by Dena Blake
After a short time, Kat relaxed into her chair, relieved that the woman who made her stomach tighten and her palms sweat seemed to have found someone else to occupy her time. She was deep in thought when DJ appeared in front of her holding two shot glasses filled with an amber-colored liquid.
“Try this.” DJ set one of the glasses on the table and pushed it to Kat.
Kat shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Afraid I’m going to poison you for sending me out with the cattle today?” DJ’s voice was low and deceptively tame.
Kat reluctantly picked up the glass and held it to her lips. She inhaled the intense aroma of the caramel-scented liqueur before letting a small amount float across her tongue. Pleasantly surprised at the taste, she held it up in front of her and stared through the liquid at DJ before filling her mouth with another sip and setting it on the table.
“Like it?”
“It’s not bad.” Kat did her best to conceal her enjoyment as the unique taste lingered on her tongue. “What is it?”
“Tuaca. It’s an Italian liqueur.” DJ lifted her glass. “I was a little surprised to find it here. Most places don’t stock it.” She skimmed the bar. “Apparently your bartender’s been around.”
“Really?” Kat’s voice rose. “I could’ve sworn he told me he was from some little town in Oklahoma.” She took another sip and stared over at the young, scraggly-looking bartender curiously. “I must have misunderstood.” She didn’t think she had. She’d have to ask him about it sometime.
DJ moved closer, her eyes widened, and she flashed Kat a mischievous grin. “There’s only one problem with Tuaca.”
Kat backed away cautiously, noting the flush, rosy color that had settled into DJ’s smooth, rounded cheeks. “What’s that?”
“It tastes really good and goes down smooth. But if you’re not careful, it can knock you on your ass.”
Kat drank the rest of it. “You just worry about yourself, Ms. Callen.”
“Whatever you say,” DJ said in a slow, even tone, then drank hers in one swallow. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bring me another,” Kat said. DJ turned at the demanding tone. Kat was caught by dark-green eyes, and her insides did an unexpected flip-flop. “Please,” Kat added, filling her voice with reluctant, sweet allure as she stared down at her papers. If Kat looked into those steamy green eyes again, she literally might do something she’d regret.
“Why certainly, ma’am.” DJ brushed against her as she left the table, and liquid gushed between Kat’s legs. DJ somehow had encompassed all of her senses. She hadn’t been so aroused in years. This was something Kat hadn’t seen coming and couldn’t seem to prevent.
As Kat watched DJ walk across the dance floor, her desire increased with her every step. Zing! There it was again, that feeling. Somehow, curly, unkempt hair, Miss Me jeans, and a flannel shirt made her even more attractive than before. It was clear there wouldn’t be any more work done if she stayed here tonight. She shuffled through the papers and snagged one out as DJ strolled to the table.
“Here you go.” DJ set one shot in front of Kat and took a sip out of the other as she slid down into the chair.
“And this is for you.” Kat handed DJ a single sheet of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Your work detail.” Kat gathered her papers and stood up. “I usually give first-time guests an every-other-day schedule, but since you seem to like working so much, I went ahead and put you on again tomorrow.”
DJ squinted at the schedule. “Lucky me.”
Kat picked up the shot of Tuaca and gulped it before leaning over to whisper in DJ’s ear. “Thanks for the drinks,” she said, knowing she was playing with fire. She caught a glimpse of DJ’s breasts. Only a few small pearl snaps were holding them captive, and she could easily pop them open in one swift tug. Kat closed her eyes as need shuddered through her. She turned and shot across the room, not stopping until she was safely through the hallway and inside the office. After closing and locking the door, she fell against it, clutching her papers to her chest and totally baffled by her own behavior. She should be staying as far away from DJ Callen as she possibly could, but instead she’d scheduled DJ to work right alongside her all day tomorrow. She tossed her papers onto the desk and dropped into the chair. Who was she trying to kid? Kat knew why she’d done it. She hadn’t felt a rush like that from any woman’s touch since she’d lost Arizona. It felt good to have these feelings and desires stirring inside her again. Kat wasn’t sure what, if anything, was going on between her and DJ Callen, but tomorrow it would be just the two of them, and she would have ample opportunity to find out.
