Clearly he did not want to see her. He was obviously disgusted by her childlike fantasies of old-fashioned shops and ice cream parlors and idyllic childhoods. Or perhaps it was her dancing.
When she went downstairs, she found Anne in the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She grabbed a mug for Sophie, and they sat down together at the kitchen table.
“No yoga this morning?”
“Would I have stayed out that late dancing?”
“Or danced that wildly?”
Anne laughed. “Was it that wild?”
“Hmm. Pretty much. But you looked amazing.”
“Thanks.”
“I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Besides half the guys in the place drooling over you, your secret admirer was taking more pictures.”
Anne’s eyebrows furrowed. “The photographer was there? Last night? Why didn’t you point him out to me?”
“As soon as he saw me see him, he left.”
Anne’s tone of voice was lighter than her words. “Do you think he’s stalking me?”
“No. I think—to use your grandfather’s word—he’s smitten.”
Anne dismissed her theory with a gesture of her hand and changed the subject. “Hey, you weren’t looking so bad out there yourself. You got plenty wild too.”
“I think you and Skye must bring out my lack of inhibition.” That and her determination not to let what was going on between her and Alex ruin her evening, or anyone else’s. And it might possibly have had something to do with her drinking more than one glass of wine.
“Glad we can be of service.” Anne’s expression turned more serious. “It’s good for you, Sophie, to let down your hair and be—”
“Carefree?”
“Yourself,” Anne said softly.
She couldn’t disagree with that. “Speaking of which, have you seen Alex?”
Anne laughed. “Interesting segue. He’s out riding with Mom.” She reached across the table and put her hand on top of Sophie’s. “Are you and Alex okay?”
“You noticed.”
“Hard not to, despite being busy dancing like a wild woman.”
“Where did you learn to dance like that anyway?” Sophie asked, hoping to return to a comfortable subject. No such luck.
“Did you discuss it after you got home?”
“Not really. There’s really not anything to discuss. It’s more that—I’m not even sure what it is. Difference of opinion, I suppose.”
“Things are different between you since you’ve been here?” Anne guessed.
“You could say that.”
“This place kind of does that. Or maybe your differences are just more apparent here.”
“That too.” And, she thought, they were each learning things about the other that they hadn’t known.
“What are you going to do?”
Sophie sighed and grabbed one of Nan’s homemade carrot muffins from the bowl and cut it in half. “Hope that things will get better.”
Anne looked at her. “You mean without your having to confront them?”
“Pretty much.”
Anne shook her rich dark hair that matched Skye’s. “In other words, if you ignore it, it will go away?” She stood up and gave Sophie a quick hug. “Good luck with that.”
Sophie knew she should confront Alex. Anything was better than the quiet tension between them. But he wasn’t here and she had to get into the village to help Sean. She inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly. The store had definitely become her sanctuary.
Sean greeted her with the warm smile to which she had become accustomed. Why was it so easy with him? Why could she tell him anything and not worry about his judging her or thinking her childish?
“Did you sleep in?” he teased.
“Actually, yes.”
“Good. I bet it’s the first time since you’ve been here.”
“I like mornings. What can I say? So, what do you need me to do today?”
“The usual. Just help out. I think there are some new books and gifts that need to be shelved too. If you want to do it.”
“I’ll get busy.”
“Sophie.”
She turned at the serious tone of his voice. “What? Did you find out something?”
“No. Nothing other than what I told you about. I’m just wondering why you didn’t tell Alex that you’re helping out at the store and your reason for it.”
“How did you know that?”
“The subject came up last night.”
“You didn’t—”
“No, as soon as I realized Alex didn’t know that I’m helping you find your father, I managed to cover.”
“Thanks, Sean.” She turned and headed toward the bookshelves, but stopped when he spoke again, his voice close as he followed her.
“What I’m wondering is why I needed to cover for you.”
Sophie shrugged. “It’s nothing. Really. I just didn’t want to get into it.”
Sean grabbed her shoulders gently and turned her to face him. “Not buying it, Soph.”
“I was going to tell him. Really. But then when I found out all this stuff about my mother, I just—”
“Just what?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t up to hearing one of his lectures, you know?”
Yeah, he knew. A little too well.
“You’re enjoying riding again,” Nan Jameson said to her son.
“How can you tell?”
“Your second time out in one day. You haven’t done that since—”
“Since I was a kid.” He laughed in an attempt to shake off the memories. “An obvious tip-off.”
But Nan wasn’t laughing. “Yet you still haven’t taken Sophie out.”
Alex groaned and guided his horse toward the trails. “Not you too.”
“What?”
“She’s been pestering me to take her out, but I just can’t seem to do it.”
Nan nodded as if understanding. “Do you love her, Alex?”
“Yeah, I love her. Of course, I do. Would I have asked her to marry me if I didn’t love her?”
Nan guided her horse along the fence line. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
“Come on, Mom, you know me better than that.”
“I used to,” she said. “But lately—Ever since you—”
“What? Spit it out.” He could take it. This was his mother after all, his nonjudgmental mother.
