by Joanne Rock
Gage assured Weston he’d get back to him with more details soon, and they hung up just as the door to the guest suite opened. Weston shoved his phone in his pocket and returned to the kitchen.
“Whatever you’re cooking smells fantastic.” April’s voice chased away some of the tension in his shoulders, but his conversation with Gage reminded him how much was at stake for the Mesa Falls owners if the Alonzo Salazar scandal tainted their work with the ranch.
He needed to stay on top of her investigation.
She padded into the kitchen in a long-sleeved white T-shirt and blue plaid flannel pajama pants, stopping near the range. Her long hair was still damp and clipped in a haphazard knot. She breathed in the fragrant tortillas from her position near the cooktop.
She was even lovelier with no makeup, the high color in her cheeks an aftereffect of the shower. His hands itched to wrap around her curves and haul her close. But he needed to keep things light. Easy.
Temporary.
“I hope you like it.” He placed a silver water pitcher on the table and then returned to the stove, lifting the lid so she could see what was inside. “My go-to dishes are the foods of my youth. Mexican and Latin inspired.”
Steam wafted up, sending his thoughts back to the shower she’d taken alone. The opportunity he’d missed, damn it.
“I’ve never tried to cook anything remotely resembling Mexican food, but I love to eat it when I go out.” Setting down the spare fork, she retrieved a spatula from a tin on the counter. “Would you like me to help serve? Not that I’m starving or anything.”
He laughed as he took the spatula from her, appreciating the lighter moment. “Feel free to choose a wine if you want one, and I’ll serve us.” He pointed to the door of the under-cabinet wine fridge. “I’m relieved to hear you brought your appetite.”
“Relieved?” She bypassed the wine and moved toward the table in the breakfast nook, pausing by the stone hearth to warm her hands.
“I’ve been out here really questioning my life choices when I heard you showering alone while I opted to cook.” He did a poor job of hiding the hunger from his voice. “But I’m glad to feed you.”
After sliding the enchiladas onto beds of spinach and greens, he brought the plates of food to the table.
Her gaze followed him. He felt it well before he allowed himself to meet her eyes, which wasn’t until he slid into the bench seat next to her, knee grazing hers. The scent of her hair—like winter spices—drifted toward him along with the more subtle, unique fragrance of her skin. He couldn’t stop himself from skimming a hand along her thigh, letting it rest on the soft flannel.
“For what it’s worth—” her voice held a husky note “—I’m not opposed to multiple showers in a day.”
Need for her clamored inside him all over again, but he kept it in check. He tipped her face up to his, limiting himself to a kiss.
“In that case,” he murmured over her lips, lingering there, “you’d better eat to keep your strength up.”
Pulling away with an effort, he watched her as she took her first bite.
She closed her eyes for a moment, her small hum of pleasure sending a wicked thrill through him. “It’s delicious.”
“Glad you like it.” He dug into his own meal to keep himself from kissing her again. He just needed to find a way to balance the benefits of being with her, to give them the chance to let their passion run its course. A way to keep things uncomplicated.
One of the reasons he’d gotten close to her in the first place was to keep tabs on her investigation. To be aware if she unearthed anything potentially damaging on Alonzo Salazar that could come back to haunt the Mesa Falls Ranch owners. That need hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was more important than ever as she closed in on answers.
Biding his time, he let her enjoy her dinner while he debated how to broach the subject tactfully. He filled their water glasses from the pitcher, the flames from the fireplace reflecting on the silver urn.
“You didn’t say much about the visit with Fallon on our way back here tonight.” He knew they’d both been thinking about being together. Desire had built so high it had drowned out everything else. “Did she have much to offer on Alonzo?”
April nodded. “It was well worth the trip to see all of the postcards he sent her. I’d heard from multiple sources that he traveled frequently, but not even his sons knew where he went. If he was doing humanitarian work like Fallon suggests, then I don’t know why he would have been secretive about it.”
“So you think that’s not the case? That he lied to Fallon about building houses in poor cities around the globe?” Defensiveness rose up in him. He knew damned well those photos weren’t faked. “My aunt went on some of the trips, you know.”
“I’m not suggesting he was lying.” She glanced up from her plate, no doubt hearing the wariness in his voice. “It will be very easy to find out more about his travel now that I have a clue where to begin. I’m just wondering if he had other agendas while he traveled. No doubt he researched the Argentina setting of Hollywood Newlyweds on one of those trips.”
Weston hadn’t given the book much thought since the revelation that author A. J. Sorensen had in fact been Weston’s old mentor. But obviously, there was public interest in the story if that tabloid reporter was on her way to Montana. Would reporters be able to dig up information April didn’t have access to? No doubt tabloid journalists wouldn’t be bound by the same ethics as April. Yet Weston guessed she would discover the truth in the end. She was relentless in her quest to make the pieces add up, a fact that made him both proud and wary, considering he couldn’t afford for the details he’d shared with her from his past to come to light. That horseback-riding trip had been life changing for every single one of the ranch owners. And their secrets weren’t his to share.
