By four-thirty he’d showered, shaved and dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans. A faint wash of gray rimmed the horizon as he walked up to the ranch house, but the sun wouldn’t be up for another hour. He could hear Herb whistling in the barn while he fed the horses.
Normally, Damon would have stopped by to give him a hand, but he wanted a chance to talk with Rosie alone. A light shone from the kitchen window, which meant Rosie was up and working on breakfast as she’d done for all the years he’d known her.
Herb didn’t have a talent for cooking, but he’d always helped clean up the kitchen after the meal. The boys had been assigned to barn duty, helping Rosie cook or clean up. Chores had been rotated to give everyone a shot at every job, but if someone turned out to be especially good at something, he usually got to do it more often. Cleanup had been Damon’s specialty. Still was.
Rosie had on old jeans and a plaid shirt that had seen better days—her typical uniform when she would spend the day cooking and cleaning for a party. She had biscuits in the oven, but she hadn’t started on the rest of the meal or made the coffee.
She put a large cast-iron skillet on a back burner and gave him a quick smile. “You’re up bright and early. Excited about the party?”
“Yes, ma’am.” As a kid living here, he’d been all about the parties. When you were thirteen and you’d never had one, you tended to get excited about the prospect of a celebration. He’d outgrown that, mostly, but to Rosie, he’d always be the boy who loved parties.
And he was looking forward to it, even if it meant he wouldn’t get to be alone with Phil until late. Lexi’s parents, two people he liked a lot, would be there, along with various other friends Herb and Rosie had made over the years. Plus at least two other guys who’d lived here as foster kids had promised to come. It would be great to see them again and find out how they were doing.
He was especially interested in talking with Ty Slater who had a successful law practice in Cheyenne. Ty was handling the legal aspects of the Kickstarter program, and Damon wanted to know all the particulars. So much depended on the success of Thunder Mountain Academy.
He crossed to the counter. “Want me to start the coffee?”
“That would be wonderful.” She took a package of bacon out of the refrigerator and began laying strips of it in the skillet. “Seems like old times, having you in the kitchen helping out.”
He dumped beans into an electric grinder. “I know. I’ve missed it.” He hadn’t meant to say that. Sure as the world she’d latch on to a statement like that. He turned on the coffee grinder partly to cut off her inevitable comment.
Of course that didn’t work. She folded her arms and waited until the high-pitched whining stopped. Her determined blue gaze settled on him. “You could always move back here. I’m sure you could find houses to flip in Sheridan.”
“Not in the volume I have in Southern California.” He smiled to soften his response. “A highly populated area is better for what I do.” He dumped the ground coffee into the basket.
“Yes, but our cost of living is less, and if you’re not happy, then—”
“I am happy.” He went to the sink and filled the carafe with water. “I love my job. In fact, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay.” The bacon sizzled in the pan, and she turned her attention to it, flipping it over with a long-handled fork. “Could you please get a carton of eggs out of the fridge? I forgot. My mind’s on a million different things this morning.”
“I’m sure it is.” He hadn’t thought about her being in party mode this morning. It might not be the best time for this little talk, but tomorrow would be too late. It was now or never.
He set down the carafe and opened the refrigerator. It was packed with the makings for party food, which was a sight that always gave him a lift. He handed her the eggs and went back to pour the water into the coffeemaker and turn it on. “I don’t think I ever explained why I love flipping houses.”
“I know you like fixing them up.” She began cracking the eggs into a bowl.
“I don’t just like it. I love it. A house is usually in terrible shape when I move in, but by the time I move out, it shines. I can’t wait to show it off. When someone buys it and I hand them the keys, it’s a real rush.”
Rosie glanced up as she continued to beat the eggs with a wire whisk. “I can understand that. We have trashed houses in Wyoming, too, you know.”
“Not enough of them within driving distance to feed my habit. But that’s not the point I want to make. Moving into a house allows me to work on it whenever I feel like it, which suits me. When I’m constantly there, I think of ways to fix it that might not occur to me otherwise. I’ve found a perfect method.”
“I see.” She turned back to the stove. “How about monitoring the bacon while I scramble the eggs?”
“I’d be glad to.” He joined her at the stove.
“This really is like old times.”
“And they were good times. I promise to visit more often.” He flipped the bacon and turned down the heat. “But back to what I was saying. Do you understand how satisfied I am with my job?”
“I do, but it would be a hell of a life for a family.”
“That’s why I don’t plan on having one.”
“But—”
“Mom, not everyone wants to get married and have kids. I like my life as it is.”
She stirred the eggs. “You’re saying all this because of Philomena, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I like her. I like her a lot.”
“So I figured when you hitched a ride into town with Cade last night.”
And he thought they’d been so discreet. Ha.
“I knew you weren’t planning to hang out at Lexi’s with him,” she continued. “But his truck isn’t back yet. How did you get home?”
He sighed. “I’d rather not go into detail, but let’s just say the evening didn’t work out quite the way I expected. The bottom line is that tonight after the barbecue, Phil’s giving me a ride to her house. I wanted you to know in advance.”
