Summer Days

by Susan Mallery

  He drew back, his dark eyes bright with something she really hoped was lust.

  “Nice,” he murmured, then cleared his throat. He drew back. “We can sit here for a minute, right?”

  The question confused her. “Why would we… Oh.” Right. Because walking around would make a few things obvious. She risked a quick glance and saw an impressive erection making its presence known. A shiver raced through her.

  He took her hand in his and lightly kissed her palm. “If you want to leave this bench anytime soon, you need to stop looking at me like that.”

  She wanted to ask, “Like what?” but had a feeling she knew what he was talking about. She was probably looking at him as if he were the one man on earth she had to have.

  He shifted so that he was facing front, his ankle resting on his opposite knee. He draped an arm around her, drawing her close.

  “Let’s pick a more neutral topic,” he suggested. “And if you could speak in a squeaky voice, that would help, too.”

  She laughed. “What’s wrong with my regular voice?”

  “It’s sexy.”

  She cleared her throat, suddenly unable to think of anything to say. “You never did tell me about your date.”

  “And I’m not going to.”

  “Any dates planned in the future?”

  He glanced at her, his dark eyes bright with amusement. “Could we not talk about me dating?”

  “Sure. Um, the carnival is coming to town in a few weeks.”

  “Your carnival? The people who taught you to hate townies?”

  “Yes, and they didn’t teach me that. I learned on my own.”

  “Will someone show me how to tame a lion?”

  “That’s the circus. This is the rides and games.”

  “I always did like a good Tilt-A-Whirl.”

  “Then you’ll have to go on it.”

  “You coming with me?”

  She shook her head. “They make me throw up.”

  “Lightweight.”

  “Townie.”

  He laughed. He might have a thing for her voice, but she liked the sound of his laughter. It made her feel safe and happy, as did pressing against him, with his arm around her.

  All dangerous, she thought. Good thing she wasn’t the type to fall in love.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HEIDI FINISHED THE LAST of the milking, then poured the still warm, creamy liquid into pans for the waiting cats.

  “I should put a camera on the three of you,” she said, as her feline guests lapped up the milk. “One of those pet cams, so I can find out where you live.”

  Or she could simply ask around. Someone would know who owned the cats. But she liked the idea of a mystery, of being able to pretend the cats had exciting secret lives after they left here.

  She put away her stool, checked to make sure the goats had plenty of water, then picked up the buckets and walked back to the house. She entered to the smell of coffee. As she poured the raw milk from the stainless-steel bucket to the glass containers she would put in the refrigerator, she told herself it was nice that May had gotten up early and made coffee. That Rafe wouldn’t be the one waiting for her when she walked into the kitchen. Because anticipating anything about him would be very, very bad. But anticipation nearly overwhelmed her now, as spending mornings with him was often the best part of her day.

  She was finding it more and more difficult to remember that he was the enemy. Being around him was…nice. He made her laugh, and she looked forward to spending time with him. In other circumstances, she would have taken the chance and offered him her heart. But these weren’t other circumstances, and if she forgot what he wanted, she could lose everything.

  Heidi put away the milk, closed the refrigerator door and walked into the kitchen. Rafe stood leaning against the counter, his dark eyes brightening when he saw her.

  With all the hard work he put in on the ranch during the day, he usually showered before dinner rather than first thing in the morning. There was something to be said for a man who wasn’t so crisp around the edges. She liked the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, the slight muss to his hair. He wore a plaid cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and faded jeans with a tear by the front pocket.

  Somewhere along the way, he’d ceased to be the guy in the suit. Now he was just Rafe. And just Rafe was turning out to be a lot more dangerous.

  “Morning,” he said, handing her a mug of coffee.

  “Hi.”

  She saw that he’d already added cream and, she would guess, sugar, preparing it just the way she liked.

  “How are the girls?” he asked, moving toward the table.

  “Good. Happy to see me.”

  They sat across from each other, as they did most mornings. This was their quiet time together, before May and Glen were up and the work crew arrived.

  He had a few sheets of paper on the table and now nudged them toward her. “I was thinking about your cheese and soap, and made some calls.”

  She glanced down and saw three names, along with phone numbers. Next to the names were countries. Two were China and one was Korea.

  “These are sales reps who already have distributors for American products in select, upscale Asian markets. Right now, goat cheese is hot.”

  She looked from the paper to him, trying to understand. “They’ll take my calls?”

  “They’re interested in what you have to sell, and they know how to get started in those countries. There’s little risk to you, because you’re using infrastructure in place. Why reinvent the wheel?” He tapped the list, next to the second name for China. “She’ll want samples of your soap. If she likes it, she’ll take it on consignment, carrying the shipping costs herself. The only risk on your end is paying to have it returned if it doesn’t sell. However, she knows her customers and what they want to buy. From what I’ve heard, the biggest problem is how fast the orders tend to come in.”

