Just. Talking.
They were going to be neighbors, after all.
“I was probably hauling hay or moving irrigation pipes.” He gave her an easy smile.
Mercedes’s gaze dropped to his lips for a split second. Darn it all if he didn’t have perfectly kissable lips. Suddenly the world was buzzing. Mercedes wondered if it was some crazy reaction to Chet. She leaned away, hoping to get a little space, when a deep pain erupted just behind her ear.
“Ow!” Mercedes jerked and swatted at her ear. “Ow. Ow. Ow.”
“What’s the matter?” asked Chet.
“I don’t know.” Tears sprang to her eyes. There was a small but effective fire building at her jaw. She gingerly touched behind her ear and a bee flew out before dropping by Chet’s boot.
“Ow. I can’t believe how much that hurt.” She looked away. Her eyes prickled with the initial pain. What a baby, crying over a little bee sting. Only, it didn’t feel little. After a second, the moisture cleared up.
Chet picked up the dead bee and examined it. “The stinger’s gone.”
She gingerly brushed her fingers over the spot. “It feels like it’s still in there.”
Chet reached out and stopped her hand. There was a zing. Though just as rattling as the one the bee gave her, this one felt quite different. “If it’s stuck, rubbing it will only make it worse.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Will you look?” She turned to the side so he could examine the sting.
Chet brushed away a strand of hair that had slipped out of her bun, sending shivers down Mercedes’s arms. She glanced up, desperately searching for Cat. It would be so much safer to have Cat this close instead of a man who smelled like axle grease and body spray. Chet leaned in, and she fought the urge to melt in his general direction. Get a grip girl, he’s only checking the damage.
“It’s still there. Come on inside; I’ve got a first aid kit.”
Inside the house? Alone? Mercedes swallowed and probed behind her ear. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Chet’s help. They stood, and she let him put a couple steps between them so she could think.
“Have you ever been stung before?” he asked as they circled the family to reach the back door.
“Not that I can remember.”
“Do you know if you’re allergic?”
“I don’t think I am. I can still breathe and everything.”
“That’s good.” Chet opened the back door and ushered Mercedes inside. “Sit here and I’ll be right back.” He pulled out a barstool and made sure she was comfortable before disappearing down the hall.
Mercedes looked around. The cabinets were older and the countertop looked beat, but the sink was new and everything was tidy. She swiveled around to face the living room area. The wall directly opposite her was one huge bookshelf with space for a flat screen in the middle. Books lined up. They weren’t arranged by height or stacked or decoration. They were crammed in there. Mercedes loved it.
Directly under the TV was a built-in entertainment system. It looked like maplewood, but she’d need to get up close and inspect the grain to be sure. The piece was well-made. She wondered if Chet built it ... or maybe his dad did.
Mercedes let out a sigh. The pain just under her skin was getting worse, and she was exhausted. They’d been on the road since four that morning and hadn’t stopped since. She lay her head on the counter, stinger side up, to rest for a moment. It was oddly comfortable with the cool countertop against her cheek. She started going over her mental to-do list and felt even more tired.
“Mercedes!” Chet yelped.
She popped up, blinking. “What?”
Chet pressed his hand to his chest. “You scared me; I thought you’d passed out or something.”
“Sorry, I think the drive is catching up to me. It’s been a long couple days and there’s so much to do.”
Chet set the med-kit on the counter and opened it up. The tweezers were right on top. “Let me get that stinger out.” He hooked his finger under Mercedes’s chin and tipped her head to the side.
Her stomach tightened and she gripped her chair.
Chet cleared his throat. “It’s swelling. I’m going to have to dig in a little to grab as far down on the stinger as possible.”
“Why? Will it hurt?”
“It might hurt for a second. The further down I can grab it, the less poison will be released.” He probed around for the best approach.
“Poison?” She shook her hands. “I’m not usually squeamish about things like this.” She pointed to a scar on the back of her hand. “I guess it comes with being a nurse’s daughter. At seven I watched them stitch me up without a tear.” She looked around and her head moved away from the tweezers. “I need to think of something else.”
He hooked her chin. “Hold still.”
“I can’t.”
“Hang on for just a second and I’ll have this out.”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “You talk.”
“What?”
“Talk about something, anything. Have you ever been stung?”
“Yeah, I’ve been stung. I think every kid in Snow Valley gets stung at least once.” He turned her chin back to the side and ran his finger around the swelling.
Mercedes shivered under his gentle touch. Stay focused. Guys were off limits for a while. “Who pulled the stinger out for you?”
Chet moved the tweezers in place. “My mom. She had this routine when any of us got hurt. She’d clean us up, put a Band-Aid on, and kiss the Band-Aid.”
For a flash, Mercedes wondered what it would be like to kiss Chet. It was a rookie move for a girl who had sworn off men a little over a week ago. She was caught up in how his three-day stubble would feel under her palm when he ripped her out of her daydream by pressing the cold metal against her skin.
“Okay, here I go.”
Thankful to be back on safe ground, she sucked in. It was over fast, even faster than it took for the bee to sting her in the first place. The pain lessened but didn’t go away. It was like an echo that just wouldn’t die out.
