by B. J Daniels
Wasn’t it possible that his interest in cowboy art had been sparked by the painting she’d dropped and nothing more? Which meant he hadn’t forgotten about the painting any more than she had.
Was he here trying to find out more about the painting? Or was he looking for her? Her heart took off like a wild horse running in the wind. Was it possible he’d followed her? That thought turned her blood to ice.
Sid prided herself on her quick thinking when cornered—thus the kiss that had gotten her freedom two nights ago. But she was too aware of him—and vice versa. Good sense told her to leave, but she would have to walk right past him. Also, it might call more attention to her.
Even if she was right and this had something to do with the painting she’d dropped... Even if he was looking for her... He didn’t know the importance of the painting in his possession any more than he could prove she was the woman he’d tackled that night.
Telling herself to play it cool, she forced herself to relax. She was safe and she had to admit, she was curious about the Texas cowboy. Wouldn’t it be to her benefit to learn as much about him as she could? After all, she needed that painting.
As she moved through the exhibit, taking her time looking at each painting, she studied Laramie every chance she got out of the corner of her eye. He was taller than her few stolen glimpses of him had led her to believe. And since he was the business end of the Texas Boys Barbecue empire, she would have expected him to be some computer geek. But the man who’d tackled her had been anything but.
His dark hair was longer than she first thought. Was that designer stubble on his jaw? She smiled to herself, thinking that she might be wrong about him. He might not be as straitlaced and uptight as she’d thought at their first encounter. Either that or he’d loosened up since then.
Laramie moved slowly, studying each painting, stopping longest, she noticed, at an H. F. Powell painting of a cattle drive. The painting was beautiful, a masterpiece. Even someone without an artist’s eye would see that.
He seemed so intent that she hadn’t realized she’d been caught staring until he turned suddenly in her direction. She quickly swung back to the painting she had been pretending to examine. The intensity of his look had rattled her again. Could she be wrong about him not knowing who she was?
Just as she started to move away, he stepped up beside her.
“I know nothing about this kind of art,” he said in his Southern drawl. “Do you really have to be a cowboy to paint it?”
She didn’t look at him. “Sorry, but I wouldn’t know. I’m not a fan of cowboy art.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised. “And yet here you are.” She could feel all of his attention on her. “So you just wandered in here like me?”
“It would seem so,” she said, and quickly looked at her watch.
“Take this, for example,” he said clearly ignoring her subtle attempt to escape. “Is the idea to portray the life of the cowboy? Or romanticize it because these guys look too happy when you know they have to be freezing?”
Sid looked at the painting of cowboys standing around a campfire drinking coffee from tin cups as cattle milled in the background and snow began to fall. He was right. She couldn’t help but smile.
Just as she couldn’t help looking over at him.
He seemed startled for a moment as he met her gaze. Then his eyes shifted slowly to her mouth. She fought the urge to lick her lips as she recalled his mouth on hers. His gaze returned to hers. She tried not to shiver.
“I know this sounds corny,” he drawled, “but I feel as if we’ve met somewhere before.”
She did her best not to react to his words. “If that’s your best pickup line—”
He snapped his fingers as if it had only just come to him. “Texas Boys Barbecue. I saw you coming out of there yesterday.” While his intent gaze was still probing, his smile was all sincerity. “I’m betting you had the rib special. Tell me I’m right.”
She tried to relax. “So you’re a betting man?”
He laughed. “Not usually, but then again I’m a long way from home and out of my element. Right now I’m betting that if you agreed to have a cup of coffee with me, it would make this Texas boy feel more at home this far north.”
She laughed, as well. “You seem very much at home to me.”
“Laramie Cardwell,” he said and extended his hand.
Sid felt she had no choice but to shake it. Her hand disappeared into his large, warm, suntanned one. She tried not to react to the jolt she felt. “Obsidian Forester.”
“Obsidian? What a beautiful and unusual name.”
“That’s why I go by Sid.”
“Well, Sid, I hope you take me up on the cup of coffee. I haven’t met many people since I’ve been here.”
She was tempted, which surprised her. Playing with fire was one thing. Stepping into a blazing furnace was another. Still, he had no way of knowing—let alone proving—that she’d been the woman whose path he’d crossed that night. And if he did suspect, what better way to prove him wrong than by taking him up on his invitation?
Not to mention, he had the painting she needed. Maybe there was another way to get it, other than stealing it outright. Anyway, what would it hurt to have one cup of coffee with him?
Chapter Eight
Violet. It was the color of her eyes. But Laramie realized as they walked the block to the coffee shop that her eyes changed colors in different light. No wonder he hadn’t been sure that first night.
But there was no mistaking the lips. They were bow-shaped, wide and full, and a delicate shade of pink today. He’d remembered the feel of them against his the moment he saw them. Crazily, what he’d wanted more than anything right there in the museum was a repeat kiss. He couldn’t be sure, with everything that had been happening that night, exactly what he’d felt when she’d kissed him. It had happened too fast. But the next time she kissed him...
