by Liz Isaacson
The painter came over and loaded his sprayer while a second man continued taping and the third headed out the front door. Belle took the tray Carlos had poured paint in and began cutting in the gray along the edges.
Jace’s mouth went dry watching her work. Sexy, and smart, and hardworking. A triple combination he couldn’t fight against. He grabbed a brush and joined her. “I’m sorry,” he said under his breath. “I’ll be nice, I promise.”
Her mouth tightened, but she kept the brush moving.
“You have a phone too,” he continued, unable to properly contain his own frustration.
“I didn’t think you wanted me to call.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you to call?” He swiped in time with her. Swish, swish. Swish, swish.
“You seemed upset after lunch.”
“I…most of that had nothing to do with you.”
She paused in her work and looked at him. He was glad he’d asked Landon to get all the boys to move the furniture this morning and then to head out to feed the herd, leaving them virtually alone in the building.
“Then why didn’t you call me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
She squinted at him. “I think you’re telling the truth.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. You know, you could be nicer too.”
Steam practically rose from the top of her head. “I—” Her green eyes sparked with fire, the flame leaping from her to him. In one swift movement—so fast he couldn’t move or stop her—she swiped a streak of gray paint across his hand and partway up his arm.
He jerked back and growled. “Oh, it’s a good thing you’re wearing coveralls.” He lunged at her, but his brush carried hardly any paint. He still managed to muck up both of her hands before she managed to dance away, giggling like getting painted was the best thing that had happened to her in ages.
The door to the lodge closed, and the third painter stood there. He took in Belle and Jace and their paint war before moving to Carlos. They spoke in Spanish, and the guy picked up the last brush and started edging way on the other side from where Belle and Jace stood.
“Guess he doesn’t want to join the game.” Jace loaded his brush again and went back to work. Belle copied him, but after only a few strokes, she pulled her brush across his clean hand.
“Oops,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Sorry?” He didn’t believe her mocking tone for one second. “You are not sorry.”
She giggled and happiness floated through Jace.
He couldn’t spend all day doing a job that wasn’t his, so after about an hour, he excused himself and headed to his office. His phone rang from the corner of his desk—his mother’s ringtone. Jace swiped on the call before considering if he was up to dealing with her.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Jace.” She sounded upbeat and happy when he answered. “Dinner at your dad’s place tonight?”
Jace fell into his chair with a long exhalation. “Who’s cookin’?”
“Dad.”
“Oh, then, yeah.”
“You know, I managed to keep myself alive for almost six decades.”
Jace laughed. “By ordering take-out.”
His mom laughed too. “All right, fine.”
“Should I bring anything?”
“Just yourself.”
Apprehension threaded through Jace. “Will Tom be there?”
“I’ve called him, but he didn’t answer.”
“He’s working, Mom.”
“You answered.”
“I don’t let my cowboys have phones on the job, and they’re all out feedin’ the herd.”
“Where you at?”
“Behind the desk.” He sighed as he pulled himself closer to the paperwork waiting for him. “I have reports to read and feed to order. You know, the glamorous side of ranching.”
“Well, I won’t keep you. Your dad’s place around six-thirty.”
“See you then.” Jace hung up and tried to focus on his work, but his mind kept wandering to the smudge of gray paint still on his knuckle. He’d washed, but that spot had survived. The memory of Belle’s giggle and shining eyes wouldn’t leave him alone. Maybe she’d like to come to dinner with him—
No, he told himself. He was not taking Belle to a family dinner, even if he felt like the largest fifth wheel on the planet. Mari would be there, and she was good for at least five minutes of conversation, as long as he stuck to horses and dogs.
Six-thirty came, and Jace arrived first to his father’s new house up the North canyon, past the waterfalls. He’d bought the land years ago and recently built himself a retirement home. He may have had to quit ranching before he wanted to, but he had a great place to live.
“How’s the ranch?” his dad asked.
“Cold.” Jace flashed a quick smile toward his dad, who stood at the stove, stirring a huge pot of chili. “How much chili powder did you put in this time?”
“Not enough.” His dad harrumphed. “Your mom, she can’t stand the burn.” He lifted the spoon out and considered the chili. “This is more like stew.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fantastic.” His dad had become a good cook over the years. The first few years after Jace’s mom left had been rough for all the Lovell men, Dad included. After that, though, he stepped into the role of both mother and father and learned what was needed. He’d been a good dad.
His dad wasn’t one to make idle conversation, but Jace didn’t mind. He didn’t need the silence stuffed with words, didn’t need to know everything about his father’s life, and certainly didn’t want to share all the details of his. Once his mother arrived, Jace would have to talk, so for the moment, he simply enjoyed the silence.
Until Dad asked, “You seein’ someone?”
Jace wrenched his head around so fast, he thought sure he’d kinked his neck. “What? What makes you think that?”
“Heard down at the gas station that you were seen holdin’ a woman’s hand.” He didn’t look away from the oven, like the cornbread inside required his undivided attention.
“It was nothing.” His words rushed over themselves.
“Nothing? You holdin’ your own hand, then?”
“No.” Jace’s jaw clenched.