DJ was still at the table when Kat came out of the office an hour later. Kat moved from table to table on her way out, stopping to chat momentarily at each one. She took an occasional peek over at DJ. When DJ’s gaze met hers, she smiled and took a quick left, circling around the bar away from her. The wetness in her jeans had just begun to dry, and now, with just a glimpse of her, Kat was completely soaked again. She hoped tomorrow didn’t turn out to be a huge mistake.
Chapter Seven
The vision of Kat leaning down to whisper in her ear last night played through DJ’s mind. The scent of her honey-sweetened tresses draped across her face still filled her senses. When Kat had asked her to bring her another drink, DJ hadn’t expected to react so strongly. She’d been mesmerized by how quickly Kat’s steel-blue eyes had softened and her lips had curved into the sweetest of smiles. At that point, bringing Kat a drink was the very least she wanted to do for her. She’d walk through fire for another look like that.
Yesterday, DJ had seen Kathryn Jackson as a demanding ranch owner with an unbending schedule, but last night a very different woman sat in the bar. A kind, beautiful woman who seemed to genuinely care about the people who took time out of their busy schedules to visit her ranch. DJ had watched her mingle, totally at ease in her own element, and wondered how a woman from such a prominent family had wound up in the middle of nowhere running a dude ranch all by herself.
The pounding on the door shook DJ out of her drowsy state. “Rise and shine, Ms. Callen.” Virgil’s voice came through loud and clear. “You decent?”
“Of course.” She didn’t sleep naked in strange places. She heard the lock click, the door flew open, and the light blinded her.
DJ smashed the pillow over her head. “I thought I locked that last night?”
“You did, but I have the passkey.” Virgil’s voice rang with an odd tinge of humor, as though he enjoyed rousing all the guests out of the sack at the crack of dawn.
DJ moaned and rolled over to peek at the clock. “What time is it?” Still adjusting to the light, she squinted. “The sun’s not even up yet.”
“Almost five thirty. Come on now. Breakfast’s at six.” Virgil went out the door, closing it behind him.
DJ swung her legs out onto the floor, reached to the bottom of the bed for her jeans, and tugged them on. She stepped into her boots, took her hat and flannel shirt from the bedpost, and headed to the bathroom.
The door clanged shut behind DJ as she wandered into the chow shack. She gave another foggy-eyed guest a nod before taking one of the thick diner-style mugs out of the rack. She slid the cup under the spout, flipped the lever, and let the coffee drain into it. She skimmed the area, caught sight of the short-order cook, and watched the man juggle five breakfast orders at once without missing a beat. After taking a sip of the piping-hot liquid, DJ winced as she strolled across the room and sat at the table across from Virgil.
“Is every day like this?” She rubbed her eyes and raked her hand down her face.
“Nope.” Virgil chuckled. “You’ll earn a day off if you make it through the first couple.”
“I’m gonna kill Marcia.” DJ brought the cup to her lips and slurped in a mouthful of the thick, black substance they had the nerve to call coffee.
“Who’s Marcia?”
“My assistant.”
<
br /> Kat’s voice came across the room, and DJ looked up to see her poking her head through the doorway.
“Virgil, you in here?” she shouted.
Virgil threw his arm up. “Over here.”
Kat continued inside, picked up a coffee mug, filled it halfway with the hot brew, and doused it with cream before making her way to the table.
“Did the boys set all those posts yesterday?” Her face twisted in response to the bitter taste of the mocha-tinted sludge.
“Sure did. Every last one of them.”
“Great.” She veered her eyes to DJ as though measuring her carefully.
“Good morning.” DJ looked warily over her cup at Kat, wondering what kind of torture she had in store for her today.
“Good morning, Ms. Callen.” Kat took another sip of coffee before setting the mug on the table. “You’d better put some food into you. You’re gonna need it today.” She turned quickly and headed out the door.
“What the hell is she talking about?” DJ dropped against the hard, wooden chair and watched Kat cross the room.
“Didn’t she tell you?”
DJ drew her brows together. “Tell me what?”
