Behind Closed Doors

by Debbi Rawlins

  “You want your boss to have a coronary? He’s watching you.”

  “Nah, Nathan sent us over.” Craig grinned. “I knew he wouldn’t let you do this yourself. You know Troy?”

  Tall and lanky, Troy looked younger than Craig. He immediately doffed his hat and mumbled a greeting.

  “I’ve seen you playing pool at the bar, haven’t I?” She smiled when his eyes widened in surprise, a pleased grin tugging at his mouth. The only reason she’d noticed him was because of his bright red hair, but she kept that to herself. “I really can handle this, you know,” she said, picking up a board and transferring it to her truck.

  Craig hefted five slats at once.

  So did Troy.

  Show-offs. She stood back and watched for a moment. They worked fast. She decided to go for broke and lifted three boards...and tried not to whimper. They weren’t heavy, just unwieldy. She swung her load around and missed Troy’s ear by a hair. And only because he had good reflexes.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.” She slid the boards onto the bed and spun around to Troy. Cupping his jaw with her hand, she searched his face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine,” he mumbled, blushing furiously.

  “You sure?” she asked, inspecting his cheek. His skin was warm, probably because she was embarrassing him. But would he admit it if she’d grazed him?

  “Um, Beth.” Craig took her shoulders, turned her toward the back of the barn and gave her a gentle push. “Go sit. We’ll do this faster without your help,” he said, and started laughing.

  “My balance was off,” she protested, squirming away from him. “I can still—”

  “You trying to maim my men, Bethany?”

  Nathan’s voice made her jump. And not just because it was deep and rich and warmed her from the inside out like a decadent sip of Rémy Martin. Very few people called her Bethany, and none of them said it like that.

  She turned to find him standing in front of a maroon-colored truck with the Lucky 7 logo on the door. The pickup hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. It was a really big extended-cab model you couldn’t miss. The kind the towing company had used to repossess trailers in the park where she’d lived as a child.

  “I’d appreciate you doing like Craig asked and stepping aside,” he said to her, his mouth curved in a faint smile as he pulled on tan leather gloves. Then he dropped the tailgate. “Boys...lets load the Dodge first.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” Craig said, and exchanged a puzzled look with Troy.

  “Hold on.” Beth had no intention of moving. “I don’t want this to be a big production. Or infringe on anyone’s time. I really am capable of doing this myself.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Nathan said, and then ignored her and grabbed a whole stack of lumber. “You want to be useful? Grab me a bottle of water out of the fridge.”

  Well, didn’t he sound like a man used to giving orders? She glanced at the other two who’d gotten very quiet, then reminded herself she wasn’t in charge here. He could change his mind, renege on giving her the lumber and she’d be crying a river come tomorrow. On the upside, standing by and watching him move wasn’t a bad deal. His rolled-up sleeves bared his corded forearms, and the light blue shirt was fitted enough that she could see the play of muscle across his back every time he hefted a load.

  He stopped to adjust his Stetson and looked at her. “Do you know where the fridge is?”

  Pressing her lips together to keep from making an unwise remark, she turned to Craig and Troy. “While I’m at it, would you like something?”

  “No, thanks,” Troy mumbled.

  “Yeah.” Craig flashed her a grin. “See if there’s a beer.”

  She didn’t see Nathan’s expression, but she could imagine it wasn’t pleasant seeing how Craig ducked his head and laughed.

  “Just joking,” he said, stopping to sweep his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll follow you to town and get you unloaded. By then it’ll be quitting time and I’ll buy you a beer.”

  “I’ll take care of Bethany,” Nathan said, and, God, she had to stop letting his voice make her all gooey inside. “I have to go to the Food Mart anyway.”

  She nearly dropped the bottle she’d grabbed from the ancient refrigerator. Catching the shocked looks on Craig’s and Troy’s faces, she knew her surprise was justified. Even if Rachel hadn’t told her Nathan stayed away from town, Beth couldn’t see him going to the Food Mart. He’d send someone else.

