07 It Had to Be You

by Jill Shalvis

  She was standing on the porch when Marge came out, hand extended, aspirin in her palm. “Hey, honey, take these.”

  Callie didn’t question how or why Marge was keeping track of when she needed aspirin. Marge took pride in doing such things. Callie dutifully took the pills for her aching head and ribs. “Thanks.”

  “You okay?

  “Always.”

  Marge patted her shoulder, then went back inside. Callie took a deep breath and put the morning into perspective. The small-town gossip train would go into effect now. She knew this. In no time, whichever Realtors Jake had called would hear about the missing serum and what had happened to Sierra. Terrible as it sounded, it would put a question mark on the property—a definite disadvantage to selling.

  Torn between hope and regret, she was still standing on the front porch when the airport vans arrived with their next guests. Things went fast after that. Checking in the group of Japanese businessmen, seeing them all happy with their accommodations and Amy’s big pot of chili that night for dinner, getting everyone into the spirit of the Wild West was fun but hard work.

  Their guests didn’t speak much English, which was a challenge. So was the four-year-old son one of them had brought on the spur of the moment. Keito had run his short little legs all afternoon. The horses and hens had been an unbearable excitement for him, and the puppies had sent him into ecstasy.

  At sunset, Eddie lit a bonfire for the guests to sit around, and Amy brought out the makings for s’mores, which was met with such enthusiasm, Callie actually caught the girl almost smiling before she walked off toward her cabin. Callie had hoped Amy would stay outside, but her duties would begin early every morning now, and they didn’t include having to socialize with the guests. But still, Callie wished she’d want to. The others always did; it was a huge part of the Blue Flame’s charm.

  Stone, obviously feeling better than he had earlier, pulled out his guitar. With the stars out and the chill of the spring night being beaten back by the warm, crackling fire, he and Eddie taught everyone silly campfire songs. The guests all fell for their easy appeal. Marge came out of her cabin and sat next to Tucker, humming along with the songs. Lou came out a few minutes later. Fifty-something, he was a tall, beefy man with a wild shock of gray hair and chocolate eyes that usually twinkled. Tonight, he hunched his broad shoulders and jammed his hands into his pockets as he came close. “Callie.” He nodded his Stetson at her.

  “Hey, Lou.” She knew how worried he and Marge were about money ever since he’d been laid off from Roger’s Garage in Three Rocks two weeks ago. That he looked so unhappy tugged at her. “Any luck finding a new job?”

  “No, thanks to Roger.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s telling people I stole from him. Tools and money.” He looked at his feet. “There weren’t many other jobs out there to begin with, but now…” Helplessly, he shrugged.

  “Why would Roger do that to you?”

  “I don’t steal. You know I don’t.”

  “Of course I know that.”

  “I think his punk nephew Tony did it, so he could have my job.” He kicked the dirt. “Not that Roger’ll ever believe me over him. Tony’s a slimy weasel but he’s a smart slimy weasel.”

  “Oh, Lou. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. I know the truth, Marge knows the truth. We’ll be all right.” But he sighed heavily, then walked over to his wife and sat next to her. She hugged him hard and kept singing.

  Everyone else had smiles on their faces, too, especially their guests as they sang in heavily accented English, and after a few minutes, some of Callie’s tension eased. They had problems, they all had problems, but in spite of it, she loved having guests to entertain and her makeshift family all together.

  After a few songs, she caught sight of a silhouette at the edge of the fire’s glow. A slim, petite shadow with her shoulders hunched against the night’s chill, too far from the warmth of the fire.

  Amy had stayed outside after all.

  Callie figured she was used to being the outsider, and was just about to wave at the girl, to urge her back into the circle, when Tucker beat her to it, motioning Amy over, squishing into Marge and Lou to make room for her.

  Amy shook her head.

  Tucker tried again, adding a sweet, charismatic smile that made Callie blink because for a moment he looked so much like his older brother Jake she couldn’t believe it. A woman would have to have ice in her veins not to respond to that smile, but Amy remained where she was.

  Callie understood perfectly. With the exception of kissing Jake today, she herself had resisted all wily masculine smiles for a good long time, and with good reason. She’d followed her heart down the wrong path before, and didn’t intend to do it again.

  But Amy was too young to have learned such a thing.

  “The day redeemed itself nicely,” said an unbearably familiar masculine voice.

  Jake. Wearing soft, worn jeans and a dark shirt, he came up next to her. He had a plate in his hands, filled with the largest s’more she’d ever seen—melting marshmallow on melting chocolate, squishing out of the sides of the graham cracker, designed to make one’s mouth water on sight.

  So did the smile he wore.

  All on a dark, starry night in front of a bonfire, which was almost too much to resist. She kept her gaze on the crowd around the fire. “The day did redeem itself.”

  He offered up his dessert but she shook her head.

  “Sure?” His eyes were sparkling with good humor, mischief…and much more. “How can you resist?” He lifted the plate to his nose, sniffing appreciatively. “Warm, soft chocolate, toasted marshmallows all gooey in the center, sandwiched between—”

  Her stomach growled, and given how his grin widened, he’d heard it. “Fine, damn it, hand it over.” Leaning in, she took a big bite, barely managing not to moan as the chocolate and marshmallow liquefied in her mouth.

