by Marin Thomas
Sierra glanced at her watch. Eight o’clock—Beau was on time. “I’ll be right out.” She’d snuck up to the apartment to change clothes for her date and had been studying her reflection in the bedroom mirror for the past five minutes. The black, short-sleeved knee-length dress flattered her full figure. The tight-fitting bosom showed off her feminine curves while the pleated skirt hid the extra few pounds she needed to lose.
Guilt pricked her for wearing a cocktail dress. She hoped to impress Beau but didn’t want him believing she was interested in dating, because anything long term with the handsome cowboy was out of the question. Keeping that in mind, Sierra intended to savor every moment of the evening.
After spritzing on perfume, she left the bedroom and waltzed past her aunt, who sat on the couch reading. Molly rested dutifully at her feet. When Sierra opened the door off the kitchen…wow.
Beau stood on the fire escape, holding a bouquet of daisies. He wore slacks and casual shoes—she couldn’t remember ever seeing him in anything but jeans and boots. Her gaze inched higher, taking in his button-down shirt and brown bomber jacket. Even in dress clothes, Beau’s chiseled looks screamed cowboy.
He held out the flowers. “The color reminds me of your eyes.”
The reference to her eyes triggered a mini heartache, but she ignored the pain and accepted the bouquet. “They’re lovely.” She waved Beau into the apartment, then searched through the cupboards for a vase.
“Who’s here, dear?”
“Sorry, Aunt Jordan. It’s Beau.”
“Hello, Mrs. Peterson.”
While Sierra arranged the flowers in a vase, Beau crossed the room and patted Molly on the head. “Heard my dad gave you a tour of the ranch a few days ago.”
“Driving around with Joshua brought back fond memories. Seems like only yesterday that your father and I snuck off to the fishing hole on the McKinley property.”
“I guess you’ve heard Earl McKinley leased his land to the Missoula Cattle Company.”
“Joshua mentioned that was the same corporation leasing acreage from Thunder Ranch.”
Her aunt’s knowledge of the Adams and Hart family business pleased Sierra. She doubted that Joshua would have shared the information if he hadn’t felt he could trust Jordan. For her aunt’s sake and Sierra’s, too, she hoped Joshua’s intentions were honorable. She worried that he might be caught up in reliving the past, then once the excitement wore off and he realized his former high school sweetheart was still blind, he’d end the relationship, leaving Jordan with a broken heart and a desire to return to Florida.
“I was wondering, Mrs. Peterson—”
“Call me Jordan, Beau.”
“Jordan. How far back do you and my dad go?”
“Your father pulled my pigtails in fifth grade, and from then on I was smitten.”
“So you two have known each other most of your lives,” Beau said.
“We went steady all through high school.”
“Why’d you break up?” Beau asked.
“I went off to college.”
Beau’s questions sounded more like an interrogation than benign chitchat and Sierra wondered if he had reservations about his father dating her aunt. Feeling the need to intervene, she said, “Aunt Jordan, Beau and I are having dinner downstairs.”
“That’s fine, dear, but I need to talk to you before you turn in for the night.”
“What about?”
“Scheduling an appointment with the ophthalmologist.”
Since her aunt’s arrival in town, not a day had passed that she hadn’t hounded Sierra about seeing an eye doctor. After a few weeks the nagging had gone in one ear and out the other. Sierra would make an appointment when she was good and ready and not a minute sooner. In any event, she had no intention of discussing the private matter in front of Beau. “I’ll handle it, Aunt Jordan.” She walked through the living room and stopped in front of a door that looked suspiciously like a closet. “We’ll use the back staircase.”
“Didn’t know this building had a secret passageway,” Beau said.
Sierra opened the door and switched on the sconces in the stairwell. Beau followed her, closing the door behind him. Before she’d descended two steps, he clutched her arm.
“You look…hot.” His gaze traveled the length of her body.
The compliment sent a rush of pleasure through her. “Thank you.”
“You know what that dress says, don’t you?”
Sierra couldn’t think straight—not with the heady scent of Beau’s cologne swirling around her head. “Wh…what does it say?”
“Kiss me,” he whispered.
They hadn’t sat down to eat and already Beau was making a move on her.
Go ahead. Sierra had fantasized about kissing Beau for months. Did it matter if he kissed her at the beginning of the date instead of at the end? Sierra made a feeble attempt to take the high road. “My aunt’s sitting a few feet behind the door.”
Beau’s gaze zeroed in on Sierra’s mouth. “I’m a quiet kisser.”
Short of breath, she whispered, “Prove it.”
His lips covered hers, then his hand settled on her hip, pulling her closer until her breasts bumped his leather jacket. Lord, the man could kiss. She followed Beau’s lead, relaxing in his arms, opening her mouth to his tongue. The kiss grew more urgent, his callused hand caressing her neck…his fingers sifting through her hair.
Sierra couldn’t recall the last time she’d been so thoroughly kissed and she gave herself over to the magic of the moment, memorizing Beau’s scent…his taste…the scratchy feel of his beard stubble…the intimate rumble reverberating through his chest.