  After he dropped that little bomb, the rest of the job was finished mostly in silence. She heard Craig quietly bet Troy twenty bucks that their boss didn’t know where the Food Mart was located. Naturally Beth pretended she hadn’t heard. The two guys were shooting her curious looks, probably thinking the same thing she was...that she might have something to do with Nathan Landers’s sudden itch to go to town.

  And, Lord, she hoped that was true. She got a little tingly just thinking about what it could mean. Long cool nights in Blackfoot Falls could use a pinch or two of something spicy. And he looked like a man who’d know just which ingredients to use.

  “What now? You want the paint, too?”

  She blinked at the gallon cans she’d been absently staring at—ten of them had been stored beside the lumber and now stood alone against the wall. She turned to Nathan and grinned. “You offering?”

  His mouth curved in what could pass for a slight smile. “Thanks, boys,” he said to Craig and Troy. “Go ahead and knock off early.”

  “You sure, boss?” Craig’s face lit up. “Woody’s gonna pitch a fit.”

  Nathan jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

  The guys didn’t have to be told twice. Quiet Troy let out a whoop and they both tore off toward the bunkhouse.

  Beth shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling off balance now that they were alone. She needed to get in her truck and head back to town. Give herself time to think. Her gaze drifted to the paint. “I’ve screwed up your project,” she said, pulling off the gloves she’d ended up not needing. “Now you have paint but no lumber.”

  “One has nothing to do with the other.” His gaze fell on her hands, and she wanted to childishly hide them behind her back.

  Her nails were horrible, dirty and jagged. She hadn’t had a manicure in ages. Not since she’d moved to Blackfoot Falls. “What should I call you?” she asked, and saw that she’d confused him. “And don’t say boss. That won’t fly.”

  There it was again...the almost smile. “Nathan.” He took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark hair. “Craig calls you Beth. Is that what you prefer?”

  She had to think about it. These days only her sister called her Bethany, probably out of habit. But Beth did love the way he said it. “Either one.” She shrugged. “Beth is shorter.”

  Neither of them moved. They just looked at each other for a long silent moment that should’ve been uncomfortable but somehow felt natural. Standing this close, she could see that he was bigger than she’d first thought. Broader and taller...maybe more muscular, but she wouldn’t know for sure until she saw him naked. If she ever saw him naked. Oh, she really hoped so.

  She cleared her throat and took a step back. “Well, I guess we should head to town. I’ve taken up enough of your afternoon.”

  He blinked, then ran his gaze down the front of her shirt to her jeans. “Come with me,” he said, and walked farther into the dim, cavernous barn without a backward glance, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t follow.

  A little nervous that the shadows seemed to gobble him up, Beth hesitated and glanced over her shoulder. Craig and Troy were long gone. “Were you waiting to get rid of the witnesses?”

  The words were barely out of her mouth when light flooded the barn and she whipped her gaze back toward the spot where she’d last seen him. He stood partly under the steps to the hayloft, between a cabinet and a workbench, watching her with a look of amusement. “You must be from the city.”

  “I’m from Montan
a,” she said, a tad defensive and hoping he didn’t think she’d really been nervous. To prove she wasn’t, she strolled toward him, casually glancing at the bales of hay stacked as high as her shoulders, at the assortment of tools hanging on the rough-hewn walls, and inhaling the scent of oiled leather becoming more pungent this far inside. And tried to ignore the acceleration of her pulse the closer she got to him.

  “Where?”

  “Outside of Billings.”

  He barely reacted yet still managed to communicate “case closed.” Oh, but he was so wrong. He gave Billings too much credit. She’d seen more than half the world. As far as cities went, Billings was peanuts.

  She stopped several feet away to watch him rummage through a drawer. Without looking up, he said. “You have to come closer.”

  “Why?”

  Nathan glanced up then, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “What do you think I’m going to do to you?”

