by Mari Carr
They had all the important things in common, starting with their unconditional support of each other. He would bet that if Cindi had accepted JD’s invitation to dinner, she’d have been a pinot noir drinker like him. Or maybe she would have joined him in a flute of Cristal. Not that he cared one way or the other.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts of the woman he’d shared comfort-slash-rebound sex with during their one night stand and focused on the important things in his life. The enduring things.
Members of his family ringed the table with conversation and laughter. Content to absorb their positive energy, Sam half-listened. JD discussed a problem they were having—something to do with one of the ranch hands and suspected petty theft—with Silas and Colby. Vicky and Lucy laughed about local gossip regarding the preacher’s wife and one of the less devout members of the congregation. Seth hopped from one conversation to the other, interjecting wise-ass remarks.
They were finishing up their meal when the doorbell rang.
“Damn. Who visits at suppertime?” JD grumbled, rising slowly.
Not to mention anyone they knew wouldn’t bother with the chime. Hell, Sam hadn’t remembered they had a doorbell. The Compton household was more of a knock-and-enter operation. Sometimes more of an enter-and-holler-hello facility to be honest.
“I’ll get it,” he offered. JD waved his hand so Sam plopped into his seat again. Last thing he wanted was to baby his dad.
“Naw. I’m the closest.” JD disappeared into the hallway. Conversation resumed. Silas and Colby filled Seth and Sam in on some of the more recent improvements that had been made to the ranch. It would take a while to ramp up his understanding of how things worked these days.
It wasn’t long before JD reappeared. “Uh, Seth. Maybe you should come out here, son.”
Sam whipped his stare to his brother. Thank God it was Seth on the receiving end of that bewildered glance from their father and not Sam. Usually unflappable, JD started to say something more, then choked on his comment.
Sam couldn’t recall ever having seen him at a loss before.
“Oookay.” Seth drew out his assent as he rose slowly.
Sam joined the rest of the family, trailing Seth as he ambled toward the front foyer as though stalking through a haunted house where ghosts or zombies might tear him limb from limb at any moment.
Sam could say they had his back. The truth of the matter was they were nosy.
Seth stopped short. The rest of the family jammed up. Vicky bumped into JD. Sam was knocked into his mom when Colby and Lucy bounced into him and Silas avoided the mess as he hobbled along in the rear.
“Who is she?” Lucy gasped as she strained to see around the three men in front of her. Si whispered in the background, filling his lovers in.
Sam had no question. The sassy woman sporting an antique lace wedding dress was none other than Jody Kirkland. Even with her clothes on, he couldn’t mistake the fire in her eyes. Forget a bee in her bonnet, the girl had a whole wasp’s nest under that skirt.
Poor Seth.
His brother didn’t make things any better for himself when he quipped, “Nice dress.”
Careful, bro. Sam wanted to shout out a warning.
The family listened as Jody and Seth weaved through a series of misunderstandings and wounded pride that put “Who’s on First” to shame.
Sam sucked in a pained breath when Seth dropped to one knee and proposed. He remembered his intentions to make that same gesture for Belinda. Watching the couple before him now, he realized he’d never had that unconditional love. Not for or from any woman.
Cindi’s face flashed through his memory. Until he remembered how quick she’d been to dismiss what they’d shared. When JD had introduced them earlier, she’d smiled politely and shook his hand as though they hadn’t damn near burned the barn down last night.
At least his brothers had brighter futures.
Jody accepted Seth’s proposal. The tired, drawn expression Seth had worn since Sam landed in Wyoming disappeared, replaced by sheer, unadulterated happiness. Sam couldn’t help but be swept away by their bliss. He whistled and clapped. His brothers were the luckiest bastards on the face of the earth. After missing his shot, or two, he couldn’t be happier for them.
“Well, hot damn.” JD whooped. “Looks like we got a wedding to look forward to.”
Sam figured Seth had the same thought he did when his brother ended his lip lock prematurely. Jody blinked in surprise at his quick retreat.