Herb walked into the kitchen. “You’re going over to Phil’s tonight? That’s fast work, son.”
“Oh, he’s a fast worker, all right.” Rosie didn’t sound happy. “Has Phil heard this little speech of yours about how your working style doesn’t leave room for a wife and family?”
“Yes, and she’s fine with it.”
“I see.” Rosie glanced at Herb. “Get us some plates, please, honey. The food’s done even if this discussion isn’t.”
Herb pulled plates and coffee mugs out of the cupboard and shortly they were seated at the kitchen table where Rosie could skewer Damon with one of her disapproving stares. “Philomena is a nice girl.”
“Yes, she is.” He met her gaze. “I’m sure that’s why you set me up with her.”
Rosie had the good grace to blush. “She’s perfect for you, Damon. I guarantee she understands your dedication to your work. She’s the same way.”
“She is. I respect her abilities more than I can say. And you were right about one thing.”
“One thing?” Rosie’s expression darkened.
“I’m sure you didn’t mean it like that, did you, son?” Herb gave him a sympathetic glance.
“No. You’re right about a lot of things, Mom. In this case, you were right that I had a blind spot.”
“Which blind spot are we referring to, pray tell? I can think of at least two off the top of my head.”
He thought that was a pot-and-kettle situation, but he wisely didn’t say so. “I assumed the person who would be helping me was a guy, and I shouldn’t have. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Better widen your net,” Herb said. “Include everybody—firefighters, jet pilots, truck drivers, you name it.”
“I will.” Damon looked at Rosie. “I appreciate the nudge. I had some old-fashioned thinking going on.”
“That’s something, at least.” She shook h
er head. “But I don’t know about this other business. I’d better talk with Philomena. You say she’s fine with some fly-by-night affair, but I want to make sure she’s—”
“I’m telling you, she accepts this about me. It’s the way I’ve been with ladies ever since I hit puberty, so I don’t know why it should surprise you. Nothing’s changed.” If he sounded frustrated, then it was because he was becoming extremely frustrated. “I’m not the settling-down type.”
“I know, and when you were younger, I didn’t worry about it. Lots of boys play the field.”
“But I’m a grown man now, and that’s still my pattern over in California.”
She sighed. “I know that, too, but it’s not happening under my nose. And I keep hoping you’ll see the light. I thought maybe if you met the perfect woman, which Phil definitely is, you’d realize—”
“Mom.” He reached over and put a hand on her arm. “Please try to understand this. My life is great. I have work I love and most of the time I have a woman in my life. Just not the same woman, which is how I like it.”
She glanced at him in horror. “Please don’t tell me you have a girlfriend in California.”
“No! I’m not that kind of guy. Geez. If I had a girlfriend I wouldn’t have had—” He caught himself, but his face got warm, which meant he was turning red.
“Sex with Philomena?” Rosie’s tone was light, but her blue eyes shot sparks.
This was not the discussion he wanted to have with his foster mother. “I haven’t deceived her. I explained how things were right from the beginning, before we ever... Anyway, she’s okay with it.”
“So you say. I intend to find that out for myself. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”
So he did, partly because she’d told him to and he’d been in the habit of following that particular order since he was thirteen. But also, Rosie cooked a damned good breakfast, and he was starving. Lots of sex combined with very little sleep could do that to a person. He devoured more than his share of the biscuits, too.
As was typical with her, Rosie noticed. “Worked up an appetite, did you?”
He glanced over to find her watching him with amusement. Maybe she wasn’t quite as mad at him as she’d acted. He swallowed the bite he’d finished chewing. “Yes, ma’am.” He was reaching for another biscuit when his phone chimed. “Excuse me.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, and when he noticed the time on his screen, he figured the text was from Phil wondering where he was.
Sure enough, she was down at the site. He texted back that he’d be right there. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go.” He picked up his mug and plate as he stood. “Thanks for breakfast. It was delicious.”
Rosie looked up at him. “Was that Phil?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Would you please ask her to come up here for a few minutes?”
His reluctance must have been obvious even though he hadn’t said a word.
“Do you want to be here when I talk to her? Because that’s fine with me. You can call her now and invite her up for a cup of coffee. We’ll sit around the kitchen table and have a chat.”
Herb pushed back his chair. “You’ll have to do that without me. I need to check the automatic watering system in the barn. It’s not acting right.”
“Just like some people around here,” Rosie muttered.
Herb must be using the watering system as an excuse so he could escape. He wasn’t good with repairs. Damon decided to ask him later today if he needed help with it.
In the meantime, he’d attempt to derail Rosie’s plan. “The thing is, Phil and I have a lot of work to accomplish before the party, so...” He trailed off as Rosie gave him what the boys used to call the look. “Okay, I’ll go down and send her up here. And to answer your question, I don’t have to be present. I already know what she’s going to say.”
“You do? And how long have you known her?”