The kiss ended abruptly, Beau resting his forehead against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
Me, too. “I think we should get off the stairs before one of us tumbles to the bottom.”
“Sorry.” Beau nuzzled her cheek then smoothed a hand over her hair. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”
Blushing, she descended the steps, which opened into the large pantry connected to the kitchen. When she entered the dark room Beau stopped her.
“Hold up.”
With only the swath of light streaking across the floor from the passageway, Sierra was unable to see much except the shadowy outline of Beau’s jaw. She waited for him to speak.
“I can’t help myself.” He clasped her face and his mouth inched forward.
Sierra raised her arms, intending to wrap them around his neck when the door on the other side of the pantry opened.
“Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Karla Dickson, the waitress who’d taken over for Irene this evening, smiled sheepishly.
“Hi, Karla.” As if Beau hadn’t been caught red-handed with his fingers in the cookie jar, he released Sierra and stepped into the kitchen.
Karla turned away, leaving Sierra all but forgotten in the pantry. “Duke stopped in a few minutes ago looking for you.”
“I’ll call him later. How about those Panthers? Your husband’s team has a chance of winning the conference title this year.”
“Please, no football talk.” Karla groaned. “I hear enough about it at home.”
Sierra shut the pantry door and faced her employee. “Any problems after I left?”
“Not a one. The tables are cleaned off and supplies restocked. If you want, I’ll run the dishwasher and prepare the coffee machines for tomorrow.”
“No, thanks. I’ll take care of that after Beau and I have dinner. Thanks for finishing Irene’s shift today.” Sierra walked Karla out of the kitchen to the front door. By tomorrow morning, the Roundup grapevine would be buzzing with rumors of Beau and Sierra kissing in the pantry.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday for my regular shift,” Karla said.
“’Night.” Sierra locked up, then switched off the neon sign outside and returned to the kitchen where she found Beau at the stove with his finger in the gravy pot. “I’m the chef and I don�
��t stick my fingers in the food.”
“Your sirloin is one of my favorites.”
She fetched two plates and dished out one small serving and one cowboy-sized serving of food. “There’s wine in the pantry.” The diner didn’t have a liquor license, because Sierra didn’t want her patrons driving home inebriated, especially when many of them lived outside the town limits. However, she kept the pantry stocked with several bottles of wine for her recipes.
Beau returned with a merlot from Napa Valley—interesting that he’d selected her favorite. She covered the bistro table in the corner with a red-and-white-checked cloth, then added two wineglasses and silverware.
A second later a pop echoed through the kitchen when Beau opened the wine bottle. He filled the glasses, then held out Sierra’s chair after she brought their plates to the table. “Shall we dim the lights?” he asked.
As much as she yearned for a romantic atmosphere, Sierra worried she’d make a fool of herself if she could see only a few inches in front of her nose. “I’d prefer to keep the lights on. I like to see what I’m eating.”
“Must be a chef thing.” Beau sat down and raised his wineglass. “A toast.”
“To what?”
“To beautiful women who can cook.” He touched the rim of her glass with his own.
Sierra enjoyed watching Beau wolf down his food. He mumbled praise between bites while she contemplated how best to explain her odd behavior yesterday. As much as she wished for her life to go on as if everything were normal, she could no longer pretend her vision problems would disappear.
“What’s the matter?” Beau clasped her hand, preventing the fork from swirling her mashed potatoes.
“I’m a little distracted.”
“Ouch.”
Sierra hadn’t meant to offend him, but before she expressed her regret, he released her hand and patted his stomach. “That was the best meal I’ve eaten—” he grinned “—since my last visit to the diner.”
“You haven’t been in the past few days.” Who cared if he guessed she’d kept track of his visits?
“It’s not because I haven’t wanted to. I added extra rodeos to my schedule.”
“How long do you plan to compete?”
He pointed his fork at her. “I know what you’re thinking—I can’t rodeo forever. I guess thirty-two is old for a bull rider.”
“You’re in great shape for thirty-two.” Her eyes twinkled.
Glad Sierra approved of him, Beau said, “I’d like to make it to the NFR before I hang up my rope.”
“Will you get there this year?”
He shook his head. “Don’t have enough points.” If Duke had quit rodeo in the spring instead of in July, Beau might have been able to win enough rodeos to make the cut.
Sierra wiggled in her chair. She hadn’t stopped fidgeting since they’d sat down to eat. Was she upset about the kiss? No. She’d participated fully and would have allowed him to kiss her again if Karla hadn’t interrupted them.
“I—”
“Before you say anything,” Beau said. “Are you involved with another man?”
Her eyes widened. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was.”
“Last night…I thought…well, it crossed my mind that maybe you were waiting in your car to meet with a lover.”
“Why would I wait alone on a deserted road after dark?”
“Roundup’s a small town. People gossip. If you wanted to keep a relationship private…” The more Beau talked, the dumber he sounded.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but the reason I was stranded had nothing to do with a lover’s rendezvous.”
Feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions, he chugged the remainder of his wine.
After a stilted silence Sierra set her fork aside. “Have you paid any attention to the rumors about me?”
