The Rancher's Dance

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  She laughed softly, much more naturally. “Sadly, no.” She rolled onto her back again, floating. The long ends of her hair drifted around her, grazing his chest.

  He didn’t move away.

  “My young heart certainly fantasized a time or two about it,” she went on a little dreamily.

  His jaw tightened to match the rest of his body. What were her fantasies now?

  He had to bite back the question but it just circled maddeningly inside his head instead.

  “Your dad and Susan seem to be getting pretty close.”

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t particularly interested just then in what his father was doing with Susan Reeves. He was, however, intensely interested in the woman floating within arm’s reach.

  And he couldn’t help but feel guilty about that fact.

  His head assured him he had no reason to feel guilty. But the weight of the wedding ring he still wore whispered otherwise.

  “My wife died three years ago today,” he said abruptly. “It took only three months from the day I found her collapsed in our living room until the day cancer stole her for good.”

  “Beck.” She flipped over in the water and swam close to him. “I’m so sorry.” Then she slid her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. That was not the response he’d needed.

  “Why didn’t you say so before?” Her hands slid over his back, wet. Soothing. And then she let go and water was once more sliding between them.

  He damn near pulled her back against him. “I shouldn’t have said so now.” He wouldn’t have if he’d thought it would bring out that full-body contact instead of ensuring she kept her distance. Somebody there needed to have some willpower, and he wasn’t certain that it could be him.

  “Why not?” She swam in his way when he took a stroke for the shore. “I thought we were becoming…friends.”

  Then he did reach out. He scooped his arm around her waist and easily pulled her against him again.

  Flat against him.

  So flat that the hard points of her nipples stabbed him through the fabric of her bathing suit.

  So flat that her legs floated up around his, and hugged his hips.

  “Is this how it is with all your friends?”

  Her lips parted. She stared up at him and wordlessly shook her head.

  “Then I’m not sure we’re friends,” he murmured.

  Only the soaking weight of his shorts and her bathing suit separated him from her. And it was the worst sort of temptation to know it. It would take so little to tug both aside. Then there would be nothing at all between them.

  Not even the warm, silky water.

  Because he’d be somewhere even warmer. Even silkier.

  His hands drifted downward where the edge of her bikini hugged the swell of her shapely rear.

  Her eyes went heavy and her lips parted softly. Her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him tighter against her. He could feel the shape of her breasts against his chest so clearly that her swimsuit might never have existed.

  “Then what are we?” Her husky whisper tickled his lips.

  His fingers flexed against her supple skin. They could be lovers if he wanted. He knew it.

  But then what?

  Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he forced himself to release her. To let go of her warm, wet body and the invitation that was there.

  He was going to take nothing. Not on that day.

  Not from her. Because she deserved more than he’d ever be able—or ready—to give.

  “We’re better off if we leave it at…neighbors.” Even as he said it, he wasn’t buying it. “Friendly neighbors,” he amended.

  This time she didn’t try to stop him when he struck out for the shore.

  He climbed out of the water and the cool air bit at his skin as he left the warmth of the water behind.

  “I think we’re more.” Her quiet voice carried across the water. “It’s okay to admit it if you’re afraid, you know.” Her voice was gentle, but her gaze felt impossibly intense despite the distance he was putting between them. “Maybe I’m afraid, too.”

  He looked back at her as he grabbed up a towel. “People often acquire a fear for good reason.”

  “There’s nothing to fear from me,” she assured.

  He almost laughed. Except there was nothing funny about any of this. “You turn me on,” he said huskily and watched her eyes darken and her lips part.

  And realizing he was damn close to pitching the towel and all good sense and going back to her, he cleared his throat. “But that’s all I have to offer,” he added. “So unless you’re just looking for one more way to pass the time until you go back to New York, we’re better off stopping before things get out of hand.” Feeling like a bastard right down to his toes, he dragged the towel over his chest and legs.

  She was out of the water much faster than he’d expected and she snatched up her own towel, wrapping it fast around her slender body, but not fast enough to keep him from seeing the rigid peaks of her breasts against the shiny red swimsuit or their rapid rise and fall with her breath. “If you wanted to get my goat, good job.” Her voice shook. “First off, not once have I ever implied that you or Shelby were just a means to get me through the summer. And second, I’m quite capable of deciding for myself what—and whom—I want. And deciding whether the risk of being hurt again is worth the effort.”

  And judging by her tone, she was obviously rethinking the whole risk and “whom” thing.

  Which was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? For her to lose that compassion that was always in her eyes. To put up her own walls between them so there was no chance she’d be susceptible to the desire he was controlling by the thin skin of his teeth.

  If she thought she’d been fooling herself where the cheating ex was concerned, she would be doing just the same now where Beck was concerned.

  And he liked her too well to add that onto her plate as well, no matter what she thought.

  She folded her low chair with a snap and yanked a pair of flip-flops out of her bag and shoved her feet into them.

  “Friendly neighbors,” she muttered as she snatched up her shorts from the ground where she’d left him. “You betcha.” Without looking at him, she carried her gear into the trees, her feet moving fast and the bottom of the towel swaying around her thighs.

