Sometimes, when Seth was watching her, she slipped away, behind the rear curtain of the tent that kept them all out of the August sun. But she was always gone only for a moment before she returned.
And he was always glad when she did. For no reason he could figure out.
She repeatedly checked the clipboard she had with her, spoke into what appeared to be a walkie-talkie and was quietly consulted several times by other people sidling up behind her to whisper in her ear. But to anyone who wasn’t paying particular attention to Lacey, it all appeared to be Morgan Kincaid’s show—he was the star, he was the host, and he was the one who dug out the first shovelful of earth when that rear curtain was dramatically lifted and he stepped off the podium to actually break ground amid cheers that Lacey instigated.
At the meet and greet that followed the ceremony, Seth sauntered around. He socialized with other townsfolk, but never without a portion of his attention on Lacey. He tried not to be transfixed by her, but no matter where he was or who he was with, he was still watching her bustle around, tending to everything, seeming to be in her element juggling half a dozen things at once and keeping up a hectic pace to do it.
The longer things went on, the more he realized that he wasn’t likely to be able to rein her in and get even a few minutes alone with her. Yet he still couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.
She was dressed much like she’d been that first day they’d met, when she’d found him out fixing the fence—blue-gray, pencil-skirted business suit with a conservative white blouse underneath the jacket, and three-inch-high heeled pumps.
Her shiny, pale blond hair was pulled into a twist at the back of her head with some curly ends sprouting out the top at her crown. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes were bright and her lips…
He’d kissed those lips on Sunday night—he couldn’t stop thinking about that—and every time he looked at her, he just wanted to kiss them again….
Which he told himself over and over was a damned dumb thing to keep thinking because he couldn’t even catch up with her to say hello.
And he knew from experience that that was the way it was with dynamos.
High-energy, ambitious, determined, single-minded, driven—not only had Lacey described herself in those terms, Seth recognized it in her. Especially when he saw her in her element at the groundbreaking. She was a whirlwind.
And that wasn’t him. It wasn’t for him.
He liked small-town country living, farming and ranching, specifically because it allowed him the pace he thrived on. Sure, the work he did was hard—sometimes backbreaking—and it took time and required a seven-day-a-week schedule and frequent predawn days and even late-night hours if he had a sick animal or a storm to gauge or any number of other things that could happen.
But there wasn’t the kind of pressure, the kind of demands and anxiety and competitiveness that went with the corporate world, the business world.
The kinds of things that Lacey seemed to thrive on.
Not that there was anything wrong with what it took for either of them to flourish and be happy, to meet their goals. It just made them two very different people who wanted very different things, who lived very different lives.
And when things—people—didn’t mesh, they didn’t mesh. He knew from experience that he would take a backseat to the kind of drive and determination that fueled Lacey. And worse still, that she could want and expect him to change.
Given that, he told himself, he should stop dragging his heels and go home. He should stop standing around hoping that Lacey might find a minute to do more than cast him the few glances, the small smiles, the scant waves she’d cast him throughout this evening.
That’s as good as it’s gonna get, he thought. He should just give up the ghost and go.
Finally listening to himself, he wove through the crowd to get to the buffet table and set down the lemonade he’d been nursing. He decided along the way that he wasn’t even going to make an attempt to say goodbye to Lacey, that he was just going to leave.
And that was when he saw her excuse herself from talking to a group of football players and—keeping her green eyes honed on him to the exclusion of all else—she crossed to Seth.
“Can I ask a favor of you?” she said when she reached him, not seeming to realize there was no greeting in that.
“Anything,” Seth answered. He could have kicked himself for how grateful he was that she was finally paying some attention to him, for the fact that the hours he’d spent at this event hoping for a little time with her suddenly seemed like less of a big deal now that she was standing right there in front of him.
“It looked like you might be ready to take off—”
“I was.”
“I haven’t had time for a single bite of food today,” she continued. “And that isn’t going to change while this is going on. If I ask the caterer to pack some of this before everything is gone, would you take it home with you so I’ll have something to eat when I get there?”
I should have known…
But apparently he’d been hoping that she was going to ask him not to go because disappointment flooded him when she didn’t.
Still, he said, “Sure,” chafing at the fact that now that she’d finally sought him out there still wasn’t anything personal being exchanged between them, that she was only engaging him because she’d thought of how he could be of service to her.
Because that’s what backseats were good for…
“Thank you so much!” she said, as if he’d rescued her.
“Sure,” he repeated with an edge he couldn’t keep completely out of his voice. This felt much too much like déjà vu to him, too much like times with Charlotte.
“Lacey!” her father called to her from the other side of the tent, motioning with one hand for her to come.
“I’m sorry I don’t have time to talk. But I really appreciate this!” she said then, dashing away without delay after giving the caterer his instructions.
