Wild West Fortune

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  “I was frustrated.” On more than one level. “That doesn’t mean you have to get somebody to drive all the way from Austin to take you home.”

  “Well, I’m not going to ask you or Nathan to do it,” she muttered. “You’ve already got enough on your plate as it is. You haven’t even had a chance to do your own repairs around here except for boarding up the broken windows.”

  He couldn’t argue with her on that score.

  She nudged Sugar off her lap and stood. She was wearing her jeans and that skin-hugging camisole that showed off her sleekly toned shoulders and full breasts. But it was the wide brown eyes she trained on him that caused the knot in his gut.

  “I can’t pretend I don’t have an interest in all things Fortune,” she said. “But as long as I’m stuck here, I promise not to bring it up again. Not in any way. That’s what I was trying to tell you before your phone rang.”

  “That’s what you were trying to say?”

  She huffed. “Next time I want to say something important, I’ll send you a letter.”

  “What?”

  She lifted her arms to her sides. “I’m better on paper!” She dropped her arms. “So can we call a truce or not? Because if not, maybe Nathan could drop me off at the Ybarras’ and I can camp out with them.”

  “Nathan can do what, now?” The brother in question had come around the corner of the house, bearing a couple of sawhorses over his shoulder. He looked at Jayden. “Thought you wanted to get started on the windows.”

  “I do.” It had only been a couple of days but he was already sick of feeling penned in in his own dark bedroom. It reminded him too much of sleeping in army barracks.

  He looked at Ariana again and wondered when he would manage to stop feeling his gut tighten every time she blinked those brown eyes at him, or if he was going to be plagued by the problem until she left for good.

  “You’re not going to go camp out with the Ybarras, or anyone else, for that matter.” He knew all the irritation he felt came through loud and clear. Particularly when Nathan shot him a sideways look. “Just...just go find something else to put on.”

  Her cheeks turned red. He wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or fury.

  But she ducked her head and rushed past him, slamming the door so hard after her that the windowpanes in it shook.

  So, fury then.

  “I see you still have the magic touch when it comes to the ladies,” Nathan drawled. “Ever thought about giving classes?”

  “Shut up.”

  His brother chuckled as he set down the sawhorses and walked away. He was still shaking his head when he returned with the toolbox and power drill. “Well? You just gonna stand there, or are you going to give me some help here?”

  “I hate having brothers,” Jayden muttered.

  Nathan wasn’t fazed. He just held out the power drill toward Jayden. “Preaching to the choir, bro.”

  He grabbed the tool and stomped down the front steps and around to the plywood they’d fastened over their mother’s bedroom window. He attacked the screws while Nathan set up the sawhorses and got the rest of the supplies ready for the first windowpane.

  Then the two of them lifted the plywood away from the window.

  Ariana was on the other side, sitting on the foot of the bed watching.

  Obviously waiting.

  Not only had she pulled on one of her virulent Paseo Is Paradise shirts, but she’d topped it with that artsy sweater she’d been wearing when they’d met.

  “Is this better?” Her tone was dulcet.

  A more god-awful combination of colors had never existed.

  The base of his spine still tingled. His gut still tightened.

  “It’ll do.” He slammed his hat harder on his head. At least he didn’t have her hard little button nipples staring at him through that sleeveless excuse for a shirt. “Do you want to see how this is done or not?”

  She stood. Her eyes were practically shooting sparks, but the smile on her face was demure. “How could I resist such a charming invitation?” She turned with a flip of hair and left the bedroom.

  “She’s gonna get heatstroke wearing that sweater this afternoon,” Nathan warned conversationally. He laid the plywood on the horses, giving them a flat surface to work on, and then turned back to start removing the window sash. It was a large window. Even though it meant a little more prep work, glazing the window flat would be easier than doing it with the sash still in place. “Guess if she passes out, you’ll have a reason to try mouth-to-mouth.”

  It would be about the only reason she’d let his mouth get close to hers again, Jayden figured. Not that he appreciated his brother’s dig. “When did you get to be such a chatty Cathy?”

  Nathan didn’t answer. He just smiled slightly at Ariana when she joined them. She’d pulled off her sweater before coming outdoors and she had her cell phone in her hand.

  “Don’t mind if I take a few pictures, do you?”

  “Gonna write an article about home DIY projects?” Better that than some damn thing suggesting his mother had once been one of Gerald Robinson’s playthings.

  It made his blood boil every time he considered the possibility. The unlikely, ridiculous possibility.

  “A DIY article could come out of this. You never know.” Ariana had moved around to the other side of the sawhorses, as if she wanted to keep a physical separation between them.

  Or maybe he was letting his imagination go berserk and she simply wanted to stand in the shade afforded by the Texas Ash that his mom had planted several years ago.

  “So, Nathan,” she said with annoying cheer. “Tell me about yourself. Jayden said you were in the navy. A SEAL. Was that as exciting as it sounds?”

  “Don’t go asking my brother a bunch of questions.”

  Ariana gave him a wide-eyed look. “I’m sorry, Jayden. Are all questions off-limits? I didn’t realize.” She looked back at Nathan and gave an apologetic shrug. “Clearly even navy SEALs need protection from me.”

