by Stacy Finz
“I’m sure you can. But I’m not that selfish.”
“Yes, you are.” He winked to show he was teasing, but wanted to steer them onto their usual course of needling each other. It was easier than facing up to the fact that he might be falling for her. He wasn’t ready to fall, especially for a woman who was so ill-suited for him.
“I talked to my mother earlier. I told her I was helping you and that you were on board with her sharing info with me.” He held eye contact with her to make sure he hadn’t overstepped. She nodded. “My mom says that Candace Clay had approached a divorce attorney before the scandal broke. Did she tell you that?”
“Yes, which shows you how obnoxiously phony showbiz is. According to everyone in television, they were the ‘it’ couple, so in love there were literally hearts flying out of their asses.” Gina rolled her eyes. “I guess that was a load of horse manure.”
Their public image might’ve been a complete facade, but it seemed to Sawyer that both Gina and his mother were missing the bigger point. “You don’t think the timing is strange?”
Gina hitched her shoulders. “Maybe Danny’s a huge player and Candace was sick of his infidelity long before the story about him and me broke. Who’s to say?”
“Where’s your computer?” Sawyer had an idea.
Gina got up and fetched her laptop from the bedroom. “Why?”
“I want to see something.” He snatched it from her and opened a Google image search for Candace and Danny Clay, which returned pages of pictures.
Gina perched on the arm of his chair while he sifted through the photos. “What are you looking for?”
He jumped back on the internet and pulled up the notorious wide-lens shot of Gina and Danny on the beach. “Something that looks like this with Danny or Candace or both of them in it. I’m thinking this was shot somewhere tropical.” He pointed at the palm trees in the background of the photo. Unfortunately, there were a hell of a lot of tropical beaches. “Just keep your eye out for something that has this background.” He returned to his search.
“Why them?” Gina leaned in to get a better look at the screen. “Someone could’ve superimposed Danny and me onto a beer ad for all we know.”
“You could be right, but it’s a lot less work if one of you is already in the shot. When was the last time you visited a tropical beach?”
“Uh…never. I can’t remember the last time I had a vacation, let alone one in Tahiti. And this doesn’t look anything like Malibu.” She motioned at the photograph of her and Danny that Sawyer had moved to the other half of the screen.
“Nope. That’s why we’re searching pictures of the Clays. Call it a hunch, but I’m betting they were recently somewhere that looks just like this.”
And even if his premonition didn’t pan out, it at least kept his hands busy—and off her. He was still reeling from their unprotected sex that morning. He couldn’t remember being that irresponsible, not even in high school.
“Can we do this on the couch?” She wriggled her butt on the arm.
He put the laptop down on the coffee table, lifted her off her feet, held her a little longer than he should’ve, and dropped her in the center of the sofa. Sawyer took the end of the couch and went back to scrolling through pictures.
She scooted closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder.
“If you’re tired I can do this,” he said, trying to pretend that he wasn’t affected by her nearness.
“No, I’m awake. You’re just comfy. Like a big pillow.” She yawned. “I don’t see anything.”
So far, the shots he’d found were mostly of the promotional variety. Some of them appeared to be screen grabs of past episodes of their show and there were a few pictures of the couple attending charity events.
From Candace’s tight smiles and mannequin-like poses with Danny, Sawyer wasn’t surprised that her marriage was on the rocks. Judging by the photos—Danny was all smiles and adoring glances at his wife—her husband hadn’t gotten the memo.
Or he was an Academy Award–caliber actor.
Who could honestly say? Perhaps Danny was more comfortable around a camera than his wife. Perhaps Candace had had a bad case of food poisoning when the photo had been shot. Sometimes a photo wasn’t worth a thousand words. Sometimes they were just snapshots of a single moment in time.
When Sawyer got tired of scanning publicity shots, he entered a set of new terms into the search engine. Clays. Celebrity chefs. Vacation. Beach.
The first page of photos depicted a lot of the same. Candace and Danny headshots, more pictures of the couple on the set of their show, and a collection of them posing with other celebrity chefs. The next page was filled with images of the couple at the South Beach Wine and Food Festival.
At least they were getting closer. There was actually sand in a few of the shots.
“They go every year.” Gina burrowed her head under his arm and rested her cheek against his chest. He subconsciously wound a strand of her hair around his finger.
“Do you go too?”
“Sometimes. The last few years, I bailed, sending someone from my company instead. I hate those things. It’s a lot of hobnobbing.”
From the photos it looked like one big drunken party for the rich and bored. He scrolled down, just about to give up. That’s when he saw it. A photograph of Danny and Candace on a strikingly familiar beach.
Gina sat up straight. “Oh my God, that’s it. That’s the picture.”
The photograph depicted Danny sitting in the sand, wearing the same swim trunks as the ones in the photo with Gina. Same ear-splitting grin. Same sandy beach. Same palm trees. Same blue ocean water. The only difference was Candace sat next to Danny in an embroidered sundress.
“It’s as if they erased her and stuck someone else’s body into the picture with my head.”
