He's Back

by Aria Ford

  I nodded. She raised a thumb in agreement.

  “Tell them the engine’s overheated.” I offered.

  “The engine’s overheated.” Another pause. “Um…yes. Thanks.”

  I looked at her with a questioning expression and she hung up. She came over.

  “They’re on their way.”

  I snorted. Now that the crisis was momentarily averted, the fact that Reese Bradford, recent lieutenant of the Fourth Brigade Combat Team had failed to fix my own truck was too much for me. I sighed and looked away.

  Now I’m not only a failure and a hopeless case; I’m a failure and a hopeless case who couldn’t even fix my broken shit.

  “So,” the woman said in her foreign accent. “Who are you? I’m Kelly.”

  “I.” I didn’t smile—I didn’t want to talk. Why didn’t she just go away? I wasn’t up for this.

  “Well, then. Hi there.”

  I shook her hand. Despite my bad mood, a flicker of energy passed through me as I touched her hand, a spark that leaped up my blood vessels to my cock and made my heart thump.

  Not that she’s likely to want me. I mean, now she knows I can’t even remember to put water in the cooler. What a fail.

  “It’s a great day,” Kelly said. I scowled. She stared at me.

  “What?” I asked moodily.

  “Just wondering if the cat got your tongue…”

  I glared at her. “Look. Just go away, okay? I don’t much like having to ask women to help me with my engine trouble.”

  She laughed. “Wow. That’s some attitude. Well, then. I’ll just get in my car and go, then.”

  I shrugged. “Well, thanks for the help.” I turned to leave. She stayed where she was.

  “What?” I asked.

  She didn’t say anything. She just stared at me. I felt my irritation rise and then, abruptly, fizzle. I was being stupid. She hadn’t done anything but try and help me. Why was I being like this?

  “What?” I asked again, more kindly.

  “I don’t know where I’m going…not exactly.”

  I chuckled. “Well! For someone who didn’t know where they were, you sounded mighty confident.”

  She frowned. “I didn’t say I didn’t know where I was, did I?”

  “No,” I admitted. I couldn’t help it—I was starting to like her. For all her irritating ways, she was actually brave. Not many people could put up with my moods…in fact, she was the first person I had met who didn’t walk away when I was like this. Even my old army buddies got fed up with me the way I was now.

  “Well, then. Maybe you can help me?”

  I pulled a face. “I’m not much use, am I?” The last time I’d tried to help someone, that time with Parker and Hewitt, they’d ended up dead. I wasn’t going to tell anyone that.

  “You haven’t even done anything yet.”

  I thought about that. Actually, she was right. I hadn’t yet. Not here. “I guess.”

  “Well, then,” she laughed. “I am just needing to get myself to Orangehill Ranch.”

  “Oh.” I frowned. I knew very well where the place was. But I wasn’t sure how to explain to her how to get there. I paused, thinking. Then I had an idea. “Maybe we can go into town together and then find the way there?”

  “Okay,” she smiled. “It’s easier with two people. Though,” she said, giving me a sidelong glance, “I’m driving. Okay?”

  I shrugged. “Fine. I don’t wanna drive that car,” I added, inclining my head toward the VW she was using. “I think it has its own character.”

  She nodded. “You bet!” A chuckle escaped that long, pale throat. “It took me all day to get the thing to behave. I dunno why I hired it.”

  “You hired it?” I frowned.

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “From a local garage that said they loaned them. I chose it because it was cheaper than the rest. Silly, really.”

  I grinned. “Well, I bought this for the same reason.”

  She laughed. “We’re the same kind of silly.”

  I nodded. “Seems like it.”

  We were still chatting and laughing by the time the car-repair people arrived. They took one look at the pickup and grinned.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” the one mechanic said. The other chuckled.

  “You did well to get that thing on the road! That’s old Preston’s truck, yeah.”

  “It was,” I agreed. What was that all about?

  They both chuckled.

  “Well, ain’t no small wonder it stopped dead on you,” the first guy said. “That thing’s been a piece of scrap since I started work.”

  “Thanks,” I said thinly. “I always like to find out things like that after I’ve just bought.”

  They both laughed.

  “Well done, man,” the second guy said. “We’ll do our best with it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kelly had been standing beside me during the short conversation. When the guys towed away my truck, she looked up and laughed.

  “Sounds bad, yeah.”

  “Yeah.”

  We were both grinning at each other, though I couldn’t have said why. I guess I found it hard to take my eyes off her…she had those stunning coppery eyes and red hair and her body was so hot.

  She laughed. “Well, could be worse. They’re fixing it, at least.”

  “Yeah,” I snorted. “We can hope.”

  “Yes.”

  I sighed. “I guess we should head off,” I said. I was reluctant to move. I wanted to stand here and talk to her some more.