“Well, technically, a couple of days, but we wrote all those emails, so I’ve actually known her longer.”
Rosie didn’t seem impressed. “She’s been handling routine maintenance around here for about four years. I’ve watched her business grow, and I’ve watched her grow as a person. I realize now that I might’ve put her in a no-win situation, and I need to talk to her about it.”
“A no-win situation?” He didn’t like the sound of that. “How do you figure?”
“I hate to say this and give you a swelled head, but you’re a good-looking man. And you’re extremely charming. If you’ve already lured her into bed, then—”
“I didn’t lure her! The attraction is exceedingly mutual!”
“Which would be great if you could see how perfect she is for you. I really thought you would, but I guess I was wrong. I’m worried that she’ll get hurt.”
“How can she when she’s going into it with her eyes wide-open?”
Rosie gazed at him. “Son, I love you to death, but you have a lot to learn about women.”
He thought about that as he walked down to the meadow. Was Rosie right? Even though Phil had insisted that a temporary affair was no problem, might it be after all? In other words, Phil could be fooling herself. She might be sacrificing her best interests because the chemistry between them was so strong.
If there was the slightest chance of that, the right choice would be to stay out of Phil’s bed for the rest of the time he was in Wyoming. He wasn’t sure he was that noble.
8
WHILE PHIL WAITED for Damon, she started uncrating windows, which would go in today if they worked steadily. She’d expected to see him at the site when she’d arrived at five-thirty, so she’d checked his cabin and the bathhouse. Both were tidy, but he wasn’t in either place. At last she’d figured he was having breakfast in the ranch house kitchen.
He’d mentioned that he wanted to talk with Rosie, and this would be a good opportunity if he was planning to boldly take off for her house after the barbecue tonight. Thinking Rosie might be giving him a hard time, she’d texted him, in case he’d needed an excuse to get the heck out of there.
His immediate response suggested that might have been the case. In very short order he rounded the corner of the house and started toward the meadow. She resisted the urge to run into his arms in fake slow motion like a movie heroine. Now probably wasn’t the time to act goofy.
He was the same gorgeous hunk of manhood she’d left only two hours earlier. His shoulders were just as broad, and his walk just as loose and sexy. But something about his body language told her all was not peachy in his world.
When he was close enough for her to see his expression under the shadow of his straw cowboy hat, she knew that for sure. She went to meet him. “What’s wrong?”
“Rosie wants to see you up at the house for a chat.”
“Oh, boy. That sounds like a summons.”
“It sort of is. I tried to get you out of it, but she insisted.”
“That’s fine. I’m not surprised she wants to see me. I assume you told her about us.”
“Yep.”
“Then I’d better go find out what she has to say about it.”
“Listen, before you go, I want you to be honest with me. Is it remotely possible you’ll be all torn up when I leave next week?”
She looked into those beautiful gray eyes. “Rosie thinks I will, doesn’t she?”
“Never mind Rosie. What she thinks doesn’t matter. Well, it does, because I love her and she’s my mom, but this is between you and me.”
She thought about how to answer.
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Phil. Is my approach to this affair likely to cause you pain?”
She took a deep breath. “It’s possible.”
“Shit.”
“But I don’t care.”
“How can you not care? Most people I know try to avoid pain. They don’t stick their hand in an open flame or smash their kneecap with a two-by-four because they know it won’t be any fun doing that. If my leaving is go
ing to be painful for you, then we need to reconsider whether to go forward.”
“Before we make that sacrifice, let’s turn things around. Will leaving me cause you pain?”
He looked puzzled. “Well, I’m not going to enjoy it, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Let’s say we go ahead with the plan and you spend the next five nights with me. Then you hop on a plane and head back to California. Can you imagine how you’ll feel at that point?”
“Sad, because I like being with you and I’ll miss you.” He smiled. “Probably sexually frustrated after all those nights in your bed. I’ll get used to regular sex with you, and suddenly it’ll be gone.”
“Would you say your feelings will be painful?”
He chuckled. “They could be if thinking about you makes me hard and I’m strapped into an economy-class seat.”
“How about here?” She put her hand over his heart.
“Yeah.” His voice softened. “I’ll be hurting there, too.”
“So we’ll be in the same boat. You won’t be causing me any more pain than you’re causing yourself. It’s like when I was teasing you on the desk chair. I teased myself at the same time.”
He nudged his hat back with his thumb. “You would have to bring that up.”
“It’s a good analogy.”
“And it makes me want to drag you into my cabin and do it all over again.”
Her breath hitched. “We can’t.” But now she wanted that, too. Her whole body vibrated with wanting.
“Stop looking at me that way.”
She closed her eyes. “Is that better?”
“Hell, no.” And he was there, tugging her close and kissing her hard as he pushed the ridge of his cock against her belly.
She responded by cupping his ass and pulling him in tighter. Moisture and heat gathered between her thighs as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She moaned, and he shoved his hands in her back pockets, his fingers flexing against the worn denim.
Thunderstruck Page 8