What The Rancher Wants... (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Monroe, Lucy

  Grant laughed. “That’s what happens when you’re the best at what you do.”

  “Or at least in the top ten,” Win said with a smile.

  Grant nodded. “Well, Zoe’s at the pizza place. I saw your truck outside and decided to come in. I’d better not keep her waiting.”

  Grant turned to go, waiving a quick farewell over his shoulder to Carlene and Leah’s children.

  When Win turned around, Carlene was busy washing Shelly’s face and hands. Jared looked as if he could use a little help too. Win dipped another napkin in the water and went to work on his nephew.

  When he was finished, he asked Carlene, “You ready to go?”

  “Sure. We’d better get these two in bed soon.” She didn’t quite meet his eyes and he wondered what she was thinking.

  Was she regretting her earlier teasing? Did she think he would make her follow through on the offer she’d made in the courtyard before they left? The kids would be in bed soon, but he didn’t know what that was going to buy him.

  Sometimes the female mind was too complicated for a mere man to comprehend.

  Carlene tucked the blankets around Shelly and prayed that the little girl would sleep through the night.

  Leaning down to kiss the soft skin of Shelly’s cheek, Carlene said, “Goodnight, sweet girl.”

  Shelly smiled sleepily. “Goodnight, Miss Carlene.”

  Her eyes were closed before Carlene had turned to take Jared from Win’s arms. Win had changed the boy into pajamas and night-time underwear in case of accidents. Win shook his head at Carlene. “I’ll tuck him in.”

  She nodded and left the room. She hadn’t expected Win to give her such an easy escape after her earlier teasing, but she certainly wasn’t going to make things more difficult for herself by sticking around.

  The rumble of Win’s voice as he spoke to Jared trickled down the hall as Carlene made her way to her bedroom. She turned on the light and shut the door, relief flowing over her that she was saved from the confrontation over their relationship—at least for tonight.

  What had possessed her to tease Win as she had in the courtyard, and then later at the ice cream shop? She had been playing with fire and Win was right. If she didn’t watch it, she was going to end up good and burned. Kicking off her sandals, she headed to the bathroom to wash off her makeup and brush her teeth.

  Seeing Grant tonight had been a shock. She should have expected it. After all, he and Zoe lived on a ranch on the other side of Sunshine Springs. Carlene was bound to run into them once in a while. It wasn’t as if there were hard feelings between them either. She’d been invited to their wedding…and she’d gone. But seeing Grant while she was with Win had been disconcerting.

  It made her realize how much of a mistake she’d made with him.

  Unclipping her hair, she let it fall to her shoulders in a springy mass of dark curls. She finger-combed it, knowing the tight natural curls would just frizz out if she attempted to brush her hair out now that it was dry.

  She had tried straightening it once. Her mother had thought that doing so might give her a more staid appearance, a more acceptable appearance. Carlene had found the procedure and the results less than pleasant. As she finished detangling her hair with her fingers she realized that her mother might never accept her as she was. She looked in the mirror and conceded that after her parent’s refusal to stand by her during the problems she had faced back home, that was no longer as important as it once had been.

  However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t accept herself. Life was too complicated as it was without trying to be someone else.

  So, who was she?

  Was she the woman who had dressed in spandex miniskirts and tended bar at the Dry Gulch or was she the woman who wore her clothes loose and comfortable while tending house and cooking for Win Garrison?

  She moved back into her bedroom and took a fleeting glance at the woman in the mirror. Perhaps she wasn’t either of those women. Perhaps she was the woman standing before her, looking back from the mirror. A woman comfortable enough with her own body that she could wear clothes that enhanced her figure without needing to flamboyantly display every curve.

  One thing was certain, she wasn’t the woman who had donned her work gear and tried to seduce Grant Strickland. Her face heated at the memory. Grant had asked her out first. The date had ended in disaster when Zoe’s pet hamster had come running into the kitchen.

  Carlene had an unreasonable fear of rodents.

  The second date, if you could call it that, had been entirely her idea. Grant had stopped by the Dry Gulch with a dozen red roses and Carlene had assumed that meant he was interested in pursuing a relationship.

  Looking back, she couldn’t understand what had prompted her to act like a siren. The only explanation that she could think of was that for a month or two before Grant asked her out, she had become increasingly depressed and lonely, not to mention restless with her innocent and single status.

  Grant was the first man that she had any real interest in for so long that she went for it. She acted out the part she assumed he had been expecting when he asked her out, that of the seductress. She didn’t seduce him. She succeeded in humiliating herself and causing a rift between Grant and Zoe. In her own defense, she had not realized that the two had become a couple. They’d been friends so long, no one, including Carlene, thought they ever would.

  She didn’t think that mid-life crises occurred at twenty-six, but she didn’t have a better explanation for her behavior. It certainly bore no resemblance to her refusal to sleep with Win. It wasn’t as if she had asked Grant if he were interested in marriage either. So, why make such a big deal out of it with Win? Why refuse herself and Win the sensual relief they both craved because of their lack of a future? It wasn’t as if she’d been sure she could have a future with Grant Strickland.