“I wanna get married right away.” Time wasn’t on JD’s side. If it were Sam, he’d do anything necessary to ensure their father was present on the big day. “No long engagement.”
Jody laughed and pointed to her dress. “Sweetheart, if there was a minister here, I’d marry you tonight.”
“Oh no,” Vicky cried out, rushing over to where Seth and Jody stood. “I want a proper wedding. We can hold it right here at the ranch. Lots of flowers and friends and a big-ass party afterward.”
Jody turned to Vicky, grinning. “That sounds terrific.”
Seth introduced them all to his new fiancée. By the time she’d made the rounds, Sam felt sure their family had grown in the matter of an evening. Jody talked shop with JD, shared the grief she’d endured as a woman on a male-dominated ranch with Lucy and Vicky and gave as good as she got from Sam and Silas over the whole webcam incident. She fit seamlessly with the group, something Belinda never would have been able to accomplish.
When Seth and Jody headed upstairs to reconnect, Sam ducked outside.
He hated the jealousy he couldn’t ignore as it clawed at his guts. How could he ever find someone who fulfilled both sides of his nature—sophisticated yet down to earth? No fancy woman would settle for this life, would she?
Maybe he had his priorities completely fucked up. A steady woman like Lucy or Jody would be a blessing. Sweet, funny and caring, they’d satisfy him most of the time.
No relationship could be perfect, right?
He flopped into the porch swing and planted his boot on the rail, rocking a bit faster than was probably recommended. After stewing a good, long while, the chill of the evening began to register. He chafed his arms, then prepared to head inside.
A sliver of light grew across the yard, drawing his attention before it flicked into darkness when someone shut off the barn lamps, then closed the big sliding door. A figure, too petite for any of the ranchers, blended with the shadows. He didn’t think Cindi had spotted him until she lifted one hand in a meager wave.
He mimicked her greeting.
For a single moment he debated trotting after her like a lost puppy. He stood. From this distance he couldn’t be sure, but he thought she might have smiled. Then he remembered how oblivious she’d seemed to the current racing up his arm when their palms had met in that disgustingly courteous shake earlier in the day.
Enough chasing his tail already.
Enough being led by his cock.
Enough caring for women who didn’t have more in mind than a world-class fuck or to fuck him over, however that went.
Sam planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest.
The posture didn’t prevent his sigh when she walked away. Nor did it stop the breath that stuck beneath his ribs when she did a one-eighty.
Cindi faced him and stared for a solid ten seconds before marching up to the porch.
Unwilling to give her leverage, Sam sank onto the swing again, settling his old hat over the instant hard-on testing the strength of his jeans.
“Hi.” She paused at the top of the stairs.
“Howdy.”
“Mind if I join you?” It was more than a polite inquiry. She’d vanish if he asked her to. Tempted, he couldn’t take the easy path when she worried her plump bottom lip.
“Of course not.” The truth overrode his need to save face. “Have a seat.”
Sam slid to one side, but the swing dictated their coziness. His nostrils flared when their thighs presse
d together.
They rocked in silence, staring out at the ranch for a bit.
“JD came to talk to me today.” She monitored the never-ending effort of a moth, which flew repeatedly into the bulb illuminating the stairs.
Buzz. Crash. Buzz. Crash. Buzz.
Sam couldn’t help himself either. He laid his hand on top of Cindi’s trembling fingers.
“Thanks.” She swallowed hard. “I’m so glad you gave me a heads-up. I mean, I didn’t tell him you did. But I had a chance to organize my thoughts beforehand. I think I muddled through okay. I focused on him instead of…”
“Your broken heart.” Ah, fuck it. Sam released the tension in his neck, allowing his face to angle toward the gravitational force of her sweetness laced with suffering.
“Yeah.” She sniffled, though the sobs of the night before didn’t resurface. Thank God. His chest still ached from the force of her misery. And his own. “I owe you. For letting me be supportive instead of selfish. The shock… If I hadn’t had a chance to process the news, it would have gone differently. I was proud of how I held it together. Above all, I couldn’t stand myself if I added to his pain.”