Virgil’s lips spread into a wide smile. “You’re working with her today.”
“How’d that happen?” DJ shook her head. The woman was confusing her no end. “I thought she didn’t like me.” She jerked her lip up, thinking whatever torture Kat had in store for her today wouldn’t be all bad if she could coax a smile or two out of her like she’d seen last night.
“Don’t get too excited,” Virgil said, apparently catching the glint in her eye. “Her work details are usually the hardest. She’s gonna make you use those muscles of yours.”
DJ didn’t mind. She liked using her body to the fullest, in work and pleasure. The hardest part would be looking at Kat’s curves all day without being able to touch them. After a sleepless night filled with erotic dreams, she wanted to do a whole lot more than that.
“That should be a treat.” DJ gave him a wry smile, then eased up to fill a plate with eggs, bacon, and homemade biscuits.
After breakfast, DJ stroked her stomach on the way out the door. She shouldn’t have eaten that last biscuit. It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself a country breakfast. Fifteen years, to be exact. She spotted Kat by the barn loading some tools into the bed of a beat-up old pickup.
“Why don’t you use the big truck?” DJ looked over at the Ford dually parked next to the house.
“That’s for towing the horse trailer.” Kat picked up a roll of barbed wire and hoisted it into the truck. “Old Blue, here, does just fine out on the range.”
As Kat reached for another roll, DJ stepped in front of her, creating a barrier between Kat and the truck, forcing her to stop and look at her. Kat’s soft, blue eyes drifted up across her face, meeting DJ’s in a stinging union. No one spoke, but DJ understood the woman standing in front of her this morning was offering a truce. Kat was taking the first step by putting herself out there. DJ wouldn’t disappoint her by refusing the offer.
“I’ll get that.” She took the roll of wire from her, then retrieved the last few from the ground and tossed them into the truck bed. “So, what are we doing today, Boss?”
“We’re gonna stretch some fence.” Kat lifted her eyebrows. “Have you ever done that before?”
“Nope. Never have.” DJ was lying. The first time she’d strung fence, she was only ten or twelve years old. You learned early on the farm, especially when you didn’t have enough money to pay anyone else to do it. DJ and her brother, Junior, had done these kinds of chores. Her sister Marilyn, a delicate wisp of a girl, helped their mother in the kitchen instead.
“Don’t worry. I’ll show you how,” Kat said with a smile as she walked around and slid into the driver’s seat without giving DJ so much as a glance.
“Whatever you say.” DJ spoke in her usual low, even tone. She gave the old rusted door a yank. It flew open and rattled loudly as it smacked against the hinge stop. She hopped into the cab and swung the door closed gently, afraid it might fall off any time.
“How’s the leg?” Kat asked hesitantly, giving DJ the once-over.
“Doing good, thanks.” She reached for the waistband of her jeans. “You wanna see?”
“No.” Kat’s eyes darted to DJ’s. Her cheeks reddened as she turned the key and revved the engine. “I’m glad to see you’re wearing the appropriate attire today.” She let her lips break into a smile. “Barbed wire can be hell on your legs.” She threw the truck into gear and hit the gas, throwing DJ against the seat, scrambling for the seat belt.
It didn’t take long to drive to the area high above the rest of the ranch. DJ hopped out of the truck before Kat could put it into reverse and back up to the fence posts. She stood mesmerized by the blanket of vibrant wildflowers leading down to the string of trees framing the river. Her mother always said that nature was a beautiful canvas, and she was right.
“Wow. Is this your property too?” She looked out above the trees, finding something magical about being able to look out so far on the countryside.
“Just to the other side of those trees.” Kat pointed into the distance.
“How beautiful.” She wasn’t exaggerating. In her youth, DJ had worked country like this, but she’d long forgotten it. The sight made memories flood back, giving life a completely new perspective, one she hadn’t thought about since she’d left the family farm years ago.
“That’s why I’m here.” Kat’s voice filled with the velvety sound of contentment as she walked around to the rear of the truck and opened the toolbox. “I hope these fit.” She tossed a pair of leather work gloves to her.