  A problem she could totally handle, she thought, considering the bars of soap curing and how many more she could make in the next few weeks.

  Selling locally was one thing, but getting into the overseas market, especially in Asia, could mean real money. Possibly enough money to pay back May. Rafe had to know that.

  “This kind of business takes time,” he said gently. “But it will pay off eventually.”

  So he was good at business and a mind reader, she thought. “Thanks for the contacts,” she said. “I’ll call them all today.”

  “They’re waiting to hear from you.”

  Conversation shifted to work on the barn, but Heidi kept thinking about what Rafe had given her. Assuming he was right, and she had no reason to doubt him, she wouldn’t see any profits before they were to meet with the judge again. But if she could show an aggressive payback plan, that would help her cause. So why was he taking the chance?

  Did he have that much faith in his lawyer? Or was he starting to have feelings for her? She knew he liked her, that they had a good time together. Did he wonder what would have happened if they’d met under other circumstances? He’d turned out to be very different from what she’d expected. Maybe it was the same for him. Maybe they were both discovering an unexpected connection.

  * * *

  RAFE LIT THE COALS in the barbecue and watched in satisfaction as the blue flames jumped toward the sky. Sure, a gas grill would be faster, but there was something gratifying about cooking meat the old-fashioned way.

  Heidi walked out onto the back porch. “No explosion?”

  He chuckled. “The grill will be ready in about thirty minutes.”

  “Perfect. Your mom left us potato salad in the refrigerator. I finished a green salad. We’re good to go.”

  “You forgot the wine.”

  Her gree
n eyes crinkled as she made a face. “We’re having hamburgers.”

  “A good wine goes with everything.”

  She followed him into the kitchen. He’d already picked out a bottle. Heidi stared at the label.

  “Col Solare. Is it Italian?”

  He reached for the bottle and removed the foil. “Washington State. It’s a blend made in partnership.” He smiled. “How many details do you want?”

  “I think we’ve reached my limit. Is it expensive?”

  “Define expensive.”

  “More than twenty dollars a bottle?”

  “Yes.”

  “More than thirty?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  She tilted her head. “It’s just wine.”

  “You can’t use the words ‘just’ and ‘wine’ in the same sentence. You live five miles from a vineyard. You should support the local industry.”

  “I’m more of a margarita kind of girl. What’s the difference between a ten-dollar bottle and a hundred-dollar bottle?”

  “This wine is mostly aged in new French oak barrels. The best grapes are used, and the barrels are washed out during the aging processes. That’s a lot of expense and labor.”

  “Why do they wash out the barrels? And how? There’s wine in them.”

  “The wine is moved to stainless-steel containers, and then the barrels are cleaned out. It gets rid of sediment. The wine is then returned to the barrel to continue aging.”

  He removed the cork and then got two wineglasses from the cupboard.

  “Stainless steel because the wine won’t react with it?”

  “Right.”

  She took the glass he offered and sniffed. “It’s nice. You’re not going to talk about chocolate and black cherry are you? I’ve never understood that. It’s grapes, not chocolate. And if you say it’s pretentious, I’ll throw this at you.”

  On his Nina-arranged date, he and the other woman had discussed wine because they’d had little else in common. That conversation had been slightly tedious and filled with “I know more than you” stories. He found he preferred Heidi’s honest assessment of wine.

  “Tell me if you like it,” he said. “That’s what matters.”

  “Do I swirl? Red wine drinkers like to swirl.”

  “It aerates the wine.”

  “I thought oxygen hurt wine.”

  “In the bottle, yes. Once it’s opened and ready for drinking, oxygen opens up the flavors.”

  She dutifully swirled her glass, then took a sip. She let it sit on her tongue for a second, then swallowed.

  “Oh.” Her green eyes widened. “That’s nice. Smooth, but with a lot of flavor. I thought it might have that weird bite, but it doesn’t.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  They walked out onto the porch and sat on the steps.

  They were a couple of hours from sunset. The days were getting longer and warmer as they inched toward summer. Buds had given way to leaves and flowers.

  He and Heidi had brought the goats back for the evening. He could see the sheep and llamas grazing contentedly. He’d resisted coming to Fool’s Gold, but looking around now, he had a hard time remembering why.

  “It’s Saturday night,” Heidi told him. “What would you be doing if you were back in San Francisco?”

  “Working.”

  “Not out on a date?”

  “If I was dating, I wouldn’t need Nina.”

  “There must be tons of women where you work or hang out.”

  He shifted on the step, uncomfortable with the topic, but unclear on how to change it. “I’m not interested in going out with someone I do business with. I also won’t date an employee. There aren’t a lot of other women in my life.”

  “You have a lot of rules.”

  “I’m not looking to get sued for sexual harassment.”

  “Good point. No likely candidates at your monthly tycoon meetings?”

