by Jennie Marts
Which probably contributed to the reason he was still single.
But Skye was different. He wanted to please her, to make her happy, to earn that grin she’d just offered him so easily.
He listened with half an ear as Skye explained the steps, then she and her ranch hand, Cal, demonstrated them, first slowly, then in time with the music. They made the steps look effortless. The older man had a surprisingly strong sense of rhythm.
Dancing had never been something Adam excelled at, mainly because, unlike Cal, rhythm was one thing he was sorely lacking.
Standing on the edge of the dance floor brought back painful memories of uncomfortable school dances when he and his friends would convince each other to go, then hang around, praying that a girl would ask them to dance and hoping they wouldn’t have to ever dance at all.
What made matters worse this afternoon was that he and the teenage girl Haylee were the only solo dancers. He knew eventually they were going to have to pair up to dance with someone. Talk about awkward.
“Now we’ll all practice. Don’t be shy. Grab a partner and circle around the middle of the dance floor,” Skye instructed.
Crap. Here it came. The moment where he wished he could blend into the wall behind him. He knew he was being ridiculous. He could stand in front of a huge group of his employees for an hour, instructing them about how to use physics in their work, but a minute and a half on the side of a dance floor and his heart was pounding like a hammer against his chest.
Because this wasn’t physics or science, where everything made sense and had a logical explanation. This was dealing with people and nerves. He could handle equations, but he didn’t know how to fix not having rhythm.
“Adam, will you help me out and be my partner?” Skye asked, crossing the dance floor and holding out her hand.
Relief flooded him, and he offered her a smile, trying to play it cool and not show how relieved he was to be asked, and to not have to partner with the thirteen-year-old. He wiped his sweaty hand on his jeans before reaching out and taking hers.
He caught his breath as Skye stepped into his arms, fitting against him like two pieces of a puzzle. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and he felt the heat of her palm through the fabric of his shirt.
Resting his hand on her waist, he resisted sliding his hand along the lush curve of her hip. She took his other hand, holding it at shoulder height, then she tilted her face up to his and offered him an encouraging grin.
“You ready?”
“To make a fool of myself?”
“You’re not going to make a fool of yourself. Most of the people here are new to this type of dancing.”
“I’m new to any type of dancing. I can’t even keep up with that stupid dance video game. Cal’s the pro. He looks like Fred Astaire, and I’m more like Fred Flintstone.”
She chuckled and gave him a flirty grin. “Maybe you’ve just never had the right partner. Dancing doesn’t have to be hard. You just have to relax and let yourself feel the music.” She slid a little closer to him, their bodies now mere millimeters apart.
He could feel something all right. But it wasn’t the music. It was the closeness of her hips swaying next to his, the press of her thigh against his, with only a faded layer of denim between them. If she kept moving like that, she was going to feel something, too.
Awesome. Nothing like a mid-afternoon boner to let a girl know how you really feel.
Baseball. Think about baseball. Or physics. Or anything besides the curvy cowgirl that slowly led him around the dance floor.
He glanced around the room, trying to run a math calculation in his head.
No one was paying any attention to them. They were all focused on their own feet and counting the steps.
It looked like Cody had lucked out, too, filling in as the dance partner for the teen girl. Adam hoped he wasn’t wearing the same goofy grin that the kid had on his face.
Although he didn’t really care if he looked stupid. Despite the threat of a meddlesome hard-on, holding Skye in his arms felt like heaven. At least for him.
It probably wasn’t so great for her, especially since he’d just stepped on her foot for about the fourth time.
He wasn’t used to wearing boots, and when he added in the effort of trying to learn the steps and keep in time with the music, he was pretty much a dancing disaster.
Thankfully Skye was a patient teacher, counting out the steps and guiding him around the floor with one hand on his shoulder and the other clasped tightly in his.
Her cinnamon-scented breath tickled his ear as she softly directed the steps. “Quick, quick, slow, slow.”
“You’re good at this,” he told her, his eyes trained on their feet.
“You’ll get the hang of it, too. It just takes practice,” she said, reaching over and tilting his chin back up to look at her. “I’m sure I couldn’t walk into your office and start doing computer stuff or whatever it is you do. But the more you do it, the better you’ll get.”
Right. He shouldn’t expect to be a pro at this, even though he was good at most everything else that he tried. Well, everything that involved using his brain.
“Computer stuff is easy. Dancing is complicated, especially with the distraction of having a beautiful woman pressed against me.”
Oh shit. What the hell had happened to his filter?
She raised an eyebrow at him, a grin tugging up the curve of her lips.
He held his breath, then let it out, his own smile curving his lips as she pressed a little closer to him, lining her hips nearer to his and pressing her breasts against his chest.
Tightening his grip on her hand, he tried to relax his shoulders, to feel the music.
But he kept getting distracted by the smell of her hair and the way her lips parted as she whispered the words, “Quick, quick, slow, slow.” He knew she was talking about their feet, but he kept imagining her whispering “slow, slow” into his ear as he nuzzled her neck or laid down next to her.