  “I have no idea.” In spite of her effort to play it cool, her laugh sounded nervous, so she gave it up. “Why do you think I was ready to bolt?”

  He held up a large can of paint thinner. “The light’s better over here.”

  “I knew it was something like that,” she muttered, and saw the corner of his mouth twitch before she sneaked another peek at her stained hands and awful nails.

  “Let’s see.”

  She slowly exhaled, then placed her hand on his outstretched palm. Of all the things she might’ve anticipated, this scenario was so far down the list that... Oh, hell, it hadn’t even made the cut. It wasn’t so much about the touching...it was his unexpected gentleness that made the contact feel irrationally intimate.

  “Do you give manicures, too?” she murmured, watching him use a clean rag to rub each stain off her hand.

  Still focused on his task, he responded with a patient smile, making her feel like a flustered twelve-year-old girl who didn’t know how to talk to boys yet. The way he was acting reminded her of the way she treated the guys she met at the Watering Hole. She joked around with them all the time, never taking any of them seriously when they tried to hit on her. They were all younger than her, and none of them were her type.

  Oh, damn, payback was really gonna be a bitch. Nathan was the first man she’d met in Blackfoot Falls who appealed to her. She was twenty-nine and she guessed he was in his early thirties. Good age difference in her book, but maybe he simply wasn’t interested. Maybe he didn’t care for blondes or tall women. Maybe he was the sort of man who would never get over his dead wife.

  “There you go, Bethany,” he said, meeting her eyes, his gaze lingering. “The sink is over in the corner.”

  “Thanks.” She did a prompt about-face so he wouldn’t see her giddy smile and scooted off to wash her hands.

  He’d done a thorough job of getting rid of every little mark.

  She’d wager he was just as thorough in the bedroom, and holy crap, did she ever want to find out if she was right.

  3

  NATHAN WATCHED HER stop to stretch her back. Bethany had clearly waited until she thought he couldn’t see her. Though she hadn’t complained once, and even tried to increase the loads she carried from the truck to the front porch, he knew she wasn’t used to this much manual labor. Twice he’d asked her to step aside and let him finish. Might as well reason with a mule.

  If he’d known she was going to be so stubborn, he would’ve brought Craig with him. But Nathan hadn’t been thinking about getting the job done quickly or efficiently when he’d offered to bring the lumber. The fact was, he hadn’t thought much past those long legs and smoky hazel eyes.

  “I changed my mind,” he said when she returned for more boards. “I’ll take some water.” He hefted six slats onto his shoulder and caught her eyeing him with a suspicious frown.

  “I saw a whole big bottle of water in your truck. Think I don’t know you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  “You have some interesting paranoia issues you might want to get checked out.” He lowered his load to the second stack they’d started and then reached for the two boards she’d snatched off the truck. “Your water is probably cold. Mine isn’t.”

  She narrowed her gaze, staring him down and holding firm to her bundle...until his knuckles grazed her breast and she let go. He hadn’t meant to touch her like that, but her startled reaction made him smile all the same. Luckily she didn’t see because he’d already walked past her.

  He set down the boards and shook his head at the pair of new dark green shutters. The loose white siding around them was in sorry shape. A good wind could carry off the weathered clapboards. “You do realize you’ll have to take these shutters down again.”

  “Yes, I do.” She pulled off a glove and scratched the tip of her nose. “To fix the walls and windows. And the new door will have to come off, too,” she said, stepping back to admire the repairs. “That’s okay. We won’t get to the front for a while. The place can look nice in the meantime.”

  The right side of the porch had been reinforced, but the plank floor on the left was still sagging. At least the steps had been replaced. “You working mostly on the inside?” he asked.

  “Yes, I know I should make the most of the good weather but I take whatever labor I can get when I can get it.” She removed her second glove and stuffed them both between her clamped knees while she loosened her ponytail. A breeze played with her long wavy hair, the honey-colored strands getting away from her as she tried to secure them in one hand. She put her hair back in the ponytail, more tightly this time. “I’ll admit, at first I hadn’t considered the weather turning quickly. I’ve never tackled anything like this before.”