  In a moment of stunning clarity she realized that although she had been attracted to Grant, she had been in no danger of falling in love with him. Their lack of a future hadn’t bothered her because she hadn’t necessarily wanted one with him, but she did with Win. She knew instinctively that if she gave herself to Win, she would be opening herself up to heartache beyond anything she had ever experienced—even the rejection of her parents.

  She plopped down onto the side of the bed, unable to accept what her heart was trying to tell her. She could not allow herself to love a man who believed the solution to life’s problems lay in a no strings attached, short term affair. She couldn’t.

  The only problem was that she had a horrible feeling that she already had.

  She was so overwhelmed by her thoughts that she only vaguely registered the knock on her door. It wasn’t until the door swung open and Win walked into the room that she forced her scattering thoughts back into a pattern she could identify.

  That pattern filled her with irritation.

  “Win! What do you think you are doing just walking into my room? I could have been getting dressed, or something.”

  His brow lifted in sardonic amusement. “Since we know the only ‘or something’ you are going to be engaging in will be with me and you are still decently covered, you might as well relax, honey.”

  She shot to her feet, channeling all her tumultuous thoughts into the safer venue of anger. “That’s not the point and you know it. I am your employee, not your wife, and I deserve some privacy.”

  His frown at the word wife only underscored the differences between them. “Listen, honey, right now you’re a woman that has me tied up in knots. I’m definitely not thinking of you as my employee.”

  She crossed her arms under her chest. “Well, maybe you should and save us both a lot of trouble.”

  He shook his head. “Uh uh. It isn’t going to work. You aren’t built anything like my other employees.”

  “Just what is that supposed to mean?”

  He made a placating gesture with his hand. “Calm down, Carlene. I didn’t come in here to start the next range war.”
<
br />   She harrumphed. “Then why did you come in here?”

  His sigh would have parted her hair if he were two feet closer. “I came to invite you to join me for a nightcap.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CARLENE’S eyes filled with shock. “A nightcap? You want me to come have a drink with you?”

  Her voice came out a high squeak and Win wondered why she sounded so disbelieving. She didn’t think he was going to let her get away with avoiding him for ever, did she? They had things to work out and that wasn’t going to happen with her hiding in her bedroom every time the kids were asleep.

  “I opened a bottle of wine and it’s waiting in the living room.” That should please her. Women thought wine was romantic. Given his choice, he would have preferred a nice glass of Macallan scotch on the rocks.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We both have to get up early and Shelly will probably wake up again in the middle of the night, needing to be rocked back to sleep. I don’t want to miss hearing her because I’ve anesthetized my brain with alcohol. We’ve just had ice cream. It isn’t a good idea to mix alcohol with a big sugar rush, I’m sure.” She talked so fast, she sounded like the auctioneer for the Cattleman’s Association annual fund-raiser.

  Maybe she thought if she said it fast enough, he wouldn’t find her excuses downright bizarre. He laughed out loud. “Honey, you’re being ridiculous. One glass of wine isn’t going to dull your senses to the point that you won’t hear Shelly if she wakes up. As for mixing sugar and alcohol—”

  She didn’t let him finish. “Never mind that. We both still have to get up early. I need my sleep. You said so this afternoon.”

  She stood next to her bed, her hair a wild mass around her shoulders, looking triumphant. She thought she’d made an iron-clad argument. He reached for her and hooked her wrist. If he didn’t get her out of the vicinity of her bed very soon, he’d be making his arguments with his body, not his mouth.

  “You can take a nap while the kids are sleeping again tomorrow, if you want. It’s not that late and I want some company,” he said as he pulled her from the room.

  “So, what you want is all that matters?” She lowered her voice as he pulled her past the kids’ door.

  He sighed with irritation as he pulled her down the stairs to the courtyard. She gave a low exclamation.

  He turned around. “What’s the matter?”

  She glared at him, her face illuminated by moonlight. “I stepped on something.”

  He looked down at her feet and realized for the first time that she’d already taken off her shoes. If he’d waited a few more minutes to come to her room, there was a strong possibility he would have found her already undressed. The thought was too damned tempting to contemplate for very long. He swung her up into his arms. This time instead of fighting him, she put her arms around his neck and held on.

  He liked this way a whole lot better.

  He carried her through the courtyard into the living room and reluctantly let her go. Turning to the tray he had brought in before going to get Carlene, he asked, “Wine okay?”

  “I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t throw me over you shoulder and carry me in here like a sack of potatoes again,” she said, her feisty nature asserting itself.

  He remained silent, waiting for an answer to his earlier question.

  She sighed. “Wine is fine.”

  He poured the golden liquid into a wineglass and handed it to her. “Let’s get something straight. I didn’t carry you like a sack of potatoes last time and I sure as certain didn’t put you over my shoulder. Got that?”

  She looked taken aback by his vehemence. Too bad. He was tired of everybody and his mother telling him he’d manhandled her. She’d been a whole lot more squirmy on the first trip through the courtyard in his arms, but she had in no way resembled a sack of potatoes.