“Who was she, then?”
Jace sighed. They’d reached the “then” part of the conversation, and his father would continue to badger him with questions until he got answers.
“She’s the ranch’s interior designer. I’m sure whoever saw us just misunderstood.”
The frown lines between his father’s eyes deepened, but he remained quiet. A loud knock sounded on the door, and Jace jumped. In the next moment, his mother walked in, followed by Tom, Rose, and Mari.
Relief roared through Jace—at least if his father didn’t mention the hand-holding again. During the commotion of saying hellos, Jace took his turn and retreated to the kitchen, where he brushed melted garlic butter on the cornbread.
“I think it’s time you started seein’ someone,” his dad said in a low voice. So low, Jace could barely hear him. Which meant his mother and brother in the other room certainly couldn’t. “She got a name?”
“Belle Edmunds,” Jace hissed. “Please don’t say anything.”
“Gotcha. It’s good to see you movin’ on.”
“I’m not—” Jace started to say, but his dad called, “Time to eat,” and Jace couldn’t deny that he was moving on.
He wanted to move on. He had for a while, but he didn’t know how. Maybe holding hands with Belle would help him down that path. He’d felt more alive in the three weeks with her than he had in the past six months. The invisible weight on his shoulders felt lighter as he settled down to dinner next to Mari.
“Hey, there, squirt. Tell me about Silver Creek.”
“Pompeii,” Mari said as she reached for a square of cornbread. “He’s new. Big horse.”
Jace grinned at her. “How many hands?” He caught the grateful look from bot
h Tom and Rose, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he didn’t belong in his own family.
Belle was true to her word, and she’d saved a huge part of the commission from Horseshoe Home. She’d also secured the first payment from the Rimrod Lodge, so she could afford to eat out. But she labored in the kitchen, trying to make her pancakes as fluffy and light as the ones she’d eaten at the diner.
“This is impossible,” she said after the third failed attempt. “No wonder Jace doesn’t like pancakes.” The man had been sneaking into her thoughts and dreams a lot lately. In fact, her world had been revolving around him ever since she sauntered into his office.
Someone knocked on the front door, and Belle wiped her hands on her apron as she went to answer it. “Ashley.” Belle couldn’t help that her voice went up into a squeal on the last syllable of her childhood friend’s name. Belle crushed her in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Ashley laughed and hugged her back with one arm. “Don’t smash the bread.”
Belle released her instantly. “You brought bread?” Her mouth watered. “How did you know I needed to carbo-load tonight?”
“Rough day?”
“Just long, with a lot of painting.” Belle rolled her shoulders. She hadn’t minded the work with Jace at her side. As soon as he’d left and gone back to his office, every minute painting felt like a year.
“What are you working on these days?” Ashley stepped into the house and Belle closed the door.
“The Horseshoe Home Ranch.” She led Ashley into the kitchen, where the evidence of her failed pancakes lingered. “Never mind this mess. Did you know making fluffy pancakes is impossible?”
“Oh, I know. They must have magic baking soda at the pancake house, because you can’t replicate that.”
Belle laughed. “It is magical.” She accepted the bread Ashley held toward her. “This looks fantastic.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she said. “It’s just banana bread, and I had my six-year-old help measure the ingredients.”
A shadow of sadness slipped through her. She and Ashley had been best friends in junior high, drifting slightly apart during high school. But Ashley went to college in Missoula while Belle escaped to California. During the years she’d been gone, Ashley had gotten married, started a family, and learned to bake. Things Belle wanted in her life.
“Do you want butter?” She pulled out a serrated knife and a butter dish.
“Of course. What’s banana bread without butter?”
Belle smiled as she sliced and buttered. “So, what are you up to these days?”
“Just sitting around, wondering why you’ve been home for a couple of months and haven’t come to see me.” The vein of nonchalance in Ashley’s tone was clearly forced.
“I’m…sorry, Ashley. It’s embarrassing coming home after….” She stuffed her mouth full of banana bread.
Ashley, ever the picture of determined patience, waited until Belle swallowed. “After what?”
“After getting fired.” She leveled her gaze at her friend. “I don’t think very many people know.”
“No one knows.”
“What are the rumors?”
“Haven’t heard many.”
Belle laughed, this time without mirth. “Right. I know this town. No one can go in McCall’s without getting some gossip.”
Ashley scoffed. “Not McCall’s. Please. We’ve moved past the gas station. Now we get all our juicy stuff at the cupcake shop.” She grinned at Belle. “Gentry opened it a few years ago. She’s a great baker and everyone loves her creations.”
Belle smiled at the memory of their friend. “Good for her. She’s just baking cupcakes? Not a full bakery?”
“Just cupcakes.” Ashley picked up a piece of bread and took a bite. “Oh, this is fantastic. Jackson will be so excited. He loves to cook with me.”
Belle smiled.
“So…word at the shop is that you have yourself a cowboy boyfriend.”
Belle choked on her banana bread. “No. That’s not true.”
“Jace Lovell? He’s a cowboy, right? Foreman at the ranch, right?”