And just like that Seth was alone and watching her from a distance again as she jumped back in.
“Can you pack that food up now?” he asked the caterer. “I’m done here.”
And in that moment when he said it, he was thinking that he was finished with more than the groundbreaking event. That he was also finished with letting himself be in the grip of this attraction to Lacey.
And he meant it.
Until he had the food he’d agreed to take with him and he was on his way out of the tent.
Because that was when Lacey’s eyes locked on him once more and she smiled a smile that seemed to be for him alone.
A smile that made everyone else around them, everyone that separated them, seem to fade away.
A smile that drew his gaze to those lips once more.
Those lips he’d kissed.
And despite everything, despite his best intentions—and hating himself for it—he still just wanted to kiss her again…
* * *
It was after ten o’clock when Lacey’s day ended and she finally returned to the Camden guesthouse.
Lights were on in the main house—she never failed to notice that whenever she was coming or going—but there was no sign of Seth.
She soon discovered that he’d left the food she’d asked him to bring home for her in the guesthouse’s refrigerator. She was dizzy with hunger.
But the guesthouse seemed stuffy, so she opened windows, kicked off her shoes, tossed her jacket over the arm of the sofa, and went barefoot—food containers, a napkin, a glass of water, and a fork in hand—back out to eat at one of the half-dozen poolside tables.
Another glance at the main house told her nothing had changed—Seth was still nowhere to be seen. She faced in that direction anyway, sitting down to eat but keeping the French doors in her peripheral
vision.
The containers held finger sandwiches, pulled pork glistening with barbecue sauce, tiny hot dogs wrapped in puff pastry, and pinwheels of flour tortillas rolled like jelly rolls around refried beans, guacamole, peppers, olives and cheese.
Lacey was so hungry she didn’t know where to start. She popped one of the pinwheels into her mouth, then jabbed her fork into the pork with one hand and picked up a hot dog with the other.
And of course, just when she was the picture of gluttony, Seth appeared in the main house’s kitchen and caught sight of her.
She could see through the French doors that he was barefoot, too.
Lacey didn’t know why that was the first thing she noticed about him, but it was. Barefoot but dressed in faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt, his dark hair only finger-combed but looking sexily disheveled, his face beginning to show the faint shadow of beard.
When he saw her he hesitated, and Lacey had the impression that he was tempted to do nothing more than a neighborly wave before going on about his business.
But then he came as far as the French doors, opening a single set of them and stepping only to the threshold, where he leaned against the frame. He seemed intent on staying there, since he crossed one leg over the other and both arms over his chest. Keeping his distance, maybe…
“Another long day, another late night,” he said, somehow sounding disapproving of that.
“I’m glad it’s over!” Lacey responded after swallowing her food. But she was too hungry to resist the bite of barbecue before she held the hot dog aloft and said, “I’ll share if you’re feeling like a snack…”
What she really wanted was for him to stop keeping his distance and come closer, to join her.
“Not hungry,” he answered, staying where he was and giving her the sense that he was purposely being standoffish.
“I kept hoping I’d get to talk to you at the groundbreaking—I’m sorry that didn’t happen,” she said, not because she thought it mattered to him. She’d seen him chatting and mingling and fitting right in with his fellow townsfolk, and she doubted that he’d missed her the way she’d missed having even a moment with him. “It looked like you were pretty well occupied, though.”
“I was hoping I’d get to see a little of you, too,” he said.
“How about now?”
The invitation went out purely as a reflex because she just wanted him to come and sit with her, to give her those few minutes she hadn’t gotten to spend with him earlier.
But he didn’t instantly accept the invitation. Instead he seemed to ponder it, not appearing eager to oblige her.
Then, almost reluctantly, he finally shoved off the doorjamb and came with a leisurely cowboy swagger around the pool to her table.
Lacey was just happy to have him there and couldn’t help a small smile between bites of hot dog, more barbecue and another pinwheel.
“You saved my life with this food,” she told him, as he sat on the chair across from her. “At home there are a dozen fast-food places I could choose from even late into the night, but things aren’t that way in Northbridge. And I had to take care of everything else at the groundbreaking—there was no way to take care of me, too.”
“You were running around.”
“Like a crazy person! I was thinking that once the ceremony was over and people were just eating and drinking and talking, I could take some time for myself. I thought I’d maybe see if you wanted to sneak away with me and a couple of plates of food so I could just have a breather.” She confessed this a bit quietly because she wasn’t sure that was something he would have been interested in, and she didn’t want to presume anything.
“That would have been nice. I would have liked it,” Seth said, still with some reserve.