  He grinned. “No. All the good ones are married.”

  “What about your season tickets to the opera or ballet?”

  “I’m more a baseball guy. But I do like theater.”

  “Musicals, where people randomly break into song?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “You’re full of surprises.” She put down her wine and grabbed his free hand. With her fingertips, she traced the calluses on his palms. “What will your tycoon friends say about these?”

  “To tell you the truth, they’ll be envious.”

  Heidi released him, which made him want to put his arm around her and pull her close. He liked when they touched. Lately he wanted to do a lot more than just touch, which made for some timing issues. He did his best to be gone before she stepped into the shower in the morning. The last thing he wanted was to spend fifteen minutes listening to the water running and imagining her naked. Not that leaving the house erased the image, but it made dealing with it easier.

  “You’re a better cowboy than I would have thought,”

  she admitted.

  “I like the work. I can look out and see what I’ve accomplished in a day. I don’t get a lot of that in my regular life.”

  “Be careful. This kind of life can be seductive.”

  He glanced at her and found her looking at him. She had beautiful eyes, he thought, staring into her green irises. A great smile. Her blond hair hung past her shoulders, all wavy from the braids.

  He found himself wanting to touch the soft-looking strands, to pull her close and kiss her. But kissing would lead to other things, and that would be a mistake. Heidi might not be the enemy anymore, but she stood in the way of what he wanted. Sleeping with her would make an already complicated situation more difficult. But, damn, she was a temptation.

  “Coals,” he murmured, not quite ready to turn away.

  “What?”

  “I should check the coals.”

  “Oh, right. I’ll get the burgers.”

  For a second, neither of them moved. Rafe knew he was seconds away from not caring about the consequences. But just as he was about to set down his glass and reach for her, she scrambled to her feet and walked into the kitchen.

  Probably for the best, he told himself, ignoring the need building in his body, and the voice in his heart that whispered he was a fool to let Heidi be the one who got away.

  * * *

  HEIDI HAD A HARD TIME with dinner. The meal was great—there was no bad with hamburgers and potato salad—and she enjoyed the wine. Rafe was his usual, charming self. A funny, intelligent companion who could speak on any number of topics and still surprise her with his unexpected views on everything from the British royal family to his belief in renewable energy.

  Her confusion came more from wondering why on earth any woman would have left Rafe. He was the kind of guy she would hold on to with both hands. Which led to the second problem… Unruly girl parts.

  She’d moved past the tingling-in-anticipation stage and was firmly in “take me now.” Every time he smiled, she felt a tug in her belly. When his hand casually brushed hers, she wanted to whimper. If the man took her in his arms and kissed her for longer than thirty seconds, she would probably have an orgasm.

  With dinner finished and the dishes washed, the rest of the evening stretched before them. May and Glen planned to go to a movie after their meal, which meant they wouldn’t be coming home for another three hours. Maybe more. The night was young, the sun just setting, and Heidi was terrified she was going to say or do something humiliating. Her only option seemed to be escape.

  She swallowed the last of her wine, possibly a mistake considering she was already a little buzzed from her first glass, and stood.

  “I, ah, should get some paperwork finished.”

  Rafe ros
e. “You sure? I thought we could go for a walk.”

  “In the dark?”

  “I’ll protect you.”

  She wanted to say yes. Wanted to spend time with him, talking to him and maybe more. But her fear was greater. With her blood pumping and her hormones doing their best to convince her to be wild, she was very likely to say or do something humiliating. Escape was the safest route.

  “Maybe another time,” she murmured, moving back, anxious to get to the door. Once there, she could run for the stairs and make it to her room before disaster struck.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Great. Better than great.”

  She gave him what she hoped was a brilliant smile and turned. Unfortunately she’d gone back farther than she’d realized and, in her haste, plowed directly into the cabinets. Her momentum was such that she staggered back and started to trip. Rafe caught her before she could tumble. He took hold of her arms and turned her so she was facing him.

  His eyes were dark as night. His face all hard planes and sharp angles. Her gaze settled on his mouth as she remembered how good the kissing had been.

  Then, she didn’t have to rely on memories, because he drew her close and pressed his lips against hers.

  He tasted of the wine. Strong arms surrounded her, making her feel both secure and delicate. Female to his male. Her body nestled into his, her breasts flattening against his chest, her thighs pillowing his. She lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, her fingers burying themselves in his hair.

  The kiss was everything she remembered. Tender and demanding at the same time. Taking and yielding. She parted her lips and waited a heartbeat for his tongue to brush against hers. Wanting turned liquid. Hunger swept through her, like the tide coming in.

  She tilted her head so they could deepen the kiss. He moved his hands up and down her back before sliding them to her waist. He paused there, as if waiting for her to decide what happened next.

  There were options, she thought hazily. She could step back, say good-night and run away. The safe course, the sensible course. Or…