“There.” He threw the stinger into the barrel next to the counter and used an alcohol pad to wipe off the tiny wound.
Mercedes turned her head and they were close, real close.
Chet brushed his fingers up her arm, and she shivered again. Her eyes dropped to his very kissable lips as he searched her face with those incredible blue eyes. “No trouble breathing or tightening in your chest?”
How was she supposed to answer that? There was a tightening in her chest, but it had more to do with the way he looked at her than it did with the dumb bee sting. Why was she such a sucker for a handsome face? It was time for change. From this moment on she was going to be strong. No more thumping hearts or swooning.
Chet tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
Mercedes pressed her lips together. What were they talking about? “Um …”
“Chet?” David poked his head through the door.
Chet jumped away from Mercedes, and she rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. For a moment there, she’d lost her focus. There was a reason she was vulnerable around Chet, It had to be the exhaustion … and the hunger. That was it, she was hungry-delusional. That was an actual thing, right?
“What?” Chet asked. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked ... guilty.
Hmm, that was … interesting.
David wiggled his eyebrows, and Chet glared. “We need the other propane tank. Did you get it filled?”
“Yeah, it’s in the garage.”
“Will you grab it? You know, if you’re not getting busy in here.” David grinned. “I mean, if you’re not too busy.”
Chet clenched his jaw. “I’ll be right out.”
“We need it now. I can get it, if you two are in the middle of something …” David let the implication hang there.
Mercedes flipped the first aid kit closed. She couldn’t let Chet take all the heat, not when he’
d been helping her. “I think we’re done,” she said in what she hoped was a casual voice.
“I’ll get it.” Chet walked over and shut the door before David could say anything else. He turned around and looked everywhere but at Mercedes. “I think you should be with people, just in case. I have a lounge chair in the garage you can use to rest.”
“Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
“You’re welcome.” Chet slid the back door open and motioned for Mercedes to go first.
Whitney was right there when she stepped out, and Mercedes wondered if David had sent his wife to check on them. “What’s going on, you two?”
Chet rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something about propane before his long legs took him toward the garage. Mercedes watched him go, wondering whether he’d felt any of the sparks she did or it was just her being her.
Whitney nudged Mercy with her elbow and gave her a knowing smile. “It’s hard not to stare—they are a good-looking bunch. But don’t be fooled: Chet may look like he’s cut from the same cloth, but the Lord used a different pattern when putting him together.”
Mercy smiled to hide her embarrassment at being caught checking Chet out. “How do you mean?” She followed Whitney over to the buffet table, took a heavy-duty paper plate and loaded it up with potato salad, raw veggies, a hamburger bun, and a huge peanut butter cookie.
“What’s going on?” asked a woman with sandy blond hair and what Mercy was starting to recognize as the Bauer eyes: blue as the sky with a hint of ice. With the highlights in her hair, the eyes weren’t as startling on the woman before her as they had been when peering out from under Chet’s baseball hat.
“Hi, Vicky. I was just about to fill Mercedes in on Chet’s obsession.”
“His books? He’s a cinch to buy a Christmas present for.” She laughed. “He’s got great taste and he doesn’t mind loaning them out. If you ever need something to read, Chet’s got it covered. He’s like the Bauer family library.”
Mercedes wondered what it would have been like to grow up in such a large family. Taking in the yard, she noticed that the children ran free and the adults and teens mixed easily. Aiden was back to throwing the football, and the younger girls gathered at a small table having their version of a tea party. Her fingers itched to sketch the scene, and she studied it to imprint the colors in her mind.
“Hello?” David waved a spatula in front of her face.
“Sorry.” Mercedes smiled. “I was just … what did you ask?”
“Chicken or burger?”
“Chicken.”
David put a piece of fried chicken on her bun and winked. “If Chet gives you any grief, you come to me, okay?”
Mercedes looked quickly away. Had her attraction to Chet been that obvious? It wasn’t her fault his touch made her shiver—and not in the I-feel-a-draft kind of way, but in the holy-cow-you’re-incredibly-hot kind of shivers. She didn’t expect to have any issues with Chet, because she was going to steer clear of him from now on. Only time apart would keep his family from assuming they were an item. Her cheeks grew warm.
David laughed.
“You leave her alone or she’ll never come back.” Whitney smacked David’s shoulder.
Just then, Chet arrived, holding a fold-up lounge chair in one hand. His shirt pulled tight over the muscles in his arm as he hefted the wood frame. “I have to run. Wade called. One of the steers is stuck in the fence between our place and his. He needs some help.”
A battle raged inside Mercedes. She’d sworn off good-looking men, and this guy was as good-looking as they come with his dark blonde hair, tan skin, and well-formed muscles.
On impulse, she pressed her plate into his free hand. “Here, take this.”
Chet looked down at the plate and then back to her. “I can’t take your dinner.”
“I can make another plate.”
Chet began to protest. “But—”
“I’d feel bad if you missed dinner because you were helping me.”