Where had these thoughts come from? He reminded himself that she was a thief. His plan was to catch her. The chance of there being another kiss was beyond remote.
He was still surprised that she’d agreed to have coffee with him. He’d worried that he’d come on too strong. He’d never been like his brothers, who seemed to all have a way with women. He was more reserved. More cautious, usually. While he’d done his fair share of dating, he’d never met a woman he’d been serious about.
He figured he knew less about women than he did cowboy art, which was saying a lot. So he felt he was out of his league if Obsidian “Sid” Forester was who he believed she was.
“So fess up,” he said once they were seated in a small coffee shop a block from the museum. “You did have the ribs, didn’t you?”
She had a nice laugh. An amazing smile. The woman was striking from her coppery hair to her heart-shaped face and the row of freckles that graced her cheeks. But it was her eyes that fascinated him. They’d been violet, but now in the winter light coming in from the coffee shop window, they were almost silver. Like a wolf’s, he thought. Silver like they’d been in the moonlight the night they’d met.
“You caught me,” she said. “I had the ribs. They were wonderful, but I guess I don’t have to tell you that. I’m betting you’re one of the Texas boys.”
“Yep. My four bothers and me,” he said, figuring she probably already knew that if she’d looked at their story on the back of the restaurant menu. Wouldn’t only an innocent woman go to the barbecue restaurant after his encounter with the cat burglar?
No, he thought. This woman was gutsy. She’d go there almost as a dare.
“Barbecue was the only thing we knew, so we started cooking out behind a small house we turned into a restaurant in Houston.” He shrugged. “The business just kind of took off.”
“What brought you to Montana?” she asked and took a
sip of her coffee. He could feel her watching him over the rim of her cup and wondered what game they were playing. She was definitely his cat burglar. He’d stake his life on it. The thought made him think of the car that had run him off the highway. If he didn’t stop this, what would happen next?
Laramie knew he should be worried about that. But there was no way he was backing off. “My brothers and I were all born here in Montana. When my parents divorced, Mom took us to Texas where she had relatives. My dad still lives near Big Sky, so one after another my brothers have returned, and each has fallen in love with Montana and a woman... Opening a restaurant up here seemed like a good idea.”
“It appears to be doing well. I heard you were opening another one in Red Lodge.”
He smiled, nodding. “I handle the business end of it, so it’s one reason I’m here, along with wanting to spend time with my family over the holidays.”
“So you aren’t staying?” she asked and took another sip of her coffee.
“As a matter of fact, I bought a house yesterday partway up the mountain.”
“Really?” She didn’t sound that surprised. “So you’re planning to move up here?”
He shook his head. “I’ll only spend part of the year here like most of the residents, it seems. I still own a condo in Houston and operate things from there.”
She nodded.
“So tell me about you,” he said.
Sid shrugged. “Not much to tell.”
“Come on, I just told you my entire life story.” He took a sip of coffee and asked, “You live in Big Sky.” She nodded. “What do you do there?”
Her silver-blue eyes met his. “I paint.” Her full mouth quirked into an amused grin.
“Paint?” He pretended to be surprised. “You’re an artist? Or do you paint houses?”
She smiled as she shook her head. “I’m more of a hobby-craft person. I paint Montana scenes on old rusty things I find like saw blades and old milk cans. I definitely wouldn’t consider myself an artist.”
“That explains what you were doing at the exhibit,” he said studying her. “You really like cowboy art.”
“I admire the artists, but cowboy art isn’t my cup of tea, trust me.”
“What is?” he asked.
The question seemed to surprise her as if no one had ever asked her that before. Maybe that was why it took her a moment. Or, he thought, maybe it took her a moment to come up with a lie. “Abstract. I like lots of color. I prefer impressionism over realism when I paint.”
“My sister-in-law McKenzie would love one of your pieces, then.” He studied her. She seemed to be relaxed, but he felt a tension just under the surface. He could feel it buzzing like a live wire between them. “I’d like to see your work sometime.”
She said nothing as she finished her coffee and looked again at her watch. “I really need to go.”
Laramie mentally kicked himself, but he’d never been patient when he wanted something badly. He pushed his coffee aside and stood as she rose. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I do hope our paths cross again.”
“Maybe they will,” she said. He could smell the citrus scent of her morning shower. “Enjoy your new house.”
“Speaking of my new house... I am in desperate need of artwork. The ceilings are ten to twelve foot throughout. I have only one painting I’m partial to, but nothing else. With all these walls to fill, I need help. I sure would appreciate it if you could advise me.” She started to decline. “Come on, who better than an artist who loves color to help me?”
* * *
DON’T DO IT. Sid met the handsome Texas cowboy’s gaze. He’d just told her he had only one painting. She didn’t have to guess which one that was.
“I doubt we like the same things,” she said.
“You might be surprised,” he drawled. “I’d love to show you my house whenever you can come by.”
“There are plenty of designers around who could advise you on artwork. I’m not the person you want.”