Her cheek grazed his, her voice soft as she spoke next to his ear. “Relax. You’re doing great. Bend your knees a little.” Her leg slid easily between his, her thigh pressed against his as she led him with her body.
Heat surged through his veins, and he slid his hand a little farther around her waist.
She lowered their joined hands and pressed them to his waist, guiding his hips with their hands.
Glancing down at her, his mouth went dry as she smiled up at him. Her gaze flicked to his lips. Just for a moment, but he’d caught it, and fire swirled in his belly.
Leaning in, just a little closer, he was caught up in the moment—the slow rhythm of the music, the sway of their hips as they glided across the floor, the brush of her soft hair against his arm, the temptation to press his lips to hers.
The rest of the room faded away as he leaned closer, as if pulled by an invisible string, so tempted to kiss her.
Her lips parted slightly, and he heard the quick hitch in her breath.
“Hey, Skye. Are we doing this right?” a voice called from across the room, breaking the spell.
His steps faltered as he came to his senses, remembering that they were actually in a room full of people.
Skye pulled back, glancing toward one of the couples in the class and offering them a smile of encouragement. “Yes, you’ve got it. Bend your knees, though. Stay loose.”
She looked back up at him, an impish grin covering her face. “You ready for the next step?”
He swallowed. “The next step?”
“Yep. You ready to try a turn?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m ready to try anything.” His lips curved into what he hoped was an irresistible grin.
She laughed, spinning him around, and the sound of her laughter trickled down his spine like warm oil.
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and after a few songs, he started to relax and get the hang of the steps, even attempting a dip. He was feeling pretty good—he wouldn’t go so far as to
say confident, but he was more relaxed and actually having fun.
Then Captain Cowboy sauntered into the barn.
You would have thought Sam Elliott himself had just walked in the door, the way the women in the group practically swooned over the guy.
The cowboy worked the room, grinning and complimenting the women on their steps as the song wound down.
The music stopped, and Skye dropped his hand and took a step back. The other man walked up to them, ignoring Adam, and gave Skye a broad smile. “Hey, darlin’.”
Was this guy for real?
“Hey, Clint,” Skye answered, then gestured to Adam. “This is Adam Clark, from California. He’s one of the guests here. Adam, this is Clint Carson, my neighbor and my good friend. We practically grew up together.”
Clint Carson? Seriously? The guy even had a cool cowboy name.
The man took his hand, applying a little more pressure than necessary and holding on just a beat too long.
Point taken.
“Pleased to meet ya.” He grinned at Adam, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he took just the smallest step forward, just enough to position himself between Adam and Skye. “What do you do in California, Adam?”
“Adam designs video games,” Skye answered.
Well, he did a little more than that, but he didn’t want to contradict Skye. He didn’t have anything to prove to this guy. Did he?
“That sounds fun. Wish I could play games for a living.” Clint smiled good-naturedly, but Adam still felt the smallest wave of condescension coming off of him.
He turned back to Skye, effectively dismissing Adam. “Sorry, I’m late. I had a mare that threw a shoe, and I had to wait for the farrier.”
“Oh shoot. She wasn’t hurt, was she?”
“Nah. We think she did it on the trails. They were up working by the stream, and it was pretty boggy. But she’s fine.”
What the heck were they talking about? It was like they had their own language.
Although people could probably say the same about him and Brandon and Ryan when they started talking about server architecture, batch scripts, and other programming jargon.
“Sorry I’m late, folks,” Clint said loudly, addressing the other couples in the room. “It looks like you’re doing great with the Two-Step. How about if we move on and teach you a little Country Swing?” He tipped his cowboy hat and flashed a charming smile.
The room tittered in agreement, and Skye crossed to the CD player to set up a different series of songs.
Clint offered Adam a conspiratorial wink. “Thanks for filling in, but I’ve got it from here.” He sauntered after Skye, joking around with the room as he explained the first few steps. Within minutes he had the group eating out of his hand.
Adam’s teeth ground together. Something about this guy irritated the hell out of him. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t just the familiar way he had with Skye, easily touching her shoulder and wrapping his arm around her waist to demonstrate a step.
No, it felt like something more, something just under the surface.
But obviously Skye didn’t feel that way as she laughed with him, putting on a show for the guests.
He tapped his fingers against his leg and told himself to unclench his jaw. But his teeth remained clamped together as the next song started, the beat picked up, and Clint grabbed Skye, pulling her into his arms and gliding her around the dance floor, moving easily from the Two-Step into some sort of swinging, twisting, swirling dance.
Uncrossing his arms, he tried to keep from scowling as he once again stood on the sidelines, watching the cool guy dance with the pretty girl.
They made the perfect pair, their steps in exact rhythm, their pacing fluid and familiar as they progressed through the song, as if they’d danced together a hundred times before.
And they probably had.
A hard rock formed in his chest as he watched them. Skye seemed to fit perfectly into Clint’s arms, reminding Adam that a guy like him had no chance in hell at winning this girl.
All the fantasizing he’d been doing about her had been just that—a fantasy.
He slipped out of the dance lessons and trudged toward the lodge.
