, and we’ll talk some more in the morning. We’ll figure something out. Maybe I can give you an advance on this week’s pay—just enough to get you someplace to stay.”
“That would be great.” She stood as well and reached to pick up the mugs.
The scent of her shampoo filled the air as she stood, and he wanted to pull her to him and bury his head in the silky dark waves. Yeah, he needed to go to bed. And now. Not that he would be doing much sleeping, knowing she was in the room down the hall. “Just leave them. We can get them in the morning.”
She curled her fingers into her palms and pressed a hand to either side of her thighs. “Good night then.”
“Good night.”
She turned to head down the hallway toward Quinn’s room, then stopped and pivoted back around. “Thanks, Logan. You’re a good man. And a good friend.”
Emotion swelled in his throat. Harper didn’t seem the kind to give out compliments easily. Her words meant something to him.
And at least he was good at something.
* * *
Harper had been up early, determined to prove to Logan that he’d made the right decision to keep her on.
By the time he stumbled out to the kitchen for coffee, she had a complete spread ready of eggs, bacon, fruit, and waffles. She’d even heated the syrup.
His hair was tousled and his eyes were a little blurry, but he still looked hot as hell, and she couldn’t help but imagine how things could have gone differently the night before. Yes, he could have fired her and kicked her out on her sofa-surfing ass. Or she could have snuck into his room and crawled into bed with him.
She’d seen the way he’d looked at her after catching her in the shower. His eyes had held the hunger of a starving man staring at a perfectly prepared steak. And Lord help her, she wanted to be that cut of meat. The gun he’d been holding had about given her a heart attack, but after he’d put it down, she’d half hoped he’d become so overcome with desire after catching her naked that he’d stride forward and take her in his arms. Then take her on the floor. Then the sofa.
Nice fantasy, but if that had happened, she probably wouldn’t be standing in the kitchen flipping a waffle onto a plate. Logan had made it clear he didn’t want complications. He wanted someone he could trust to take care of his house—not take care of him.
Although he had been giving off mixed signals. One minute he was all business; then the next his voice was all breathy as he told her he wanted her to stay. And it didn’t sound like he meant stay to sweep the floors but to stay with him. His hand had been next to hers on the table, and she swore at one point that he was going to hold her hand.
She’d almost come undone when he’d asked her to stay. If he had taken her hand, she would have crawled into his lap and kissed him until their clothes fell off.
“How’d ya sleep?” he asked, his voice all deep and morning-husky-sounding, making her wonder not for the first time what it would be like to wake up next to him.
He poured a cup of coffee, then leaned back against the counter and closed his eyes as he took a sip.
Seriously? The man made drinking coffee look sexy.
“Great. Thanks again for letting me stay in your sister’s room.” She hadn’t really slept well. Not at first. She’d lain awake worrying that she’d blown it with the only chance she had at making enough money to get her son back. And thinking about the fact that a smokin’-hot cowboy was in bed only a few steps down the hall hadn’t helped either.
“She wasn’t using it,” he mumbled around the slice of crisp bacon he’d just stuffed in his mouth. “Great bacon, by the way.”
A smile tugged at her mouth. “Thanks,” she answered, as pleased as if he’d complimented her personality. She handed him the plated waffle. “Warm syrup is on the table. I’ll get you some eggs.”
“Thanks.” He snatched another piece of bacon, then took the plate and his coffee to the table and dropped into a chair. “Give me till I’m a half a cup in, and then I’ll be ready for more civilized conversation than grunting about the bacon.”
“You’re fine,” she said, secretly aware of the double entendre. The man was fine. Even straight out of bed with a dark smudge of whiskers on his cheeks.
She scooped some eggs onto a couple of plates and joined him at the table, giving him the space he needed. She didn’t want to do anything to make him regret letting her stay.
She’d barely made a dent in her meal when he scraped the remaining syrup from his plate with his last bite of waffle and stuffed it in his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “That was delicious. I haven’t had a waffle in a long time. Thank you.”
“Yeah. Of course.” She stared at her plate and pushed a pile of eggs from one side to the other. Breakfast had gone well, but she needed to remind him of her worth and give him more reasons to keep her around. “I already put a roast in the slow cooker this morning so we’ll have pulled pork sandwiches for lunch. Then I was planning to make lasagna this afternoon to have for supper. Does that sound okay?”
