Harlequin Blaze June 2015 Box Set: Midnight ThunderFevered NightsCome On OverTriple Time

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “No. You said they won’t hurt me.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” she said, despite the fact that she’d gone pale. “The barn is fine.” She lifted her chin and pushed the screen open.

  “Come on, Shelby.” He caught her wrist and tugged her around to face him. “Are you going to make me say it?” She blinked, then stared into his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Dividing the house, all this duct tape, I was being a dumb ass, okay? I’ve admitted it.”

  Another loud howl.

  She jumped.

  He drew her closer. Just so he could shut the door, he told himself. Not because she smelled so damn good it was driving him crazy. Or because her bright green eyes hit him square in the gut.

  “I’m not going to go running back to Denver,” she whispered. “Sorry, but I’m not.” She let out a shaky breath. “I can’t.”

  “Okay.” He brushed the hair away from her cheek, reluctant to lower his hand. Damn, she was soft. “I was only teasing.”

  “No, you weren’t,” she murmured, a tiny smile twitching at the corners of her lush lips.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Half and half.”

  Her gaze flickered to his mouth. “I understand your position. I do. If I were you, I’d probably be furious.”

  “Probably?”

  With a short exasperated sigh, she met his eyes. “An attorney contacted me. Explained that I’d inherited the Eager Beaver. I didn’t get too excited at first but—I mean, what would you have done?”

  “I know I wouldn’t have packed up and moved everything before I even saw the place.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “This is so unlike me. It’s insane, right?” She sidestepped him.

  And boy did he want to kick himself. He hadn’t meant to chase her off, though it was for the best. No use him getting soft now. Like wondering if she’d left Denver because she’d lost her job or suffered a nasty divorce.

  He turned and watched her leave the kitchen. “What about dinner?”

  “Bathroom first,” she called back.

  “Got it.” He looked at his thumb. The sucker was red and throbbing.

  After getting out the frying pan and setting it on the stove to heat, he went to get a cube of ice. The list of chores he’d stuck to the fridge was still there. He wondered if Shelby had seen it. He yanked the paper down and dropped it in the wastebasket under the sink.

  She wasn’t off the hook. Plenty of work around the place and she’d have to do her share. Though not necessarily the unpleasant things he’d initially had planned for her. Like milk Daisy. That cow had to be the moodiest animal he’d ever run across. More trouble than she was worth. He didn’t even like milk all that much. Violet used most of it. He knew it made more sense to get rid of Daisy, but he didn’t want to see her butchered. Not that he’d ever admit it. Especially not around here in cattle country. He’d get shit from Blackfoot Falls to Twin Creeks.

  The ice was beginning to help. With his good hand, he unwrapped and seasoned the steak, then carefully set the T-bone in the frying pan. He didn’t need another burn. At least the knuckles weren’t so bad.

  Behind him, Shelby noisily cleared her throat. She was holding up a tube of Neosporin. “I brought some gauze, too. I can wrap your thumb for you.” She shrugged. “If you want...”

  She hadn’t changed her clothes, hadn’t even brushed her hair, and yet she looked even better than a few minutes ago. No explaining why. Her shy smile faded. She lowered the tube.

  “Yes,” he said, stepping forward. “I’d appreciate it.”

  Shelby waited for him to extend his hand, then she inspected the burns. “I don’t think your knuckles need wrapping,” she said, after applying the antibiotic. “But your thumb, definitely. Does it sting?”

  “Um...not too bad,” he lied and saw she was trying not to smile. He tried to hold back a wince while she gently spread the white ointment.

  To distract himself, he focused on her necklace. Jewelry wasn’t something he usually noticed. But the purple pendant hanging from a silver chain was interesting. Gold flecks and veins caught the light and seemed to shift with her movement. “Did you make that?”

  “What?” She looked up and touched the necklace. “Ah, yes. A long time ago.”

  “Nice.”

  With a brief smile, she unrolled a piece of gauze. For some reason, it seemed as if she didn’t believe him.

  “That’s not a stone, is it?”

  She shook her head.

  “So, that’s the sort of style you make?”

  “Not since college.” Her obvious reluctance to talk about her work baffled him.

  “You might make great jewelry but your salesmanship needs work.”

  Shelby looked up again and laughed. “I’m not trying to sell you anything.”

  “You should be. My sister would go nuts over something like that. If I get her another scarf and wallet for Christmas, she’ll disown me.”

  “Gee, I can’t imagine why.” She paid close attention while she wrapped the gauze then used a small pair of scissors to snip the excess.

  “I’m serious. You’re really talented.”

  She finished off the dressing with tape. “There you go,” she said, purposely ignoring his comment. “Maybe between this and the ice your thumb won’t swell and you’ll heal quickly.”

  “Thanks,” Trent murmured, appreciative but irritated. “What, you think I’m a country bumpkin with no taste?”

  Her green eyes widened. “Of course not. It’s just— Well, this isn’t exactly fine jewelry.”

  “Nope. It’s not. Believe me, I’ve bought my share of the expensive crap. Just ask my ex-wife.” Trent hadn’t meant to throw in the sarcastic remark, and he quickly moved on. “This is different, and it’s really nice. Better than nice.”