But right now, April herself was the more interesting mystery, as far as he was concerned. Curiosity about her made him interested in her work on a personal level too.
“So now you’ll investigate what he did while he was abroad?” he asked, trying to follow the course she was taking through her case.
“Yes.” She twirled her fork through a strand of cheese. “But I have support staff in Denver that can do the legwork. I submitted dates and place data to them, and they will use our resources to see what they can unearth. While I wait to hear back—”
“You already did that?” Weston couldn’t imagine when she’d found time. Maybe she would stay a step ahead of the tabloids.
“My client is devoting considerable resources to finding answers that have already taken me too long to unearth.” The slight furrow in her brow revealed her frustration about that. And, of course, she didn’t need to remind him that he’d thwarted her for weeks when she’d tried to learn more about Alonzo. “I sent the information I collected from my phone while you were stocking Fallon’s hearth.”
It was an important reminder that she was working all the time, and that she didn’t owe her first loyalty to him. She wouldn’t hesitate to pass along whatever she learned to her client, Alonzo’s son. Weston should have asked her about it sooner.
He’d seen her on her phone, of course, but hadn’t realized she’d acquired so much from her brief conversation with his aunt. “Good,” he said belatedly.
“I’m going to see what else I can find out about Nicole Smith and her mystery nephew. There are no records for them under those names, but I can look for them other ways until I can speak to her again.” She lifted her water glass for a sip, watching him over the rim.
“How?” As soon as he asked, he realized he probably had no right to know. “That is, only if you’re able to tell me. But if that’s too close to the case to answer—”
“It’s no secret,” she assured him, setting her glass back on the table and shifting in her seat so she could see him better. There was a hint of excitement in her v
oice, as if she looked forward to finding those final answers for her case. “Most of what I do involves searching databases the public has access to anyhow. My next step in this instance is to review birth records from hospitals closest to Dowdon from thirteen years ago. Cross-check the Matthews just in case the first name is real.”
“Makes sense,” he said, trying to come up with worst-case scenarios for why Alonzo would have been hiding income. And—if the lead about him supporting a child was true—why would he try to hide his support of the boy?
More importantly to Weston, how might those reasons affect Mesa Falls? Already the publicity from the Christmas gala had taken a less-than-glowing turn. Once Tabitha Barnes dropped the bombshell about Alonzo’s authorship of Hollywood Newlyweds, social media about the ranch had been focused on the gossip instead of the green ranching initiatives.
If anything, the money they’d poured into publicity had only magnified the public’s attention on the Alonzo Salazar mystery, fueling gossip. Normally, he would never follow that kind of thing.
Now, he didn’t have a choice.
“I know you’re concerned about how this case will affect Mesa Falls Ranch.” April surprised him by latching on to his thoughts. She set down her fork with a gentle clank against the china, meeting his gaze head-on. “But I still haven’t figured out why it would.”
She pursed her lips for a moment before continuing. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me—about Alonzo, or about your relationship with him—before the truth comes to light?”
Nine
Weston’s square jaw flexed, his shoulders visibly tensing.
April could tell she’d offended him, and she regretted her question. The flames in the hearth danced higher in the silence that followed.
“I’m sorry.” She hastened to explain, wanting to smooth things over with the man who’d cooked her dinner and been the most generous lover she’d ever known. He deserved better. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it. I’m probably tired from the long days on this case, and that’s why I’m not expressing myself well.”
His tone was noticeably cooler. “How did you mean it?”
“I just have the sense that I’m missing a bigger picture here, since I still don’t understand Alonzo’s role in the lives of the ranch owners once you left school.” She rushed on, trying to pinpoint what bothered her. “He was a mentor during your teens. I get that. But what drew him to Montana for years afterward? I feel like there’s an element of the bond between you all that I’m not understanding. Take your brother, for instance.”
Weston scowled and shook his head, as if the mere mention of his brother was enough to make him want to end the conversation. “What would my family have to do with any of this?”
“Miles Rivera is one of the ranch owners.” April had done her homework on the Mesa Falls organization back when she’d been looking for clues about Alonzo’s frequent trips there. “From what Fallon said, the two of you must not have much in common outside of that.”
Weston exhaled a long breath and pushed back from the table, closing his eyes for a moment.
“Miles and I are eleven months apart in age. That put us in the same class at school, and he survived the horseback trip from hell along with the rest of us. That’s a far stronger bond between us than our blood tie.” His hand resting on the bench seat between them clenched and then relaxed again.
She waited, thinking Weston was turning out to be more difficult to understand than her case.
“And frankly, I don’t feel like it’s my place to discuss the other ranch owners with you.” He rose to start clearing their plates, and she stood to help. “But if you want to know more about them—my brother included—I can arrange for you to meet them.”
