He banged open the door to the mudroom, already stripping off the soiled shirt to toss it in the washing machine.
The door to the kitchen opened, and Sierra hurried out to meet him. “We’ve been—” She stopped, her green eyes fixed on his torso with gleaming interest.
Her expression was damn good for his ego. As the moment stretched on, the urge to tease her became irresistible. “Hey,” he said, “my eyes are up here.”
Her face flushed with color. “I... Sorry.”
Grinning, he let her off the hook. “No apology necessary. Trust me, darlin’, if I ever walked in on you shirtless, I’d lose more than my train of thought.”
The rosy hue in her cheeks deepened, and she looked away.
“What was it you were saying?” He should really find out what she needed and be on his way. Mrs. Wilcox was a stickler for punctuality. She’d once said the only way to keep five sons in line was to enroll them in so many activities that they had no time or energy left for mischief. As a result, she was always on her way to a lesson or a sporting match or to drop someone off for a part-time job.
“Oh, we’ve been invaded.”
“Aliens? That would explain the crop circles in the pasture.”
He didn’t have the time to stand here making dumb jokes, but it was worth it when she laughed, her green eyes shining up at him.
“Three of Vicki’s sorority sisters came to check on her,” she said. “They’re finishing a movie in the living room but already have plans to take over the kitchen and whip up appropriate comfort food. There was talk of something called ‘armadillo eggs.’ And lots of chocolate. In fact, I think I’m being sent to town with a sizable grocery list, if you need anything.”
He shook his head, sidestepping her so that he could get into the house. “All I need is a clean shirt and more hours in the day.” What he wanted, on the other hand, was to stay here with Sierra, making her laugh and enjoying the blatant interest in her gaze.
It was surprising how comfortable he was with her after what had happened yesterday. When Vicki had attacked him about his dating habits, he’d been ashamed that Sierra was there to hear it. Yet last night, when he’d told her about his carousing and Vicki’s accident, she hadn’t judged him at all—except to tell him to get over himself.
His mother had also told him to stop blaming himself, but she loved him, was predisposed to believe it wasn’t his fault. Sierra was blunt with her opinions. If she’d thought his actions were unforgivable, she would have said so. Instead of condemnation, there’d been only matter-of-fact advice and a willingness to listen.
For a woman who routinely branded herself “difficult,” Sierra Bailey was surprisingly easy to be with.
* * *
SIERRA HAD ALREADY made one trip inside with a bag of groceries when she heard footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jarrett—wearing a shirt, mercifully. She still felt foolish over how strongly she’d reacted to the sight of him earlier. She was a medical professional, for crying out loud! She’d seen plenty of unclothed bodies.
Then again, not every man had a body like his.
“Need any help?” he called from a few yards away.
“Nah.” Sunset came just a little bit earlier every day, and she knew Jarrett’s weekends were the busiest because of riding lessons and the boarders who came to visit their horses. “Jemma’s coming out to grab the rest of it as soon as she finds her shoes.”
At Jemma’s name, he darted a glance toward the house that seemed almost nervous.
“Problem?” she asked.
“Of course not.” He lowered his voice, leaning toward her. “But I went inside earlier to grab a quick bite and there was so much giggling. Are you sure there are only four girls total? It seemed like more. They’re trying to cheer Vicki up by making plans for the spring, like concerts by bands I’ve never heard of. Sierra, they made me feel almost...old.”
She grinned at his horrified expression. “I had that same sensation earlier. Like I was the den mother.”
“Good to know it’s not just me they’ve prematurely aged. Maybe tonight you and I should sit side by side in rockers on the porch and puzzle over whippersnappers these days with their instatwitter and facegrams.”
Speaking of tonight... She needed to tell him she wouldn’t be here.
“What?” He cocked his head. “You do realize I was kidding. I know it’s not called facegram.”