“I didn’t know you were a hot topic of conversation.” He grinned. “Not that a beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be talked about.” His comment failed to make her smile. “I’ve been too busy with rodeo to listen to gossip.”
Twice Sierra opened her mouth to speak but stopped.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
“I’m sorry. It’s difficult to talk about.”
He held her hand, encouraged when she didn’t pull away.
“The reason Aunt Jordan showed up unexpectedly this summer and moved in with me is because several of her old friends told her that I’ve been acting…weird.”
“Weird?”
“I’m having trouble with my eyesight.”
“You need glasses but you don’t want to wear them,” Beau said.
“I already wear contacts.”
“Oh.” Did she mean her vision problems were more serious than needing a new prescription?
“I don’t see well in the dark.”
Ahh…now he understood her wanting to leave the kitchen lights on.
“And my peripheral vision isn’t so good, either.”
Beau recalled eating at the diner and attempting to flirt with Sierra a couple of months ago, but she’d marched past his booth as if she hadn’t seen him—evidently she hadn’t.
“Is that why you spent the night in your car, because you couldn’t see well enough to drive home in the dark?”
“Yes.”
Beau was baffled that she hadn’t been truthful with him. “I offered to give you a lift into town.”
“In retrospect I should have accepted your help, but I didn’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s not like the diner was out of my way.” There was more to this than Sierra not wanting to inconvenience him, but Beau didn’t want to ruin the mood by pushing the subject.
“I’m sorry I lied last night. You’ve probably figured out I’m a little stubborn.”
“A little?”
Sierra lowered her gaze to her lap. “It was nice of you to return and wait with me until morning.”
“Would have been more fun if you’d joined me in my truck.”
A blush spread across her cheeks. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this.”
He wondered why she was so bashful about her eyesight failing. “We’re a close-knit community. Some of your customers would be upset if they knew you needed help but didn’t ask for it.”
“Please, Beau.” She shook her head. “I don’t like sharing my private business.”
“I understand…you being a flatlander and all.”
“Hey, I spent summers in Roundup when I was a kid. That makes me a semi-native.”
“I’ll give you that.” Discussing her eyesight obviously made Sierra nervous, so Beau changed the subject. “Are we having dessert?”
“Of course.” She opened the commercial refrigerator. “Peach cobbler or German chocolate cake?”
“I’ll have the cobbler,” he said. Sierra dished out a heaping serving for Beau and a stingy one for herself.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who’s on a diet all of the time.” He liked—really liked—Sierra’s curves.
“I have a habit of sampling the food when I cook, which makes maintaining my target weight virtually impossible.”
“You look great.”
Sierra laughed.
“I’m serious. You’re perfect.”
“You always acted a little shy when you came into the diner.” She smiled. “I didn’t expect you to be so forthright.” Her gaze clashed with Beau’s and he felt a connection to Sierra that went deeper than physical attraction. He hoped she felt it, too, because he definitely wanted to get to know her better. On the other hand, she appeared eager to end the evening when she checked her watch for the fifth time.
“I’ll help you clean up.” Beau didn’t want to leave, but he also didn’t want to overstay his welcome.
“Guests don’t wash dishes.”
“Sierra?”
“Yes.”
“Go out with me again.”
“I can’t.”
There hadn’t been a moment’s hesitation in her answer and Beau’s gut twisted. “Is it because of the kiss?” His plan to move slowly with Sierra had been blown to smithereens on the back staircase. “Did I come on too strong?”
“No, I enjoyed your kiss.”
The knot in his stomach loosened but not much.
Sierra collected the dirty dishes and placed them in the sink. “My life is hectic, Beau. Running the diner seven days a week takes a lot of time and then with my aunt visiting…”
Her voice trailed off and Beau had a hunch she was trying to persuade herself that she wasn’t interested in dating. “We don’t have to rush things.” When she remained quiet, he said, “You’re a beautiful woman, Sierra, and I’ve been trying to catch your attention for months.” He tipped her chin, forcing her to make eye contact. “The money I’ve spent on meals at the diner could have paid for an Alaskan cruise.”
Instead of making her smile, his comment drew a deep sigh from her. “You should have picked the cruise, Beau.”
He tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Why?”
“I’m not looking to get involved with anyone.”
When she didn’t elaborate, he backed off, but not all the way. “You’re busy, but so am I. If I’m not riding in rodeos, I’m helping with the cattle and bulls at Thunder Ranch.” He paused, waiting for her to look at him. “I’d like to spend time with you whenever we’re both free.”
“You mean we’d see each other as friends?”
Friendship was a good place to start. “Yeah. Friends.”
“Okay. I’d like to be friends with you, Beau.”
Feeling the need to leave before he said or did something to make her change her mind—like kiss her—he grabbed his jacket from the chair.
Sierra followed him out of the kitchen. He stopped at the lunch counter and pulled two napkins from the holder. “Got a pen?”
“Sure.” She handed him the pen from next to the cash register.
He wrote his cell number on one napkin. “What’s your number?” She recited it. Beau wanted a good-night kiss so bad his mouth watered. “Sierra?”
“Yes.”
Before he lost his senses, he asked, “You ever been to a rodeo?”
“When I was a little girl my parents took me to one.”