  “Isn’t that just about the best thing you’ve tasted all day?” he murmured.

  No, he’d been the best thing she’d tasted all day. She set the s’more down on his plate.

  “You have…” He reached out with a finger toward her face.

  She slapped his finger away. “I’m not going to fall for that.”

  “Okaaaaay, if you want to walk around with…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, just a little chocolate—”

  She swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.

  But he just laughed softly, and with a shake of his head, lifted his hand again. His finger hovered right near the corner of her mouth. “May I?” he asked softly.

  Her tummy fluttered. She ignored it. “Just do it.”

  “Tsk-tsk.” The pad of his thumb glided over her lower lip. “So impatient.”

  Definitely, but she was far more concerned with why her nipples had suddenly gone so happy. “I’m too tired for this.”

  “For what?”

  “For…you.” Tired, and off-kilter, too, from him watching her with that smile that suggested a sensual earthiness, and from the knowledge he could drive her crazy with one touch. “I’m outta here.” But the words weren’t out of her mouth before she caught sight of Keito running wild around the campfire. Since his father didn’t seem inclined to stop him, she moved forward and stepped into Keito’s wild path, catching him. “Hey, little guy.”

  Laughing, he wriggled free. “I am running,” he said in the English none of his group had mastered. “See me run…”

  And off he went again.

  She caught him on his next round, wincing at the pain in her bruised ribs as she hoisted him up. “Running around the fire is dangerous, Keito. You could get hurt.”

  “No hurt. More run.”

  From her back pocket, her cell phone rang. Setting Keito down, she held on to his hand as she reached for her phone. Michael. “Hi,” she said. “I’ve got to call you back—”

  “You don’t have everyone off to
bed yet?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s their first night here. They’re still all around the campfire, singing songs and eating s’mores.” She smiled at Keito, who smiled back.

  “Run,” the little boy said, tugging on her hand.

  “You’ve got a crew,” Michael reminded her. “A good one. Say good-night and come meet me for a drink. I’m buying.”

  This was not an unusual request. Michael routinely coaxed her off the ranch and into Three Rocks for some fun. He said she worked too hard, she never gave herself any time off, whatever he could come up with to get his way. Often, she went, and never regretted it. He was easy to be with, and made her laugh. But she was so tired tonight. “I’m exhausted.”

  “Because you give that place too much of yourself. Come give it to me instead. Come on, I’ll spoil you rotten. Dinner, dessert…” He paused, knowing she never could resist the promise of dessert. “And whatever else floats your boat. Just name it.”

  “Bed.”

  He laughed, his voice a little husky now. “Done.”

  “I meant my bed. Alone,” she said, laughing, because he was just teasing. He’d never made a real move on her, not once.

  “Come on, Cal. That place is sucking the soul right out of you.” Suddenly he was no longer kidding. “You never give yourself a life.”

  She’d been planning on telling him what had happened earlier with Sierra and the missing serum, but doing so would only prolong the conversation she suddenly didn’t want to have with him, not now. “This place is my life,” she said gently. “And today has been a long day.”

  “Yadda, yadda.” But there was a fond smile in his voice again. “Fine. I’m going to try again for tomorrow night.”

  “We’re doing a roundup.”

  “The weekend then,” he said firmly.

  “The weekend,” she promised, and slipped the phone back into her pocket.

  Keito was gone. Whipping around she searched the fire. No little boy. And no one seemed to realize he was gone. They were all laughing and toasting themselves, probably planning their adventures for the next week.

  Tucker looked up and caught her obvious panic. “What?” he mouthed across the fire.

  “Keito,” she mouthed back, and Tucker craned his neck, looking around him. Then pointed behind Callie.

  She turned around and came face to face with Jake. She tried to go around him but he blocked her way. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve got to—” She tried to go around him again, but he didn’t move.

  With her teeth gritted, she looked at him. “Can I help you?”

  “Wow, that’s impressive,” he said. “That tone you use. Cool, icy, yet utterly professional. As if I was a guest here.”

  “You are.”

  “Really?” He leaned in. “You kiss all your guests the way you kissed me today?”

  “Look, I’ve got to—”

  “Find Keito?” He turned around and showed her the small four-year-old cuddled on his back, off center a little, clinging to Jake’s left side. “Got him.”

  Keito lifted his head from where he’d had it tucked against Jake’s broad back and giggled.

  Callie let out a breath and pulled him off Jake. The moment she put Keito down, he took off running again, but Eddie stood up from his perch near the fire and nabbed him, nodding to Callie. He’d take care of him.

  Grateful, she let out a breath and combed her fingers through her hair as she turned back to Jake. “Thanks,” she said, and knew by his grin she could have sounded more genuine.

  “Bet that cost you,” he said.

  “I can’t help it, you have this habit of trying to sweep in to save the day.”

  “Trying? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’d be squished like a grape if I hadn’t hauled you out of that horse pen this morning.”

  “Stall,” she corrected. “Horse stall.”

  “And me finding Keito just now saved you some trouble.”