He set a stack of dishes on the counter while she began filling the dishwasher.
“Really?” She was surprised by the offer when he’d kept her at arm’s length from his business for so long, but she wanted this opportunity. For her work, yes. But she also craved a deeper understanding of him personally. “That is, I would be very grateful for an introduction.”
His gaze roamed over her, and his shoulders eased a fraction. “There is a catch.”
“What is it?” Her skin heated from his attention, a welcome reminder that their night together hadn’t ended yet. No matter how tense their conversation became, there was the possibility of ending it in a smoldering embrace.
If only all of her life obstacles could recede into the background that way.
He wrapped the leftovers and slid the plate into the well-stocked fridge. Turning back toward her, he took her hand and pulled her away from the granite counter.
“No cleaning for you,” he explained. “You’re my guest.”
“But you cooked,” she tried to protest, her efforts weakened by the feel of his warm fingers stroking along the hem of her shirt above her hips.
“We’re not keeping score,” he assured her, his caress working its magic to loosen her limbs and make her body hum with anticipation. “And you deserve more downtime in your life.”
His words crept past the boundaries she needed to have with him, touching her emotions. Stealing her thoughts. She struggled to redirect the conversation back to more neutral ground, all the while feeling that chink in her defenses.
“In that case, thank you.” Her throat felt dry, and she cleared it, needing to move on. “And you haven’t told me the catch yet. How can I meet more of the ranch owners?”
He lowered his head to hers, his warmth seeping into her skin and blocking out her view of anything else. She wanted him again.
Needed him.
How had she given him so much sway over her when they’d known each other such a short amount of time?
“Gage and I spoke while you were in the shower,” he admitted. “Apparently there’s more tabloid interest in Alonzo, so we’re having an investor meeting this weekend. As many of them who can attend will descend on Mesa Falls as soon as possible.”
The news stunned her. She straightened to look Weston in the eye, a chill chasing away all the sweet heat from a moment before.
“Having Alonzo’s secret life exposed poses that much of a threat that six of the nation’s wealthiest men are going to drop everything to fly to Montana at a moment’s notice?” She had suspected that Weston must be keeping something significant from her in regard to his former mentor.
This certainly seemed to confirm it.
“It’s not that it poses a threat.” He let go of her waist, his hands falling to his sides. “But we share a common interest in protecting the name of someone who mentored us. Someone important to us.”
“Shouldn’t you leave that to my client?” Frustration throbbed in her temple, making her wonder if this relationship had completely clouded her judgment. “Alonzo’s son?”
“If we trusted Devon or Marcus Salazar to protect their father’s interests, yes. But you have to admit, your client never showed much interest in his old man before Alonzo’s death.” Weston paced away from her, pausing by the stone fireplace to glare into the flames. “It’s telling that Devon had to hire an investigator to find out anything about his father, isn’t it? And I know for a fact that Alonzo invited both his sons to the ranch multiple times in the years before he died. Neither of them came until it was too late.”
April knew that Alonzo’s deathbed wish had been to have his sons visit the ranch after he died. That was when Devon had hired April’s firm, after securing papers that his father had left for them with the ranch owners. April didn’t know much about that, but from her perspective, it seemed like Devon was doing whatever he could to unravel the mystery of his father’s life.
A mystery Weston seemed determined to keep hidden.
Still, she couldn’t afford to alienate him now when he’d offered her an entry to his world. Access to his fellow
owners who had proven impossible to interview.
“I understand why you would have a hard time trusting Devon.” She joined Weston by the stone hearth, where she watched the firelight play over his features. “And I am grateful for the invitation next weekend.”
He glanced up, his hazel gaze inscrutable, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. The waistband rode low on his hips, revealing a glimpse of taut abs just under the hem of his T-shirt, reminding her he wasn’t wearing a damned thing under the denim.
She bit back her response to him, focusing on their conversation.
“The meeting place is undecided, but we usually try to coordinate some kind of good works opportunity while we’re together.” Straightening from his spot at the fireplace, he removed his hands from his pockets and reached for her. “I’ll let you know once the venue is determined.”
Should she be warier about their relationship now that she suspected he knew more about Alonzo than he was sharing with her? Logically, she would answer yes. But the draw of the man was too potent. And she needed his help if she ever wanted to get to the bottom of where Alonzo’s money had really gone. It was a poor excuse for letting her hormones make her decisions for her, but there it was.
“Okay. Thank you.” Nodding, she let him pull her against him, her body melting into his in a way that defied description. They fit together perfectly. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the added tabloid attention. I know that has to be frustrating.”
The scent of his skin called to her through his T-shirt. She smoothed her palm along his chest, her forehead resting on his jaw.
“Gage said a reporter was promising her followers a story and posting a photo of a plane ticket to Montana.” He shook his head, but kept a grip on April’s shoulders, holding her close.
“Should we drive back tonight?” She tipped her head up to look at him. “Do you need to be there for potential damage control?”