Micki shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. They were so faded that the blue was washed almost white in places. “Enough for two weeks. After September thirtieth, feeding the stock will be the problem of the corporation.” She swallowed and looked toward the bunkhouse. Eddie Rodrigues loaded a warn La-Z-Boy onto the back of a pickup. He was the last of the full-time hands to move.
“Where’s Eddie going?”
She kicked at a clump of dry dirt with her boot. “He got a job on a ranch somewhere south of Dallas with his cousin.”
He shook his head. “Eddie’s been here forever.”
“Yeah, I know. He didn’t want to go but didn’t really have a choice. Even though the new owners offered jobs, none of the hands applied for them. We all hate these faceless corporations that are buying up ranches and farms and destroying them.”
“Damn.” He cleared his throat and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. “Do we still have to vaccinate the cows?”
God, why couldn’t things have stayed as they were? “The cattle have to be counted and vaccinated by Wednesday. Eddie and I did about a hundred fifty of them yesterday.”
“That gives you less than a week to do the rest.” He paused and faced her. “We can start with those cows across the creek today.”
She kicked at the dusty gravel in the driveway with the toe of her worn boot and slapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go get something to eat first.” At the steps of the cottage, she turned to him, squinting into the bright morning sun to look up into his face. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know how I would’ve survived if I would’ve had to take care of this place on my own.”
Pink flared to life in the cheeks of his baby face, and his earlobes turned red. He looked at the ground and shrugged. “What are friends for if we don’t help each other out?”
* * * *
“Hello.” The soft and sleepy word sounded through Gabe’s cell and did all sorts of things to parts of him that had no business responding to anything Michaela Finn said.
“Hi, Michaela.” He shifted in the leather seat of the BMW convertible and cleared his throat of the gruffness. He must have strained his voice singing the last song during the concert tonight.
“About damned time you call me,” she snapped without preamble, and he smiled. Michaela always was a straight shooter.
When the light changed, he flipped on his turn signal and maneuvered into the driveway of the hotel. The streets of downtown Cheyenne were virtually deserted.
She yawned and didn’t bother hiding it from him. “It’s one thirty in the morning.”
He winced and slowed the rental car as he pulled into the parking garage of the luxury hotel where he and the band were staying. “Sorry it’s so late. I just listened to my messages.”
“Nice to see I rate in importance to you. I called at ten a.m. this morning.”
“I’m sorry. I was busy all day. My concert was tonight.”
He may have been busy, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about her. About the way she took care of Jesse and how right it all looked.
Or how much it would hurt her to lose him.
She sighed and her voice softened. “Actually, I probably would’ve missed your call anyway. I helped move cows all day.” He wanted to tell her not to worry so much about the cattle, but before he could speak, she asked, “Have you found out anything? How can we get Jesse back?”
He sucked in a breath and pulled the BMW into his parking space. “I have a plan, but it involves me adopting Jesse. Alone.”
A rustling and the soft creaking of bedsprings sounded over the line. From the buried past, an exhumed memory hit him as hard as a fist when the image of Micki in her bed and dressed in one of his T-shirts jumped to the front of his mind. How many times had he peeled the soft cotton from her body and kissed the tanned skin, tasting, teasing, until she’d begged him to take her? His groin jumped to life, and he had to concentrate on his plan.
Before he could tell her he’d bought the ranch and she wouldn’t have to move, she seethed, “How can you do this to me? I thought you believed the road wasn’t any place for a kid. Damn you, Gabe! You know I love him. Frankie would’ve wanted me to have him. You’re doing this to spite me, is that it?”
Why did she always have to assume he was trying to hurt her? Maybe he shouldn’t even try to keep her involved. Gritting his teeth and gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, he decided to stop trying. Even if he told her his plan, she’d refuse to be a part of it. She’d never take anything from him, and damn it, he was tired of being punished for leaving her. “My decision has nothing to do with you. He’s my brother, and I want to do what’s best for him.”
