A new wave of terror surged, blinding her with white-hot fear.
The sound of metal clanged in the lock.
“No!” She squealed, scrambling to hide herself behind a small square throw pillow from the couch. “Please! Don’t come—”
The door sprang open.
Right as Lance stepped around the couch, she shifted the pillow to cover her lower hemisphere.
“What’re you—?” He halted like he’d been shot, his gaze bouncing from her eyes to her bra and then, sure enough, down to the pillow.
“Turn around! Cover your eyes,” she wailed. For the love of God! Humiliation curdled into anger. “Why’d you have to come in? Who just barges into someone’s house, huh?” Why couldn’t he have waited on the porch like she’d asked?
“Uh…” He seemed to be frozen in place. “Sorry. I heard the crash. Thought you were hurt…”
Was he gawking? His lips had parted with surprise. And then there were his eyes. Wide and unblinking. Men didn’t usually look at her like that…
“What the hell happened?” he asked, finally finding the decency to turn around and stare out the bay window.
Securing the pillow against her lower abdomen with one hand, she covered her Boldly Lifted chest with her arm in case he decided to peek again. “I had a bit of an accident.” She should make something up. Something really exciting. Something like she and a mystery man were playing this kinky game…
“Are you hurt?” Lance asked, his head swiveling toward her again.
She kept herself covered. Oh, yes. She was hurt. On more than one level. “I’m fine,” she choked out. “Can you get my robe? It’s hanging up in the bathroom at the end of the hall.”
“Right. Your robe.” He sort of side-shuffled his way down the hall and back, before tossing the robe at her without turning around.
Clutching her salvation, she scurried up to a standing position, the backs of her calves still aching, and wrapped the fabric around her, tying the belt securely at her waist.
Lance peeked over his shoulder as if to check on her, then turned all the way around.
She wasn’t sure if she was out of breath due to the terrible thong ordeal or to the fact that the elusive Lance Cortez looked so different up close. She’s seen him around town since she’d been back, but she’d never looked at him that closely. He’d never looked at her the way he was now, either. Eyes open slightly wider than a normal person’s, lips parted like he couldn’t remember what it was he’d wanted to say.
Yes, well, neither could she. Not with the sight of his dark hair, which curled slightly at the edges. It was mussed like he’d been nervously running his hand through it all morning. And those eyes. An arctic blue-gray. Cutting. He wore a dark red flannel shirt with the sleeves pushed up over his bulky forearms. His jeans were faded and worn like he worked hard, which she’d heard he did.
“So…” His voice had this deep soothing reverberation that made her want to curl up against him. “Did you fall or something?”
Or something. “I was in the kitchen making coffee,” she informed him, trying to smooth her hair into soft waves like it had been before she’d gone to battle with the couch. “Wasn’t expecting anyone to show up at my door…” Especially the enigma that was Lance Cortez. “So I panicked and was trying to get back to my room without giving you a show.” Which was clearly too much to ask from the universe.
“Oh.” His gaze seemed to fixate on the leopard-print thong that lay a mere two feet from his boots.
As swiftly as possible, she swiped it off the floor and shoved it into the pocket of her robe. “Um. Did you need something, Lance?” Because her humiliation meter was about tapped out for the day and it wasn’t even seven o’clock.
“Right. Yes.” That intense gaze pierced her eyes. “Dad spent the night out on the mountain and I need you to tell me how to find him.”
The news shocked her into stillness. “He spent the night out there?” Luis hadn’t said a word about camping when she’d talked to him Wednesday night. Though he did camp occasionally, he usually told her his plans.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” he went on. “His sleeping bag is gone, which means he planned on being out all night. But he didn’t bring his meds.”
Though she tried not to panic, her mind hopped on a runaway train car of worst-case scenarios. So many things could’ve happened to him…he could’ve taken a fall. He could’ve gotten turned around. He could’ve had a heart attack like her father…
Lance’s weight shifted. He cleared his throat. “So, have you seen him?”
