by Jennie Marts
She scooted closer to him, her arms still raised. He wrapped the belt around her waist, his long fingers moving treacherously close to her danger zone.
He liked the way she caught her breath, and her eyes went soft and sexy. Resting his hands on her hips, he regarded her for a moment.
She looked up at him, and he couldn’t quite read what was in her green eyes. It felt almost like an invitation. Her lips parted and for an instant, he considered leaning down and kissing her. Taking that perfect little mouth with his. It’d be so easy.
He imagined pressing her against the truck, lifting her to draw those bare legs around his waist and laying claim to her lush curves. His hands itched to touch her, to run his thumb along her chin and draw her mouth to his. The scent of her shampoo enveloped him as he dipped his head slightly, eyeing her with a cross between a question and a dare.
Bark! Bark!
The moment was broken by the yap of the dog. Bagel was clawing at the half-open window, desperate to get out of the car and greet Wade.
“Bagel, stop barking,” Reese called to the dog. She shrugged. “Sorry, I hate to keep him cooped up in the car, but I didn’t want to leave him at the bed and breakfast.”
“I might have something to help with that.” Dropping his hands, he reached into the bed of the pickup and lifted out a small wagon lined with a cream-colored sheepskin blanket. A small water dish was wired to the corner of the wagon. “I made this for the little guy so he could sit outside with us and not be contained to a crate. Plus he wouldn’t get hot in the car that way.”
Reese’s hands covered her mouth as she gaped at the little wagon. “I can’t believe you did this. This is so nice.” A spark lit her eyes. “Let’s try it out.”
Racing to the car, she gingerly lifted Bagel from the front seat and set his chubby body down into the wagon, tucking his injured leg under him. “It’s perfect.”
She beamed at Wade, her bright smile making him feel like a hero. All he’d done was make a little dog cart.
Yet he practically tingled with pride as she threw her arms around his neck and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
With her glowing at him like he’d just hung the moon and the way she was pressed against him, other things were starting to tingle, too.
What was this woman doing to him? All he could think about was laying her down in the tall grass and showing her what other things he could do with his hands. He needed to get this under control, and quick.
Clearing his throat, he unclasped her hands from his neck. “Well, you better get started. I don’t have time to stand around here all day.”
He pointed to the burned-out remains of the outhouse as she wheeled the dog over in the cart. “You’re gonna need to start by tearing down the rest of that burned-up frame. Get everything cleared away until all you’re left with is the concrete slab. Then you can start to rebuild on the slab.”
“Got it.” She nodded and went to work.
“You can pile it all up over here, and I’ll have maintenance pick it up later.” He headed for his truck. “I’ll come back to check on you around lunchtime.”
“Lunchtime?” Her face wore a bewildered expression, and she looked around as if searching for a fast food restaurant. “I didn’t even think about lunch. Hey, wait. You’re not staying? You’re not going to help?”
“Nope. I’m just the supervisor.” He chuckled and pulled a shovel and broom from the back of his truck. He laid them on the ground for Reese to use. “But Gram packed me a lunch big enough for four people so I’ll be back around noon with some food. You’re burning daylight, girl. You better get to it.”
…
What nerve. Reese watched Wade’s truck drive off leaving her in a cloud of dust and frustration.
Not only was he immune to her suggestive advances, he didn’t even want to stick around to keep her company. She’d practically thrown herself at him, landing in his arms two different times, and he’d done nothing.
She’d been sure she’d seen a glimmer of arousal in his eye, but he hadn’t taken the bait. Maybe he had a girlfriend or liked to take things slow. She’d planned on getting to know him as they’d worked together this morning. To figure out what made him tick. And what it would take to get under his skin—and under the sheets of his bed.
Ranger Wade had invaded her dreams last night, filling her head with erotic fantasies of him climbing in the tub with her and soaping up her dirty parts. She’d awoken to a mess of tangled sheets and a frustrated desire to get into the head and arms of the hot park ranger.
He hadn’t exactly rebuffed her subtle advances, he just hadn’t taken advantage of them. Or her. Maybe she needed to up her game. But how could she do that if he wasn’t even around?
She hadn’t dreamed that he would really let her do this all by herself. She stared at the wreckage of the little building. How the heck was she supposed to tear the rest of that thing down?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, showing her dad’s number. She’d called the office this morning and got her calendar covered, then left him a message explaining that she needed to take a few weeks off to clear her head. No reason to get him involved in this.
She’d made this mess, and she could clean it up. And what a mess it was. Letting loose a sigh, she dug through the box of tools, grabbed a hammer, and set to work.
Two hours later, the sound of a truck engine signaled Wade’s return, and she stopped to survey what she’d completed. A large pile of scorched wood lay next to the parking lot, and she’d just finished sweeping off the concrete slab.
She winced at the fiery blisters bubbling on her palms and knew she must look a sight covered in soot and dirt from the boards. Her ponytailed hair was damp with sweat, but she felt good, like she’d really accomplished something.
Wade set a battered red cooler on the ground and surveyed her work. He looked surprised at all she’d finished. “Dang, girl. You’ve really been working. I didn’t think you’d have half of this done. Good job.”