  “Got it,” she said.

  “Good. Now, drink your wine.”

  She sat down in an overstuffed chair that matched the leather sofa. Her choice amused him. Did she think if she sat on the couch, he’d seduce her? Even funnier, did she believe that sitting in a chair was going to stop him? He poured himself a glass of wine and sat on the sofa where it rested kitty corner to her chair. He stretched his legs out in front of him. She shifted hers a few inches to the left so they wouldn’t touch.

  Taking a sip of her wine, she looked at him over the rim of her glass. “Did anyone ever tell you that charm is not your strong suit?”

  He felt a slow smile grow on his face. The woman sure could put her tongue to good use. “Now that you mention it, Leah has said something a time or two about my lack of tact.”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose that doesn’t bother you?”

  The question surprised him. “What?”

  “Having others think less of you.”

  “My sister doesn’t think less of me because I don’t attend to every social nicety.”

  Carlene’s gaze traveled around the room before coming back to settle on him. “No, I don’t suppose she does.”

  They were both silent for a minute.

  “It bothers me, you know,” she said.

  “What bothers you?” he asked. Her pensive mood confused him after her earlier nervousness, but he wasn’t going to discourage it. Maybe he’d finally get the answers about her past that he’d been wanting.

  “Having others think less of me. Having them believe the worst of me, particularly those I care about and respect.”

  “Who thought the worst of you, honey?”

  Her eyes focused on something that he could not see. Perhaps the past. “When I graduated from high school, I knew just what I wanted, to be a teacher. So, I took an accelerated masters program. I was twenty-three when I finished my practicum and got my first real job teaching. I was offered a position at the high school near my hometown.” She let out a long breath. “Maybe I was too young to teach high school, too close to the kids in age. I don’t know.”

  The image of Carlene teaching fit his view of her a whole lot better than her working at the Dry Gulch. Despite the fact she was working as his housekeeper, he wasn’t really surprised by her true profession. He wanted to know why she wasn’t teaching now, though.

  When she didn’t go on, he asked an innocuous question he hoped would open her up further. “What did you teach?”

  For a moment, her concentration returned to him. “English Lit.”

  He took a sip of his wine. It wasn’t that bad. “Not my favorite subject.”

  She smiled, her expression indulgent. “I understand. It isn’t everybody’s, but I loved it. I still do.”

  “What happened?” Something pretty serious for her to end up his housekeeper, cook and nanny.

  An expression of pain flitted across her face as her eyes lost focus again. “The first year was great. I established a strong rapport with my students and the rest of the faculty seemed to like me.”

  “The second year things changed?” he guessed.

  “Yes. Our principal retired. The new one the district hired was really different. His methods and attitudes didn’t mesh with my own. We had a few dust-ups, but nothing I couldn’t handle until he decided that I would make a good after-school buddy.”

  Fury washed through Win before he had a chance to fully digest her words. “He made a pass at you?”

  “You could say that. He was much too smart to do anything for which I could accuse him of sexual harassment. He made several innuendos, brushed up against me when we passed in the halls, things like that.”

  “The bastard.”

  She took a long drink of her wine and then wiped the back of her mouth with her hand. “My sentiments exactly. The worst part was that he was married to one of the sweetest women I’d ever met. It made everything ten times worse. Finally, one day he made a comment that I couldn’t ignore and I let him know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t interested.”

  “Like you did with Lonny?” He could
just see the resulting scandal if the English Lit teacher got caught punching the principal of the local high school.

  She smiled ruefully. “Not that drastic, but he got the picture. Things got worse after that. He questioned my decisions, dropped in unannounced on my classes. He said he was checking up on me, making sure there were no discipline problems. All of a sudden he had a problem with a single woman my age teaching high school. I still thought I could handle it. I was such a fool.”

  The defeat and self-condemnation in her voice touched a chord deep inside him. He knew what it meant to play the part of the fool. “What happened?”

  “I had the star quarterback in my third-period class. He was a smart boy, but he skimmed on his work. I made the mistake of grading him according to the work he turned in to my class and not on his football-playing ability.”

  Win had heard stories of teachers being forced to alter grades for star athletes. “You tried to flunk him?”

  “He failed one assignment. With his other low grades, that put his playing for the school team at risk.” She crossed one green-denim-clad leg over the other. “The principal tried to get me to give him a passing grade.”

  He thought he knew what was coming. “You wouldn’t back down.”

  “No.” The single word said it all. Carlene wouldn’t lie for anyone. Her personal code of honor was too high.

  “So, they removed him from your class?”

  She gave a short bitter laugh. “If only it had been that easy. The student filed a harassment charge against me. He said I’d made a play for him and flunked him when he refused to have anything to do with me.”

  Cold anger surged through Win. If that lying little weasel had been within spitting distance, Win would have made sure he wasn’t up to playing quarterback for a very long time, if ever.

  Unaware of the rage pulsing through him, Carlene went on. “It was ridiculous and I didn’t take it very seriously at first. I assumed no one would believe him. I was wrong.”