  “We should,” she agreed. She looked at her watch. “I said I’d be there about half an hour ago. Don’t want to worry anyone.”

  “Sure,” I agreed. “Thanks.”

  “What for?”

  “For helping me.”

  “Of course I did.” She smiled and my body tingled at the sight of those red lips, her eyes glinting above them. She was pretty and nice and funny. I really liked her.

  I wanted to take this further. It had been a long while since I’d felt this way about a girl, since I’d met someone who made me feel like that. And she was nice to talk to.

  It was only when they had gone that I realized I had just spent twenty minutes talking to a stranger, and I hadn’t once felt myself fall into the black rages that drove away all my ex-friends. I had spoken perfectly naturally and reasonably for a full twenty minutes.

  Well, I thought as I got into the passenger seat of her Golf and we headed off together, there’s a first time for everything.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kelly

  As I put my foot on the gas and pulled away along the sandy road to town, I perused the stranger who sat beside me. My suitcases were still in the back. I’d arrived last night. And I had just bumped into the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.

  I had almost lost my breath the first time I saw him—he was stunning: tall, with that dark curly hair and that lean face.

  Even though I guess I shouldn’t be picking up strangers in my car alone, I kinda fancy him.

  I felt a smile cross my face and looked away quickly, before he saw my expression. It was kind of obvious, what I was thinking. I felt my cheeks get hot.

  “You settling here?” he said. I jumped as his voice brought me back from the border of my fantasizing.

  “Uh, not quite,” I said. “I’m just visiting.”

  “Oh.”

  I wondered, as he settled back into the passenger seat beside me, what he was thinking. He was an odd person. I didn’t really understand why he was so brooding—so rude, actually. Well, that wasn’t my problem, was it? I’d never see him again—or probably not, anyway.

  Oddly, that thought didn’t entirely please me. Part of me wanted to see him again. Let’s face it, part of me wanted to get to know him further. I hadn’t met a man who made me feel like this for years. He was rugged, hard and forceful. And part of me, I had to admit, liked that. I liked being vulnerable sometimes. In my life, there
hadn’t been much opportunity to be. He startled me by clearing his throat, then asking: “Who’re you visiting?”

  “My grandpa. He lives on the ranch.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes.” I frowned. “Why’d you ask?”

  “Only thinking that it’s a lot of work for an old guy on his own,” he replied. It could have been a rude thing to say, but, oddly, he didn’t say it rudely; only thoughtfully.

  “I guess,” I nodded. “Which is why I’m here.”

  “You?” He laughed.

  I felt the annoyance I’d been feeling earlier rise again. “Yes. Me. Why not?”

  “Well,” he paused, gathering himself. “You’re a girl. How’re you going to help him with that stuff? It’s man’s work.”

  I stared, then I laughed. “Man’s work? Listen, buster, if you’re like that, you can get outta this truck and back to the seventeenth century.” I’d never heard such nonsense. That was too much.

  To my surprise, he chuckled. “Okay. Sorry I spoke.”

  I didn’t say anything. I sat looking out of the front window of the truck, brooding. It was difficult to decide what to say. On the one hand, I liked him. He was different, funny, sexy. But on the other hand, the rudeness and the machismo weren’t doing it for me. This last comment had taken it a bit too far. I was halfway between simply ignoring him and actually leaving him stuck on the roadside, when he cleared his throat.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  I turned and looked at him. “Well, you did anyway. But I can overlook it.”

  He chuckled. “I guess that’s the closest we’re going to get to apologizing, eh?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  His eyes looked into mine, and I felt a spark jump between him and me. His eyes were a soft brown, in contrast with the dark hair. Their depths drew me in, drowning me. I felt my whole body respond to them. It was the briefest glance, but it felt like a kind of agreement. We liked each other and he wanted each me like I wanted him.

  When I looked away, focusing on the road again, my heart was thumping and my body was tingling. Was that really true? Or did I just imagine that?

  I sat silently behind the wheel, lost in the rush of blood that pulsed into my brain and, well, into other places too.

  “Turn left here,” he said. His voice was soft and I almost didn’t hear him. I slowed and turned left. Again, there was something between relief for his help and irritation at the way he gave it, that flashed through me. I wasn’t his child.

  I headed on, driving toward the first sight of Sheridan.

  The street was wide, lined with quaintly elegant sandstone buildings. There were tall green trees shading the cars that parked there, or the people who walked along them, taking it slow in the summer heat. I rolled down the window, feeling hot myself.

  “Whew! Is the summer always like this?” I asked.

  He grinned. “No. Mostly it’s worse.”

  I pulled a face at him. He laughed.

  “Right. Now, I asked if you’d help me find my way around. So: can you direct me to the gas station?”

  He grinned. “You just passed it on the way in.”

  I felt my heart thud the way it did when my blood was up and I was going to lose my temper. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t know, did I?”