“That sounds great. Amazing. I haven’t had homemade lasagna in months.” He finished the last swallow of his coffee and offered her a grin that did those funny things to her stomach. “Okay. I’m human again.”
“You want me to get you another cup?” She rose partway out of her chair, but he waved her back down.
“No, I’m good. And if I want more, I can get my own dang coffee. But I could use your help with something else. You up for helping me feed the cows again this morning after breakfast?”
“Sure. Give me fifteen minutes to clean the breakfast dishes, and I’ll be glad to help.” She meant it. She wasn’t just trying to appear useful this time. She really did enjoy helping him with the cattle. Maybe she’d been a pioneer woman in a past life. Or maybe she just liked spending time with him. Watching him toss hay bales around was a nice perk too. And if it made her appear more useful, it was a win, win, win.
It took them a couple of hours to take care of the cows, but Harper loved it. She liked the work and liked talking to and joking around with Logan. He seemed to have gotten over being mad about her staying in the barn, because he was acting like his normal charming self again, teasing her and goofing off with Star. Harper had gotten out of the truck this morning and been formally introduced to the cow. She’d fed Star a marshmallow and stroked the soft white tuft of fur on the cow’s forehead. And she’d only half believed it when Logan told her he’d once saddled the beast and ridden her.
Apparently riding a cow is not a thing. Now she knew. Not unless it was being done in a rodeo and on a bull, but that was something else entirely.
As much as he joked around with her, he taught her things too. He explained about the different grasses and how they rotated the cattle to different parts of their ranch to take advantage of the best grazing. And he told her how playing hockey had made him a better rancher and vice versa. Both things had contributed to his work ethic, and the more he did each one, the better he got at them. Both ranching and hockey could be cold and brutal and hard, and he’d had to learn to dig deep and rely on his passion for both to get him out of bed in the morning to do chores or get to practice. Learning to work as a team helped him on the ice and at the ranch when he worked alongside other men to round up cattle or move them to different pastures.
She’d never imagined how the two parts of his life, hockey and being a cowboy, could overlap and blend together in so many ways. But listening to him talk, it was obvious he’d found his self-confidence and his strength of character on the land and in the ice arena. He didn’t brag or boast about either, but his knowledge and commitment to both shined through as he spoke.
He educated her on how the cattle part of the ranch worked as well, telling her how they purchased calves and raised them to later sell and what a good acquisition price was and how much they hoped to sell for.
At one point, she’d asked a question about how he kept it all straight. His expression had darkened, and he’d alluded to a stupid mistake he’d made that year. He didn’t tell her what it was, but she’d seen the same expression when he’d been talking about his dyslexia, so she had a feeling the mistake had been due to the disability. She wished he could hear himself talk though. The man was far from stupid. He might have trouble with reading and writing numbers, but he was crazy smart about raising cattle and how the market worked.
Harper was still driving when they got back to the ranch, and Logan had her pull over in front of the barn.
“I had an idea last night,” he told her as they got out of the truck. “I want to show you something.” He led her across the yard to the small bunkhouse where Ted had been living. “We usually have our hired man live here, but due to a lack of intelligence on his part, the place has recently been vacated. I figured since you’ve been taking on the roles of housekeeper, cook, and hired hand, the place should be yours.”
Harper’s heart leapt in her chest. Was he offering her a place to live?
“Now don’t get too excited. It’s nothing fancy. But I’m sure with your miraculous cleaning skills, you could whip it into shape in no time. And I could help.”
She shook her head. This seemed too good to be true. There had to be a catch. If he let her live here, did that mean he wouldn’t pay her? “I appreciate the offer. And I don’t care what kind of shape it’s in,” she told him. Heck, she’d spent the last few months in a jail cell and the last few nights in a barn. Being picky was not a luxury she could afford. But this place had to be out of her meager budget. Maybe she could haggle down the price or barter for another service. She could offer to cut his hair or wash his truck or his tractor or whatever he needed washed. “I’m a little worried about the rent. I’ve got some expenses, and I can’t afford to have too much taken out of my pay. How much would you charge me?”
He pulled his head back. “Charge you? I wouldn’t charge you anything. The place comes with the job.”
“Comes with the job? You mean I wouldn’t pay any rent? At all?” She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t know what to say. It was as if he knew the most important thing she needed to get her son back and was offering it to her with no strings attached.