He handed her an icy bottle of water, and she cringed as it touched her blistered hands. Wade frowned and pulled her hand to him. “Geez, look at your hands. Why didn’t you wear gloves?”
She shrugged, not wanting to pull her hand out of his hold. “Hank didn’t sell me any.”
“The guy sold you an electric nail gun, but didn’t get you any gloves? What a knucklehead.” He strode to his truck, returning a minute later with a soft pair of leather gloves. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to leave these with you earlier. I’ve got a little first-aid kit in my truck. I’ll get you fixed up after lunch. You hungry?”
Her stomach growled at the mention of food. “Starving. I hope Miss Abigail packed a side of beef in that cooler. Although I don’t know what that would leave you to eat.”
He laughed, and the sound of it carried into her soul. Something about that deep chuckle had her insides doing a little flip.
She liked the easy way she could make him laugh and that he cared about her blistered hands. She adored that he was pouring more water into the dish for her dog to drink.
This guy might just be one of the good ones that she was always hearing about. He certainly looked good. Forget food, she could have Ranger Wade for lunch. And dinner.
Her stomach growled again. Okay, maybe forgetting food was a bad idea, but at least she would have a nice view while she ate.
Wade patted the stack of lumber next to him and handed her a sandwich as she sat down. He set out bags of chips, pickles, and cold soft drinks. Her mouth watered at the thick slices of roast beef and cheddar on a homemade roll, and she dug into the lunch as if she hadn’t seen food in days.
Her phone buzzed again, bouncing on the planks of lumber where she’d set it earlier.
Wade watched her ignore the call then checked out the display. “Six missed calls from the CEO. Seems like your boss really wants to get ahold of you.”
She sighed. “I left him a message that I won’t be in for the next two we
eks, and I’m not quite ready to tell him why.”
“And the CEO cares if you take vacation days?”
“He does if he’s your father.”
“Ah. You work for your dad.” He said the statement with a hint of disdain as if he’d just caught her stealing money from a tip jar.
A flicker of shame heated her cheeks. “I know. Pretty pathetic, huh?”
“No, I didn’t mean that.” At least he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Not if you like your job, I guess. What do you do?”
“I’m a financial planner.”
“And do you enjoy it?”
“Not even one little bit.” She plucked a chip from the bag and popped it in her mouth. “In fact, I pretty much hate that stinking job. I would rather be here, hauling away rubble and earning blisters the size of Texas than be at that job.”
He laughed. “Then why don’t you quit if you hate it that much? Do something else.”
“Do we need to go back to that little part about my dad owning the company?”
Suddenly the taste of the chip went flat on her tongue, and she took a sip of soda to wash it down. “If I quit, I’d be letting my father down.”
“Not if it were to do something you loved. Plenty of kids grow up to leave the family business. Is there something else you’d rather be doing? Why don’t you just tell him you want to do a different job?”
This time it was her turn to laugh. “Yeah, right. I tried that once. When I first started college, I wanted to get a degree in journalism. I tried to tell my dad that I wanted to be a writer. And he laughed it off, like it was a big joke. Told me writing was a hobby that I could certainly pursue in my free time, but he’d already changed my field of study and sent my application to the School of Business where I would get a real degree in a field that would actually earn some money.”
“Your dad sounds like a real piece of work.” Wade tossed Bagel the last scrap of his sandwich. “So are you still writing?”
Images of the stacks of notebooks she had crammed with stories and plot ideas filled her head. Notebooks hidden in a chest at the foot of her bed. “I used to. All the time. I’ve even written a couple of books.”
“Impressive. The most I’ve ever written is a grocery list. I think that’s cool. Did you try to get them published?”
Her cheeks warmed at the compliment and the encouraging words about her work. “No. I thought about it though. I really loved writing.”
“Then why’d you stop?”
Why had she stopped?
Writing was her passion, something she truly loved. But with work and Brock, there never seemed to be enough time.
She’d mentioned her writing to Brock once and received the same contemptuous response she’d gotten from her father. It just wasn’t worth the hassle. It was easier to put her notebooks away and concentrate on her job at the company. “I guess my time got filled with other things.”
Wade studied her face, and it was as if he could see right through her.
She squirmed under his gaze. “What?”
He shrugged. “You just looked so sad when you told me you don’t write anymore. It seems to me if you love something that much and it makes you happy, then who cares what other people think, you find a way to do it. Why are you letting other people get in the way of your dreams?”
He had a point. Wasn’t that the whole reason she’d broken up with Brock, to take control of her life? To do what she wanted and not spend all of her time trying to please everyone else. “You’re right. Writing does make me happy. And I have this great idea for a book that’s been bouncing around in my head for years.”
“Well, there you go. Just remember me when you’re rich and famous.”
Yeah, like she was about to forget the hunky guy who landed her in jail and saw her naked in the same day. Except she’d been unconscious when she’d been naked so she didn’t even get to enjoy it.
She grinned. “Now that we’ve solved all of my problems, let’s work on yours. What can I do to help you with your troubles, Mr. Ranger?”