“Well …”
“Oh, go on.” Whitney shooed him away. “The sooner you get up there, the sooner you can get back.”
Chet moved away several steps and then turned back. “I almost forgot.” He handed the chair to David. “Will you set this up for her?”
“I can do that.” Mercedes reached out to take his burden.
“Nope, it’s against the rules around here.” Chet smiled easily and handed the chair to David.
Mercedes let her hand drop. Her dad would have said the same thing.
“Sure.” David set down his spatula, and Chet hurried off, turning and waving before disappearing around the corner of the house.
Mercedes held back her sigh of contentment. No. Swooning.
“Where do you want to sit?” asked David.
“I guess by Cat would be good.”
“Okay.” David made his way over and set up the chair.
Mercedes stared after him.
Whitney smiled. “That’s the other thing that’s irresistible about the Bauer men. They know how to treat a lady.”
Well, crap—how would she ever stay away from a guy as good-looking as Chet if he was also a gentleman?
Chapter 5
It was well after dark before Chet made it home. The steer had done a number on the fence, tangling barbed wire as if it were yarn. In the process, he’d cut himself pretty deep and required a set of stitches. Wade called the vet while Chet kept the steer calm. Chet wanted to throw something; that bill would set him back a pretty penny. But things like this happened. It was a way of life with animals. He just didn’t know how many more of these surprises he, or his bank account, could take. At this rate, he wouldn’t make his next mortgage payment. Losing the ranch was a possibility Chet wasn’t ready to face. He just needed to have faith that things were going to work out all right.
After a warm shower, Chet collapsed onto his bed, ready to sleep the night away. His eyes landed on the first aid kit on his night stand. One of his sisters must have brought it in here when they cleaned up after the party. His train of thought wasn’t all that long: party—Mercedes.
She was something else. He had no idea girls like that existed. He recalled the way her hair smelled like coconuts and dust, like she’d been working right up until she came to the barbecue.
That’s the difference between a girl like that and a guy like you … He flipped to his other side. I show up looking like a hick in my dust-covered pants and sweaty hat, and she looks like she walked off the queen’s float at the Founder’s Day Parade.
He scrunched up his pillow, threw his hands behind his head, and replayed the few moments they’d shared. When he got to the part where he almost kissed her, he groaned. How stupid would that have been?
Hi, welcome to my home—no, welcome to my state. I’m glad you’re here and I’m going to kiss you now.
Idiot!
Well, at least David had saved him from embarrassing himself. Not that David hadn’t embarrassed him plenty. Chet groaned again. He hadn’t been that humiliated since David hung his Star Wars underwear on the clothesline right before his tenth birthday. When he and his friends ran out to play football, they were greeted by the whole cast flapping away in the summer breeze.
He wasn’t going to let anything like that happen again. No sir. He was going to stick to his side of the fence from now on.
Chapter 6
A couple days later, Mercedes stumbled into the front room, her bunny slippers swooshing across the hardwood floor. It really was a beautiful floor. People paid good money back home to get the distressed look she had uncovered with a broom and some Murphy’s Oil Soap. The honey-colored pine glowed in the morning light, and it gave her energy to attack their project for the day: removing wallpaper from the master bedroom.
“What are you working on?” Mercedes asked Cat as she entered the family room.
Cat slammed her laptop shut. “Just checking my email.” She looked at the floor, the ceiling, and th
en finally made eye contact with Mercedes. “Still can’t get cell service out here, but Wi-Fi is loud and clear.”
Mercedes studied her sister. “Gotta love those satellites.”
“Yeah, where would we be without them?” Cat’s laugh was too high-pitched.
Mercedes shrugged. “Are you ready to go to town? We need to pick up some supplies.”
After the amazing food at the barbecue, both girls had slept deeply and woken up early the next day to drive to Billings to drop off the moving truck. While they were there, they’d stopped at the Home Depot and loaded up on cleaning supplies. They’d grabbed canned soup and enough take-out to last them through a couple of days, donned pink rubber gloves, and attacked the house. Today was meant to be another work day, but Mercy wasn’t going to get far on an empty stomach.
Cat hooked her hand behind her neck and asked, “What do you think about saving the kitchen remodel for last? We’re going to need it.”
“Fine with me. Those cabinets have a zillion screws. It’ll take forever to get them out.”
The drive into town was uneventful. Cat’s car bounced along the dirt road. “I’m going to need a new set of shocks before the summer is over,” she complained.
Snow Valley lacked one very important tool for remodeling a farm house, a hardware store. Dove’s, the local grocery store, had a handyman’s aisle with items like washers and screws and such. For the bigger tools, tool rental, and other things, the girls learned the IFA was the place to go. Mainly a feed store, the IFA was located a few blocks off Main Street. Two trucks had backed up to the loading dock. Several men in Wranglers and cowboy hats stopped loading the pickups and smiled at the sisters.
Cat ducked her head and plowed toward the store’s entrance. It was common practice back home to keep your head down in certain areas of town. Men took any encouragement, even something as simple as making eye contact, as an open invitation to whistle or catcall after a woman.
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