"Not good." He slipped an arm casually around her back as they walked toward the house. "Let's do something about your nutrition."
"We'll make some coffee and a salad to go with the chicken," she said eagerly, forgetting for the moment about her hidden charges.
But Brett wouldn't let her forget completely. "How's your worker?"
"Huh?"
"The one you took to the doctor today. The sick one."
"Oh, yes, she's fine. Well, I mean, she'll be okay soon."
"Is she able to work?"
Annie felt like laughing. Oh, how she wished! "She, uh, she expects to be back to work very soon." Annie figured that explanation was probably near the truth.
"Good. Theresa's a darn good doctor." He reached for the door and held it open for her.
Annie slipped past him, catching a whiff of his masculine scent in the process. Being with Brett was a pleasant, no... a sensuous experience. With his exciting and dangerous past, chasing criminals and getting shot, he was even more intriguing to her.
Yet, the man she'd come to know in the past couple of days had the appealing attributes of being strong and steady. Plus, in his neat, stylish clothes, he was magnificent. Annie couldn't help but like him. Flipping the kitchen light on, she reminded herself that Brett Meyer wouldn't be here long. So, she'd better cool her emotions.
The kitchen was just as she'd left it this morning, including cold, stale coffee in the pot. She hadn't done anything all day except take care of those women. It irked her to think that they and their problems had dominated her time. And yet she felt compelled to help. Trying to forget them, Annie grabbed the coffeepot. "I guess I'll start here."
Brett reached around her, covering her hands with his. "I can do this part. Coffee's my specialty. Lots of practice over the years."
Annie smiled over her shoulder, enjoying the closeness. "Okay, I'll make a salad." She moved reluctantly out of the circle of his arms. What was happening here was a silent seduction, and she had better be aware of her own weakness in the presence of this man. He was extremely attractive in many ways. And she was vulnerable.
Still feeling the tingling sensations from his touch, Annie's fingers shook slightly as she tore the lettuce, which she blamed on the fact that she hadn't eaten all day. But to be honest, she had to admit that one look from Brett could start her heart pounding. And his touch enlivened every cell in her being.
She chopped fresh mushrooms and credited her reactions to those of a lonely love-starved woman. Brett was, indeed, an intriguing, alluring man. And she had to ignore her immature response to his obvious assets.
Working quickly, Annie made rice, a large pan full, thinking about the women needing food. Then she popped a bowl of frozen green peas in the microwave oven.
"You must be very hungry," Brett commented dryly. The coffee started sputtering through the drip system, and he leaned his hips on the counter and watched her.
"Oh, I am. But this isn't all for me. I'm, uh, going to feed Diego and the workers tonight."
"Do you always cook for them?"
"Well, sure, if they work here."
"Right." His dark eyes assessed her. "Anything else I can do?"
She handed him plates and flatware. "Set the table."
They worked together to put the food on the table. Annie loaded a tray with heaping bowls of everything and set it out on the back porch, as she'd promised Diego. Finally she sat down opposite Brett, gazed at the spread and sighed. "This looks great. Thanks for bringing the barbeque, Brett."
"My pleasure entirely. I didn't know I was feeding your workers or I would have brought more."
"No, no, this is fine," she said quickly. As they began to eat, she attempted casual conversation, but with an underlying motive. "So, how are your friends, Tate and Dr. Theresa?" Maybe he'd give her a clue about whether Dr. Theresa had reported Annie's patient. Now was the time for her to find out, before this went any further.
"Busier than ever. They admitted to an increased influx of 'foreign travelers,' as they call them. And it's a big concern." Brett hesitated before adding with a wry smile, "Most are in poor health by the time they make it here. But she wouldn't inform on anyone, if that's what you're wondering. And I wouldn't ask her to. It's a breach of our friendship. Same goes for you."
Annie flushed. She knew how his friends must feel with Brett—torn between the legal position that he stood for and the moral dilemma they felt in their hearts. "I don't – "
He interrupted her with one hand up. "Look, I'm not asking you about your worker who's ill. And I don't want you to tell me anything."
She squared her shoulders. "The whole problem of illegal workers is a big concern for us all. I suppose life must be quite difficult for families south of the border."
"We aren't responsible for other countries' turmoil." He dropped a pat of butter into the middle of the rice. "We are only responsible for ours."
Annie thought that his comment epitomized the man. Tough as nails. No sympathy. No leniency. How could she get along with a man like that? "What about the people? Individuals who are struggling?"
"I, personally, feel for them. But we have laws in this country that I've sworn to uphold."
Annie looked at him curiously. "But the laws don't take into account individual circumstances. They don't have a heart." She certainly didn't want to have an argument with him over this. Basically she agreed with him. Still, she felt defensive of her actions.
"The laws are for the majority," he said as if that settled everything in his mind. He failed to notice, or failed to acknowledge, her discomfort. "What impressed me most was what Tate and Theresa said was happening to Silver Creek."
"And what's that?" She paused, her fork mid-way to her mouth. What sensitive subject would he touch on next?
"It's growing," he said with a boyish smile and a palms-up gesture with both hands. "The town's developing. New jobs are coming into town. Things are happening around here."