Sawyer moved the two photos side by side for a closer comparison. “That’s exactly what someone did.” The pictures were identical. Except in the second one, Candace had been replaced by a bikini-clad Gina.
“What does the caption on the photo say?”
He clicked to enlarge the picture, then moved his mouse to the visit box, which took him to a tourism page for Tulum, Mexico and a caption that said they were there two years ago, shooting an episode of their show on how to make ceviche.
They both looked at each other and then she squealed and threw her arms around his neck. “You’re a genius, Sawyer Dalton. This will prove I’m not the skank everyone thinks I am.”
“Hang on.” He gently pulled her away. “This is only one piece of the puzzle. Before you go public, you need more. Like time stamps to show which photo came first. And motive. Otherwise this doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t care whether it makes sense. That photo”—she jabbed her finger at the screen—“shows that the one of Danny and me is bullshit. Pure and simple. I’m going to post it on my website. Show the world that I’ve been falsely accused. This proves it.”
Not quite. But he didn’t want to burst her balloon. “Slow down, sweetheart. Let’s do this the right way. First, let’s call my mom. This is what you’re paying her for and she’ll know exactly how to proceed with this new information.”
Gina reached for her phone on the coffee table and Sawyer covered her hand with his. His mother kept late hours, but it was closing in on midnight. “Why don’t you wait until first thing tomorrow?”
It wasn’t as if his mom could do anything with their information now anyway. And Sawyer wasn’t convinced this was all they needed to clear Gina’s name. The original photo was far from a smoking gun as far as he was concerned. But it was a start.
A good start.
He saved the picture to Gina’s hard drive and emailed himself a copy. Glancing at his watch again, he knew he should go. But instead, he stayed rooted to the couch like an ancient oak tree.<
br />
“You want to spend the night?” she asked.
“No,” he returned honestly. “But I can’t seem to force myself to leave.”
For once, she didn’t have a smart refrain, just took his hand, tugged him off the sofa, and led him to her bedroom. He watched her undress, took off his own clothes, crawled under the top sheet, and curled himself around her.
When he woke the next morning, he found her tucked up against him with her head on his chest. It felt so right that a rush of warmth coursed through him. And that’s when he knew that this was different than anything he’d ever felt for a woman before.
Dangerously different.
Chapter 15
A week had passed and there hadn’t been any unwanted visitors hiding in Dry Creek Ranch’s underbrush or flashing strobe lights. In other good news, Gina got her period. She should’ve been relieved, but instead experienced a tinge of regret. Not that she wanted to be pregnant. Children had never been part of her game plan.
But lately, her game plan seemed less clear than it always had. And to borrow a cliché, her biological clock was running out. Then there was Sawyer. Theoretically speaking, he was the exact kind of man she would want to be the father of her children. Smart, good, hardworking. Wonderful with kids.
She’d seen him with his niece and nephews. They couldn’t get enough of him, climbing him as if he were a mountain. He’d hang them upside down until they erupted into fits of giggles and walked with them standing on his feet.
She loved watching the easy way he had with them, the easy way he’d lift Ellie out of her saddle after a day of riding or bait Grady’s hook when they were fishing in the creek.
There was no doubt that Sawyer Dalton would be a wonderful father, even though it didn’t appear to be in his game plan. At least not with her.
She started to call him to tell him there wouldn’t be any babies in their future when her agent buzzed.
“Are you sitting down? Because you’re not going to believe this.”
Why did everyone say that? Gina preferred to stand while hearing bad news. And that catch in Robin’s voice told Gina she was definitely in for bad news.
“What?”
“Candace Clay wants your Now That’s Italian! time slot for her new show.”
Light-headed, it turned out Gina really did need to sit down. “So they’ve canceled me for sure.”
“No one is saying anything over there. It’s like a goddamn library, it’s so quiet. I only heard about Candace from Skyler Rome, who heard it from his agent, who also happens to represent Candace. We were at a charity event together and he had a couple of drinks too many, letting it slip.”
“Candace has been a busy bee, hasn’t she?” Gina had caught everyone on her team up on the Tulum photograph and the rumor that Candace had been seeking a divorce even before the controversy broke.
“Yes, she has. Word on the street is Danny is prepared to take her to the cleaners. So, I guess she’s looking out for her future. I can’t say I blame her.”
“But it does seem sort of convenient, don’t you think? It’s not that I think she’s behind ruining my life, but she’s certainly using my downfall to better herself.”
There was a long pause, then, “We’re all opportunists, Gina. That’s Hollywood.”
Gina supposed her agent was right. Lord knew Gina had climbed over a few backs to get where she was. Now, it just seemed unscrupulous. Not because it was happening to her, but because it was a shitty way to live life, like dancing on someone’s grave.
Watching the Daltons try to save their ranch using ingenuity and grit made all the Hollywood pushing and posturing feel shallow. And just plain dirty.
She blew out a breath. “What do we do now, Robin?”
“Not much we can do as long as no one from the network will deign to return my calls. What does Wendy Dalton say about exposing the original photo?”
“She’s considering leaking it to the press, but wants to consult with a few media types to see how it will play. Wendy’s afraid that it might look desperate. That the photo really doesn’t prove much, even though I think it does.” She would’ve pushed Wendy if not for the fact that Sawyer agreed with his mother’s assessment. And Sawyer would know, being a member of the media.