  Shelby blinked and glanced down at the pendant. “Thank you,” she said in a small quiet voice. “That means a lot.”

  Weirdly, he believed she was being truthful. His praise had meant something to her. And that gave him the uncomfortable feeling someone had done a number on Shelby’s confidence. Even more weird, it pissed him off.

  Keep your distance, Kimball. She isn’t your friend.

  “I plan on going back to working with turquoise and silver and maybe fire art like this while I’m here.” Excitement had crept into her voice. “Hopefully I haven’t lost my touch.”

  “Good. I need to score points with my sister. I give Emily something like that for Christmas, she’ll keep me in chocolate-chip cookies for a year.”

  Shelby laughed.

  He gestured to the pendant. “You mind?”

  For a second she looked startled. “Sure,” she said, lifting it off her shirt. “Or I can take it off.”

  “No need. I just want a quickie.”

  She coughed, or laughed. Maybe both.

  Trent sighed. “I meant a quick look—”

  “It’s okay. I know.”

  The chain put the pendant at collarbone level. He carefully took it from her and angled it to the left, then right.

  “How did you do this?” he asked, more impressed each time the light caught on another deep rich color.

  “Trade secret.”

  He glanced up.

  She was smiling. “I’ll show you some time. It’s pretty cool.”

  Trent couldn’t drag his gaze away from her perfect pink lips, how they parted slightly. How she might be thinking along the same lines as him. But even one kiss could be trouble.

  Shelby took a deep breath that made her chest rise. He released the pendant, but she stayed right where she was. Close. Close enough that all he had to do was lean in a few inches...

  She didn’t move. Stayed completely still when he brushed his lips across hers. And then she lifted herself on tip
toes a little, just enough to increase the pressure of the light kiss.

  Taking his cue, Trent pressed his mouth more firmly against hers. Her lips were soft and yielding, her breath warm and sweet, slipping out in a tiny, tempting puff. She surprised him by putting a tentative hand on his chest and leaning slightly into him. Her shy initiative was enough to take a nip out of his self-control.

  Tongues became involved, and he put a hand on her waist. His fingers met with the silky skin below the hem of her T-shirt. It took all of his willpower not to slide his palm up higher.

  Her hand slipped up to his shoulder. Fingernails lightly scraped the side of his neck then pushed into his hair. His racing heart jumped gears. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against his aroused body.

  She tensed. “The steak needs to be turned over,” she said, ducking her head. “Or it’ll burn.”

  The meat was sizzling like crazy and he hadn’t heard it. He let her go and watched her flip the T-bone. As soon as his body calmed down he mentally kicked himself. Kissing her was not keeping his distance. Neither was staring at her ass while she bent over to check the food in the oven.

  What a goddamn fool he was. One hundred percent certified prime idiot.

  He walked to the cabinet under the sink, fished out the list of chores from the wastebasket and stuck the paper back under the fridge magnet.

  “After supper we’ll go over your share of the chores,” he said without looking at her. “Better set your alarm, sweetheart. You’ll have to get up early.”

  7

  SHELBY WAS OUT of bed and dressed before the alarm went off at six. It wasn’t a hardship since she’d been awake for a while. Embarrassed over last night’s misstep, she hadn’t slept well.

  God. She’d actually kissed Trent. More proof that she was insane. Not at all herself.

  While technically he’d kissed her, she sure hadn’t objected. Or resisted. In fact, she’d fully participated. No matter how she tried to spin things, that was the truth.

  Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, she listened to him moving around, then heard the quiet sound of kitchen noises. She really hoped she was right. If he was in the kitchen, she could make a dash to the bathroom without running into him. She wasn’t quite up to that yet.

  Trent probably wasn’t, either. After the kiss his mood had changed. He’d been plain grumpy. She got it. She did. When she was scared, she did a lot of things that she wouldn’t do normally. Like kiss him. And think about what he’d look like without those worn jeans.

  Him calling her sweetheart pretty much told her that he’d also realized the kiss had been a mistake.

  Looking back, it might’ve been wiser for her to have taken the bait and made herself scarce. Instead they’d gone ahead and eaten dinner together, mostly in uncomfortable silence and very quickly. Then when she’d tried to escape to her room, he’d insisted on going over her list of chores. Today she would learn how to milk a cow. Lucky her.

  She made it to the bathroom without seeing him. Hurriedly finished her business, and then let the aroma of coffee lead her to the kitchen and the inevitable.

  He was standing at the sink, steaming mug in hand, peering out the window. A faded navy blue T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.

  “Good morning,” she said, after taking a second to admire how his jeans hugged his butt. Dammit. Before he turned, her gaze skittered to the coffeepot. Beside it was a yellow floral cup she hoped was meant for her.

  “Help yourself, if you drink coffee.” He gave her frayed jeans a brief look. “Otherwise there’s tea in the pantry. Milk in the fridge.”

  “Thanks.”

  The sugar was sitting out. Organic sugar, according to the bag. She didn’t know why that surprised her. No reason Trent wouldn’t be as health conscious as the next person.