“Hey, I made plans with Kate tonight. Is that okay? I probably should have talked to you before—”
“Of course it’s okay for you to take the night off. I hired you to be with Vicki so I can put in full-time days, but no one expects you to be at our beck and call around the clock.” His mouth lifted in a sardonic half smile. “Especially not for what we pay you.”
She lifted one shoulder as she reached into the trunk. “You’ll make it up to me with glowing recommendations to any prospective employers.”
“Right. Any hot leads?”
“Yeah. That clinic in Fort Worth wants me to come for an in-person interview, but not yet. Their human resource manager will be out on vacation this coming week, so we’ll schedule it after she gets back.”
“Well, that’s...great.” His tone didn’t exactly match his words. When she shot a questioning look over her shoulder, he changed the subject. “So you and Kate have a girls’ night planned?”
“Not exactly. I mean, yes. She invited me to the local dance hall, but it won’t be just us. Cole and his brother will be there, too.”
“You have a date with Will.”
“More or less.” Why did she suddenly feel guilty? “Is that a problem?”
“Why would it be?” His tight smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Who you choose to spend your Saturday nights with is your business.”
The front door opened, and Jemma came bounding down the porch stairs like a long-legged puppy, all youthful energy. “I promise I didn’t forget about the groceries!”
I did. The last thing on Sierra’s mind was the bag of food she held. She was far more concerned with trying to read Jarrett’s expression, but he was already turning away.
“See you all at dinner,” he said. “Assuming you’ll still be here?”
She nodded. “I’m making a couple of pizzas. I’ll head out after we eat.”
He gave a crisp nod and headed back in the direction of the barn.
Was he angry? Disappointed that she hadn’t heeded his warning about not going out with Will? The firefighter’s aversion to commitment was hardly a deterrent. If Sierra’s upcoming interview went well, she would be living in Fort Worth by October. The last thing she wanted was to fall for a man in Cupid’s Bow.
* * *
“JARRETT? IF YOU don’t grab a slice, there might not be any pizza left.”
Vicki’s words, which seemed to be coming from a lot farther than a few feet away, made Jarrett wonder how long he’d been standing at the counter, staring out the kitchen window. Truthfully, he wasn’t very hungry. But at least his sister was voluntarily speaking to him after yesterday’s blowup.
Good thing she was being civil since he’d probably alienated Sierra before she left the house. Having both the females he lived with ticked off at him seemed like a dangerous gamble.
When Sierra had come down the stairs for her date, Jarrett had been poleaxed by the sight of her in that figure-hugging black dress. He’d also noted the effort she’d put into styling her hair and fixing her makeup—trouble she’d gone to for Will Trent. He should have told her she looked beautiful. Or, better yet, said nothing at all. Instead, what he’d heard come out of his mouth was that she was overdressed for the local dance hall.
She’d narrowed her eyes. “Then maybe I’ll set some new trends around here. Don’t wait up for me.”
Wasn’t there a ti
me when he’d been smooth with women, instinctively charming? He’d habitually doled out flattery to every female who’d crossed his path. So why, after a day of thinking how grateful he was to Sierra, had he insulted her instead of paying her a basic compliment?
Behind him, Vicki cleared her throat. “We’re going to be using the TV. You didn’t need the living room, right?”
In other words, could he please be somewhere else in the house instead of awkwardly lurking around like an unwanted chaperone? “Not at all. Maybe I’ll go into town.”
Last night, he’d shot game after game of pool with anyone who wanted to challenge him. Tonight he could catch a movie. Or call a few of the rodeo buddies he hadn’t seen much of lately and see if anyone wanted to go bowling.
But even as he had the thought, he dismissed it. Why bother lying to himself? He knew exactly where he was headed.
* * *
“YOU LOOK FANTASTIC,” Kate said, raising her voice to be better heard over the live band. “I’m sure Will’s already told you that.”