…
The tape measure slid shut, and Adam jotted the measurement of the fence post in his notebook. He’d tried to stay in his room after the dance lesson fiasco, but the walls felt like they were closing in on him.
He’d purchased a small spiral notebook from the gift shop and had spent the last few hours wandering around the ranch, taking pictures and measurements of different objects as part of his research for the new game.
He tried to make things in the virtual world as close to the same dimensions as objects in the real world, and often spent hours researching just the size and shape of inanimate objects. He also took copious notes on the way that things felt and smelled and, sometimes, tasted.
He’d already spent several hours working with Cody, and the boy had shown him the mechanics of how numerous things on the ranch worked, even the easy stuff like saddles and bridles. The kid was smart and quickly picked up on the simple physics Adam explained, then directed him to the kind of things that would help with the game’s setting.
Adam had a surprisingly good time hanging out with the boy. He was clever and funny, and they got along well.
A noise from the barn drew his attention, and he looked up to see Skye and Clint run out of the barn and toward the stables. Cal and Cody followed at their heels.
“What’s going on?” he asked Skye as she rushed past him.
“Fence is down. Cattle are getting out,” she said, slowing down just long enough to tell him.
“Can I help?”
She hesitated a moment, then waved him on. “Sure, we could always use another hand.”
Adam shoved the notebook and tape measure into his pocket and hurried after her. The group ran into the stable, but instead of getting horses, they headed for the group of four-wheeled quads that lined one wall.
He stopped, not knowing quite what to do as the four of them hopped onto the four available quads.
“You can ride with me, Skye,” Clint offered. “That is, if Gamer Guy can handle a quad on his own.”
Heat burned his cheeks. He had no idea how to ride one of the four-wheelers. He was sure he could figure it out, if he had some time, but it seemed as if time were of the essence.
“He hasn’t signed a waiver, so he can just ride with me,” Skye said, gesturing for him to climb on behind her, saving him from having to admit he had no clue how to drive one of these things.
“Sure, yeah, of course,” Clint muttered, clearly not happy but not arguing against the liability issue.
Adam swung his leg over the seat, trying to leave a little room between him and Skye, just enough to be polite. But she pushed back against him, sending heat flooding through his veins as her rounded backside fit snugly against his thighs. “Hold on,” she told him as she put the quad in gear and gunned the engine. The four of them tore out of the stable.
They didn’t say anything as they rode. Adam was just trying to hold on as Skye maneuvered the quad over the rocky terrain of the hillside then through the pasture.
She raised a hand pointing to an area of downed fence line.
Forty to fifty cows were milling around the far pasture, and a lone cowboy was working to round up the farthest ones.
They all slowed as they approached the open area of fence, and Skye parked next to a fence post, then jumped off the quad. She yelled instructions to the others, circling her hands and pointing to where she wanted them to go. “We’ll stay here and fix the fence. You all go round ’em up and get those cows back here.”
Adam climbed off the quad, standing at the ready to help. “Just tell me what to do.”
She opened the tool box affixed to the back of the quad and pulled out a small roll of wire and a couple sets of gloves. She tossed a pair to Adam. “Put these on. We’re going to be working
with barbed wire, and it can rip up your hands. But we need to get that fence repaired as fast as possible so we can close it up once they get all the cattle back through.”
He nodded, pulling on the gloves as he walked toward the fence.
She worked quickly and efficiently, pulling out the length of fencing and looking for weak spots. “Check to see where the barbed wire is split or broken,” she told him. Her focus was intent on her task. “We’ve got to recover the herd. Don’t think of them as cattle that have gotten out; think of them as giant mooing bags of money that I’m liable to lose if we don’t get them all rounded back up.”
He nodded, understanding the seriousness of the job, and followed her lead, running his hands along the wire, looking for weak spots.
It didn’t take them more than fifteen minutes of working together to get the fence repaired and ready.
The other men had been herding the cattle back through the gap, and they’d gotten all but the last few.
Adam held up a section of broken fence. The portion that was down had been part of a makeshift gate. But the wood appeared to be splintered, and the barbed wire had a clean, flat edge, almost as if it had been cut.
What the hell?
Chapter Seven
“Hey, Skye, you want to take a look at this?” Adam held up the suspicious section of wire. “Is there a chance someone let these cattle out on purpose?”
Skye raised an eyebrow at him. “Why would anyone do that? We had a massive windstorm the other night, and I’m sure that’s what took this section out. I think you read too many mystery novels.” She shook her head and bent back over the fence, twisting a piece of wire tightly around and not even bothering to look at the section he was holding out to her.
He shrugged and went back to work. She knew this kind of stuff better than he did.
“That’s the last one,” Cody yelled to his mom as he herded a brown-and-white cow through the gap.
The cow didn’t seem to be in any hurry as it moseyed past Adam, who took a step back.
Cows were definitely bigger than they looked on television.
Skye waved the other men in, then lifted the repaired section of fence and dragged it closed. She finished wiring the fence shut, pulled off her gloves, and tossed the tools back into the tool box.