by Cindy Gerard
Do not go there.
“I suppose you don’t watch movies, either.”
Feeling her face flush from her wayward thoughts, she shook her head. No way was she even going to think about sitting beside him in a dark theater, their fingers colliding in the middle of a bag of buttered popcorn. “No time. Between the practice and this house, I’m pretty well tied up.”
She could feel his gaze on her, watching her over the lip of his glass, and had to fight an unexpected urge to reach up and tuck stray strands of hair back into her topknot. She’d caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window above the kitchen sink. Her hair was a mess. Complete with a couple streaks of paint. She wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup. Not even lipstick.
And why should she, she thought in self-disgust. She was working here. She wasn’t out to impress anyone. Especially John Tyler.
He, however, seemed determined to impress her.
“So, I can’t take you to dinner or dancing or to a movie. Guess I’ll have to offer my services in some other capacity. How’s the wiring?”
Oh, no. That’s exactly what she didn’t need—a young superstud cowboy sauntering through her house looking capable and male and helpful. Even more, she didn’t need him in her house being capable and male and helpful. She was an independent woman, but one of the things she missed most about being half of a couple was that inherent skill a man seemed to be born with for fixing things. The way a man looked when he was taking care of things for a woman.
“I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.”
“Well, I can’t accept.”
He slanted her an amused look. “What? There’s a law or something?”
“Of course not. It just wouldn’t be right. You’ve got plenty of your own work to do without investing time in mine. How’s that calf, by the way?” she added quickly, determined to get him off the subject so he’d get the message that she did not want him here.
“He’s getting along. And I think I can decide whether I’ve got time to spare or not. Now, about that wiring…”
Ali wasn’t sure how he managed it, but somehow the persistent Mr. Tyler ended up staying through the morning, working alongside her until Peg arrived a little while later. Then she and Peg painted and he ran up and down stairs in his cowboy boots, T-shirt and jeans, into the attic, down to the basement and back to the main floor again checking out her wiring. By noon, she’d worked up a sweat just watching him. So, evidently, had he, because his T-shirt came off a little while later.
Peg, ornery soul that she was, made sure to point it out, then give Ali an earful about what a “hottie” he was.
“Hottie?” Ali snorted. “Sweetie, you’ve got to graduate from teen magazines.”
Peg just chuckled. “Look, I know centerfold material when I see it. That man has abs to die for.”
“Does Cutter know you drool over other men like this?”
“I’m not drooling, hon. I’m merely observing. You’re the one who’s drooling.”
“Am not.”
“Are, too.”
When Peg snickered, Ali threw down her paint roller in disgust—mostly because she might have been drooling. A little. And reliving that disturbing fantasy of his mouth on her breast.
She was pathetic. And not thinking with her head. Maybe it was the heat.
“Know what I think?” Peg used a thin brush to trim next to the woodwork.
“Would it matter if I said I don’t care what you think?”
“I think,” Peg went on, oblivious to Ali’s sarcasm, “that you’re lying to yourself where J.T. is concerned. I think,” she continued, way too smug to suit Ali, “that you ought to listen to your heart.”
“Believe me. My heart has nothing to do with this.”
But her libido did, she finally admitted and couldn’t stop herself from taking a peek when John walked by the door, a roll of electrical wire slung over his shoulder. His bare shoulder. That was muscled and tan. Like his chest and arms.
Had a man ever looked that good in jeans?
Oh Lord. She’d lost complete control. When had that happened?
And when had it gotten so late, she wondered later. More to the point, why did she smell pizza?
“Dusk to Dawn special,” John said, carrying a large pizza box into the house. “Don’t know about you two, but I’m starved.”
He plopped the pizza down on the floor in the middle of the protective paint tarp and opened the brown paper bag that sat on top of the box. “Bread sticks. And soda.”
“I thought you went to the hardware store,” Ali said.
He dug a small bag full of nails out of his hip pocket and held them up so she could see that he had, indeed, stopped at the hardware store.
“Wow. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” Peg stood abruptly. “I’ve got to go pick up the baby and head for home.”
“What? You’re leaving?” Ali scrambled after her when she headed for the door, panicked by the prospect of being alone with John. It was becoming almost impossible to keep thinking of John as the young boy she kept saying he was. “You can’t leave,” she insisted with an imploring look.
“What, you didn’t work me hard enough today?” Peg teased, deliberately ignoring Ali’s plea.
“No. I mean yes. Yes, I worked you hard. But…you need to eat something before you go.”
“I’ll eat at home. Cutter and Shelby promised to bring fish home from their camp-out. I’ll be expected to eat it.”
With a cheery goodbye, she headed out, leaving Ali exactly where she didn’t want to be. Alone with a man who’d been trying to get her alone for the better part of a month.
“Well,” John said, innocent as the proverbial babe. “Guess we’re having dinner together after all. Funny how that worked out.”
“Yeah. Funny.”
This cowboy was calculating and evil. And gorgeous. And too clever for his own good.