Belle fixed Ashley with a glare. “He’s not my boyfriend, though. Spread that around.”
“Okay.” Ashley held up her hands in surrender. “All right.”
“Thanks for the bread. Tell your son he did a great job.” Belle didn’t mean to end the conversation. But she was done with this small town gossip. As Ashley headed for the door, she turned and gave Belle a hug.
“Don’t be a stranger,” she said. “Come to lunch sometime. Or dinner. Maybe we can drive down to Missoula and go shopping. Remember we used to beg our mothers to let us do that?”
“And they never did.” Belle smiled at the memory. “But we went several times anyway.” She chuckled. “Oh, if my mother knew….”
Ashley joined her laughter with Belle’s. “Have a great night, Belle.”
Belle returned to the kitchen and buttered another slice of banana bread. Since her pancakes hadn’t turned out, she needed something to take her mind off the day. Off her tumultuous friendship with Jace. Off the rumors flying around town about her new cowboy boyfriend.
If only she could quit thinking about him.
She huffed, turned her back on the last few slices of banana bread, and stalked down the hall to her bedroom. With clean teeth and silky pajamas, a sitcom on loud and the lights turned low, Belle was finally able to get her mind to stop long enough to fall asleep.
9
Belle worked alongside Carlos and his boys for the entire week. Jace didn’t touch a paintbrush again, though he did invite her and the painting crew to lunch each day. She told herself he would’ve done that whether she was there or not—and she believed it. Which didn’t make his invitations special. She ate among thirty men, and she’d never felt more out of her league. By the time she arrived at the house on Friday evening, she needed a pot of chocolate fondue and her fuzzy slippers. She settled for a cup of hot chocolate while she queued up her favorite romantic comedy.
Exhausted, she fell asleep minutes after finishing her hot chocolate, but the chirp-chirp of her phone woke her minutes later. Her heart raced and her eyes flew open. It took a few seconds for her to place the sound and reach for her phone.
Want to sit by me at church? Jace had texted.
She marveled at his stamina. He worked the way she had this week every week, all day, every day.
I didn’t see you last week. Landon said you were sick. How are you feeling this week?
Tired, she texted. I was actually asleep.
Oh, sorry. I’ll leave you to your nap.
Belle’s spirits, which had been rising, sank. Had she just admitted that her Friday night consisted of her dozing off? How pathetic did that make her?
She slumped back against her pillows. Her aching muscles and over-tired mind didn’t care what she’d just said. She managed to send one last text before she snuggled back into her blankets.
Yes, I’ll sit by you at church.
The time for church came quicker than Belle expected. She blinked and Saturday was gone, took a breath and found herself walking into the chapel for services, her gaze sweeping from left to right as she searched for Jace.
She didn’t have to look far. He stood just inside the doors, obviously waiting for her. “Mornin’, sunshine.”
She warmed from the inside out with the simple sound of his voice. “Morning, boss.”
His eyes hardened into black marbles. “Don’t.”
“Relax, Jace. I was joking.”
He visibly softened from the set of his shoulders to the clenching in his jaw. He offered her his arm and she took it. Every eye in the place seemed fixed on them as they strolled down the aisle to a bench near the front. She normally didn’t put herself on such display, but her brother had saved a space on the end of the bench for Jace.
Shock waves traveled down her back. She hadn’t discussed her attraction to
Jace with Landon, with anyone. Jace obviously hadn’t either, because as he ushered her onto the bench so she could sit next to her brother, Landon did a double take.
“Belle.” He half-stood, his gaze moving between her and Jace. Landon sat again and gave Belle an awkward side-hug. “You here with him?”
“No,” she said quickly. “We were just walking in together.”
Landon gave a curt nod and turned back to the front of the chapel. Jace pressed in closer than necessary, his leg nearly flush against hers. She sucked in a breath when his hand found hers and settled their joined fingers on his leg.
“This okay?” he murmured. “Or did you want to keep lyin’ to Landon about meetin’ me on the way in?”
She turned to look at him, and found him close. So close. Too close. Close enough to kiss if she wanted to. And oh, she wanted that kiss. She licked her lips as she tried to settle her pulse.
“I—I didn’t know what to say,” she whispered. “Do you think he’ll be upset?”
“Why would he be upset?”
“Well, I—I’m his little sister.”
“Yeah, and we’re adults.” Jace’s warm breath cascaded over her shoulder, causing her nerves to riot and her desire for him to skyrocket. “But you’re right. I should probably talk to him before we start datin’.” He leaned down, his mouth almost touching her earlobe. She didn’t dare breath, couldn’t even move.
“That is, if you want to admit you like me and didn’t just find me lurking in the lobby.”
The pastor got up, but Belle whispered, “Fine, I get it. You’re mad I didn’t—”
“Shh.” Jace shushed her—actually shushed her—at the same time he put a healthy foot of distance between them and removed his hand from hers. He cast her a sour glance when she looked at him for an explanation.
She glared back. Belle expected him to look away once the opening song started. Then she’d win. But he didn’t. Just stared at her with that dark, dangerous glint in his eye that did more to excite her than it did to scare her.
She scooted closer. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”