“I’m glad to be of service.” He stared into her wide eyes, then laughed. “And that sounded totally sketchy. Didn’t mean it like—”
“Like you’d be willing to throw me a bone every time I’m having a bad day?”
They both cracked up then. Damn, she was easy to hang around. Nothing like the snippy indignation Belinda had shot at him every time he opened his mouth.
Her smile tempted him to taste it. Somehow he resisted. Something more attractive than the potent sexual connection they shared inspired him to abstain. “Look, Cindi—”
“You don’t owe me any explanations.” She covered his mouth with two fingers.
“Maybe not, but I’d like to give you one anyway. If you don’t mind listening.”
“I, uh, realize we sort of just met. Still, I hope you believe I’m here for you like you were for me. Whenever you need someone, Sam.” She squeezed his knee. “I’m a pretty decent friend.”
He stifled a groan both at her touch and the infamous platonic reference every man loathed. Except that’s what he hoped for in this case. Wasn’t it?
“I appreciate that.” He nodded. “Things don’t have to be awkward between us. We’re both adults. Last night was great. Exactly what I—no, we—needed. I just thought you should know I’m not looking for anything…more.”
“Same here.” A frown chased relief from her face. “The woman you mentioned yesterday. Belinda. She betrayed you. JD isn’t the only reason you came home, true?”
Women’s intuition never ceased to amaze him. “Yeah.”
“Well, I’m nothing like that bitch. You can be sure of that.”
“Believe me, I know.” Sam chuckled. Belinda would never have gone wild in the dusty barn. Hell, she probably wouldn’t have set a single Prada-clad foot in the place. No need to rub Cindi’s face in the discrepancy. High-priced and high-class swapped places in his estimation.
She tilted her head but didn’t ask him to explain.
Somehow, her hands-off approach made him spill his guts.
By the time he’d recounted the gory details, Cindi’s cheeks had gone purple. “And you’re not going to fight?”
“For what?” He scratched his chin. “My job? Hell, no. They don’t deserve me. My pride? No point. She fooled me with her act. I had it coming.”
“I wouldn’t say that. How about your reputation?” She stroked her thumb over the back of his hand.
“The people who count would never have believed her lies.” Sam stared into her eyes, hoping he could include her in that category.
“After a single day I couldn’t have taken her seriously.” Cindi laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry your bosses let you down. They were too chickenshit to see beyond her petty games. In those circles, scandal rules. Even the threat of one can be deadly. Rumors cause as much damage as fact. If they had merited your loyalty, none of that would have mattered, though. They would have stuck by you and damn the consequences.”
Sam wondered how she knew. “Thanks.”
“I guess there’s only one thing for you to do.” She patted his thigh.
“What’s that?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Kick their asses. Rake in the cash they could have made with you by their sides.” Her devious laugh had his cock throbbing. “Hit them where it hurts. Right in their big fat wallets.”
He hadn’t expected her to understand. “I made my first buy this afternoon.”
“Atta boy.” She lifted her head and wiggled her brows at him. “Maybe you should give me some stock tips. I’d be glad to help. In the name of our new friendship of course.”
“Mighty generous, Cin.” He laughed. Too bad the commodities he’d picked up had such an enormous cost per share. Otherwise, he might have taken her up on the offer. No need to rub her face in the high stakes he’d operated with in his old world.
“I do what I can.”
They stared into each other’s eyes.
What she’d done—for him, to him, with him—last night tempted him to fish for a repeat performance. Except ruining their budding friendship wasn’t something he was willing to risk. Not even for phenomenal sex.
Sam stood abruptly and she followed suit.
“I guess I’d better go.” She nodded toward a beat-up Ford in the drive. “Brought my truck tonight.”