His eyes darkened, and a scowl crossed his face. “My troubles started with someone telling me a story, and they’re not something you’d be able to fix, or even understand.” He packed the rest of the trash into the cooler. “We better get back to work.”
He tossed the cooler back in the truck, leaving her to wonder what she’d said wrong. They’d been laughing and joking around and then suddenly his mood shifted, as if he’d flipped a switch. Something about her set him off. And not in a good way.
Which made her even more resolved to figure out what was going on. One minute he looked at her as if he wanted to kiss her senseless, the next his gaze held contempt. And she was determined to find out why.
…
He couldn’t take it anymore. After forty minutes of watching her clumsily lay out boards, thumb through her pages of instructions, and fail miserably at hammering a nail, he couldn’t stand by and watch for one more minute.
Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the view of her bending and stretching as she moved boards around and tried to lay out the frame. The woman had amazing legs, and all the right things jiggled when she swung the hammer. The tool belt he’d given her rode low on her hips and swayed as she walked past him.
A few times he’d thought she’d almost been adding a little extra sway when she’d sauntered past, bending to pick up a tool from the box, and he wondered if she were purposely putting on a show for his benefit. But why?
What purpose would she serve by getting a poor country boy all riled up when he was sure she could have rich men in the city bending to her every beck and call?
What did it matter? She was only here for a few weeks, then she’d be gone. Might as well enjoy the performance while he could. And he had a front row seat.
The scent of Reese’s perfume wafted to him on the warm summer air, and that was it. “All right. I’ll help you.”
Her head snapped up, and he thought he saw a shimmer of relief in her eyes. Then she shook her head. “It’s okay. I think I’ve almost got it figured out.”
“You don’t even have the measurements figured out yet.” He grabbed his toolbox from the truck and instructed her to stand at one end of the concrete slab. Handing her the end of a tape measure, he measured and recorded the figures they would need to build the frame.
Patting the seat next to him at the picnic table, he drew up a quick sketch of the frame and added the measurements in. “We need to start from the ground up and build the frame. I don’t know what you were doing over there, but you haven’t even measured one thing.”
She glanced at the disheveled pile of lumber on the slab. “I was eye-balling it.”
He laughed. “Well, you might need a new pair of glasses, ’cause your eyeballs are sorely out of whack.”
“All right, Mr. Handy Man, then show me how it’s done.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, wondering if she really meant the double entendre. He could show her how a lot of things are done, and he was quite handy.
In fact, he’d like to get his hands on her right now.
Geez, get it under control, man. If he kept thinking like that, he’d be adding extra wood to the already extensive pile they had. “Why don’t you grab one of those two-by-fours? We can set it on the end of the table here, and I’ll get it cut.”
Using a hand saw, he cut the boards to the correct lengths, and they laid them out in a square on the concrete slab.
A grin covered her face as she pushed the boards together. “Hey look, a perfect fit.”
“My grandpa taught me to measure twice, cut once.” He’d had to measure three times on that board because Reese had leaned toward him to hold it in place, giving him a perfect view down the neck of her T-shirt. Her lush breasts spilled over the top of her white lace bra, and he completely forgot the numbers he’d just written down.
What was wrong with him? He was acting like a high school kid with his first crush. He was around wome
n all the time. Why was he letting this one blonde get to him?
She was eager to learn, but her efforts were clumsy as she tried to carry out the tasks he taught her. He showed her how to hold a hammer and set the nail, her body resting snug back against his as he laid his hand on top of hers to demonstrate the swing of the tool.
She squirmed against him, and he almost came undone. “Why don’t we take a break? Let’s walk up to the waterfall. Stretch our legs a little.”
They pulled the dog in the little cart up the path, and she pointed at the wildflowers growing along the trail. “I love these purple flowers, and those pink ones are gorgeous.”
“The purple ones are tansy asters, and the others are called Indian paintbrush.”
She looked up at him with a rapt expression. “Impressive. Do you know the names of all of them?”
He shrugged, acting like it was no big deal, but a small burst of pride swelled in his chest. Tawnya had always been embarrassed by his profession. “I better know what they are. I am a park ranger, you know. Part of my job is leading guided hikes and environmental education so I teach people about wildflowers and birds and survival skills.”
Her face lit with excitement. “Oh, would you teach me some of them, please?”
They hiked up the path, her asking the names of every flower and him pointing out interesting nature facts and teaching her the names of the different plants.
Finally making it to the overlook, they stood at the railing in front of the soaring waterfall. Droplets of spray hit their faces, and Reese tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “I love this place.”
“Me, too.” He tore his eyes from the pale skin of her neck and focused on the rushing water. He leaned on the railing overlooking the falls. “So what were you so intent on destroying yesterday that you almost burned my park down?”
A faint blush crept up her neck. “Some stupid mementos from my ex-boyfriend.”
“When did you break up?”
She consulted her watch. “About twenty-four hours ago.”
“Ah. You seemed more angry than broken-hearted. Did he choose someone else?”
“Yeah, himself.” She let out a sigh. “Brock cared more about himself than he did me. His needs always came first, and then he told me what I needed. It took me a long time to see that I have my own wants. My own needs. And he wasn’t one of them. Neither he nor my father are very happy about my decision.”