“You’ve been different since you moved to the city.”
“So, I’ve heard. Just because my tastes have changed a little doesn’t mean I would marry someone I didn’t love.”
“Okay then, if you love her, you need to put her first.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He could hear the defensive tone in his own voice.
“It means exactly what you think it means.” With that, Nan nudged her horse into a gallop and took off ahead of her son.
* * *
Sophie stood back and studied the bookshelves. The new arrivals had added just the right color and size to the display. As busy as she’d been helping customers, it had taken most of the day to finish the job.
“I’ll do the gifts tomorrow,” she told Sean. “Unless you want me to do them before I go.”
“Tomorrow is fine. Feel like riding?”
She grinned. “What do you think?”
“Come on, then. Sally will lock up.”
Sophie couldn’t hide her elation at the prospect of going riding again. She was becoming immensely attached to Milly to whom she had begun referring as her horse. Why not? Everyone else did, everyone, meaning Skye and Sean.
“You’re really enjoying country life.” Sean looked over at her beautiful smile.
“I am, especially riding. I love everything about it, brushing Milly and putting on her blanket and saddle and the halter.” And the rest of the tack that she hadn’t quite learned yet. “And taking it off, brushing her down, even mucking out the stalls.”
Sean s
miled in amusement, turning his attention back to the road as he made his way down the driveway. “Uh oh. Looks like it’s going to have to wait.” Sean nodded toward his father who was frantically waving his arms at them.
“What’s wrong?”
“We’ll know in a minute.” He turned the truck toward the garden and pulled over beside his father. “What’s up, Dad?”
“Irrigation problem. We’ve just about got it taken care of, but can you check on the lettuce for me?”
“Sure. It won’t take long, will it? Sophie wants to go riding.”
Nigel McCullough laughed at his son. “And you don’t?”
Sean shrugged. He could, after all, ride anytime. Sophie, on the other hand, only had little more than a week to ride. Unless, of course, he had his way and she stayed here with him in Canden Valley.
Sophie jumped out of the car and went with the two men. Just the smell of the fresh crop tantalized her nostrils. She was even becoming fond of the smell of fertilizer. Sweaty horses and wet dogs had their charm as well.
“It should be okay,” Sean said after assessing the situation. “We may lose a little but the hot evening will help.”
“Thanks, Sean. Could you do me another favor? I hate to ask, but some of the horse stalls got wet and need to be cleaned out. Could you take care of that before going riding?” Nigel turned to Sophie. “I’m really sorry about this, Sophie.”
“No problem. I can help.”
“No need for that. I’m sure Sean can handle it. I’d have some of the guys work on it, but they’re all tied up with the crops.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. Sophie enjoys mucking out horse stalls.”
Nigel raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
An hour later, after shoveling mud and manure, Sean asked her, “Want to rethink liking this part of the horse thing?”
Sophie groaned in exasperation as she used her forearm to try to push her sweat-drenched hair out of her face. “It’s fun. It feels good. Helping out and taking care of the animals. I like it. A lot.” She gave up on the notion of pushing her now-frizzy hair out of her face and had to resort to spitting it out of her mouth. “Lovely,” she muttered to herself.
“It looks good.” Sean stared at the soft curls that he would have given anything to bury his face in for just one moment.
Sophie cringed at his sarcasm, although his expression and tone seemed anything but mocking. “Right, I’m sure. My hair probably looks like I stuck my finger in a light socket.” She shook her out-of-control curls. “Just so you know, I didn’t have this done. I was born this way. The added frizz is just an unfortunate casualty of damp air, including that caused by sweat.”
Sean just kept smiling at her. She really had no idea how adorable she was . and how incredibly beautiful she looked. “Still loving mucking out horse stalls?”
“Absolutely.” She stopped shoveling and looked around her. “This place is amazing. The ranch, the farm, the animals. Your family.” Her eyes watered as she looked over at Milly and the other horses. “God, I wish I could stay here and do this forever.”
Sean felt as if his heart had been struck by an arrow. Before he could do something incredibly stupid like tell her he too wanted her to stay, he resorted to humor. “What? Shovel manure forever?”
Sophie smiled that smile that lit up a horse stall. “You know what I mean. Live here where it’s so beautiful and peaceful, ride horses, take care of animals, help out at the store, teach school, help decorate the farm and the ranch at Christmas with your family, play checkers and rummy with your grandparents—”
For a long moment, Sean was caught up in the fantasy world that had become all-consuming for Sophie. He jumped in with both feet and stood there beside her, basking in the idyllic world she had created in her mind. But when he looked down at his mud-covered boots, reality set in.
“We’re not a perfect family, Soph. This isn’t a perfect world.”
“I know that. Why do you think I think that?” She looked up at him, suddenly understanding. “Another subject that came up with Alex last night?” She wondered just how much of their conversation had been about her.
“He’s worried that you’ve idealized us.”