DJ gave her a playful grin as she slipped them on. “You take advantage of all your guests like this?”
“Just the ones who pay extra.” Kat smiled casually as she lifted the toolbox out of the truck and carried it to the first fence post. “Will you grab a roll of wire and bring it over here, please?”
DJ veered her gaze from the view. “Whatever you say.”
“We’ll do the top and bottom strings first, then fill in the middle.” She pointed to a completed section of fence they’d be continuing.
DJ nodded, still holding the roll of wire. “How long have you had this place?”
“Almost eight years.”
“How come you’ve waited until now to put up a fence?”
“My neighbor and I don’t see eye to eye on much.” Kat took the roll from her, then wrapped the wire around the wooden post and tacked the end to it. “Recently she’s been trying to take a few more liberties than I’d like.”
“Are we talking about your property or you?” DJ followed her to the next post.
“Both.” Kat handed the roll of wire to DJ. “Pull the wire as tight as you can.” She reached into her shirt pocket, took out a heavy-duty staple, and set it before she pounded the hammer against it to fasten the wire securely to the post. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” She raised her eyes, giving DJ a subtle look of what seemed like warning before continuing past the metal supports and on to the next wooden post.
“Message received.” She gave her a slight smile of admiration. She could see her putting anyone in their place if they got out of hand. What would Kat do if she took her into her arms right now and kissed her?
As the morning progressed, the two of them worked well together, like right and left hands, one not having to ask the other what to do. DJ actually found working alongside Kat enjoyable with or without occasional conversation. They’d talked about many topics, including horses, Texas, the ranch, and barbed wire. She’d even opened up and told Kat she had a brother and sister who lived close by. DJ had surprised herself with that disclosure, even though she’d let her assume they lived in Austin and that she had a good relationship with them. Something about Kat made her want to tell her everything. The only subject that created silence was Kat’s family. Each time DJ brought it up, Kat divert
ed to something else.
“You’re pretty good at this.” Kat dropped her hammer into the grass and headed for the water cooler. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a farmer.”
“What makes you think I’m not?” DJ followed her, took her gloves off, and slid onto the tailgate.
Kat took a paper cup from the dispenser, held it under the spigot, and let the water run into it. She handed it to DJ and filled one for herself. DJ felt the cool water all the way down. Kat finished hers, crushed her paper cup, and threw it into the truck before reaching up and tugging the collar away from DJ’s neck. “Pale skin.” Kat took DJ’s hand, stroked her palm with her fingers, and a jolt shot through her. “Soft hands.” Kat stared into DJ’s eyes and hesitated. “And your clothes, of course. No farmer would wear a hundred-dollar pair of jeans to stretch fence. I may be a country girl, but I’m not stupid.” She dropped DJ’s hand and headed to the fence.
DJ moved her eyes quickly, looking down at her jeans, then darting back up. “Maybe I’m a rich farmer.” She followed her to the fence, where Kat had started collecting the tools.
“Right, and your idea of a vacation is to be a ranch hand.” Kat let out a short laugh. “I don’t think so.” She narrowed her eyes before she walked to the box and dropped the tools into it.
“You hungry?” They still had a lot of work ahead of them, but for the past hour, Kat’s stomach had been rumbling. Running into DJ in the chow shack this morning had thrown off her routine. The sight of DJ looking so gorgeous first thing in the morning had made her too jumpy to eat. Food wouldn’t settle well. If she didn’t put something in her stomach soon, she’d be passed out in the brush before long.
“I could eat something.” DJ loaded the toolbox into the rear of the truck, then took off her flannel shirt and tossed it into the cab. It was warming up to be another hot, humid day.
“Get in.” Kat opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. She studied DJ for a moment and noticed that the red T-shirt seemed to accentuate her breasts more than the gray one had at the arena the other night. DJ gave her a subtle smile, and Kat warmed as she thought about letting DJ into her life a little more. Kat veered right and drove down the hill to the same shady area she’d ridden her horse to a few days before. After parking just behind the tree, Kat climbed up into the truck bed, slid a cooler to the edge of the tailgate, and then jumped down to lift it out.