“Drive safe.” What were the odds the thing wouldn’t start and he could usher her through the Indian paintbrush and bluebells again? Probably too much to ask of the universe.
“Will do. Goodnight, Sam.” She rose onto her tiptoes. Soft lips seared his skin though she only pecked his stubbly cheek.
“Goodnight.” He stood on the porch until the rattle of her better-days ride faded into the night. Then he pivoted on his boot heels and hustled inside before the loneliness smothering him convinced him to do something stupid.
Something like chasing her down, then scooping her onto Dee’s back and racing them out to one of the many secluded spots on the ranch for a night of getting to know each other better, whether that meant by talking or by touching. Only a fool would ask for that kind of punishment so soon after taking a beating.
Silas and Seth had known who their forever partners were from the time they were teenagers.
He wished he could say the same.
Then again, maybe there was no such thing for him. Screwing around with the wrong women meant damning himself to frustration and regret, time after time.
Better to sleep alone.
The kitchen door banged behind him, punctuating his retreat.
“Sam!” Vicky hollered from her room on the first floor.
“Sorry, Ma.” He didn’t dare go upstairs. Falling into his bed, which shared a wall with Seth’s, would only doom him to eavesdropping on his brother’s happily ever after in progress. Instead, he snagged his laptop off a coffee table in the living room and headed for the back porch.
Maybe he’d tinker with his portfolio and see what kind of damage he could do from across the country. No reason why he couldn’t implement some of his stolen strategies to pass the time. Making money always took his mind off the things he might be missing out on, at least temporarily.
Seven weeks and five days until Sawyer hit dry land and he had someone to commiserate with. It would take a hell of a lot of profit to last that long.
Chapter Eight
One week later
Sam had avoided the barn for a week, ever since his first night home. But if he stared at the Dow’s neon green ticker blipping across his damn computer screen a minute longer he’d go nuts. He’d already mastered three point shots on the Nerf basketball net taped to the back of the porch door and built a paperclip statue worthy of the MOMA.
The promise of a few hours roaming the ranch on horseback called to him. After all, he had some time to kill. Opening a new fund and
putting his research into play had seemed like a worthy challenge. Except it’d gone remarkably well. So well, he didn’t have a hell of a lot to do as he let the research he’d slaved over for months pay off.
Without the bullshit of corporate existence, like producing standardized reporting half the recipients didn’t bother to open or devoting an entire day to a presentation partners would flip through in fifteen minutes, while wishing they were anywhere else, he was suddenly far more agile in his trades and better off when it came to work-life balance.
The availability at decent prices of the stock he had planned to recommend also surprised him. Had Belinda not yet traded for Smith, Winfield and Gandle? What were they waiting for?
While he speculated, he’d rearranged the entire porch, reconfiguring it into a pleasant office filled with plants, sunlight and memories of the nights he’d camped out on the floor with his brothers. Swapping his impersonal glass and chrome space for the dinged up old couch would do. This morning JD had stopped by to check out his handiwork and mentioned an unused desk in the back of the barn. Sam figured he might as well lug it up to the main house and add it to his space before the novelty of lounging on the sagging cushions mutated into a sore back.
At least those were all the reasons he justified his visit to the barn. Problem was, he’d searched every place he could think of, including the loft where he’d lost his virginity to Brandi Morrone, and had no luck locating the furniture.
He knew exactly who to ask about the desk since he’d bet it used to be hers before JD upgraded her workstation. Pretending he didn’t ache to visit with the cute bookkeeper would be ridiculous in any case. He wondered how she was coping. Vicky wouldn’t approve of his manners in not checking up on her, would she?
Quick in, quick out. A little chatting never hurt anybody.
As long as he stuck to common courtesy and ignored the fantasies he’d spent the last several afternoons dreaming up, things would work out. It wasn’t as if Cindi would consent to him ravishing her during the middle of the day while she had a job to do. Hell, she’d barely acknowledged the connection they’d forged in the seductive twilight they’d shared his first night home when she’d joined them for dinner periodically.