“The operative question is why didn’t you mention it to me before?”
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“It was. You led me to believe you were a cowhand who spent his days roping dogies and putting up fence posts.”
“Obviously I put up fence posts, but I haven’t roped in ages. We train cutting horses and you don’t use a rope for that maneuver.”
She gazed at him and wished he didn’t have all that sexiness going on with his short brown hair mussed from wearing a hat and those green bedroom eyes of his. Why couldn’t he have a piece of carrot from lunch still stuck in his teeth? But no, he looked as yummy as ever, even with his shirt on. And he smelled so good.
If not for Pam’s warnings, Dominique would be setting up their dinner date and checking her supply of condoms. “The truth is,” she said, “that you’re a guy who spent years in school to become a vet, one who only occasionally does that cowboy stuff.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted the cowboy fantasy this morning. I simply obliged.”
“I have to give you props there. You obliged like a champ.”
He drew closer. “And according to Emmett, you couldn’t take your eyes off me at lunch. So come to dinner with me, Dominique.”
“No can do.” She stepped out of his reach, although it wasn’t the easiest thing she’d ever done. She still wanted him with a fierceness that wouldn’t go away.
“You’re one maddening woman, you know that?”
“I’m doing this for your own good!”
“Oh, please.”
“Seriously. Pam filled me in, and judging from what she told me before you arrived, you are beloved by most everyone, especially her. She wants the best for you, and she pretty much said you’re not the sort of man to engage in a casual fling.”
Nick stared at her. “So now Pam is the person who decides whether I have some fun this week? I like the woman a lot, but this is bogus.”
“She loves you, Nick. She doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Good Lord. Why don’t you ask me, the person involved, whether I can handle uncommitted sex? The answer is hell yes, I can. I’m a big boy. I know you’ll go back to Indianapolis.”
She was so tempted. God, was she tempted. But Pam had known this guy for five years, and if she thought an affair would turn into a disaster for Nick, then Dominique had no desire to take that chance. Pam probably knew him better than he knew himself.
But he might not appreciate hearing that. “Look at it this way. I like it here. As I told your cook, Mary Lou, I’m excited about the photographic possibilities and I’d like to come back.”
“Even better. I’ll have your bed waiting.”
“That just won’t work. Either one of us could be involved with someone else the next time, and it would all just be…awkward.”
Nick slapped his hat against his thigh. “You’re projecting problems into the future. Who knows what will happen? I’m in favor of enjoying the present, myself.”
She smiled. “Now you’re sounding like a soldier about to head off to war.”
“Whatever works. Carpe diem and all that.”
Dominique gazed at him with regret. “I’m sorry. I think it’s a really bad idea.”
“Well, you’re the boss.” He glanced into her eyes. “If you change your mind, I’ll be out in that damned rocky pasture digging postholes. And I’ll still have the tarp with me.” Settling his hat on his head, he turned and walked away.
Once he was out the door, she unclenched her jaw. She had to physically restrain herself from calling him back. When she’d been talking with Pam everything had seemed so clear, but once Nick arrived and the pheromones started flowing, she’d had trouble remembering why she shouldn’t have sex with him again.
If she wouldn’t be putting Pam out of her bedroom, she’d ask to return to the B and B. Or maybe she could sleep in the parlor. Dominique thought about that and finally dismissed it.
Much as she liked the quaintness of Pam’s place, she preferred the majesty of the Last Chance. This house was masculine and bold, as were the men who lived here. Staying in this house stirred her sense of adventure.
Maybe she needed to channel her sexual frustration into photography. For the next five days she wasn’t required to take a single wedding shot or family portrait. She enjoyed doing that, but it didn’t feed her inner artist.
With a sense of excitement, she bounded up the stairs to get her backpack. She’d roam the ranch and see what sort of photo ops turned up. She would, however, avoid the rocky pasture where Nick was working. Another glimpse of his shirtless, sweaty body would wipe out every trace of her noble resolve.
AFTER DIGGING EVERY single damned posthole Jack had marked, Nick opened the passenger door so the dogs could jump into the cab. Then he drove back to the ranch house, showered and put on clean clothes. Dominique might not be interested in a night of dancing, but that didn’t mean he had to sit home.
He was royally ticked at Pam for saying those things to Dominique, but he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. Pam had no right to butt in, and he’d have to set her straight about that, but he didn’t want to hurt her, either. She meant well.
It might have been Pam’s assumption that he wasn’t capable of having no-strings sex that made him drive into Shoshone and park his truck in front of the Spirits and Spurs with the express intention of finding someone who wanted to take him home tonight. Or it might have been Jack’s disapproval of what had happened out in the clearing this morning.
Or he might have wanted to show Dominique that if she chose not to spend the night with him, he could round up someone gorgeous who would jump at the opportunity. In any case, he had a wagonload of reasons why he was ready to raise some hell and find a willing woman to finish out the evening in style.
But three hours later he was back in the truck, heading down the road bound for the Last Chance, alone and disgustingly sober. He’d danced with every available woman in the place, which had left him little time for all the beer he’d planned to drink.