“Not since Wednesday.” It was hard to swallow past the emerging rock formation in her throat. Because Luis had asked her to go up the mountain with him. And she’d said no.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m…” What if something had happened to him and he was all alone because she didn’t go with him?
A shrill whistle sliced into her thoughts.
Lance looked around. “You got water on the stove?”
Blinking fast enough to sop up threatening tears, she nodded quickly. “I was making coffee…”
“Coffee sounds great,” Lance said. And if that wasn’t shocking enough, he sat himself down on her couch.
Heat blanketed her, making the robe feel like a fur coat. He wanted to sit and have coffee with her? While she wore her robe? “But…um…maybe…well…okay…” The words stumbled over one another, mimicking the erratic beat of her heart. No. Don’t you dare, she told that stubborn thing.
No matter how beautiful Lance Cortez was, she was done with romance.
Chapter Three
He’d only stayed for the coffee, so he’d best stop looking at Jessa like she was on the menu.
Lance did his best to reel in his tongue and crank his jaw closed. But…damn.
It had to be the thong. And the bra. And the robe. Who knew Jessa Mae Love owned sexy lingerie? Not him. It would’ve been better if he’d known, if he’d been prepared to see her like that—all half naked and done up like a no-strings-attached fantasy. Her legs were much longer than he’d ever realized. Long, tanned, and defined. Lethal combination. Must be all of that hiking she did.
Though he knew better, his gaze followed her to the kitchen. Yes, Jessa had spent every summer in Topaz Falls for as long as he could remember. He’d known of her, even a little bit about her, considering their fathers were more like brothers than friends. He’d seen her around the ranch, but he’d never looked at her too closely. How could he have ever missed that bust, which he’d gotten a nice view of before he remembered his manners and turned away. He may not get out much, but he was still a man. And he had perfect eyesight. He noticed things like that. Somehow on Jessa, he’d missed it until the moment he’d seen her lying on the floor. All of a sudden, there they were, two perfect breasts staring him in the face, and he was awake on a whole new level. Even without coffee.
The unrecognizable woman in front of him—could he even call her Jessa anymore?—worked quickly in the kitchen, clutching the top of the robe like she wanted to bolt it together. He almost wished she could.
After she’d removed the screaming teakettle from the stove and poured water into a French press, she sort of scuttled past him. “I should go change,” she said in a huskily sexy voice that didn’t seem to fit her. Or at least it hadn’t. Before the lingerie…
“I’ll throw on some clothes,” she went on, nervously shifting her eyes. “Then we can talk about Luis.”
Yes. Clothes. That would be best. Because if she put on more clothes, maybe he could focus on something besides these details he’d never noticed about her. Like the soft way her blondish hair cascaded past her shoulders. Or the way her earnest, unsure, brown-eyed gaze had stirred something inside him. Instead of answering her, he simply averted his eyes and nodded, giving her permission to go, giving himself space to get his shit together. Because he’d just spent a good five minutes checking out Jessa Mae Love. Town animal activist. Best friend to
his sixty-seven-year-old father. Which was weird.
God, this was so weird…
“Um. Be right back.” Her skin blotched bright pink before she whirled and scampered down the hall, that short robe riding up enough to make his eyes pop open wider so he could get a better look before he checked himself again. Jessa Mae Love. He tried to picture her the way he’d always seen her—wearing tan hiking pants, a T-shirt, hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail, and those eyes obscured by thick-rimmed glasses. But the image kept morphing back into sexy robe babe. No way would he get her out of his head now.
He pushed off the couch and did a lap around her living room to get the blood flowing somewhere besides his crotch.
Trying to distract himself from the action happening in her bedroom down the hall, he looked around. The house was the typical 1940s bungalow. Jessa’s father, Buzz, had lived there for more than thirty years. A few years ago, his father had dragged Lance to a poker game here. Back then, dark wood paneling covered the walls. A hazy smell of cigar smoke contaminated the furniture. It’d been the typical elderly bachelor pad—everything old, moldy, and most likely purchased from garage sales. But Jessa had really lightened things up.