  “Fine, you’ve saved me twice. Thank you. Thank you.”

  “The dog.”

  “What?”

  He was still smiling, looking quite sure of himself, and quite kissable, damn him. “I also saved you from the dog,” he reminded her.

  She blew out a breath. “Thank you three times then.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “You really miss work, don’t you?”

  His face closed. “This isn’t about me.”

  “You know what? Bed.” She was way overdue for bed.

  “An invitation?”

  “In your dreams.”

  “How about a hot tub trip instead?” he purred, a warm smile accompanying it, one that had a rather melting affect on her bones. “Both our sore bodies need it, want it.”

  No. What her body needed and wanted were two very different things.

  She needed rest.

  She wanted him.

  6

  Under the glow of the three-quarter moon and more stars than he’d ever seen in San Diego, Jake knew Callie was going to shake her head even before she did.

  “No hot tub,” she said.

  That didn’t surprise him, but what did was the pang of regret. He’d watched Callie and the others kick into gear after the guests had arrived, effortlessly offering hospitality and service as a unit. A tight unit.

  As for himself, he’d attempted to help. Attempted being the key word. Tucker had given him a list of stuff to do, which had included saddling up a few horses. Jake managed to feed and water the pigs—ruining his running shoes with muck that didn’t bear too close inspection. He’d not been able to get a saddle on a horse. Hell, he couldn’t have lifted his own arm above his head much less a saddle. The only reason he’d been able to hold Keito for that brief moment had been because the kid was light, and had happily crawled up Jake himself, holding mostly to his good side.

  In any case, Jake had not been successful moving the few cows from one pasture to another for Tucker, but he had a feeling his brother hadn’t expected him to. He’d just watched as if Jake was the biggest disappointment on earth.

  Jake had made the mistake of letting that get to him, enough so that he’d actually tried to get on a horse. Eddie had helped him. Sitting hadn’t been a problem. Even walking hadn’t been a problem. But when he’d dropped the reins, startling the big animal into a trot, it had jarred his shoulder enough that he’d nearly slid off into one miserable, whimpering heap on the ground.

  Humiliating. But then again, he suspected Tucker had enjoyed that, too. Everything about being here seemed so foreign. There was just so much damn open space, all surrounded by rocky ridges, lined with overgrown brush, and miles and miles of wide horizon. No Thai food. No twenty-screen movie theater complex. No traffic unless he counted the occasional lost cow blocking the driveway.

  It’d only been two days, and he was going to lose his mind, never mind what three months would do. Coming here to recoup had been the stupidest idea he’d ever had, and he was exceptionally bad off if baiting this beautiful, prickly woman in front of him had become the only entertainment available. “You afraid of a little hot tub adventure?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “Except opening up to me.”

  “Is this a story about the pot and the kettle, Jake?”

  He sighed, and ran a finger over the black smudge of exhaustion beneath her eyes. “I watched you work your pretty ass off today. It’s late, and you’re probably aching. All I’m saying is that you deserve a little break.”

  “Not with you.”

  He toed the dirt at his feet. It rose up and choked him. Shit, there was a lot of dirt out here. Beyond the fire, where everyone was still gathered, having a great time, the dark night settled over him like a smothering cloak. “So who’s Michael?”

  “A close friend.”

  “Ah.”

  “What does that mean, “ah”?”

  “Women never use ‘close friend’ as a description for a guy they want.”

&
nbsp; “And does it matter to you one way or another?”

  “Definitely,” he said. He stood close enough to see the pulse flutter at the base of her neck. “Since you and I, whatever we are, includes a hell of a lot of wanting.”

  “That whole kissing episode today was a mistake, Jake.”

  “Maybe we should repeat it, just to make sure.” He laughed at the expression of annoyance on her face. “Okay, fine. You’re a workaholic who doesn’t need much wild fun. I get it.”

  “I’ve done wild.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I have.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I was once introduced to a perfect stranger in a bar, eloped with him that same night, and then left him a month later. Wild enough?”

  He took her left hand in his, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her ringless ring finger.

  She yanked her hand back. “It turns out, he wasn’t husband material.”

  His eyes cut to hers, wondering at all she wasn’t saying. “Had a rough time of it, did you?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Well how about this…you try fun and wild again, this time without tying yourself down.”

  “A particular talent of yours?”

  “You know it.” He smiled coaxingly, because he was dying out here, and desperately, shockingly lonely. “Look, I don’t know why we’re arguing. We want the same thing, really.”

  “Really? And what’s that?”

  “What anyone wants.” He lifted his hand and tucked a stray strand of fiery hair behind her ear, just for the excuse of touching her. “Happiness. Contentment.”

  “Well, I have them. I have it all.” She stared at him for another moment, as if wanting to make sure he believed it, before walking away.

  He let out a long breath. Alone again. “Must be nice to think you have it all.”

  The next day started early for Callie. Besides the unsettling fact that no one knew where the serum had gone or who’d messed with Sierra, it turned out that their guests had misunderstood their forms. They were not experienced riders, but beginners. In fact, most of them had never ridden horses before. That wasn’t a big problem, but it did mean an adjustment of the plans.