Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy)

by Leah Braemel

  What did they think, that they were her only claimant, her only case? That she would be happy sitting around twiddling her thumbs waiting until they got theirs out of their asses? Gravel pinged off her car’s undercarriage as she turned off the main road and into the Bull’s Hollow work yard.

  “Where’s your boss?” she snapped to the first hand who crossed her path once she’d discovered the ranch office empty.

  The ranch hand’s eyes widened and, as if sensing her mood, stepped back. “He’s round behind the horse barn, ma’am.”

  Ma’am? When had she become a ma’am? She stalked past the machinery and beside the barn he’d pointed to. The four-letter words and shouting she’d planned caught in her throat when she found her target, one foot raised onto the wooden fence, pulling denim tight over his very fine ass, his fingers scratching the neck of a gangly-legged foal who was still unsteady on his feet.

  “You’re a sweet boy, aren’t you?” Ben’s husky crooning melted the mental ice shield she’d erected. The foal’s ears flickered as he leaned into Ben’s touch.

  She knew first-hand how it felt to be touched by him. Even as they were both driven to satisfy their physical needs in the back of the truck, Ben had been gentle with her. He’d taken his time, made sure he wasn’t just scratching his own itch. They hadn’t just had sex, she’d realized, he’d made love to her.

  The realization floored her. She took a step back, her hand pressed to her mouth.

  “He was just born last night.”

  Allie jumped at the deep voice right beside her. Damn, she’d been so caught up first watching Ben and then in her own revelation that she hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t the only one in the yard, though more likely the hand had been watching the foal, not her. As she turned to face the new arrival, the wind whipped across the fields, sweeping her hair into her face. In an impatient gesture, she shoved it aside and held her hand as a shade to glance up at him. Since he was as tall as Ben, Allie had to tilt her chin high to look up at him.

  “I’m Gabe Larson. You must be Miss Allie.” Jet-black hair stuck out from beneath Gabe’s John Deere baseball cap. Unlike the other shit-shoveler, his teeth were perfect, bright white against sun-darkened skin.

  “I don’t know about I must be, but I am.”

  He tapped his temple and winked. “I’m not psychic or anything, Ben’s been talkin’ about a woman he knows working on his case and since there aren’t a lot of strange women who know their way around the spread, I figured you must be her.”

  “Gabe’s a real natural with the horses.” Ben abandoned the foal. His long legs covered the distance between them in an unhurried stride, but Allie’s breath caught with each step. How did he still have the power to affect her even after all these years? “If it hadn’t been for him, I don’t think we could have saved this little guy’s life last night.”

  Gabe buffed his fingernails on his shirt. “Not bad for a city kid pulled off the streets. Anyhoo, I gotta get back to work. The boss is a real slave driver.” With another wink, he touched the brim of his hat in an old-fashioned gesture. “I hope I get to meet you again, Miss Allie. Maybe I can show you some of the other colts.”

  Ben waited until Gabe had disappeared into the barn before he tucked his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. “Sorry I didn’t call you back yet, but I was down here helping Gabe last night, and then I forgot about phoning you back. Sorry.”

  Her irritation deflated as if he’d pricked a balloon, only to rise again slightly that her body responded so easily to him. “I thought you might be avoiding me, especially since Logan wasn’t returning my calls either.” Damn it, she hadn’t intended to be so strident. She softened her tone. “Randy Freeman’s secretary says he still hasn’t received a release from you. I know you want this wrapped up quickly but I can’t move forward until I’ve talked to him and I don’t have time to play telephone tag between the three of you.”

  Ben frowned. “Logan said he’d send the release right over a couple of days ago. I guess he got delayed. From what I hear, Charlie Carter treats the associates like they’re slaves.”

  One of the perils of working for a big law firm. Not that it meant she hadn’t busted her ass too. “I’m sure he is busy but he’s delaying your case. The sooner I can talk to George’s lawyers, the sooner I can get out of your hair.” The rest of it could be done from the safety of her desk in Houston. Far away from temptation.