She’d painted the wood paneling bright white and knocked down the wall that used to separate the kitchen from the small living room. There were pops of orange and turquoise in pillows and curtains. Instead of trinkets, a wall of white bookshelves was filled with academic-looking hardbacks. He paused in front of the white sofa and studied the picture that hung on the wall behind it. Jessa and Buzz standing on Topaz Mountain. He leaned in closer. She had on the typical Jessa uniform—pants and a loose-fitting T-shirt—but on closer inspection, it did appear that the woman had always been more well-endowed than he’d given her credit for…
“Sorry that took so long.”
He spun, knocking his knee on the edge of an old trunk that acted as a coffee table, and held back the wince.
“I’ll get the coffee. Should be done now,” she murmured, nervously fisting her delicate hands.
“Sounds good.” His head was pounding for a hit of caffeine, but the rest of his body pounded for different reasons. Apparently, Jessa had suddenly decided to start wearing shorts. Short shorts and a faded V-neck T-shirt that pointed his gaze to the very spot he’d been trying to avoid.
“Have a seat.” She gestured to the couch and sashayed across the room and into the small kitchen.
For the second time that morning, he had to remind himself to close his mouth. He sank to the couch, glancing at the picture book on her coffee table instead of her ass. Which was shaped and firm, he couldn’t help but notice. And if he sat here much longer, he might be tempted to do more than notice, which meant he should fast track this little meeting.
With that in mind, he shifted forward, widened his stance, and rested his elbows on his knees. “So, got any idea where my dad might be?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” Jessa answered, working quickly to fill two mugs in the kitchen. “But if I had to guess, I’d say he’s somewhere up near the north ridge.”
“And the north ridge is…?” His face heated. Yes, he owned the land, but he never had time to get out and explore it. Not the way Jessa and his father did.
“It’s about eight miles up the mountain.” Carrying two steaming mugs, Jessa walked—no swayed those curvy hips—back across the living room and handed one to him. She sat on the very edge of a leather chair opposite the couch. “I saw him Wednesday,” she said, her brown eyes reddening. “He asked me if I wanted to go up with him. And I said no.” The last word teetered on the edge of a whimper.
Oh, shit. Don’t do it. Don’t cry. “He’ll be fine,” he said before a tear could fall.
Jessa bit into her lower lip. Something he might like to try sometime…
“I thought he’d ask Tucker to go with him since I couldn’t. No one should be out there alone. Ever.” A tear did slip out then, and he shocked himself by reaching over to cover her hand with his. Not because he wanted to touch her. Hell no. That had nothing to do with this. Her dad had passed away last year and it obviously still got to her, that’s all. He could imagine how that would feel. Didn’t know what he’d do if he lost his own father. “Dad’s out there all the time,” he reminded her. “He likes to be alone. And it’s not your responsibility to babysit him.” That burden rested solely on his shoulders. And with his training schedule, he hadn’t done much of a good job of it lately.
Jessa stared at his hand covering hers like she didn’t quite know what to make of it. Yeah, neither did he. So he withdrew it, lifted the coffee mug to his lips, and took a good long sip. Heaven. It was liquid heaven. Bitter but creamy. Exactly the way he made it for himself. The realization shook him up again. He set down the mug before he spilled it. “You put a tablespoon of cream in it.” Real cream. None of that fake flavored shit.
Jessa startled, her eyes worried. “You don’t like it?”
“No. I mean…yes.” He paused to unscramble his thoughts. “That’s exactly how I make it.” But she hadn’t asked him if he wanted cream.
A soft smile plumped her lips and made them look as delicious as the coffee. “That’s how Luis drinks it every day at the shelter. I figured maybe that was how you liked it, too.”
“Good guess.” He sipped again, hoping the caffeine would clarify his thoughts, because they kept wandering and now was not the time to get distracted by a woman. He had to find his dad so he could get back to the ranch and take care of Wild Willy. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to resume his training and then he’d be five hundred miles up shit creek.
