When his gaze lowered again, he noticed that she wasn’t wearing her boots. White socks covered her feet and he found himself wondering what they would look like bare. Did she paint her toenails?
Enough, he thought, really irritated with himself. Coffee, breakfast and a long day of work in that order were what he needed to get his mind back on business and off one pretty lady rancher.
“Morning,” he said.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Great.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
He’d slept like a rock when he’d finally fallen sleep. He couldn’t fault the room or the bed for the amount of time he’d tossed and turned. But the B&B proprietress was another story. Thoughts of Taylor had kept him awake for a long time.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“I’d be in your debt forever,” he answered fervently.
She poured him a cup and brought it to where he stood outside her U-shaped work area. She put cream, sugar and artificial sweetener on the counter, then a spoon for stirring.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
His gaze automatically went to her mouth. Definitely hungry. But not for food.
He forced the thought from his mind. “Yeah,” he said out loud. “I think I could eat a horse.”
“Sorry. That’s not on the Circle S menu. You’re going to have to settle for eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy, home fried potatoes, sweet rolls, fruit and juice.”
“Jeez, a guy could starve around here.”
“I know,” she teased back. “That’s what comes of just having girls around the place. Everyone but my father was on a diet at one time or another.”
“Really?”
“No,” she said, lifting a lid to a pot on the stove to check the contents. “Diet is a four-letter word. Ranch work keeps me busy and active. It’s better than one of those designer fitness facilities and a lot more fun.”
“And very effective.” As soon as the words were out, he wanted them back like a no-point ride. But it was almost impossible to look at her curves and not want to explore every last one.
Holding a spatula, she glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned. “Did you just pay me a compliment?”
“Nope.”
“I didn’t think so.” She turned back to what she was doing, pouring this and that into a pot and whipping it up.
Mitch looked around the kitchen and out the glass door to the patio with a slatted covering over it and the pool beyond. It brought back memories of that night ten years ago when she’d kissed him and said she loved him. He couldn’t help wondering how she felt about him now. More specifically, what would happen if he kissed a grown-up, filled-out Taylor Stevens?
Trouble, that’s what. And he’d had enough for a lifetime. Starting with his mother walking out. Taylor was a class act. Now that she wasn’t a kid, he doubted she’d be interested in a guy like him. No matter how much time had passed.
Mouthwatering smells made his stomach growl and he could hardly wait to eat. He sipped his coffee and a feeling of contentment slipped over him. There was only one other time in his life when he’d felt anything even close.
It was that small window of time when he’d thought Jen had been his. But there was more and he couldn’t quite grasp the memories lurking in the shadows. Jen was the girl of every guy’s dreams. He’d always had to be on his toes when they were together. Then he got it, as if the “aha” light went on in his brain. Talking to Taylor had been different, relaxing. He’d always felt better after their conversations. Little sister was safe. If she laughed at him what did he care? She was just a kid.
At that moment, she turned to the side and lifted her arms, reaching up into the cupboard. Her cotton blouse pulled tightly across her breasts, clearly outlining the full softness. He gripped his coffee cup so tight his knuckles turned white, then he swallowed against the dry tightness in his throat.
Little sister was a big girl now. No way was she safe. If he had half the brains God gave a gnat, he would remember that. Because she’d been his friend then and seeing her again had made him realize that he’d missed that friendship. He didn’t want to jeopardize it.
And crossing over the line to some man/woman attraction complication could jeopardize the good thing they had going again. He’d messed it up once; he didn’t make the same mistake twice.
“We’re ready to eat,” she said.
“Good. I’m about to keel over.” And not from hunger.
“You go sit in the dining room,” she instructed.
“What can I do to help? I can carry something in.”
She shook her head. “You’re my guinea pig. I plan to treat you like a paying customer, so you have to act like one.”
“But, Taylor—”
“I insist,” she said, passing him with a covered casserole in her hands. She disappeared into the dining room, but her voice drifted back.
“I need your endorsement, but I don’t want what I haven’t earned. And it has to be honest and fair. Besides, now is the time to work the bugs out, before I have guests.” She returned to the kitchen and looked up at him. “You’re my first.”
I wish.
The thought popped into his head before he could stop it. Of course she’d meant her first guest. But he’d gone straight to boyfriend. Main squeeze. Lover.
Her first? Had there been someone else for her? Of course. What was he thinking? She was a knockout. Guys probably lined up for miles. Dev Hart for instance. The two of them had everything in common. And neither would have to walk down Main Street Destiny with a bag over their head. But the thought rankled. It tore through him leaving a path of anger in its wake.
“Please sit down. I’m tired of walking around you. And you’re too big not to get underfoot.”
Her tone reeked of teasing, the way she might treat a big brother. Everything in him rebelled at the thought. She brushed by him again on another trip from the kitchen. This time she carried a cloth-covered basket with out-of-this-world aromas coming from it.