  Berserk was right. “Dammit, Ariana—”

  “Okay, kids.” Nathan set the putty knife and screwdriver he’d been using on the makeshift plywood table. “Choose your weapons. I’m outta here.” He strode off.

  Ariana’s lashes swept down, hiding her expression. She pushed her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

  Jayden yanked off his straw hat and swiped the sweat from his brow. He was letting good air-conditioning literally blow right out his mother’s window.

  “Ever been on a horse?”

  Her lashes lifted. “Sorry?”

  “Horse. You know. Long nose. Four hooves. Sometimes wears a saddle. A real one.”

  “I know what a horse is, thank you.”

  “So? You know how to ride or don’t you?”

  “No, I do not know how to ride.”

  “You don’t swim. You don’t ride. And you call yourself a Texan?”

  Her chin went up a notch. “Not all Texans grow up on ranches or around horses.”

  “That’s true. And you’re a city girl if ever there was one.” One who changed into cocktail dresses inside her car whenever the need arose.

  “I’m not going to apologize for the way I grew up, if that’s what you’re expecting. Just because you’re spoiling for a fight—”

  “I’m not spoiling for a fight.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “Dammit, I want you!”

  The bright color faded from her cheeks, making her eyes look even darker brown. A swallow worked down her long, slender throat, as if she was bracing herself for what she was about to say.

  “I want you, too.” Her voice was husky when she finally broke the ringing silence. “But I can’t change anything. I can’t change the fact that I’ve written nea
rly a half-dozen articles in my ‘Becoming a Fortune’ series. I can’t change the—” She broke off and twisted her fingertips through her hair, drawing it off her face and neck. “I can’t change anything.”

  “I can’t change the fact that my mother chose Fortune for our names.”

  “If she’d chosen Smith, things would’ve been a lot simpler, that’s for sure. I’d just be me. You’d just be you. And—”

  He almost felt a click inside his head because it suddenly seemed so simple.

  He stepped forward, shoving out his hand. “Jayden Smith, rancher. Nice t’ meet you.”

  Her lips parted. Those mesmerizing eyes of hers softened.

  Then she stepped forward also and slowly placed her hand in his. “Ariana Lamonte, writer. Nice to meet you, too.”

  He tightened his grip, fighting the impulse to draw her closer and nearly losing. But then he heard Sugar barking and he let go of Ariana’s hand.

  He gestured at the window. “Since we ran off the big, brave SEAL, first thing to do is get the sash out.”

  Her eyes clung to his for a moment. Then she suddenly rubbed her hands down her thighs, as if she, too, had made a decision. “Tell me what to do to help.”

  So he did.

  And he quickly learned that whatever Ariana lacked in knowledge, she more than made up for in willingness.

  Soon, he had the sash removed and laid out on the plywood. He and Nathan had cleared all the broken glass before they’d boarded it up with plywood. But there was still old glazing to clean away from the wood and Ariana attacked it with fervor. Once she’d scraped one section clean, he sanded it down to bare wood. When they were done, he brushed on a fresh coat of primer.

  “The window sash looks practically brand-new,” she said when he finished cleaning his paintbrush. “So now what? We put the glass in the grooves?”

  “Putty first. Then the glass. But the primer needs to dry before we can putty.” Which would only take a few hours, considering the heat. “Time for lunch.”

  She didn’t argue.

  When they went inside, the temperature was cool and comfortable. He went upstairs to wash up first, but when he got back down to the kitchen, she’d already assembled sandwiches and had them grilling on the stove.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” She gestured at the frying pan with the slotted metal spatula in her hand.

  “Toasted ham and cheese? What’s to mind?” He filled a water glass and chugged it, then filled it again and took it with him to the table and sat down, watching her. The only woman he could remember ever cooking in this kitchen was his mother. “You know how to cook anything else?”

  “A few things.”

  He nodded toward the coffeepot that was sitting on the rear burner. “You made a huge improvement over Nathan.”

  “If his coffee is so bad, why don’t you just make it yourself?”

  “Because even his bad coffee is better than having to do it myself.” He grinned faintly. “Gotta have something to complain about.”

  Her lips twitched. “Well, that’s honest, I guess.” She flipped one sandwich, then the other. She glanced at him and then away. “I could do the cooking for you guys.” Her suggestion sounded diffident. “You know. If I’m going to stay here. At least then I’d actually feel like I’m doing you a service in exchange for—” she waved the tip of the spatula in the air “—the roof over my head and all.”

  “There’s no if about it. So is that what cleaning the bathroom upstairs was all about?”

  She looked surprised.

  “I’m not such a slob that I don’t appreciate a clean bathroom mirror when one magically appears.”

  “You’re not a slob at all.” She lifted her shoulder and Paseo Is Paradise shifted softly. “For two men living on their own, this place is surprisingly tidy.”

  He was a grown man. He knew that openly staring at a woman’s chest was against the rules of common politeness. But it was damn hard when he also knew the only thing beneath Ariana’s ugly shirt was some seriously beautiful flesh.