He had, when she’d first arrived half an hour ago. Currently, Will and Cole were at the bar, getting them a round of drinks. When asked what she wanted, Sierra had said anything frozen. She normally preferred a glass of nice wine over cocktails that came with umbrellas or swizzle sticks of fruit, but two fast dances on a crowded floor had left her flushed with heat. Besides, while Cupid’s Bow had a number of nice qualities, she doubted an upscale wine list was one of them.
“It’s always nice to hear that you look good,” Sierra said, “even if it’s already been said.” Take that, Jarrett Ross. Maybe she was overdressed, standing out among women who were mostly wearing jeans and red bandanna skirts, but none of her companions seemed to mind.
Lifting her hair off the nape of her neck and fanning herself with her free hand, she scanned the throng of people around her, hoping to see the Trent brothers returning with cold drinks. No such luck. “Cole seems great,” she told her friend. The smiling man, who looked a lot like Will, radiated happiness every time he looked at his fiancée. “I’ve never met a town sheriff before. I think I expected someone more serious. All squinty-eyed and somber, ready to challenge bad guys in high-noon showdowns.”
Kate’s peal of laughter rang out over the band’s fiddle solo. “You do know Cole’s not a sheriff in the 1800s, right? Besides, it’s Cupid’s Bow. We’re fortunate not to have too many bad guys. Mostly, our crime waves are limited to the Breelan brothers fighting among themselves and crafty old Mr. Wainwright, who has tried to sneak past the nursing-home administration to go streaking three times over the past year.”
Sierra grinned. “Cupid’s Bow has a senior-citizen streaker?”
“Well, he only successfully made it once. The other two times, he was spotted and cajoled back into the facility with butterscotch pudding.”
“Butterscotch pudding? Y’all must be talking about Mr. Wainwright.” Cole emerged from the crowd, carrying two beers. “The deputies are betting shifts of early-morning crosswalk duty on when he’ll make his next attempt.”
“I can’t believe this,” Will complained, handing Sierra a frozen margarita. “We leave you two ladies alone, presenting Kate a clear opportunity to talk me up to a beautiful redhead, and instead, my future sister-in-law decides to chat about an eighty-two-year-old.” He shot a wounded expression at Kate. “Where’s the love, I ask you?”
She grinned at him over the top of her beer. “Sorry. Go away again, and I’ll try to do better.”
“Oh, no. You’ve lost all credibility with me.” Will dropped an arm around Sierra’s shoulders. “Besides, if I keep leaving her alone, someone else is going to ask her to dance. Then where will I be? As it is, only Cole’s stern cop glare is keeping other suitors at bay.”
Sierra laughed out loud at that. “Stern cop glare?” She’d never met a man who looked more besotted and happy with his life than Cole Trent.
“Oh, I have one,” Cole said. “But since I’m off duty tonight, I left it at home.”
The four of them continued to joke around while they finished their drinks. Then Will asked if Sierra was ready to hit the dance floor again.
“Sure.” She’d learned to dance years ago at her parents’ country club, but she and Paul had rarely made time for it. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed it.
They made it to the edge of the sawdust-sprinkled dance floor just in time for the last few power chords of the rollicking song. Then the music shifted into a slower ballad. Will pulled her against him—not indecently close, but definitely more snugly than he had for their previous dances.
Sierra stiffened, the contact making her feel an errant twinge of...guilt? That was ridiculous. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be enjoying Will’s company. They were both single adults, and he was a great dancer with a natural sense of rhythm. She took a deep breath, forcibly relaxing her muscles and leaning into him.
They matched each other’s movements well enough, but there was none of the banter they’d been sharing up until now. Could Will tell she was wrestling a sense of discomfort? At the corner of the floor, he rotated their positions, and her feet collided with his.
“Sorry,” he said, even though she was certain she’d been at fault. “Guess I’m not really feeling this song.” After a moment, he admitted, “I got distracted.”
She glanced up, surprised to see him staring intently across the room. Apparently, he wasn’t just being gallant. Something—or someone—really had snagged his focus.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.