“Oh, I suspect you are exactly the person I’m looking for.”
She looked at him, wondering how true that was.
“I have a confession,” he said leaning toward her. “I have no artistic talent. I’m betting you have a better eye for art than you think. I’d love to see what you come up with.”
Was he trying to tell her that he knew who she was? Or that he at least suspected? Or was he hitting on her? That thought almost made her laugh. Wouldn’t that be her luck? A good-looking Texas cowboy interested in her and she had to avoid him for obvious reasons.
“You might not like what I come up with,” she challenged.
He seemed to study her. “I think I might surprise you.”
She feared that was definitely what might happen.
He walked her back to the museum where they’d left their vehicles. A brief thaw had left the streets of Bozeman bare, but there was still plenty of snow in the mountains. Laramie commented on how beautiful it was.
“So do you ski?” he asked as they neared the museum parking lot.
“No.” Sid wondered why she’d lied. But then again she was lying just being with this man.
“Snowboard?”
She shook her head.
“You must do something to enjoy winter since you live in Big Sky. Snowmobile?”
He had stopped beside a white SUV. She assumed it was the same one she’d seen the night he caught her leaving Theo Nelson’s house with the painting.
“I hate how loud snowmobiles are,” she said truthfully and mugged a face. “They ruin the winter quiet, don’t you think?”
Laramie smiled at that. “But they seem to be a necessity if you’re going to get around in the mountains in the winter and want to avoid the roads.”
She looked away. She could feel her heart thundering in her chest. Oh, yes, he suspected her all right. “Don’t you ski?”
He laughed at that. “I’m a Texas boy. I doubt I’ll be staying here long enough in the winter to learn. But my cousin has invited me to do some horseback riding on her ranch. Do you ride?”
She thought of the horses she’d loved when she was younger and the many hours she’d spent in the saddle. Surprisingly, she hadn’t realized how much she missed it until that moment.
“I love to ride.” The words were out before she could bite her tongue.
Laramie’s eyes brightened. “Then we have to go for a ride. When are you free?”
“With the holidays and all...”
“I’m staying until after the holiday masquerade ball that I’m told by my cousin Dana I can’t possibly miss.” He eyed her openly. “You don’t happen to be going?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t be caught dead there.” And this time bit her tongue.
He laughed again. “I feel the same way, but my cousin is very persuasive. Listen, I’m serious about that horseback ride and about your help with artwork for the house.”
“Speaking of being very persuasive.” Their eyes locked for a moment and she felt a warning chill sprint up her back. Be careful. This was not a cowboy to fool with. Admittedly, he definitely had his appeal. She recalled the jolt she’d felt when she’d shaken his hand, not to mention the strange reaction to the kiss. “I’ll think about both.”
“Do that. This is mine,” he said motioning to the SUV. “It was nice meeting you, Sid. Oh, I should tell you where I live in case you take me up on my offer. It’s the three-story one off Lone Mountain Trail. You probably know it, right?” His gaze met hers and held it. She felt a shiver wind its way up her spine. One minute she was convinced he was hitting on her and the next she was positive again that he knew exactly who she was and was setting her up. “Why don’t I give you my phone number in case you can’t find it.”
“I’ll find
it,” she said as she turned and walked away, mentally kicking herself for this cat-and-mouse game she was playing since she was the mouse and the cat was a much craftier adversary than she’d first thought.
As she climbed into her vehicle, she warned herself to let it go. But that meant letting the painting go. She couldn’t do that, she thought with a curse. And Laramie Cardwell was practically daring her to come steal it.
* * *
“WHAT IS GOING ON with you?” his brother Austin demanded when he showed up at Laramie’s door later that afternoon.
He gave him a confused look. “I bought a house?” Motioning his brother in, he headed for the kitchen.
“This house?” Austin said from behind him as he closed the door and followed him. “The house where you saw what you believe was a cat burglar? I know what you’re doing and I don’t like it.”
Laramie laughed. “You’re the one who encouraged me to buy a house up here.” He opened the refrigerator and offered his brother a beer.
Austin declined with a shake of his head. “I’m not talking about the house and you know it. Hud told me that someone ran you off the highway.”
“Just some crazy driver,” Laramie said, wondering how much Hud had told his brothers. Apparently nothing more than that since Austin didn’t ask him about Taylor or Jade West.
“Is this just about the woman?” Austin asked instead.
“I didn’t buy the house for that reason.” Well, not completely, he thought as he closed the refrigerator. “Come take a look. You’ll have to admit the house is perfect for me.”
Austin stepped into the living room, still looking skeptical.
“Check out the view,” he suggested as he walked to the front window in the living room area. “Open concept. Granite counters. State-of-the-art appliances. What’s not to like?”
His brother looked out at Lone Mountain glowing in the afternoon light and seemed to relax a little. “It’s nice.”
“There are two more floors. The second floor is great for company, two bedrooms, another living area, another bath. The master is on the third floor.”