“Nope. No rent at all. It doesn’t cost me anything beyond basic utilities. But like I said, it’s nothing fancy—think summer camp meets rustic cabin with the ghosts of some old cowhands.”
She didn’t care if it was fancy. She didn’t need fancy; she just needed a place to live. And she couldn’t beat the price. A few ghosts didn’t scare her, and neither did hard work. She could do magic with some cleaners and a little elbow grease. As long as it was warm and had a bed for Floyd, that’s all that mattered. And seriously, how bad could it be?
Logan pushed open the door and they both stepped back, struck by the overwhelming scent of spoiled milk and decay.
“Holy crap. What is that smell?” He covered his nose with his sleeve as he walked into the living area.
Okay. So it was pretty bad. Harper stepped in behind him and surveyed the room. But it had potential.
An overstuffed tan sofa and coffee table faced a fireplace with a television mounted over the mantel. A faded brown leather recliner sat next to the sofa, its seat layered with old newspapers and sports magazines. Pizza boxes, fast-food trash, take-out containers, and empty beer bottles littered every surface. Harper picked her way gingerly through the room, stopping to peer down at a smutty magazine that lay across the corner of the coffee table. It was open to the centerfold and had a naked woman seductively perched on a motorcycle. Well, not entirely naked. She was strapped into a pair of biker chaps. Harper nodded to the magazine. “Classy guy.”
She made her way into the kitchen where the smell was the worst. Rotten food covered the counter, and the refrigerator had been left open. Its contents were meager but still gave off a ripe odor. Knowing what she did about Ted, she assumed the ranch hand left it that way on purpose. Along with the half-empty milk jug he’d dumped in the sink.
“This place is disgusting.” Logan shook his head as he came into the kitchen and peered over her shoulder at the mess. “I had no idea he’d left it like this. I’m really sorry. I thought this would be perfect.”
Harper could see beyond the trash and filth. She knew the place could be cute and homey with a little work. Okay, a lot of work. But she’d never been afraid of hard work or getting her hands dirty. And the payoff would be worth it.
She could make the bunkhouse a home, could show Judith—and the court, if it came to that—she had a place to live, a house to bring Floyd home to. At least for now. Until she could make enough money to get them back to Kansas.
Harper had never been one to succumb to emotion. She mostly thought crying was a waste of energy and never helped anything anyway, but now, having Logan give her this gift had tears welling in her eyes. As she blinked them back, the emotion burning her throat, her body hummed with elation, and she didn’t know how to express to him how happy he’d
made her.
Her mind might not know, but her body did. She turned and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. “Thank you so much. It’s perfect.”
Chapter 12
Harper inhaled Logan’s scent before she had time to think about what she was doing. He smelled so good, like a woodsy aftershave and laundry detergent. His chest was hard, and her gratitude transformed as a spark of desire shot up her spine, and she had the sudden urge to climb him like a tree.
But that tree had just offered her a precious gift, and she couldn’t blow it now. She started to pull back, already feeling awkward about the spontaneous display of affection, but his arms had come up to encircle her waist, and his strong hands splayed against her back and pulled her closer.
It had been a long time since she’d been in the arms of a man, and her control slipped as she melted into him, letting out the softest of sighs as she savored the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.
She pressed her cheek to his shoulder and tightened her grip on his neck, holding on to him for just a beat, just one delicious moment.
But that moment, combined with an impulsive need for this man, could ruin everything. And she couldn’t let that happen. Not when he’d just offered her a home.
She swallowed and let go, stepping away and turning back to the kitchen.
He cleared his throat and pushed the refrigerator door closed. “Yeah. Of course. Although I don’t know how you can think this is perfect. It seems like a disgusting mess.”
“A mess that can easily be cleaned up.” She walked through the kitchen and peered into the first bedroom. “Maybe not easily, but you’d be amazed what a little spit and polish will do for the place,” she said, quoting one of Nana’s favorite sayings.
Logan stepped into the first bedroom, wrinkling his nose at the rumpled bedsheets and another dirty magazine laying open on top of the nightstand. He pinched the corner of the magazine between his fingers to close the offensive pages. “Spit and polish. And a blowtorch. Geez-a-Pete, this is embarrassing. I should have checked the place out before I brought you in here.”