  “You drove all the way out here just to say that? You must have really wanted to see me.” A grin flickered across his lips. “Maybe you’re hopin’ for a ride on my bale stacker this time?”

  “I didn’t—” she spluttered, then snapped her mouth shut. “Is that what you call it these days?” Why had she driven out here instead of just getting on the phone and yelling at Logan?

  “Uh-oh, you’re frowning. What’s the matter? You’ve been overthinking what happened last time you were out, haven’t you?”

  Had life with Lewis had put her on the defensive too much? She glanced around to make sure Gabe couldn’t overhear them, but he’d disappeared from sight. “What happened last time shouldn’t happen again, and being with you...” is just too tempting. “I had to drive into Abilene on another case anyway.” Liar. “It’s too long a commute to come out here for a casual drive-by how-ya-doin’ call.” Or a booty call either.

  “I’d drive five hours to see you.” He stroked one finger down her cheek, down her neck and over her shoulder. There was no way he’d miss how her body shivered with his touch, or her nipples jutting against her silk blouse. “Since you’re out here anyway, are you stayin’ for dinner? Maybe some dessert?”

  “It’s not a good idea.” No matter how much her body wanted to accept his invitation, she had to keep her distance if she was going to escape with her heart and her reputation intact.

  He rocked on his heels, his gaze skimming down her body, lingering on her cleavage—typical guy—and landing on her feet. He looked back up, his grin widening. “Sensible shoes today, huh?”

  “They’re my driving shoes. I can’t drive in high heels.” Why did he have to be so darned easy to talk to? Why couldn’t he be more like Lewis? Who would close himself off, claiming he was distracted by work—though she hadn’t realized just what type of secrets he’d kept from her using that excuse. With Ben’s easy grin, and “everybody’s my buddy” openness he wasn’t capable of subterfuge and made her want to be around him even more.

  Her assertion to Kathy that she wasn’t going to get into a relationship with Ben was looking less and less likely as each minute passed.

  “As much as I like the way those other shoes make your behind wiggle when you walk, I like these ones too. Because it means you can go for a walk with me.” He skimmed his hand down her arm, catching her fingers, and led her away from the barn.

  As much as she knew she should be saying no, telling him about the work waiting on her desk, she found herself walking beside him, past the pasture filled with colts and away from the barns, two of Ben’s border collies racing ahead of them.

  The awareness of how close he was to her, of their fingers laced together, of the way his thumb stroked the back of her hand set Allie to mentally chanting Be careful about falling for him again. Which of course made the most obstinate part of her body want to drag him under a tree, unzip his pants, wrap her legs around him and have hot, dirty sex until the cows came home. Literally.

  Get your mind off of sex. Talk about something else. But what? “Gabe seems nice.”

  Wow, wasn’t she the queen of small talk today?

  “He came to live here just after I left for college. Gramps knew Gabe’s mother or his grandmother, and they were desperate to get him straightened out before he ended up in jail instead of just reporting to a parole officer. Naturally enough Gramps agreed, but rather than dealing with him himself, he shoved Gabe on Pa to deal with.”

  “Sounds like what he’d do.”

  “What did Pa used to say about him?�
� He changed his voice and did a fair impression of his father. “‘I about quit and moved to California when Gramps told me I was responsible for this pimply faced fourteen-year-old with a Texas-sized chip on his shoulder and pants that barely covered his skinny butt. And talk about an attitude to boot.’ I can’t tell you the number of times the first year Gabe here, Pop would tell me how he pleaded with Gramps to rat him out to his parole officer, but Gramps was insistent that Gabe would straighten up. Luckily for us all, he did.”

  “I bet your grandmother wasn’t thrilled.”

  “Ma was more of the problem because Gabe and Jake immediately became fast friends.”

  She laughed. “It’s always the way.”