“That never mattered before! You hated my sister and your own father.”
In his mind, he saw her sitting in bed and clutching her cell phone. Looking sexy as hell with her long blond hair tumbling wild over her shoulders and her blue eyes fiery with anger.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to stop the erotic images. She’d never be his again, if she ever had been. The only person who mattered was Jesse. “Damn it, Michaela, I love him and I’ll do anything for him.”
“What kind of life can you give him, Gabe?”
Now, that was a million-dollar question. He turned the engine off and sat under the spotlights of the garage. As he stared at the concrete wall, he got his body under control but not the seething anger boiling his blood at her lack of faith in him. Reese was right. He didn’t need her to raise Jesse. Gabe loved him. He had a home and enough money to provide for him. What else did he need? Considering Michaela’s feelings had done nothing but cause him a shitload of grief, it was about time he started thinking about what was best for his brother. “A home. A good education. He’ll never want for anything.”
“I can give him those things as easily as you.”
“How? You refused to take me up on my offer to support him. Do you plan to use his inheritance?” He crossed the line with the accusation, but he didn’t give a goddamn. He’d had enough of her playing the martyr.
“I can’t believe you think I’d touch his money.” She was quiet for a moment, and he figured she was squaring her stubborn shoulders to blast him with some other crap. “I’m not going to deny things will be tough, but a lot of kids are raised in tough situations and do just fine. At least if he’s with me, I’d be the one raising him. Have you hired his nanny for when you’re partying with the latest slut? Or will you just pawn him off to the next bimbo you marry for advancement of your career?”
He’d wondered how long it would be before she brought up his ex-wife. Too wound up to hear Michaela’s thoughts about her, Gabe set his back teeth and hit the disconnect button.
With a frustrated push, the door opened and he climbed out of the sports car. Why had he told Michaela his plan to adopt Jesse? He should have known how the conversation was going to go to hell.
All she’d ever done was find fault in everything he did. Michaela thought he slept his way to the top. Hell, a lot of people thought that, especially after the release of the stink bomb that was his second album. So, why did her belief that he did cause a sharp pain in the middle of his forehead like someone was poking him with a penknife from the inside of his skull?
He made his way to the bank of elevators and pushed the up button.
The vision of moonlight shining through the window next to their bed in the bunkhouse and turning her skin silvery flashed before his eyes. In the pale light, he’d kissed his way from her firm breasts down her belly to the hot, wet, sweet place between her legs.
“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth and tapped the up key again. He dragged in a breath, glad no one was around to see the bulge he sported in his tight jeans. How could he have a hard-on for a woman who irritated the hell out of him?
Maybe he should find a woman and get himself laid. But he knew a meaningless
fuck with just anyone he wanted wouldn’t help. Hadn’t for a long time, if ever. He wanted one particular woman.
As the door slid open, he scowled and stepped in.
Hell would be enjoying snowball fights and the devil would be ice fishing on the River Styx before he’d ever touch Michaela Finn again.
Music blaring over a sound system greeted Gabe when he stepped off the elevator. Gritting his teeth, he rushed to the door of his luxury suite. He dug his key card out of his jeans pocket and opened the door, dreading what he’d find on the other side.
Scantily dressed women danced provocatively with his band members and the men of Gabe’s production crew in the living room. Alcohol freely flowed and cigarette smoke hung at the ceiling of his non-smoking room like a low ominous storm cloud.
“Isn’t this great?” Joel Horner, the bass guitar player in Gabe’s band, rushed over and flung an arm around Gabe’s shoulders. His long dark hair hung around his face, reminding Gabe of a hair band member from the eighties. Joel flashed a cocky grin. “You’ve been way too glum lately. So, we planned a little pick-you-up party.”
“Fuck.” Gabe gritted through clenched teeth and moved away from the one-time hard rock-turned-country musician. “What the hell?”