And as he’d made his way around the room, asking women to dance, he’d urged himself to settle on one of them as his partner for the night. At least two had seemed willing to accommodate him.
Sad to say, he couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for the idea. Theoretically, it had sounded great to carouse the night away. In practice the effort seemed like a lot of work for very little payoff. None of those women could hold a candle to Dominique.
Which sucked on so many levels. He’d had one memorable experience with her, but he could not allow that to become his new benchmark. Outdoor sex with a nameless stranger was bound to be more exciting than anything he’d done before. He could remember it fondly, but he couldn’t expect to repeat it or even come close to repeating it.
One comforting thought came to him as he parked the truck in his usual spot and walked into the house. She’d be in the same pickle the next time she thought about having sex with someone. No matter what venue she picked or who the guy was, it wouldn’t be the same as spontaneous sex in the middle of a forest with someone she didn’t know.
Nick would be damned if he’d let this obsession with Dominique rule his behavior. Next week, after she’d returned to her precious Indianapolis, he’d go back to the Spirits and Spurs and he wouldn’t leave alone. Trying to do that tonight while Dominique was still here, while he could still remember the feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her, had been too ambitious.
Downstairs was quiet, which wasn’t surprising. Without his mom here to liven up the place, he and Jack became a couple of boring bachelors. Jack was probably already in his room, although Nick doubted his brother was asleep. He didn’t sleep much these days.
Jack’s room was on the second floor at the far end of the left wing, a room he’d chosen for himself when that wing was added. Gabe, who had always idolized Jack, had moved over to that wing, too, although Gabe wasn’t home much anymore.
That had left Nick alone on the second floor of the right wing until the family took in Roni, a runaway teen. Now that Roni was off doing her NASCAR gig, Nick was by himself up there again, except for the occasional overflow guest from the Bunk and Grub. Which brought Nick right back to the subject of the current occupant of that room.
He was too keyed up to go to bed, especially when Dominique would be right down the hall. Might as well get started on that trunk of memorabilia in his dad’s office—or what was rightly Jack’s office now. Nick decided a beer would go well with that chore. After fetching a bottle of his favorite brew from the industrial-size refrigerator in the kitchen, he made for the office located on the first floor of the right wing.
The room was dark, but Nick knew the furniture placement by heart and walked without hesitation to his dad’s desk. The old banker’s lamp with the green glass shade was an antique his mom had found. His dad had loved that thing. Once Nick turned on the lamp, he found a coaster and set it on the battered old desk.
A new beer bottle ring might not matter, considering the condition of the wood, but Nick didn’t feel he had the right to mar the finish with either a bottle or a boot heel. Only his dad had possessed that right. Even Jack was careful around it. In many ways the heavy wooden desk had represented their dad, and everyone treated it like a museum piece.
The wooden swivel chair behind the desk creaked in an achingly familiar way when Nick sat in it. Now that he was here and faced with the task, he wondered if he was up to it, after all. No telling what was in that trunk and what sort of memories, both happy and sad, those things would stir up. Happy memories might be the hardest to deal with.
Picking up his beer and nudging his Stetson back so he could see better, Nick swiveled the chair around. The leather trunk, about three feet wide and two feet tall, had been shoved up against the wall behind the desk for as long as Nick could remember. Nobody had been allowed to touch it except his dad, who had vowed that in his dotage he’d take everything out and make a big scrapbook, but in the meantime it was off-limits.
He’d never made it to his dotage.
After taking another fortifying swig, Nick set the bottle on the coaster, wiped his damp hands on his jeans and opened the trunk. As he’d expected, it was crammed helter-skelter with papers, photos, ticket stubs, horse racing programs and other bits of paper Nick would have to study to identify.
Obviously, this job would require more than one night, and probably more than one six-pack. But Nick was doing this for his mom, because she couldn’t face it. He hoped he’d be able to face it.
As he started pulling things out, he ordered them in piles. Later he’d get boxes to put them in, but for now he’d use the floor.
A half hour into the process he took his empty beer bottle to the kitchen and brought back a fresh one. More than once he’d had to swallow some beer to wash away the lump in his throat. The trunk was full of heart squeezers, like the photo of the five of them grouped around a picnic table, or the ticket stub from a horse show on which his father had written “Took all three boys. Had great time.”
Nick spent a moment studying the picture. Even though the five of them were together, Jack stood a little apart. He had always kept himself a bit separate, as if having a different mother than the other two boys meant he wasn’t a full-fledged member of the family. How sad.
Putting the picture in a pile of others, Nick tackled more of the trunk’s contents. His dad had saved correspondence from friends he’d made during his many years raising and training paints. Nick was eager to share those letters with his mom and brothers because they formed a picture of a man who’d been respected for both his talent with horses and his unwavering honesty.
As Nick delved further into the trunk, he came across a paper that didn’t look like anything he’d found so far. It was a faded photocopy of an official-looking document dated, he noticed right away, on his birthday. Now there was a coincidence.
Curious, he began to read.