  I drew up to the side of the road, stopped and let my head drop onto the boss of the steering-wheel. When I looked up I found him looking at me with an amused expression.

  “Right,” I said. “I’m hot. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I don’t have much patience right now. And you are draining the last little bit of it out of me. Can you direct us back again?”

  He chuckled. “Yes.” Then, when he seemed to realize I wasn’t kidding, he frowned. “If you’re hungry, we could go for lunch?”

  I blinked. That sounded like a wonderful idea. Something to eat, and this guy to talk to?”

  “Actually, that’d be great,” I said enthusiastically.

  He grinned. “Let’s do it.”

  “Gas first,” I said. The needle was at a quarter and the last thing I wanted was to be stuck on the national road in the middle of nowhere with no gas. As it was, he was proving not to be dangerous, but who knew what other kinds of people I’d run into, alone on my own in this place?

  “Gas first,” he agreed. “Now, it’s a quarter mile back, on the righthand side.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I looked for a place to turn around, headed into a car park, and threw a turn that would have had a driving-school instructor being sick out of the window. Then I headed back onto the road again.

  He laughed. “Well, you don’t let things get in your way, do you?”

  “If you mean the lamp-pole, I did see it,” I commented wryly. “I just wasn’t too bothered about it.”

  He roared with laughter and I found myself looking into those beautiful warm brown eyes. They met mine and held my gaze and I felt my tummy tingle. This guy really is stunning.

  I cleared my throat and drove to the gas-station.

  “Right,” I said when the needle was on full. “Now what?”

  He grinned. “It depends?”

  “On what?” I asked, feeling tired again. If he was going to start playing his tricks again, I didn’t have the energy for it.

  “On what you like eating.”

  “At this point, I like food,” I said bluntly. “If you have somewhere that doesn’t serve extra helpings of food poisoning with every meal, take me there.”

  He grinned. “I think we can manage that. Okay. So, you want to take the first right, then you want to head on up and take the next left…”

  “Tell me as we go along,” I said promptly, and threw the car into the traffic. I was hungry. I was tired. And he was the most interesting and infuriating guy I had ever met.

  “I’m not a GPS,” he muttered. I laughed.

  “You can act like one for the next ten minutes.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s better,” I said. He pulled a face.

  It was only as he directed me to what looked awfully like someone’s uncle’s backyard barbecue that I realized that we were getting on as if we had known each other for my whole life. We’d only just met. It was amazing.

  Maybe it’s because he isn’t challenged by my own big personality.

  Most of the guys I knew found me difficult. Too abrupt, not exactly what you’d call feminine. But he was just fine with it. Even though we had only just met, I already felt as if I could take the gloves off with him and be my true, somewhat-abrasive and ultimately-sassy self. It was a wonderful feeling.

  “Is this it?” I asked.

  “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” he said piously. I laughed.

  “I don’t intend to judge it by its cover. It’s not the cover I’ll be eating, is it?”

  “No,” he agreed. “You’ll be eating something much better than that.”

  “Good.”

  We went in. Inside, the place was actually quite nice, in a rustic, rural kind of way. There was a bar along the back, and tables and chairs out the front. There were some other customers already there—some looked like farmers and some were cowboys. I couldn’t quite believe it. I looked sideways at the place, wondering if the old guy who loaned me the VW hadn’t gotten it mixed up with a time-travel device. It was odd.

  “Hey,” Reese said to the barman. I felt more reassured when I saw a TV behind the bar with a sports-match showing on it. That anchored the place in the right century again.

  “Hey, Reese.” The man nodded politely. “Drink, or something to eat?”

  “Both,” Reese said affably. “We need a table for two.”

  “Oh,” he said, noticing me for the first time. “Oh.”

  Oh, yourself I wanted to say.

  Reese seemed to be enjoying that, which made me cross with him.

  He led me out the back to a table in the shade of a trellis, over wh
ich grapevines grew. From here, we could see out over the valley. It was a beautifully-situated place. I smiled.

  “Thanks for bringing me here,” I said shyly.

  He smiled. “No problem.” He looked like he was enjoying my pleasure in the surroundings and that made me feel surprisingly happy.

  “So,” I said as the waiter appeared with menus. “What do you do here on the weekend?”

  He shrugged. “Not much, usually. Work on the farm, come in here for a drink and lunch and the sport, go home and work again.”

  “Oh.” I blinked. That sounded like, well, a lot of hard work. “Where’s your ranch?”

  “Next door to Orangehill,” he said with a smug smile. I gave him an exasperated look.

  “You could have said that earlier.”

  “I could have,” he agreed with that same annoying smugness. “Only I wanted to explain how to get there, and that’s tricky. This way, maybe my pickup will be finished by the time we’re through and I can lead you there.”

  I had to agree that made more sense than him giving me long and convoluted instructions, so I nodded. “Okay.”