  She poured her coffee, skipped all the other stuff. Her first sip improved her disposition, as had Trent’s neutral tone of voice. She was totally okay with them pretending the kiss had never happened. She only hoped he hadn’t gotten the wrong idea. Because she wasn’t needy and certainly would never barter herself in order to stay on the ranch. But he didn’t know her, and no telling how he’d interpreted her actions. All she could really do was make sure it never happened again.

  “How’s the thumb?”

  “Not bad.” He’d stared down at it. “I should probably take off the gauze.”

  “Your work gloves might irritate the burn.”

  He snorted a laugh. “Too bad. A ranch doesn’t run itself. I’d have to be half dead to take a day off, and then I’d still have to feed and water the animals.”

  Knowing that was added strictly for her benefit, she tried not to roll her eyes.

  “I’ll be in the barn,” he said as he topped off his mug. “Come when you’re ready.”

  “Are we feeding the chickens first?”

  “No.” He took a hasty sip. “Violet will take care of them. I’m going to show you how to milk Daisy.”

  “You named the cow? How adorable.”

  He sighed with disgust. “No, I did not name the cow,” he said. “My six-year-old niece decided to call her Daisy and—it just sorta stuck.” He pulled the door open. “I wouldn’t mention it to people around here. They’ll laugh you out of town.”

  Shelby pressed her lips together and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Under all his bluster, Trent was a softie. He was very lucky she wouldn’t tattle on him.

  After several more gulps, she refilled her mug and headed to the barn with it. In the far back Trent had set out a pair of buckets near a weird-looking wooden contraption. She heard a pitiful bleating sound coming from behind the stacked bales in the corner and walked over to investigate.

  Shelby gasped with delight. “Oh, my God, you didn’t tell me you had a calf.”

  “Don’t get attached. She’s being picked up this afternoon.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I sold her, that’s why. We have too damn many females around here as it is,” he muttered.

  “Oh, sweetie, are you gonna miss your mama?” Shelby moved a bit closer to the narrow stall. “Is that mean man separating you from her?”

  Several yards away, Trent grunted. “Yeah, you’d do a great job running a ranch.”

  The little one seemed curious at first. Then let out a frightened mawww and backed away. Shelby wondered what type of treat would be safe to give her. Either she’d ask Violet or look it up online. She wouldn’t ask Trent. Leaving the calf in peace, she went over to where the “mean man” was waiting for her. “Who told you that’s what I wanted to do?”

  He looked up from positioning one of the buckets and frowned. “What else would you do with the Eager Beaver?”

  “I want a place that’s peaceful and quiet and inspiring where I can work.”

  “Making jewelry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can’t you do that anywhere? You were working in Denver, right?”

  “Have you ever lived in a city?”

  “Just outside of Dallas. Close enough to count.”

  “On a ranch?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Go into the city much?”

  “Hell no,” he said, his voice trailing off when he must’ve realized he’d helped make her point.

  For good measure she said, “Then you should get it.” She turned away when he’d stared too long and hard at her. There was something about him that made her feel vulnerable. As if with a look he could unearth her deepest secrets. “Anyway, you have to admit, the Eager Beaver isn’t much of a ranch.”

  “Hey, hold on there—”

  “Come on, Trent. You have a cow, some chickens, a dog and a couple of horses. Not exactly a ranching empire.”

  “Not just horses... I have A
merican quarter horses,” he said, looking insulted. “Two of them. And Solomon has already won two races.”

  She stared back. “Why is it okay to name horses and not cows?”

  His gaze narrowed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. Enlighten me.”

  “It’s different.”

  “Obviously.” She truly didn’t understand. “But what makes it different?”

  “You’re trying to get out of milking Dai—the cow,” he said, jabbing a finger at her. “Won’t happen.”

  He was wrong but she didn’t bother correcting him. Instead she watched him scoop some grain into one of the buckets and then set it in front of the wooden thing that looked like some sort of torture device.

  A moment later he led Daisy out from somewhere in the back of the barn. “You’ll want to put her in this head catch while you milk her.”

  “Won’t that hurt her?”

  “Of course not. Watch.”

  Daisy had no problem with the setup. She dove into the grain with relish.

  Trent turned the second bucket over closer to her hind end before bringing out a medium-size pail from a cabinet. “I’ll show you what to do, then you try it.”

  She watched him as he sat on the overturned bucket, strategically placed the steel pail, grabbed a teat and started squeezing. Milk streamed into the pail. It looked simple enough but Shelby was willing to admit she was nervous. What if she hurt Daisy?

  “Can you see what I’m doing?”

  Shelby nodded.

  “Ready to give it a try?”

  “I think so,” she said in a stupidly girly voice.

  Trent rose and stepped back. “Better hurry before she finishes her grain.”

  Taking a deep breath, Shelby sat on the bucket.

  “Now, squeeze the top of the teat, then close the rest of your fingers down on it one at a time and tug gently.”

  She did exactly what he told her to do. And nothing happened.

  “Don’t worry. It takes some practice. Keep trying.”

  Her next attempt produced a few drops. She looked up to see Trent grinning. “I can’t do it with you watching.”

  “I want to make sure she doesn’t kick you.”