  The sound of someone gunning a neglected engine snapped him out of his trance. “You’re a brave woman,” he said, annoyed that he’d been staring when he should’ve been hauling lumber.

  Pulling her gloves back on, she followed him to his truck. “Or stupid. Guess I’ll know in a couple of months.”

  He threw a look at the tired white structure as he grabbed another load. “That might be too optimistic.”

  “I know.” Bethany sighed. “I wouldn’t care when it got done except I promised Rachel I’d have it completed in time for her wedding. She has friends who’ll need accommodations.”

  “Rachel?” He stopped and thought for a second. “Little Rachel McAllister? She’s getting married?”

  Bethany laughed, and she didn’t hold back. “Little? Are you sure you’re thinking of the same Rachel I’m talking about?”

  Nathan smiled. “I don’t know her well. I went to school with her two older brothers until the eighth grade,” he said, and caught her puzzled frown. “County-line dispute. When the dust settled, my brothers and I went to Twin Creeks High.”

  “That must’ve been awful for you.”

  He shrugged. “We already knew every kid within a hundred miles. And I got to play football without having to compete with the McAllister brothers. I wonder if those boys ever stopped growing.”

  She laughed again. “Cole might be taller than you, but I doubt Jesse or Trace is.”

  “I’m only six-two.”

  “Only?”

  He watched her balance the pair of boards she’d grabbed, trying hard to keep his attention off her legs and butt. “You’re pretty tall yourself.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, but then tilted her head to the side and looked past him toward the street.

  “Nathan Landers? My word, is that really you?”

  “Ah, Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, though he didn’t recognize the excited voice coming from behind him. This was the third time someone had slowed down to convey their heartfelt shock at seeing him. The boardinghouse was located at the edge of town, but right on Main Street. He should’ve known it would be a circus.

  He turned and saw that it was the white-haired Lemon twins. One sat behind the wheel with a pinched frown aimed at the sister leaning across her and doing the talking. He couldn’t remember either of their
first names or tell them apart. What he did know was they probably shouldn’t be driving, since the big old Chevy was taking up both lanes.

  “Afternoon, ladies,” he said, touching the brim of his Stetson and keeping an eye out for oncoming traffic.

  “How long has it been since we’ve seen you in town, Nathan? Two years? Three? I see you’re helping Beth. She’s such a wonderful girl. Very considerate, and pretty to boot. Won’t it be nice to have the old boardinghouse open again?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Mabel, give the man a chance to answer.” The driver jerked her shoulder and shifted to face him, obviously trying to force her sister back to the passenger side.

  “Miss Lemon?” He gestured to a black truck heading toward them.

  Her eyes got wide and she fumbled for the column shift. “Darn it, Mabel. Give me some room before we have another accident.”

  Nathan winced. He saw she was growing more nervous and jerking on the stick. The car lurched to the rear. “I think you have it in Reverse,” he said, releasing his load back into the bed and putting a warning hand up to the driver of the approaching truck. As soon as Nathan reached the sedan, he crouched to check the steering column through the open window.

  Miss Lemon found Drive. The Chevy pitched forward, and he jumped back, stumbling out of the way. He sensed Bethany behind him. Felt her hands grip his shoulders.

  “Oops.” She slid her palms down both sides of his spine, trying to steady him. Then she ducked her head around his body, keeping an arm wrapped across his back, and said, “Go ahead, Miss Lemon, steer toward the right lane. You’re doing fine.” She gave him a brief glance. “You okay? All body parts accounted for?”

  “I think so.” He hadn’t actually lost his balance, but he liked having her so close he could smell her floral-scented hair. Feel the warmth of her skin through his shirt. “Might have to take inventory, though.”

  Her gaze snapped back to him. She gave him a long look, then let out a laugh and lowered her arm. Stepping away, she watched the Lemon sisters inch down the street.