"You seem surprised." She was relieved with the turn of the conversation. This was a subject dear to her heart.
"I'm amazed. I figured this old town would fold, like so many of the others, when the copper mine closed. At one time, Tate and Theresa had even talked about moving to Colorado. I thought my dad was a figurehead sheriff. But he's actually doing something vital every day. He has a large, busy core of officers who are dealing with some serious problems around here."
"I don't know much about crime in this county," she admitted. "But I do know that we seldom see J.M. out here anymore. And everybody thinks he's doing a great job."
"He persuaded me to come home by saying he needed me." Brett took a few bites of his salad. "I figured he meant on the ranch, especially when I saw what a mess it was."
"He hasn't done one thing out there since your mother died, Brett. He seems to have lost any interest in it."
"The old place looks pretty bad. And I think that, deep down; my dad would like to see it become a working ranch again. But that's not the real reason he wanted me here."
Annie smiled sweetly. "Are you going to tell me he's just a softhearted father who wants his only son to get well and not to risk his life again?"
"Softhearted? That's a laugh!" Brett scratched his chin with his thumb and grinned sheepishly. "Naw, he has other ideas for me."
"Oh?" She wiped her hands on the napkin and dabbed her mouth. When he didn't continue right away, she looked up at him, eyebrows raised, questioning.
"He wants to hire me as a special investigator, sort of a consultant on certain difficult crimes that the department has from time to time."
Annie fingered her napkin in her lap. "Like the increased numbers of illegal migrants?"
He shrugged. "That's probably one of the first things he wants me to investigate."
"Are you... going to do it?"
"Yes, I think I will. It means I'll be around for a while longer than I planned."
"Oh, good." Annie smiled weakly, her expression belying
her words. Her emotions were split, too.
From the beginning, she'd wanted Brett to find their small town atmosphere appealing enough to stick around for a while. Now that he was staying, he'd probably end up investigating her. Unless she could avoid him altogether. She watched him for a minute and figured that was next to impossible.
CHAPTER FIVE
Brett observed her reaction to his comments. He liked to think body language was one of his specialties. He could usually tell when someone was lying, or hiding something. He could tell when someone was defensive. Or scared. He saw all that in Annie's mixture of signals. Her eyes widened and flickers of light appeared in their chocolate depths, indicating some interest or curiosity in what he was saying. Contrarily, her lips, pink and luscious and oh-so-inviting, quivered ever so slightly, showing some hesitation. Was she lying to him? Or hiding something he should know?
He decided to test her. "Good? That sounds sufficiently noncommittal." He put his hand on the table, nearby, as if to touch hers. "I was hoping for more interest in my hanging around."
"I'm surprised, that's all."
Brett tried to discern the real message in her eyes, but right now could only verify their deep beauty. He noticed that suddenly her breathing seemed uneven and sort of jerky. She fiddled with her fork, a sure sign of nervousness.
He caught himself. What the hell was he doing, evaluating her like this? What next? A notebook of details, describing her physical reactions? A report to the sheriff? This was no interview of a suspect. This was Annie... Annie, the woman he couldn't get out of his mind since he walked onto her property a few days ago.
In spite of the obvious benefits of being able to detect and possibly interpret certain body language, Brett actually hated this skill he used in his job. He found it impossible not to transfer the knowledge to personal relationships. He wished that he could just let nature take its course.
Unfortunately, Brett couldn't do that anymore. He had seen too much, been too far. He liked to be in charge, of actions and emotions. Especially his. With Annie, for instance, he found it difficult to just sit back and enjoy her. He was too impatient for that. He wanted more of her, and he wanted her now.
Although Brett kept his responses light, he knew that his decision to stay in Silver Creek was a serious one. "I want to see you share my enthusiasm, something to match mine."
"You're eager to stay?" She angled her head to the side and wrinkled her nose. "That's a switch. I thought you couldn't wait to leave this boring little place."
"A change of heart, you might say." Brett wondered if his revelation was really startling as she seemed to indicate.
Annie took a sip of her coffee and licked her lips slowly. "I suppose that means you don't find us so dull and boring anymore?"
He laughed aloud. So that was it? She was still stinging from his initial reaction to coming home. Perhaps he had been rude. "That was arrogant of me," he said with an apologetic shake of his head. "Sorry if I offended you. To be honest, I haven't had time to get bored yet, because I've been too damn busy. There's a lot going on around here. I don't know how J. M. figured being here would give me a chance to recuperate."
"I'm sure it's a slower pace than you're used to," she offered. "Sometimes a change works to heal the body as well as the spirit."
"Are you saying my spirit needs doctoring?"
"Not necessarily, Brett. But you have been through a lot. You probably just need a rest."
He pursed his lips. "I envisioned hours of non-activity on a lounge chair in the sun, catching up on a few dozen paperback spy thrillers, maybe taking a little side trip or two. With my next door neighbor."
"When did you add that last part to your vision?"
"When I laid eyes on you." He sighed. "I realize now that's impossibility. There's too much work to do around here for you. And—" he paused to finish his coffee in a single gulp "—for me. A few days ago I couldn't see that. But a few days ago, I couldn't see a lot of things."