And thoughtful, she conceded, eying the box of pizza.
Urgh.
If she refused to share it, she’d look ungrateful and bitchy. He’d worked like a dog all day—on her house, regardless that she hadn’t asked him to. Yet he’d clearly known what he was doing and he’d saved her money and time.
The least she could be was gracious.
“I’m paying for dinner,” she said in a no-nonsense tone that invited no arguments.
Evidently he decided he’d pushed her as far as he dared because he didn’t argue when she fished a twenty out of her wallet and handed it to him cover the cost of the pizza.
“Okay. I’ll let you have your way…this time.” He reluctantly pocketed the bill. “But next time, dinner’s on me.”
There wasn’t going to be a next time, she assured herself. Somehow, some way, she was going to nip this in the bud.
“Yeah. I like it,” John said in response to Ali’s question about whether or not he liked ranching.
She’d decided that he was a safe topic while they munched on pizza and sipped soda in the middle of her dining room floor. He was all covered up with his T-shirt again—and she’d made sure she stayed covered up. Thankfully, the barrier of the added clothes seemed to be an effective deterrent because he’d backed off on his flirting. Either that or he was really tired. He’d already told her about his two sisters, one married and living in California, the other at NYU completing her masters in child development.
“Took a while to get to that point though,” he continued. “I was like most kids growing up, I guess. When all you know is the ranch, all you want to know is the fastest way away from it.”
He reached into the box for another slice of pizza. Ali couldn’t make herself look away from the ripple effect that small movement had on his entire body. Okay, so his clothes didn’t entirely stop her from thinking about what he looked like underneath them.
He was stretched out on his side, his weight on one elbow, one leg cocked, his knee swinging lazily back and
forth as he alternately ate and talked. As relaxed as he was, there was no mistaking the strength and condition of the muscle and sinew beneath his T-shirt and jeans. His forearms fascinated her. The way the veins running beneath his skin stood out like ropy rivers, like the muscle beneath forced them toward the surface, drew her attention again and again.
David had had a runner’s body, lean and long but with few of the fascinating bulges and contours this rancher wore and that told of the hard physical work he did on a daily basis.
“What changed your mind?” she asked, appalled to realize she’d just made a comparison between him and David. Heart beating hard in confusion and guilt, she had to concentrate to tune in to what John was saying.
“A lot of things. After I graduated I commuted to Bozeman and the community college. It was enough of a taste of the city that I wanted more, so I transferred to Colorado State. And to answer your next question, my degree is in computer science.”
That bit of information grabbed her undivided attention. “Really?” She’d never figured him for a tech head and he certainly didn’t fit the stereotypical nerd profile.
“Yup. Even own a pocket protector to prove it.”
He grinned and she couldn’t help but do the same.
“Did you ever use your degree?”
“In Sacramento, with a company developing computer games. Made good money, too, creating games so armchair warriors could play war and annihilate terminator terrorist types.”
He sobered abruptly. For a long moment, he simply stared into space. The room became eerily quiet until he seemed to realize he’d tuned out on her.
“But you gave it up,” she ventured, offering him an opportunity to pick up on the thread of his conversation.
He nodded, then drew a deep breath, as if he had to work to compose himself.
“Why?”
He looked at her, his eyes questioning.
“Why did you give it up?”
Another long silence. Another deep breath. “Because 9/11 happened. And suddenly war games didn’t seem like such a great way to be making a living anymore.”
Four
The room hummed with a silence that relayed Ali’s understanding and John’s regret.
“I lost a friend in the attack,” he said after a long moment. “While I’d been making games out of war.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, moved but not wanting to be by this new side of him. A thoughtful, troubled side that made her realize he wasn’t as one-dimensional as she’d wanted him to be—or as he’d like people to think he was. In fact she was beginning to think he was a very complex man. What he said next confirmed it.
“It’s an understatement to say that day changed my life. I did a lot of reassessing after that, you know? Didn’t much like what I saw…didn’t like that I felt what I was doing didn’t make much of a difference.”
He shrugged, glanced at her then away. “So I took my vacation and flew to NYC. Volunteered for everything and anything. At the end of two weeks…well, let’s just say I realized I’d taken our way of life for granted—our freedoms, our security. And I knew I wanted to do more.”
She watched his face, watched it harden, watched his eyes, sensing that he wasn’t talking to her as much as he was rehashing some decisions that had been life-altering.
“I gave my two weeks notice, walked into the nearest army recruiters office and enlisted. Patriotic duty and all that,” he added, his tone discounting that it really had been a patriotic and selfless act. Not to mention dangerous.
“And after my stint with Uncle Sam, I knew what I wanted to do and where I wanted to be. Back here in Sundown.”
She didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand that there was more, much more to the story than that. His eyes had grown vacant and dark when he’d mentioned his military service. Army. They’d seen—continued to see—a lot of action in the war on terror. Peg said he wasn’t the same person when he’d come back to Sundown.