The last thing he wanted was a party in his posh hotel suite. His flight to Texas was scheduled to leave at six in the morning. All he wanted to do right now was crash for a few hours and try not to think about the woman he couldn’t have.
Or the little boy Gabe loved with all of his heart.
Joel straightened, affronted. “A party, man. Remember? You used to have ’em all the time. What the hell’s going on with you? You might have lost someone you’re close to. But, damn, man, tonight’s show was downright painful. You were like a robot out there. But this goes beyond that. You haven’t been yourself for months. The guys and me decided to remind you of the good old days. Ever since Gary came on the scene, you’ve changed.”
“I think you should remember where we were headed before Gary took us on.” Gabe shook his head and forced his hands to stay relaxed at his sides. He owed his best friend, Seth Kendall, for talking Gary into taking him on. Gary’s rules were strict, but under his management, Gabe’s career was bigger than even he’d ever dreamed. “I can’t afford to trash hotel rooms anymore.” What was wrong with him? He wasn’t a wet blanket, but he sure was acting and feeling like one. Why didn’t everyone go the hell home?
Two of his other band members watched the confrontation happening in the entry of Gabe’s suite. A woman approached wearing a short, shimmery tank dress. The top plunged deep to show off her ample cleavage and the hem stopped short to show off her muscular legs from her ankle to just an inch or two below her pussy. Her long blond hair hung to her waist in sexy curls, and her blue eyes were smoky and mysterious. If the sexy black dress and red fuck-me heels weren’t enough to let him know she hoped for more than an autograph from him, the pouty smile was seductive enough to assure there was no mistaking what she desired.
“Hello, Gabe.” The blonde held out a bottle of Corona and sidled up closer to him.
“We met in Vegas a little over a year ago?” Gabe asked. He took the beer and forced a smile as he lifted the Corona and drank.
“I think we did more than just meet. Three days of the best sex of my life is what I remember.” Her pouty smile turned purely seductive and her eyes burned with open lust as she ran her hand over his chest.
He shivered, but it had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with revulsion.
“I loved your show tonight.” Her husky voice dripped sex.
Gabe lowered the beer as recognition hit him. “Lydia?”
She raised a brow and shifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “My favorite song is ‘One Night Rodeo.’ The video is so hot.”
Which was code for I’d like to star in the X-rated version.
He had to get out of here. The last thing he needed was to get tangled up with Lydia Greenhow. He’d picked up the stripper after a show in Vegas. At the time, he’d thought she was a showgirl, which was bad but didn’t have quite the stigma a stripper had. Something the tabloids had reminded him of.
But hadn’t he been wishing for a willing woman? With her blond hair and blue eyes, he could almost pretend she was Michaela. Hell, wasn’t that what attracted him to her the last time they’d met? Maybe if he was drunk enough, he wouldn’t notice she could never match Michaela’s natural beauty. He would never be seen outside his hotel room with the woman, so the chance of the tabloids ever finding out was nonexistent.
He slipped his arm around the girl and moved her toward the couch. Leaning close, he sang the chorus of his latest single in her ear,
“The party’s over, you don’t have to go,
This cowboy’s not ready to go down,
So why don’t you stick around,
We’ll have ourselves a one night rodeo.”
She smiled and her hand slid down to cup his ass. “Hell, yeah.”
A member of his crew sat on the couch with a woman in his lap, but he got up and gave it up to his boss. Gabe winked his thanks and pulled Lydia across his lap. When she giggled, the shrillness went right through him, nearly ruining his determination to have fun--no matter how painful.
She put her hands on his shoulders, and his free hand landed on the curve of her hip. He turned his head and finished off the beer, watching her. “What are you doing in Cheyenne?”
“I grew up in a small town north of here.”
He lowered the empty bottle, remembering his last encounter with the woman. “Not working in Vegas anymore?”
She sipped her beer and her eyes slipped from his. “I had a baby six months ago. My mother wanted me to come home so she could help out with it. I plan to go back soon.”