  “You forget,” he said a little absently. “Nate and I were both military. Order is the rule. Grayson, now?” He shook his head. “He’s another story.”

  “Speaking of the military—” She peeked at the bottom of one sandwich and turned off the gas flame. “And assuming this isn’t an off-limits topic, after fifteen years of service, why get out?” She transferred the sandwiches to two plates, sliced them quickly in half and carried them to the table. “Why come back to this place when you’d been so anxious to leave it when you were young? Were you just burned out or what?”

  “The woman I was sleeping with was engaged to my master sergeant. My boss,” he translated. He wasn’t sure whom he’d surprised more with the admission. He wished he could retract it, but it was already too late.

  “He found out?” Her brows pulled together and she almost looked outraged. “Did he make you quit?”

  “No.” He bit into the crispy sandwich. Ariana had browned it perfectly. “I found out. You wouldn’t think a thing like that could be kept secret so easily, but you’d be wrong.” Especially on an installation where the population easily exceeded twenty thousand. “I’ve done a lot of things, but I don’t mess around with another man’s woman. Not knowingly, anyway. And I damn sure don’t forgive a woman lying to me like that.”

  “Couldn’t you have sought a reassignment? I mean, after all those years in the army, to just give it up—”

  “I didn’t give it up because of Tess. She was just the final straw. I gave it up because I knew I was never going to get any further.” He rubbed his jaw. “Eventually, even in the army, there’s a game to getting advanced and I didn’t particularly like the rules.” He gave her a twisted smile and the same excuse he’d given his mother when he’d shown up on the doorstep two years ago. “Besides, I was sick of wearing the uniform.”

  “I’m sorry.” She reached across the table and lightly touched his hand. Just for a moment, before sitting back and snatching up her sandwich. “Not about the army. If you were ready for a change, you were ready. But it still can’t have been easy.”

  “Easier than considering proposing to a woman only to learn she’s already got another man’s ring on her finger.” What the hell was wrong with him? One compassionate look from Ariana and he was totally spilling his guts.

  Her sandwich paused halfway to her mouth. “So it was more than just sleeping with her. You loved her.”

  He’d thought he had. He and Tess had been together for more than a year before she’d confessed the truth. But even from the first, Jayden couldn’t remember her affecting him as easily as a single glance from Ariana could.

  He was no stranger to lust. But that was controllable. And nothing had felt particularly controllable these last few days. Add to that the fact that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about details he hadn’t even shared with his own family?

  Hell. Maybe he wasn’t berserk. Maybe he was having a damn midlife crisis.

  “Are you still in love with her?” Ariana had set her sandwich back on her plate. She was looking down at it, picking tiny pieces off the corner.

  “No.” He could see that now, with a clarity he hadn’t possessed even two weeks ago.

  She got up from the table suddenly, but only to open the kitchen door and let Sugar inside. “You said you brought Sugar home from Germany?”

  “She belonged to Tess’s fiancé.” He held out his palm and the dog nuzzled against it. “He never took good enough care of her.”

  “Tess or Sugar?”

  “I came home with Sugar, didn’t I?”

  She smiled faintly.

  She hadn’t sat back down at the table and he moved his hand from Sugar to Ariana’s hip. Then he slid his hand around to the small of her back, pulling her toward him
.

  She didn’t resist.

  He pressed his forehead against her chest, and after a moment, he felt her fingers sliding through his hair. She leaned over him slightly, and he felt engulfed by her warmth.

  “Sex is off the table,” she whispered.

  “Okay.” He slid his other arm behind her. His palms fit perfectly over the curve of her rear.

  She shifted and curled her arms even more around his head. “I mean it, Jayden.”

  “Okay.” He was so hard, he hurt. But he still turned his head slightly, feeling the soft give of her warm flesh beneath her shirt.

  She made a low sound as she flexed her fingers against his head. “You’re killing me.”

  “Tell me about it,” he said darkly. Ironically.

  She exhaled. He felt it in the faint sway of her breasts against him as she lowered her head toward his.

  “I ache,” she whispered near his ear. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  His comment had only been sarcasm. Directed squarely at himself. He hadn’t expected her to take it literally.

  She ran her hand along his arm, circling his wrist with her fingers and pulling his all-too-willing hand around to the front of her. “Here.” She pressed his palm against her belly. Then she pushed it even lower, right at the juncture of her thighs. “Here,” she breathed.

  He nearly ground his teeth together, fighting the urge to push her back on the kitchen table right then and there.

  Instead, he let go of her like he’d been burned and shoved his chair so hard, it slid back more than a foot.

  Her dark, dark eyes were fastened hungrily on his face. Rosy color rode her high cheekbones. And her pointed little nipples were clearly stabbing through her shirt.

  He pointed at her. “You said sex was off the table.”

  “You said okay,” she retorted swiftly, jabbing a finger in the air right back at him. “You don’t get to pull out all the seduction stops and expect me not to give it right back to you!”

  He nearly choked. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. He wasn’t sure about much of anything except that she had him twisted in knots. She had since the tornado.