“I trust her,” Robin said. “Wendy is the best in the business. In the meantime, I say keep doing what you’re doing. Stay low-profile.”
Which probably meant no more trips to the kitchen store in Grass Valley. At least whatever talk Jace had had with Tiffany seemed to have done the trick. Last week’s excitement with the lone camera guy appeared to be a one-off. At least so far. She suspected that at some point, he’d either be back or he’d tell his friends.
Her secret location couldn’t stay secret forever.
“I will,” she said and signed off.
She started to make that phone call to Sawyer when she decided to walk over to his barn apartment instead. It was early enough that the temperature still hovered in the seventies and she wanted to stretch her legs.
But no one was home, though Sawyer’s Range Rover was still in the driveway. He’d probably gone riding. At least once a week the men on Dry Creek Ranch spent the wee hours of the morning checking the fences that kept their cattle in before going off to their respective jobs.
Well, he’d have to wait to hear the good news.
She sighed and headed to Aubrey and Charlie’s barn. Construction was finally done and the women were spreading out in their new digs. With the extra room, Charlie was able to do a few more displays in the shop. While Gina didn’t know a darn thing about decorating or home decor, she enjoyed watching Charlie and Aubrey work their magic. They had so many beautiful pieces that it was a feast for the eyes.
She found the women, along with Sawyer, Jace, and Cash, in a meeting with a man she’d never seen before. A rangy cowboy who reminded her a little of Brad Pitt in his Thelma & Louise days. This man, though, had more crinkles around the eyes and brackets around the mouth. Sun damage or a hard life. Maybe both.
Nice-looking, just the same.
When she quietly tried to leave, Sawyer motioned that she should stay. It was awkward because she wasn’t family. But she was nosy, so she took a seat at Aubrey’s new pedestal conference table on one of the cowhide chairs. They were quickly introduced. No last names, just Gina and Ted.
The stranger glanced her way and tipped an imaginary hat, which sat on its crown on the table in front of him. There went keeping a low profile. But there didn’t seem to be a spark of recognition in his hazel eyes. Not everyone watched the FoodFlicks Network or read the tabloids, she reminded herself. From his weathered hands, she could tell he worked hard and probably didn’t have a lot of time to watch cooking shows on television.
“What would you need?” Cash asked.
“A studio and shop,” he said and glanced around the gleaming new conference room where Aubrey’s samples, catalogs, and fabric swatches had been organized on racks and wall boards. “Nothing as elaborate as this. Just a room where I can do my leatherwork and a small showroom to display some of my saddles. I’d need good internet. Most of what I sell is off my website or custom.”
“We could make that happen,” Jace said.
Gina wanted to say something but held her tongue. It wasn’t her place. But between building a flower shop and the saddlemaker’s studio, the Daltons would go into hock. Despite Aubrey’s contention that people shelled out a lot of money for saddles, Gina didn’t see how either business could pull in enough sales to pay a decent rent, let alone make a new construction build-out fiscally worthwhile to the Daltons.
“How long do you think it would take?” Ted asked. “I was kind of hoping to be up and running before Christmas.”
Sawyer glanced at Jace and Cash. “We’re still trying to decide if we want to build from the ground up or go modul
ar. Of course, either way we go it would have to be architecturally cohesive with the ranch. That might take some time.”
“We can have you set up by early winter,” Jace assured, sounding overanxious.
In Gina’s opinion, it wasn’t a good way to negotiate a lease. But again, she kept her mouth shut.
Sawyer tried to change the tenor of the conversation by getting right to the heart of the matter. “What were you thinking in terms of rent?”
“A triple-net lease. I couldn’t afford to do anything more than fifteen-hundred a month and even that’s a stretch.”
At least the guy was offering to pay for common area maintenance and insurance on top of his base rent. But $1500 wasn’t much. With the flower growers, the Daltons had their crop to fall back on if the girls stiffed them on the rent.
“How do you feel about letting lookie-loos watch you work?” Cash asked. “We’re trying to set this whole thing up as an agritourism type of attraction. Everything we do here, including the furniture, is tied to the land, tied to the resources that come with ranching and farming.”
“I’ve got no problem with that. In fact, I like it.” There was that smile again. He wasn’t nearly as good-looking as Sawyer, but one look at Ted the saddlemaker and the ladies of Dry Creek were going to wet their panties.
Sawyer shot her a look when she stared too long. Ordinarily, she would’ve told him to get over himself. But she sort of liked that he was being territorial. They’d never discussed their friendship or put any kind of label on it. But for the last seven days they’d spent the night together, splitting their time between the cabin and Sawyer’s place. He’d made it seem like it was in case any more tabloid reporters showed up. But she knew better.
They’d spent those nights talking even more than having sex, which was saying something. She’d never had this much sex in her life.
“If you’re into it we can make this work,” Jace told Ted. “But before we start building anything, we’ll need a contract. Can we send something over later today?”
“We good on the price?” Ted rubbed his chin.