A warning bell sounded in his head. “I take it the father isn’t in the picture.”
She met his gaze again and shrugged. “He doesn’t know and I want to keep it that way.” She straddled his thighs and leaned in. After nipping his ear, she whispered, “I’m ready anytime you are for that rodeo, cowboy.”
He couldn’t remember much of those three days with her, only Gary’s outrage afterward when Gabe’s picture with the stripper hit the tabloids. “I can think of plenty to do with a woman as pretty as you.”
She ran her fingernail over his jaw line, then slid her hand down his chest and over his abs. When she settled her palm over his groin, she stroked him through his tight jeans. Leaning in, she nipped his earlobe, her breath warm on the side of his face. “I’m so hot for you. I have a sudden urge to play cowgirl.”
He tried to find desire in her caress, but the sensation wasn’t arousing. “In a minute. Let’s have another drink.”
Her long, fake lashes veiled her eyes but not her disappointment. “Sure, whatever you want.”
Gabe shifted her hand from his groin. Despite his original intentions when bringing her to the couch, he suddenly hoped she’d get bored and leave him alone, but he couldn’t bring himself to make her go. “Let’s have a drink.”
Someone handed her a margarita and Gabe another Corona. He took a long draw on the beer before setting it on the table beside his empty bottle.
A hard rock song blasted from the speakers, and she moved to the beat in his lap, sloshing her drink all over the silk couch and him in the process. After tossing back what was left of it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and the lap dance got a lot more provocative. Her dress slipped up to reveal a red lace thong. As she pressed herself into him, he found it perplexing that just a memory of Michaela had him so hard his cock ached, but this woman did nothing for him.
“I want to fuck you all night long,” she whispered in his ear, then kissed him square on the mouth, surprising him. Before he could push her away, someone opened the door. Hotel security rushed in.
Chapter 6
The large white sign painted with black and red lettering situated by t
he gate of the Lazy M caused Gabe to stop the rental car and stare at it. Auction of Household Goods, October 1, everything must go.
A sold plaque over the realtor sign gave him another pause. He’d decided to buy the ranch on a whim. Now, he wasn’t so sure the way he’d gone about it had been a good decision. Michaela and Loretta, hell, even Tom Fleming should have been told of his ideas. Reese had convinced him total anonymity was the best way. Reese discovered through his contacts in Texas that Lemont only wanted the land to keep it out of Gabe’s hands, then hoped to sell it to a development company. To prevent him from going after the ranch more seriously, Reese created a dummy feedlot corporation to buy it for Gabe. He outbid Lemont by nearly two million dollars. When the old man didn’t counter the bid, Gabe knew he’d been right about Lemont’s intentions. He planned to buy the place, but instead of the money going to Jesse, it would end up back in Lemont’s pockets. The retired judge and oilman lived like a wealthy man, but was he as rich as he pretended to be?
He intended to hire Michaela as the manager and leave Jesse in her care while he was on the road after the adoption. She’d have guardianship of Jesse and together they’d raise him. But first, he had to tell her what his ideas were, before she did something like move off the ranch. Reese had neglected to tell him until that morning about Micki’s repeated phone calls asking for the head of the corporation to contact her.
He hated that Reese had to come up with such a ruse to trick Lemont Finn into thinking he’d won even if he lost the ranch. Gabe’s father may have been an SOB at times, but he loved his land and animals. The last thing he’d ever want was the Lazy M in the hands of a feedlot corporation. Michaela would never work for a feedlot. They went against everything she believed in.
But would she stay if she knew he’d bought the ranch? She’d been furious with him when he’d announced his decision to go after Jesse himself. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a deep breath. For any of his ideas to work, she had to stay on the ranch. He should have told her about that part of his plan first, then brought up his hope of adopting Jesse. The little boy was her hot button, and he pushed it last night.
Heartsong (Singing to the Heart Book 2) Page 6