“So he didn’t tell you where he planned to camp?” Jessa asked, crossing those long legs. Her voice had a formal ring to it, like she was about as uncomfortable with the current situation as he was.
He focused on his coffee. “No. But he does this all the time.” Definitely more than Jessa knew about.
“He can’t sit still,” she said through a fond smile. “He hates to be confined.”
“Yeah, well, if he doesn’t start sitting still more often, I’ll have to confine him.” He couldn’t watch the man 24/7. Not with Worlds coming up.
Not that he needed to have that discussion with Jessa. He’d already said too much.
Lance finished off his coffee and plunked the mug onto the trunk. “So can you tell me how to get up there? To the north ridge?”
“There’s really no easy way.” She stood and collected their mugs, rushing them to the kitchen. “You’ll have to take the ATV up most of the way,” she called as she rinsed them in the sink. “Until the talus field. Then you go on foot about another mile or so until you see the outcropping.”
The what huh?
She traipsed back to her chair and sat. “Then you run into the boulder field.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. “That’s where it gets fun.”
“Sounds simple.” Yeah, about as simple as getting his body to behave when he took his gaze to the point of her V-neck shirt. Holy hell. This was gonna take him all day.
“It’s actually pretty complicated. I’ll have to come with you,” she murmured, the rounded apples of her cheeks flushing with an intensity he’d never seen on her face. Of course, he’d never really looked before.
“You want to come?” His mouth went dry. He’d have to spend the whole day trying not to notice how sexy she suddenly was?
“I have to come. There’s no way you’ll find him on your own.”
Damn it all. She was right.
* * *
Jessa did her darnedest to stuff down the worry that threatened to make her seem overdramatic. Lance was so calm about the whole thing. So sure his father would be fine. Luis went out on the mountain all the time. Sometimes alone. He knew the terrain. Knew every survival skill he’d ever need…
She gazed out at the peaks from Naomi’s front porch, where she and her friend had gathered to wait for Lance to bring down the ATV. The mountains looked beautiful, powdered with snow at
the very tops, the late fall sun casting a spotlight on every chiseled detail. He’ll be fine, she told herself again, trying to mentally separate today from the trauma of last year. And yet her stomach refused to settle.
In an attempt to distract herself, she filled Naomi in on her eventful morning.
“Let me get this straight.” Her friend’s luminous green eyes doubled in size. “Lance came into your house. Sat on your couch. And had coffee with you?” she repeated for what had to be the fifth time.
Jessa’s skin warmed as though the high-altitude sun was beating down right on her face, but nope, they were nice and shaded. It was simply a hearty Lance Cortez–induced blush. Not even the brisk mountain breeze could douse it, though goose bumps prickled her legs. God, she shouldn’t be wearing shorts on a search-and-rescue operation. But they’d left her house in such a hurry she hadn’t even had time to change into more appropriate attire.
A few feet away, Naomi’s sweet daughter, Gracie, sang to herself on the porch swing.
Jessa leaned in close so the girl wouldn’t hear. “Yes. He came into my house. And I was naked,” she moaned, reliving that humiliating moment when Lance had stepped around the couch and the bottom fell out of his jaw.
Naomi’s eyes narrowed in a way that quirked her lips. “Better naked than wearing your old hiking pants,” she offered.
“Thanks.” She’d hoped a quick chat with her friend would bolster her confidence, seeing as how she had to spend an entire day with Lance and somehow not succumb to her typical awkward ways, but so far the woman wasn’t helping. “This isn’t funny! You should’ve seen the way he looked at me.” At first he’d looked shocked, then it seemed more like lust, but then, as he’d finished his coffee, his expression had looked almost disgusted. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”
“Lance doesn’t like anyone,” Naomi reminded her. “But that’s why this is so perfect.”
“I’m not following.” This didn’t sound perfect to her. She had to spend a whole day with someone who didn’t like people. And he was so beautiful to look at. Which meant she was guaranteed to make a fool out of herself again.
Luckiest Cowboy of All--Two full books for the price of one Page 31