“No more than he’s idealized me.” She spit out the hair that had fallen back into her mouth and wiped her forehead with the back of her muddy glove. She put down her shovel and stared at Sean. “It’s true. Other than this flaw he’s recently discovered—my penchant for idealizing Canden Valley and the McCulloughs. He thinks I’m this perfect woman, great cook, great at entertaining, sexy, classy, always dressed just right, always sensible. Pretty much perfect.”
Sean laughed, pulling his hand out of his glove and wiping the smudge of dirt off her forehead. “Pretty much perfect, hunh?”
She looked down at her dusty T-shirt and her mud-caked jeans and boots and laughed. “The truth is, I prefer wearing flannel pajamas, a tank top, and my bunny slippers to any of the expensive clothes Alex buys me.”
“Bunny slippers?”
“I know. Real sexy.”
“What color?”
“Hunh?”
“What color are your bunny slippers?” Why he wanted to know, he had no clue, unless it was so that when he went to sleep every night, he could visualize her accurately.
“Mine are pink. I really wanted the off-white ones—” She closed her eyes for a moment as if picturing them. “Fuzzy white fleecy ones with a pink nose and pink inside the ears that stood up straight.” She opened her eyes again. ”But they’d sold out and didn’t think they’d be getting anymore in. The pink ones are nice too.”
“What’s Alex think of them?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure he’s ever noticed them.”
Sean watched as she plunged her shovel into the mud. His cousin didn’t know what he was missing. He was damned sure she looked sexy as hell in her pink bunny slippers.
* * *
Two hours later Sean pulled up alongside the blue pickup truck in front of the store. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to ride today, Sophie.”
“It’s okay. It was fun anyway.” She just hoped she could manage to slip into the shower at home before Alex saw her and looked at her askance once again. Her stomach tightened as she wondered how many times she had disappointed him on this trip. Things were definitely different between them. Maybe Anne was right. Maybe their differences were more evident here than they were in San Francisco. The fact that he had not touched her since they had arrived told her there was something going on. At first she had chalked it up to the fact that he was uncomfortable making love to her with his parents down the hall. It was becoming more difficult to rationalize that, considering that most mornings they were off tending to the animals while she and Alex were still in bed. Memories again? she wondered. Of the girl-next-door?
“We can go riding in the morning if you want to.” Sean’s words jolted Sophie back to the present moment.
“What about the store?”
“It opens later on the weekend,” Sean lied. She didn’t have to know that wasn’t the case.
“Really? I’d love to.”
“Okay, meet me at the stable at eight and we can go out on the trails.”
“I’ll be there!”
They climbed out of the truck and Sean walked her over to the blue pickup. She stood there staring down at her muddy clothes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just don’t want to get the truck muddy.”
Sean stifled a laugh. The last thing she needed to worry about was getting a ranch truck muddy. But he sensed there was something else contributing to her concern. Something in the form of her fiancé’s disapproval. He was getting really tired of his asshole of a cousin. He wanted his old cousin back, the one he had grown up with, the one he had been good friends with, the one he actually liked. But, then, if he were the old Alex, there would be little hope of Sean’s having a future with Sophie.
“Do
you want to shower here and change before you head back to the ranch? I can hose down your boots.”
“Really? You wouldn’t mind? Only what would I change into?”
“I just happen to know of a store about twenty feet from here that sells clothes,” he teased.
He took Sophie up to the apartment, relieved to see that he’d left it in somewhat decent condition. Even if it hadn’t been, he had the feeling it would not matter to her. He left her alone and took her boots around back to hose them off. Then he unlocked the store and grabbed a few pairs of jeans and some T-shirts off the rack.
Before heading back upstairs, he went into the office to check his email, well aware that he was avoiding his apartment until she had time to finish showering. It was difficult enough being downstairs. Being alone in his apartment with her was not something he wanted to subject himself to. It was disturbing enough to have recently discovered that he had a masochistic streak, but being in his apartment while she was in his shower was beyond torment, even for a masochist. It was sheer hell. And far too tempting.
Chapter 14
Sophie looked around Sean’s typical bachelor pad. No decorative or frivolous items adorned the shelves, counters, or fireplace mantel. The built-in shelves were filled with technical books and some fiction in the form of mysteries and suspense novels. A modest-sized television sat on top of a pine table in a corner of the great room. The couch and chair were a matching beige cloth set. The high ceiling gave the room light. The fireplace gave it warmth.
The pine coffee table had several dings in it. A couple books on organic farming and three empty beer bottles sat on top of it, along with a digital camera that was perched outside of its open case. She could not explain, even to herself, why she was longing to peek in Sean’s bedroom, but she controlled the urge. She was already invading his privacy, although he did not seem to mind.
The bathroom was surprisingly luxurious for an apartment over a store. There was a large tile shower and a separate Jacuzzi tub, dual sinks, and a long tile counter. She stripped off her wet and muddy clothes and folded them inside of each other to keep the mud and dirt intact. Sean had set out two clean towels, a washcloth, soap and shampoo for her. She opted to use his unscented generic shampoo instead of the lavender-scented bottle that had most likely been left behind by one of his female overnight guests.
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