  He stooped to pick up a stick one of the dogs dropped at his feet and tossed it, both dogs chasing after it. “Anyway, Gabe drove everyone nuts for about eighteen months, spouting profanities and slacking off, and then all of a sudden something clicked and he manned up. When old Mr. Kyper retired, Dad made Gabe equine manager, and he’s doing a better job than the old man.”

  “That’s nice.”

  As they continued walking, they fell silent. Allie discovered she liked the silence between them, the way they didn’t feel like they had to fill the space. It was almost like they’d been when they were dating, when they could finish each other’s sentences and didn’t need to speak to know what the other was thinking. Especially since it gave her time to check him out.

  The chaps were missing again today, but it gave her a better view of the way his jeans hugged his ass and his thighs. The sun turned the reddish-blond stubble gold. Her free hand touched her shoulder where she’d discovered a light rash after they’d made love in the back of his truck.

  They passed a field of fresh-cut hay, the swallows swooping low over the fields to catch the insects the combines had disturbed. A half mile farther, Ben slowed to point out the various cows that were being good mamas, and to another who apparently had abandoned her calf. He had such passion about everything to do with the ranch. It was refreshing compared to the number of people she knew just putting in time to collect a paycheck.

  “Logan says you passed the New York Bar. He says it’s one of the hardest bar exams in the country.”

  “Not the hardest, but it’s up there.”

  He stopped walking, forcing her to stop too. “So why are you working as a claims investigator for an insurance company?”

  “You mean, why aren’t I working with a fancy law firm making the big bucks like Logan?”

  “Well, yeah. You’re as smart as he is.”

  Pleased by the compliment but not wanting him to see it, she bent down to pick a flower—the plant might be a weed, but it didn’t make it any less pretty.

  “Most lawyers don’t make more than about fifty thousand a year. Only the few from the top-tier law schools get the big bucks from the high-profile firms. Like Logan. But I didn’t go to a top-tier school.”

  The peace she’d found during their walk dissipated. “Not to mention that I don’t have references for my work over the past five years. Which,” she said bitterly, “is a black mark against me.”

  “You worked with your ex’s firm.” Understanding flickered across his expression. “That son of a bitch won’t give you a reference.”

  “Not him specifically, but his father, who is the senior partner.”

  “Why? Because you divorced his son?”

  “Partly, but mainly because he never approved of the marriage right from the start. I think he took great pleasure in blackballing me even though it was his son who cheated on me, not the other way around.” Seemed to be the story of her life. “Anyway, I got the job at SSTG because I knew Kathy.” Who had been one of her sister-in-law’s friends—and one of the few acquaintances who had stuck by her during her divorce. “When she heard I was looking for a job, she came up with one. It wouldn’t have been my first choice, but seeing as I had bills to pay in hurry, I didn’t feel I could turn her down.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers.” She kicked a stone with a little more viciousness than she’d planned.

  “So find another job.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, jobs aren’t exactly growing on trees these days, and lawyers are graduating at record rates.”

  He angled himself in front of her and stopped, frowning. “I remember you lecturing Logan back in high school about how he could do anything he set his mind to. So can you. Don’t let your ex or his family stop you from getting what you want. Explain to whoever you want to work with about what you’ve been doing, and how Lewis’s family is refusing to give you references. I’ll bet a lot of them have been through divorces or represented clients and have seen similar tactics. Hell, sue their asses for...I don’t know, defamation or something. You’re the lawyer, not me.” He cupped her jaw, the fierceness in his expression holding caught in his gaze. “Be strong. Don’t let anyone stop you from being who or what you want. Even me.”

  Her breath hitched at his passionate reminder. It had been a long time since any one had believed in her like that. Fifteen years to be precise. Unable to deal with the emotions swirling inside her, she took his hand and dragged him down the path.

  At the next pasture, three mares, one heavily pregnant, stopped their grazing to raise their heads and watch them pass. After ordering the dogs to sit beside Allie, Ben diverted from their path to call to one of them. “Hey, Miree, how you doin’, momma?”