But it wasn’t enough to cancel out her subtle, sexy scent. She smelled like a Texas prairie filled with spring wildflowers. He couldn’t help remembering all those lotion bottles in the bathroom with the word “body” on them. His body suddenly went hot and hard.
Seemed a good time to do what the bossy lady had said. He walked into the dining room and sat, then reached for the napkin and put it in his lap. “Do you plan to order the paying customers around like that?” he asked.
She set steaming dishes of potatoes and eggs laced with onion, green pepper and pimento on the table. “My current plan is to be a gracious hostess and treat my guests as I would like to be treated. But, yes, I would tell them as diplomatically as possible that if they want to eat, it happens faster if you don’t fence in the cook. This is a home as well as a business and I want them to experience my way of life.”
He took the bowl of scrambled eggs she held out. “It’s nice. Your way of life is a good one.”
Her gaze never left his face and questions swirled in her eyes. “Why are you like a tumbleweed in the Texas wind?”
He grinned. “The way you say it makes me sound like a legend in my own time. Or the pitiful subject of a country and western song.”
“I didn’t mean to,” she said, her mouth turning up at the corners. “But I’m serious. Why didn’t you ever put down roots, Mitch? Was it because of what happened with Jen?”
“I can’t deny that probably didn’t help. But I got a booster, in case I forgot.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was engaged once, while I was still on the circuit.”
She held a spoonful of potatoes in midair, a shocked expression on her face. “I didn’t know.”
“You mean there was something that didn’t make the tabloids?”
“I can’t say. Only that I never heard.”
“Just as well. The rest of the sordid details were in every magaz
ine and gossip column.”
“What happened?”
“It turned out that she was sleeping with the All Around Cowboy.”
“Makes you wonder which three events he scored highest in,” she commented.
“Rodeo events,” he clarified. When Taylor’s cheeks pinkened slightly, he knew she got his drift. “But Barbara Kiley, the girl I came this close to making the little woman, gave All Around Cowboy a whole new meaning.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It was after I hurt my leg and decided to give up the rodeo,” he finished.
“Oh, Mitch—”
“It’s okay. My name was in the record books. I got promotional gigs. But she wanted to be in the spotlight. To be on the arm of the guy currently getting the publicity. I wasn’t that guy anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“It was a long time ago. Besides, that wasn’t the first time I came in number two. It’s no big deal.”
Memories of that initial year on the rodeo circuit washed over him. Watching Jen and Zach together. Knowing what the guy had done, the mess he’d left behind in Destiny. Knowing Zach wasn’t good enough for Jen and not being able to say anything. She wouldn’t have believed him.
So he’d tried to ignore them. Tried to forget the ache in his gut. He’d done his best to concentrate on his sport and beat Zach Adams in every event where they squared off. Success was the best revenge. And Mitch won overall money. But he never got to be number one—not till Zach was killed. Now he would never know if he was better.
“Wandering isn’t a solution, Mitch. There isn’t anywhere on earth safe from emotional baggage.”
“You’re right. So I’ve chosen not to participate. I’d rather channel my energy into other things. Like business.”
“I know what you mean. You’re not the only one who’s had a broken heart twice.”
“Twice?” he asked.
She nodded. “I was engaged, too. About eighteen months ago.”
He was unprepared for the instant and powerful assault of jealousy. The question on the tip of his tongue was whether or not she wanted him to make the guy sorry for treating her that way. But what he asked was, “You said twice. There was someone else?”
Her gaze lowered and she pushed her eggs around her plate with her fork. “That’s not important.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just never you mind.”
“Did you catch your fiancé cheating on you?”
“Not exactly.” She sighed and put her fork down, then wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “When we met, he told me right up front that he was getting over someone else.”
“Give the guy a brownie point,” he said sarcastically.
“He never lied to me, Mitch. He was honest and straightforward. So when he said he loved me and wanted to marry me, I believed him.”
“What happened?”
“His old girlfriend decided she wanted him back.”
“And he went?”
She nodded. “He said he hadn’t stopped caring about her and it wouldn’t be fair to me.” The sunny look she’d worn since he’d first seen her this morning disappeared.
“Low-life jerk.” he said.
Mitch wanted the guy responsible for hurting her to pay. Five minutes alone, no questions asked. He wanted to take him apart. Isn’t that what an honorary big brother did? That’s the part he was here to play. He let out a long breath. It was a tough assignment and more involved than he’d realized. A reminder that her father had been right—he wasn’t good enough. A big clue that a guy like him, who didn’t know the first thing about being part of a family, was wrong for her. And the worst part—he knew his anger, not to mention the thoughts he’d had since waking up, weren’t in the least brotherly.
“It hurt at the time, but I’m over him now,” she said, a little too brightly.
“You don’t have to pretend with me.”
“I’m not. I don’t say anything I don’t mean.” She picked at a half-eaten biscuit. “Destiny is still a good place to settle,” she said quietly, then met his gaze.
“Maybe from where you’re sitting. It never felt all that good to me.”