To whom it may concern:
I have on this day in Chicago, Illinois, given birth to a son, Nicholas Jonathan O’Leary. His father, Jonathan Chance, and I had a brief relationship nine months ago, but Jonathan does not know of this baby’s existence, which is by my choice. However, should anything happen to me, I want Jonathan to be notified and Nicholas to be transported as soon as possible to the Last Chance Ranch in Shoshone, Wyoming, so that Jonathan may care for him there. My parents have no interest in the child and my sister is not of age.
Sincerely,
Nicole Elizabeth O’Leary
Nick stared at the piece of paper in his hand. Then he read it again. And again. No matter how many times he read it, and he soon lost count, the conclusion was the same. His entire life had been a lie.
7
DOMINIQUE WAS IN HER ROOM clicking through the photos on her digital camera when she heard Nick come in. At dinner she’d found out from the cook that he wouldn’t be eating with them because he’d decided to go into town for a meal. Mary Lou had said that with a sniff of disapproval, as if she couldn’t understand why anyone would choose a restaurant meal over one of hers.
Dominique had guessed that Nick had based his actions less on food and more on proving he could have a good time with or without Dominique’s cooperation. The hands didn’t eat up at the main house for dinner, so Dominique had been stuck with Jack in the small formal dining room until she’d begged Mary Lou to join them.
Fortunately, Mary Lou had been willing to fill in the gaps in conversation left by Jack, and the meal had gone well enough. Afterward he had excused himself and Dominique had hung out with Mary Lou in the kitchen, where she’d heard all about why Sarah, the lady of the house, was in town instead of at the ranch house. Mary Lou had seemed glad for the female companionship with Sarah away.
But eventually the cook had toddled off to her quarters in the left wing, so she could watch her favorite TV shows, and Dominique had gone up to her room to look over the shots she’d taken during the afternoon. Or rather, she’d been trying to concentrate on the photos, but mostly she’d been imagining Nick two-stepping his way into another woman’s bed.
She couldn’t blame him for wanting to find someone more tractable than she’d been. She’d started his motor running and then abandoned him. For his own good, she reminded herself. In town he could look for someone who lived here, someone who might be a potential steady girlfriend.
Although she’d tried mightily to accept that scenario, she’d been pleased to hear him come in before ten. The lack of voices meant he was alone, although she doubted he’d bring someone back here, considering Jack’s sour attitude. If Nick had found a likely candidate to replace her, he would have stayed in town.
She listened for his footsteps on the stairs and debated whether to come out of her room and ask if he wanted a nightcap. No, not a good plan unless she was prepared to alter her original decision. The reasons for not going to bed with him again still applied, so she’d be wise to stay in her room.
When he didn’t come upstairs, she became curious. No one was around, so why would he linger down there? And he was definitely lingering. Finally she couldn’t stand it. She crept barefoot out of her room and partway down the stairs.
From that vantage point she could see the light spilling out of a room that she’d identified earlier as an office. How ironic if Nick, who’d complained about Jack’s overzealous work ethic, had come home early and was working on some ranch business.
She sat on the steps and contemplated her options. A sane person would retreat and go to bed. But at this hour she had trouble locating her saner side. The house was dark and silent except for the rustling of papers in the office and the occasional creak of a swivel chair.
What a bizarre situation, to be sitting in the dark listening to the movements of the man she’d had sex with twelve hours ago. She wanted to be with him, but his guardian angel in the form of his neighbor Pam had warned her off. Nick, however, would probably be th
rilled if she showed up, especially if she proposed a repeat of their earlier experience.
When he walked out of the office carrying a beer bottle, she shrank back into the shadows, not wanting to be caught lurking there and essentially spying on him. But soon he returned carrying a bottle with condensation on the sides, and she realized he must have gone to the kitchen for a second beer.
That meant whatever he was working on didn’t require total concentration or he wouldn’t be doing it while sipping on a brew. Her presence wouldn’t interrupt some important ranch business. The urge to wander down and see what he was doing grew stronger. She could use the excuse of showing him her recent photos.
Hugging her knees to her chest, she listened to him rustling papers. He sounded as if he might be sorting through something, maybe something private to do with his dad’s death. Besides, what did she hope to accomplish by going down there?
Dominique didn’t consider herself a tease, so if she set foot in that office, she should be prepared for the consequences. Nick would assume, whether she pretended it had to do with camera shots or not, that she’d changed her mind about having sex with him. Had she?
Her conscience was in a painful tug-of-war with her libido. With a sigh, she gave her conscience a hand and stood. She’d go back to her room, pull the covers over her head and forget about Nick Chance and his broad-shouldered, lean-hipped magnificence.
Feeling extremely virtuous, she started back up the stairs. That’s when she heard Nick’s gasp of surprise. She paused and listened intently for him to start rustling pages again. Nothing. Total silence.
She counted seconds in her head while keeping her ears tuned to whatever was happening in the office. He might have found something startling, but if he resumed his sorting, she’d go on up to bed.
But instead of rustling papers, Nick groaned softly as if in pain.
Dominique flew down the stairs and rushed through the doorway of the office. “Nick?”
Wanted! Page 6