"Like the hard labor that has to be done on an apple farm or—" she paused to check his reaction "—or what needs to be done on a run-down cattle ranch to bring it back to profit?" She rose and began clearing their plates. "If that's even remotely what you plan to do."
After a moment he followed her to the sink, carrying both their coffee cups. "I'm considering what to do with the ranch. Remotely, that is. Probably not with cattle, which was never very profitable anyway."
Annie bent to open the dishwasher and began stacking plates inside. She knew the possibility of him hanging around for long, much less fixing up the old Rocking M Ranch was slim. "Don't make any promises for my benefit, Brett." She turned around, not realizing he was standing so close. "You haven't even been here a week yet. Maybe you've forgotten what this type of work is like." She took the cups from him and placed them in the dishwasher. "How hard it is."
"I'll admit, though, that I had forgotten some of the country pleasures, too. That full moon. . . bigger and brighter than anywhere else."
She chuckled. "You're going to say that I'm the best pleasure around here, right?"
He snapped his fingers. "Got me!"
"Hey, I may look like a country bumpkin, but I've been around a little," she boasted.
"I'm sure you have." He looked at her sideways.
She countered, but he wasn't listening. He was watching her—fascinated.
She faced him with such a lovely innocence that all he could do was think what a delight it would be to kiss her. As those dark eyes flashed at him, he experienced a tight quickening in his loins. She continued to rail at him undaunted, even as desire spiraled through him, and he became preoccupied with her mouth. He imagined the gratification of applying his lips to the burgundy curve of hers.
Annie propped her fists on her hips. He admired the firm shape of her breasts as they rose and fell beneath her sweater. My God, she certainly was distracting. But some of her words hit home.
"And if you think you're going to breeze in here for a few weeks and pretend to enjoy our peaceful little lifestyle. . . and if you think you're going to sweep me off my feet, you're—Dammit, Brett! You aren't hearing a word I'm saying!" She caught her lower lip between her teeth.
"I'm hearing," he lied. "No sweeping, I promise. Just maybe one little kiss. . ." And he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, gently at first, then with growing intensity. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Brett..." She sighed and shook her head at him.
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself."
"What a lame reason."
He grinned. "You know, Annie, for a quiet country girl, you can be quite a spitfire." He took her hands loosely in his.
"Nobody claimed I was quiet." She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly.
"I guess that was my own fantasy of the girl next door." He placed her hands on his waist. "But you are a definite spark of energy around here. Not just for me, for everyone."
"I would think you'd know that from growing up next door to me." She tried to fight the feelings that flooded her when they touched. His hands were wonderfully warm and strong as they clasped hers, and his aura seemed to embrace her.
"You were only there during summers. Anyway, I was blind to a lot of things when I was a kid. Often angry, rebellious. But now, I have a different perspective on many things. On life. On people. Even—especially—on you, Annie."
She felt jittery inside, and a nervous twitch seemed to have invaded her breathing apparatus.
"On you and me, Annie. But I need to know—" He hesitated, realizing that he was sounding presumptuous. When it came to women, though, he had never been very sophisticated. "First, do you have a man in your life right now, Annie?"
"If I said yes, would you back off?"
He scanned her face for a moment. "No way. I'd just know what kind of fight I had on my hands." His loose-gripped caress slid up her arms. It was with great effort that he restrained himself from pulling her against his aching body. "Who am I
up against?"
"No, not—"
Before she could finish, he cupped her chin in one hand and lifted it slightly. "Good. Because I'm definitely interested in the lovely apple farmer next door."
"Is that why you're staying, Brett? Because of me?"
With his other hand he circled her neck beneath the weight of her hair. "At this point, I can truthfully say that there are several reasons. One is to help J.M. I'm soft hearted enough to believe that he needs me. Another is to catch the bad guys. I'm confident enough to believe I can make a difference. And the other reason—" he moved closer "—is to kiss the beautiful girl next door."
He bent to caress her lips softly, sensuously, with his.
As Annie stood there, eyes closed, lips slightly open, she felt like a dry fountain receiving life-giving moisture. It had been a long drought, and she welcomed his male vitality and strength.
Brett felt himself drawn into her innocence, almost as if a spell were winding around them. Her lips were fantastically soft and warm. And he felt the heat radiating deep in his loins.
He lifted his head and smiled, enjoying watching her responses to his preliminary advances. "And I'm hopeful enough to believe my beautiful neighbor's enjoying it as much as I am."
Annie's eyes flew open and she became instantly alert. Her hands had been resting naturally on his chest and she pushed on the muscular wall, trying to put some distance between them. "That may be so, but sometimes physical enjoyment is short-lived."
He backed off and let her move away from him. "What's wrong, Annie? No sizzle?"
She turned around, her eyes fixed with cougar-like intensity. "I don't trust you, Brett."
"Don't trust me?" He shrugged, palms out. "Hell, I'm your neighbor, Annie. Your friend, I hope. Maybe more."
Under The Desert Moon (Desert Sky Series Book 2) Page 6