  He looked up at the stars. Muttered a low oath when there was nothing but silence inside his head.

  He grabbed up his own stuff and followed.

  The truck engine was running when he reached it and he climbed in beside her. She didn’t say a single word to him on the drive. Not even when they reached his dark house.

  He knew he should probably apologize. Say something.

  He grabbed his stuff and pushed open the door. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “What are neighbors for?” But her voice was stiff, and the second he shut the door, she drove away.

  Beck went up the front porch and wearily sank down on one of the cushioned chairs there.

  He stared out on the drive.

  The taillights of Lucy’s truck grew dimmer and dimmer until they disappeared altogether.

  And still he sat there.

  “What the hell am I doing, Harmony?”

  But yet again, there was no soft voice inside his head giving him an answer.

  Along with Stan and Shelby, even the woman who’d been his conscience for most of his life had deserted him that night. It was no wonder he was making such a mess of things.

  And after a long while, he finally went inside the dark, empty house.

  Alone.

  When Lucy arrived home, the last thing she expected was to run into her brother. Particularly her brother in a clinch with a pretty blonde girl who was definitely not Kelly Rasmusson.

  They looked as shocked as she felt when she entered the living room, though. Even though she was pretty sure the tracks of the tears she’d shed—as much for Beck and the things he’d shared as for herself—we
re dry, she busied herself with her stuffed bag long enough to quickly wipe her cheeks. Then she approached them, sticking out her hand toward the unfamiliar girl. “I’m Lucy. Caleb’s sister.”

  The girl—well, young woman, really—looked awkward as she shook Lucy’s hand. “I’m Melissa.”

  Caleb, on the other hand, just looked grim. “Lis and I are at school together.”

  Because Lucy was rapidly realizing that “Lis” was probably the reason why Caleb had been so absent lately, she wasn’t overly surprised at the information. Nor was she feeling inclined to lecture her kid brother about the virtues of fidelity where Kelly was concerned.

  She was simply too tired.

  Or, rather, her heart just didn’t have the stamina for another battle. So she just told Melissa it was nice to meet her, and then headed toward the stairs.

  “You’re limping again,” Caleb said after her.

  She just nodded and continued up the stairs.

  Yes, she was limping. Because she’d twisted her darn knee when she’d been blindly stomping through the trees and away from Beck.

  And the way things seemed just then, she was beginning to feel like she’d never get over the limp, any more than Beck would ever get over losing his wife.

  Maybe he was right.

  Maybe some things weren’t worth the risk.

  Chapter Eight

  Lucy found Gertrude the next morning.

  Shelby’s stuffed rabbit was tangled inside the towels that she’d shoved into her tote bag.

  She pulled out the rabbit and sat on the side of her bed, holding it in her hands. Since she’d met Beck’s daughter, she had never seen her without the rabbit within close proximity. Gertrude went everywhere Shelby went.

  But not last night.

  She chewed the inside of her lip, then reached for the phone. But she didn’t call Beck to see if Shelby had started hunting for the rabbit. Instead, she called Ryan and Mallory.

  Even though it was early, she knew they’d be up by now and probably getting ready for church.

  Mallory—used to getting calls at all hours anyway—answered on the first ring. “Lucy,” she greeted, sounding surprised. “What’s wrong?”

  Nothing that a heart removal wouldn’t cure. “Not a thing. I just wanted to see how you and Ryan fared with the girls last night.”

  “Fine.” Mallory still sounded surprised. “They both passed out much earlier than we expected actually. Ryan’s just getting them some breakfast now. French toast. With whipped cream,” she added with a laugh. “As if that’ll help them sit still through church.”

  “Great. I, um, I was just curious.”

  “She’s a darling girl. How did things go with Beck after we left?”

  Lucy felt her face flush and was glad it was only a phone conversation. “Fine,” she lied blithely. “We just finished packing up and left ourselves.” An even bigger lie.

  “Mmm.” Mallory didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Guess we’ll see you later today at dinner?”

  Truthfully, Lucy had forgotten all about Sunday dinner. “Yeah.” She searched her memory. “At J.D.’s place today, right?”

  “Yup. Hopefully I’ll get through the meal this time without having to run over to the hospital for a delivery.” Mallory laughed again. “Not that I should complain that the new moms in Weaver are keeping me in business. See you later.”

  “Later,” Lucy echoed and hung up.

  She wiggled Gertrude’s floppy ears. “Don’t worry,” she told the stuffed rabbit. “Shelby still loves you.”

  Gertrude just stared up at her with her glassy black-bead eyes and curving, hand-stitched smile.

  Lucy left Gertrude on her nightstand and pushed off the bed. Her knee was still protesting a little but not badly enough to make her reach for the brace lying on the chair in the corner. She left her room, noticed that Caleb’s bedroom door was open and peeked in on her way downstairs.

  Empty. Bed messily made, not giving her any idea whether he’d actually used it the night before or not.

  She made herself some coffee, then went back upstairs to get herself ready for church, too.

  As she drove away from the house, Gertrude was on the seat beside her. She’d just give the rabbit to Shelby when she saw her at church.