Ali couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been in the thick of it, but sensed she’d be doing them both a favor if she didn’t ask. If he wanted to talk about it he would. And she really didn’t want to know. At least that’s what she told herself. She didn’t need to know any more about him. Knowledge, in this instance, wasn’t power. Knowledge—specifically about him—was weakening her position. The more she found out, the more she wanted to know.
She was beginning to like him, was more than a little intrigued by him, by what had happened in his past that had, for the briefest of moments, made his eyes go dark with pain. And no matter how desperately she didn’t want to own up to it, this attraction she felt for him was a little too strong.
It was…troubling. David had been her one and only. She’d never, in the past four years without him, seen herself with another man. Not as a lover. Not as a partner. Not in any capacity. So, it was unsettling, this effect John had on her.
Unsettling but under control, she assured herself.
“What about you?” he asked into a silence that had started to get uncomfortably long.
The fan she’d set in the open window drew in a pleasant stirring of dew-damp air from outside, cooling the room.
“Me? Not much to tell.”
“Humor me.”
The lighthearted flirt was back. Just like that. Like he’d flipped a switch.
“Okay…well, I had Ward and June Cleaver for parents, grew up in the ’burbs of Chicago and have two brothers I adore.”
“Nice, neat storybook life, huh?”
For a while, yes. Definitely a storybook life.
“Yes,” she agreed with a tight smile. “It pretty much was.”
He didn’t say anything when she didn’t elaborate but she could feel his gaze sharpen on her face as she shifted position, crossing her legs in front of her. She propped her elbows on her knees and dangled her soda between them.
“Bet you were a cheerleader,” he said with a speculative look.
That prompted a laugh. “Not quite…although one of my best friends was. I was the class brain.”
“Ah. Now there’s a heavy burden to bear.” A dimpled grin undercut his sympathy.
“One of my own making. All I did was study. Wanted to be the best, you know. Missed a lot of things I sometimes regret—dances, parties—but it paid off when I applied for college and then vet school.”
“Which brings me to a question that’s been bugging me. Why?”
“Why am I a vet? Because I love animals. And I love science and medicine.”
He shook his head. “No…I mean, why here?”
“You mean as opposed to some cushy small-animal clinic where the big bucks and easy money is made?”
“Exactly.”
She shrugged then hedged a bit. “I needed a change. Wanted to experience another aspect of the practice. And I’ve always had a thing for the mountain west.”
It wasn’t a lie, exactly. It just wasn’t the whole truth. He didn’t need to know that it had been David’s dream to come here. Didn’t need to know it was David’s dream she was trying to make come true. In fact, he didn’t need to know about David at all.
She was very confused about the physical reaction she’d had to John earlier. In retrospect, it felt very much like she’d betrayed David. Now, to talk about David to the man who had initiated that betrayal, well, it would be one more thing to feel ashamed about.
“Still,” John added, bringing her back to their conversation, “there are small-animal practices in a hundred little towns around here.”
She nodded. “I know. And I considered it. Honestly, I almost went that route…then the Realtor showed me Dr. Sebring’s listing and it opened up such a broad spectrum of possibilities.”
“Back aches, long hours…bruised chins,” he added with a hitch of his chin.
She smiled. Despite all the conflicting emotions darting around inside her, she’d relaxed a little around him. “This is true and maybe if I’d known then what I know now
I would have passed. Believe me, there are days when I think I should have, but in that moment, it was like the proverbial dream scene played out in my head. Horses, mountains, small town…and I made the decision on the spot to buy it.”
“Just like that.”
She took a sip of her soda. “Just like that. So here I am.”
“All by yourself,” he added, clearly fishing for more information about her personal life.
She didn’t intend to fill him in. “All by myself.”
“So, there’s no one pining away for you back in K.C? No Mr. Right?”
“No,” she said, heard the pain in that one small word and forced a smile. “Just my parents. They weren’t too pleased about me leaving. They helped me move, though, and once they saw Sundown they were pretty much satisfied I’d be back home by the end of the first week so that cheered them up.”
He chuckled. “I imagine it’s pretty alien to a city dweller.”
“Good choice of words. As far as they’re concerned, I landed on a different planet.”
“Well, welcome to Mars, Doc.” He lifted his can of soda in toast. “K.C.’s loss is definitely Sundown’s gain.”
She had little choice but to touch her own soda to his. “We can hope. I’m still learning the lay of the land…still struggling with the change to large animal practice, but I enjoy the challenge.”
“A challenge is definitely something I can appreciate and relate to,” he said, the look in his eyes intensifying as he watched her. “And like you, I always figure on winning.”
It was a loaded statement if she’d ever heard one and because it was, she ignored it. “Right now, my main goal is keeping my head above water. I knew it would be busy but never dreamed there’d be so much travel. That should settle down a bit by next week. Dayton clinic’s new vet is coming on board and he’ll fill a huge hole in the rotation schedule.”
“Between work and the house, you’re going to wear yourself out.”
She shrugged. “I like to keep busy.”
“To the exclusion of a social life?”