  The pregnant mare flicked her ears and wandered toward him. Allie never saw Ben reach into his pocket but he suddenly had a carrot stick in his hand.

  “That’s my girl.” Once Miree had taken the treat, he lovingly stroked her neck.

  Allie climbed onto the wooden fence and perched on the top rung. “I used to dream of them, you know.”

  “Of who?”

  “Of the horses. Especially the foals, with their big eyes and the way they look at you as if they can see right into your soul.” Rather like the way Ben’s had just seen into her subconscious.

  “I used to think the same of you.” Ben’s voice turned husky. He stood behind her, resting his hands lightly on her waist. “I still do.”

  “Don’t.” Don’t tempt me to want a relationship with you again unless you’re dead serious. And the idea that she wanted to be in another committed relationship scared the living daylights out of her.

  “Don’t what? Don’t tell you I loved you?” His thumbs slipped beneath her top and stroked her waist. “Don’t tell you I was planning on going into Dallas that weekend to buy you a ring? Or that I was fixin’ to propose to you?”

  Her throat ached to hear his admission, and her knees weakened. Needing distance, she jumped down and stepped away. “Please. Just don’t. I can’t...I can’t deal with this right now.”

  He cupped the back of her head until she tilted it to look at him. An intensity that startled her filled his eyes. “I would never hurt you, Allie. Not then, not now.”

  His thumbs moved further beneath her shirt, and now his palms warmed her skin too. “I want more than just a truce between us. I want to know if we’re as good together now as we were back then.”

  “I’m not who I used to be.”

  “Of course you’re not. I’m not either.”

  Afraid of the desperate craving to agree with him, to touch his chest, to cup his face and kiss him senseless, Allie squirmed out of his grasp. “The other day shouldn’t have happened. It’s too fast.”

  “Maybe we rushed things,” he acknowledged slowly. “But aren’t you curious about me? About us? About how we might be together now? Didn’t the other day prove there’s still something between us?”

  “The other day was just sex.” Her admission tore the back of her throat. It hadn’t been just sex to him? She’d wanted it to be more, which explained the desperate fear inside her now. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  He tapped his chest. “It matters right here—” then moved his hand to hers,
“—and here too.”

  She jammed her elbows on the fence, staring at the mare who’d resumed grazing, rather than facing Ben. He was a Grady. This was Bull’s Hollow. The land, the cattle, they came first to him, over everything else.

  His hands squeezed her shoulders lightly, then slid down her side and wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his chest. “If you’d never met me,” he whispered, “if you’d met me for the very first time because of this case, would I stand a chance?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Definitely. She turned her head to meet his gaze. “Why are you so intent on chasing me?”

  His brows arched in surprise. “I’m not chasing you particularly hard, Al. If I was, you’d know it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re not the only one who can get hurt here. All I’m asking is for you to give me a chance. Pretend that we’ve just met. Go out on a date with me. I want to know who you are now. What makes you tick. You say you’ve changed—I want to know how.”

  She shook her head and pulled away, turning to clutch the fence rail in an effort to ground herself. “It won’t work. I can’t forget what’s happened between us.”

  “What’s happened between us? Not between Gramps and you, just you and me.”

  She closed her eyes, unable to stand the husky plea. The fence rail moved—he’d braced his hands on either side of hers.

  “Give me another chance. I didn’t run out on you or force you away before.” His breath brushed her neck as he leaned in. “I’m sorry that Gramps hurt you, but he isn’t me. I’d never hurt you.”

  “I know.” Did she? Or was she just so lonely that her body was convincing her to give in? “It doesn’t make what I’m feeling any less valid.”

  He stepped back, and she found herself mourning the loss of his warmth. “You never used to be a coward.”

  Damn it. She whirled to face him, her fingernails digging into her palms. “I’m not a coward. I’m a realist.” A realist who was tired of being hurt. Of being a pawn.