She craned her head, trying to see what he was looking at, but her height put her at a disadvantage. “What’s wrong? Bar fight? Ex?”
“I wish. At least I know how to deal with my ex.” He met Sierra’s gaze, his smile wry. “When you live in the same small town, you get a lot of practice running into each other—whether you want it or not. No, I spotted Amy Reynolds, this kid I’ve felt vaguely responsible for since her apartment caught fire. She used to date a real jerk—guy who makes the disreputable Breelans look like choirboys—but last time I talked to her, they’d broken up. Now he’s with her in a dark corner. If he confronted her, I’m more than willing to ask him to back off. But if she came here with him tonight...”
She understood his dilemma. If the couple had reunited, he didn’t really have the authority to make her stop seeing the guy. “Let’s go find out. I’m new in town. You can tell Amy you wanted to introduce us, and we can check out the situation up close.”
“Wonderful idea.” He gave her a grateful smile. “My brother could use you for undercover work.”
“I’d probably be terrible at it. I’m characteristically very blunt, which doesn’t work well with deception. But Kate’s been telling me about the merits of being sneaky.”
He took her hand, but the contact felt more practical than romantic, as if he was just trying to keep from losing her in the crowd. Their progress was interrupted twice by women cooing flirtatious hellos to Will. If Sierra had been more invested in their date, she might have been jealous.
He’s a great guy. There’s just no spark. She’d suspected as much before she even arrived at the dance hall. She wasn’t sorry she’d come—awkward slow dance aside, she was having a lot of fun—but if he asked her out again before she left town, she doubted she’d say yes. It would feel too disingenuous.
“Hey, Amy.” Will’s voice was deliberately cheerful, but Sierra could still see the tension he was trying to mask. Using his size, he muscled his way between her and her scowling blond companion to hug her. And, Sierra guessed, to discreetly check if she was okay.
“Will!” Amy brought one arm up to hug him, stumbling forward as she did so. “And who’s this?” Even though she was holding a bottle of water and not a cocktail, her words were slurred.
“Sierra Bailey. Nice to meet y
ou.” Up close, the girl looked young, probably not even twenty-two yet. Judging by the lines on his face, the guy with her looked a few years older. Sierra definitely got a creepy vibe from him and could see why Will had been worried.
“So what are you two up to tonight?” Will said.
“We’re on a date,” the other man said, his tone clipped. “Which you’re interrupting.”
“Donavan.” Amy frowned at him, blinking her glazed eyes a couple of times. “Will’s my friend. Don’t be rude.”
“Didn’t mean to be rude, baby.” The man’s voice turned syrupy sweet, but there was no true affection in the way he looked at her. “I guess I just like having you all to myself.”
She tittered, smiling as if he’d said something romantic. “Will, you and I will have to catch up later. Nice to meet you, Sarah.”
Between the volume of the music and Amy’s less-than-alert state, Sierra didn’t bother correcting her. Instead, she just gave the younger woman a friendly nod.
Donavan took her hand, dragging her toward the floor. “Let’s dance, baby.”
As they disappeared into the Saturday-night mob, Will clenched his jaw. “I hate that guy. There are rumors about him selling illegal prescription drugs. I swear he’s given her something...” He stopped, shaking his head. “Sorry. I must win the worst-date-ever prize.”
“No, that would go to the guy with the toe fetish who made obscene comments about my feet three minutes into our first—and last—dinner together.” When he chuckled, she congratulated herself on making him smile again. He obviously had reason to worry about his friend. “Lots of people make questionable dating choices when they’re young. I bet she’ll wise up and kick him to the curb eventually.”
Will nodded absently. “I could use another drink. You?”
“I wouldn’t say no to an ice water.” At the bar, they ran into a couple of the ladies she’d met at the festival-committee lunch. While she was talking with them, a fellow fireman challenged Will to a game of darts.
When Kate tapped her on the shoulder and asked, “Where’s Will?” Sierra realized she hadn’t seen him in a while.
Falling for the Rancher Page 12