“But there was just no way. Every time I’d get a bead on you, say ‘Excuse me’ and take a step, someone or something else would have to be dealt with. And then I saw you set down that glass and I just knew you were leaving before I’d even gotten to say hello…”
“So you figured the next-best thing was to enlist me to bring home food?”
There was still something in his tone that said he wasn’t particularly happy with her, but she didn’t understand it. She pretended she hadn’t heard it and said, “Definitely not the next-best thing, but I was desperate. And if you’d just have something to eat so I’m not the only one of us stuffing my face, this is sort of what I was aiming for earlier….”
He studied her for a moment, and Lacey thought that he was choosing whether or not to go on being stiff and standoffish with her. She still wasn’t sure what was going on with him.
But then he shook his head as if in concession, sighed, took one of the pinwheels and popped it into his mouth.
He also sat slightly lower and more comfortably in the wrought-iron chair before he said, “Where is home for you when you aren’t here—the place with all the fast-food restaurants you could want? I know your father is based out of Billings—he told me that at the closing on the land. But what about you?”
“I live in Billings, too. Where I grew up. In the carriage house at my dad’s, actually.”
“You still live with your father?”
“The carriage house is separate,” Lacey explained. “And farther away from my dad’s house than the guesthouse is from you. Plus it faces away from his house, so my front door is on the block behind his. We never know when the other has company or is coming or going or anything. I have to go out my back door and across tennis courts and his whole backyard just to get to the rear entrance of his place.”
But yes, she was defensive about it because it sounded as if she’d never left the nest.
Which was why she added, “I lived at college for four years, shared an apartment with a girlfriend after that, then lived with someone else for two years—until two years ago—but then it was…I don’t know…less lonely to go back home than to get an apartment or a house by myself.”
“The someone else you lived with was a guy? A husband?”
“A fiancé. I’ve never been married,” she said, unwilling to say more, so she went in another direction. “By then my friends from high school and college were all married and having kids. Almost everyone I work with is male except for the few women secretaries or assistants—and they don’t relax around me enough to be friendly or to make friends outside of work—so I was really pretty isolated. The carriage house seemed like a way to maintain my independence but still not be as cut off as I felt at the time.”
“And I’m betting that in the two years since you moved into your father’s carriage house you’ve been too busy to make any new friends.”
Busy—that word had an edge when he said it, but Lacey wasn’t quite sure why, so again she ignored it.
“I have been too busy. Especially since that’s about the time I started to work on my clothing line. Since then I’ve basically had two jobs.”
“And now you have the biggest job yet.”
“And now I have the biggest job yet,” she confirmed.
“So no personal life? No social life?” he asked, frowning a bit at her.
“Not really. I get the occasional invitation but I usually have to turn it down unless it’s for business. And I haven’t had time for dating—so no, not much personal life or socializing.”
“What about hobbies? Don’t tell me work is all you ever do.”
Lacey shrugged. “Okay, I won’t tell you that, but it’s the truth.”
“How about movies or TV or skiing or sailing or hiking or knitting or gardening or…I don’t know—kickboxing. Isn’t there something you do to wind down?”
Lacey laughed. “Winding down—now that’s a trick I haven’t mastered. Tonight, for instance, I’m tired but I’ll still have trouble sleeping—”
Of course Set
h was part of that problem lately because she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Thinking about what they’d talked about or done. Thinking about him being just a few yards away. Thinking about what he might be doing or if he was sleeping—and what he might be wearing if he was. Thinking about that kiss last night…
“And while I’m having trouble sleeping, it seems like a waste of time not to bring a little paperwork to bed with me, so I guess you could say that that’s what I do to wind down—paperwork in bed.”
Seth shook his head again. He let his blue eyes bore into her for a long moment, his expression showing disbelief.
Then he sat forward and said, “Are you done eating?”
She’d been eating all along, but had definitely slowed down. “One more thing…” she said, peering into the containers until she found the small cup of butter mints she’d asked for.
She offered them to Seth.
He took two and popped them into his mouth. She did the same.
“Okay, now I’m done.”
Seth stood and began to gather the food containers as he gave instructions. “Go inside and change your clothes. Put on something old and comfortable that can be washed. And shoes that can get dirty. I’ll throw this stuff away, get some shoes myself and meet you back here in a few minutes.”
“For?”
“I’ll show you one of the things I do to wind down.”
The thoughts that went through her mind when he said that shocked her. It didn’t involve a change of clothes; it involved no clothes…
There was just something about this guy that brought out a randy side of her that she hadn’t even known she had.
She might not have taken his orders except that the standoffishness he’d been exhibiting before was gone and she was so glad that she didn’t want to rock the boat. Plus she was curious about what he had up his sleeve and—as always—she was enjoying being with him and didn’t want it to end.
The Camden Cowboy Page 9