But he looked at her. She was sitting at a right angle to him, close enough that he could reach out and cover her hand with his. He found he liked talking to her. He must. He didn’t just blurt out the unfortunate fact of his engagement to just anyone. What would it be like to share breakfast with her every morning? To come home at night to a woman like Taylor? Have her kiss him hello and talk about his day with her and listen while she told the events of hers. And children.
Whoa. There must be something in the air or water in Destiny. He wasn’t given to flights of fancy like this. At least not in a long time. Not about hearth, home, having someone. He wasn’t the solid, steady, stable type. He was like a tumbleweed and he came by it naturally. It was in the genes and biology was tough to overcome.
He continued to eat in silence, putting away a fair amount of the food she’d cooked. Finally he put his fork down. “I’m stuffed. That was great. The best meal I’ve had in a long time.”
“Really?”
“You’re not the only one who says what you mean, Taylor. I can’t remember when I’ve tasted better.”
“Good,” she said, smiling shyly at his compliment.
“Now I need to get to work.” He stood up.
“My office is in the front of the house. You’re welcome to use it,” she offered. “That’s where technology central is located. I expect you’ll need the squawk box and all the rest of the electronic gizmos.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite work and he wondered why.
He nodded. “Thanks. If you don’t see the whites of my eyes by suppertime, take a peek to see if I’m still breathing.”
“No problem.”
Later that day, Taylor was still in the funk that had started when Mitch had told her about his engagement. She couldn’t shake the black mood and she’d finally figured out why.
“I feel more alive than I have in ten years and it’s all because of him,” she muttered to herself.
She jammed the pitchfork into the hay, then brushed her forearm across her sweaty brow. She remembered Mitch talking about being number two. “He feels like number one to me,” she said to herself, letting out a long breath.
“He’s been burned twice. Surely he won’t want to try again. To go for number three, he’d have to be dumb as a wagonload of rocks. They say third time’s the charm, but he’s not the trusting sort.”
Did she even want to be his number three?
She’d been burned twice, too, and he’d been the first. She kicked at the hay with the toe of her boot. “I’d have to be an idiot.”
“Who’s an idiot?”
She whirled around and saw a man silhouetted in the barn doorway. If the deep, sexy voice wasn’t enough of a clue, she would know those broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs anywhere. “Mitch, you startled me.”
“And you’re scaring me. Standing here talking to yourself.” He walked the length of the barn and stood just outside the stall where she was working.
“Occupational hazard,” she mumbled, her heart pounding. The devil of it was, the hammering wasn’t because he’d surprised her. It was just that he was there dressed in jeans, with his long-sleeved shirt rolled to just below the elbows.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t often have anyone else around to talk to. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s always an intelligent conversation.”
Unless, of course, she was wasting her own time, talking to herself about Mitch Rafferty.
“Speaking of occupational hazards, I saw some of the bulls you’re keeping for Dev.”
“How? Did they crash the computer room to access the Internet?”
He grinned. “I was looking for you. Ran into Jim Foster down in the pasture. He told me you were up here.”<
br />
“Did Jim remember you?”
He nodded. “I can’t believe he’s still here. He was foreman ten years ago.”
“He worked for my dad as far back as I can remember. He’s like family. I don’t know what I’d do without him. In fact, now he sees to most of the day-to-day running of the ranch. Did you meet Cal White?”
The teenager she’d hired reminded her of Mitch. He had the same intensity and ambition to succeed. One big difference was that he had supportive parents.
“Nice kid,” he said nodding. “The two of them were checking out the bulls.”
“So what does that have to do with me and occupational hazards?”
He leaned one broad shoulder against the stall doorway. “I’m glad it wasn’t you working with animals big enough to crush you like a dried leaf.” The teasing note disappeared from his voice. He looked dead serious.
Was he worried? About her? The first thought that popped into her head was that she didn’t know what to do with what he’d just said. Her second, she wasn’t thinking at all, simply feeling a lovely, warm glow in the pit of her stomach. Followed quickly by annoyance when his comment sank in. He was treating her like a little girl.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” she snapped. “Believe it or not, I’ve done ten years’ worth of growing up while you’ve been gone.”
“I can see that.”
“Get used to it. I’m a grown woman, Mitch.”
“I know,” he answered, mumbling something that sounded like, “believe me.”
“I know what I’m doing. Dad taught me everything he knew and Jim took over where he left off. I wish you’d start taking me seriously—”
“Down, girl. At ease,” he said, holding his palms out in surrender. “I get the point.”
“I’m not so sure. You’re acting like my big brother. And I don’t need one. I can take care of myself.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked.
“You.” She walked out of the stall with the pitchfork in her hand.
He nodded at the sharp prongs. “Do you plan to use that on me?”
“If I have to.” But she couldn’t prevent it when her mouth turned up at the corners. She’d run out of steam and couldn’t resist his teasing. Lord knew she wished she could.
Crazy for Lovin’ You Page 7