  But as she neared the old Victor place, her foot lifted off the pedal and she suddenly turned.

  Her heart was raucously thumping inside her chest and her head warned her that she was making a mistake. Pushing too fast into areas that had been clearly posted against trespass. But she couldn’t get her foot to lay off the gas, and she couldn’t make her hands turn the wheel back around.

  And then it was too late anyway, because she was within sight of that glorious house, and Beck himself was in the front yard. Sitting on a riding mower, cutting swaths across the acres of green, green grass and wearing jeans and a white T-shirt and a dark brown cowboy hat. She knew he’d seen her, too, because that hat turned her direction.

  Her mouth ran dry and she pulled to a stop. “Okay, Gertrude,” she murmured as she grabbed the rabbit. “Wish me luck.”

  Then she climbed down from the truck and slowly crossed the grass, heading toward him.

  He cut the motor when she got there but didn’t budge off the seat. The cowboy hat shaded his face too much for her to see his expression, but the set angle of his jaw wasn’t exactly inviting.

  She held up the stuffed rabbit. “Somehow this made it into my bag yesterday. I didn’t notice until this morning.”

  He reached down and grabbed the toy. “You look like you’re dressed for church. Could have given it to Shelby directly.”

  He was absolutely correct. She was dressed for church. She could have given it right to his daughter. Feeling self-conscious, she twitched the ankle-length skirt of her gauzy white dress. “I know.”

  “Then why are you here? After last night, I figured you’d wash your hands of me.”

  It was still early in the morning, but the sun was already bright and she squinted a little, looking up at him. His wrist was hanging over the wheel of the mower, Gertrude dangling from his hand. She pulled her gaze away from the simple, manly grace of that tanned, strong wrist. “Well, either I’m a glutton for dirty hands, or I’m not that easily frightened off. I know that was your intention. Question is, was it just because of the day, or because of something else?”

  His lips twisted. She still couldn’t see his eyes and wished badly that she could. “It was a tough day for me,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t have tried spending it with you.”

  She hesitated, not sure how to take that. “Sometimes tough days are exactly the kind of days you do need to spend with people who care,” she said after a moment. “Just because I haven’t lost a spouse doesn’t mean I don’t recognize how painful it’s been for you. And honestly, Beck, the last thing I want is to make anything worse. Not for you. Not for anyone. I’m here for the summer. I just…” She lifted her shoulders, wondering if she was the biggest fool on the planet. “I think you’re a nice person.”

  His hat dipped even lower. “You haven’t made things worse,” he said in a low voice. “And you’re nicer than I am.” Then he held up the stuffed animal. “Harmony made this for Shelby. Before she was born.” He made a faint sound. “Shelby’s never gone a night without it.”

  Her heart squeezed. She’d figured as much, though she hadn’t realized Shelby’s mother had made the stuffed rabbit. “It obviously means a lot to her.”

  “Maybe.”

  She swallowed and moistened her lips, feeling like she was treading in a minefield. “Just because Shelby forgot it one night, doesn’t mean she’s forgetting her mother.”

  “She barely remembers Harmony. All she is to Shelby is a face in a bunch of photographs.” He looked away and she saw his wide shoulders move in a mammoth-sized sigh.

  Her eyes stung. She wanted to cry. For him. For his heart. And for herself because she would never know what it felt like to be loved s
o much. Not by him.

  She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the lump there. “Well, I guess I’d better leave you to your chores.” She had more than a few of her own to take care of back at the Lazy-B because Caleb seemed to be MIA once again. “I, um, I know you regret it, but I am glad you all came out to the C yesterday.”

  “I don’t regret all of it.” The corner of his lips tilted a little. “Just the part where I made an ass of myself.”

  She shook her head, telling herself to turn around and go. There were some things that she couldn’t have in this world and Beck’s heart was clearly one of them.

  “Look, maybe we can start fresh,” she suggested instead. She waved her hand. “You know, forget all about yesterday.”

  She felt his sidelong glance. “You are an optimist if you think I’m going to forget some things.” But then he shrugged. “But if you can forget…I can try, too.”

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t ever likely to forget.

  Not the words they’d spoken. Nor his smiles and laughter. And definitely not the fact that he’d wanted her.

  Physically, at least.

  “All right, then,” she managed as if she weren’t shaking inside. “If you want some breakfast after you’re finished, come on over.”

  His hat turned her way again. He tilted it back an inch and then she could see the expression in his hazel eyes. “I thought you were going to church.”

  She shook her head. “I changed my mind.” She forced a small smile. “It’s not necessarily a hangable offense around here. And breakfast is pretty much the one meal I’m actually competent at cooking.” Afraid he’d find some reason to decline, she turned then. “Offer’s open if you want. Neighbor,” she added casually, and started across the lawn toward her truck.

  The engine of his riding mower started up again.

  She blew out a thin breath and focused harder on her truck only to look over in surprise when he drove the mower up beside her, cutting diagonally across the absurdly neat rows he’d already mowed.

  His hat was still tilted back an inch on his head. “What are you fixing?”

  “Um…what do you like?”