by Liz Isaacson
Graham had a degree in computer science, and he solved problems for a living. Or, at least he used to. He supposed his work for Springside Energy was about solving problems too, just in a different way. A different type of problem, as people couldn’t be reprogrammed when they acted in ways he didn’t like.
“I don’t like him,” Graham announced.
“No,” Beau said. “I don’t suppose you would. You do like Laney, though.” He was almost asking, and Graham lined up his next shot, his thoughts tumbling over just how much he liked Laney.
He sank the striped thirteen and looked at his brother. “I really like Laney.”
Beau grinned and nodded. “You’ve never been too serious about women before.”
“What does that mean? I’ve had plenty of girlfriends.”
“Exactly that. Girlfriends come and go like waves on the shore for you.”
Graham lifted his chin. “I guess I’ve never really seen the point of a serious relationship.”
Beau set his cue stick back in the holder, apparently forfeiting the game. “And now? I mean, you seem serious with Laney.”
“I am.”
“So you’re in love with her.”
“No.” Graham leaned over and put the next ball in the end pocket. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love, but I think I’d know what it felt like.” He looked at his youngest brother. “Wouldn’t I?”
“I have no idea. I’m married to my job, remember?” He drifted over to the snack table and picked up a barbeque beef bundle. After he bit into it, he moaned and said, “Celia is the best.”
Graham smiled, shook his head, and sank the last ball. A raging monster lived in his chest, and it only took him until he racked his own cue stick to label it as jealousy. He didn’t want Mike anywhere near Laney or Bailey, and New Year’s morning couldn’t come fast enough.
Chapter 17
Laney found four arrest warrants for a Mike McAllister. Whether it was the right one or not, she wasn’t sure. An article out of Dallas said a Mike McAllister had lost his driver’s license after three arrests for driving under the influence.
“Can’t be him.” Laney looked up from her laptop, the darkness beyond the window a huge deterrent in her insane idea to sneak out and spy on Mike. What was he doing in her house? What condition would she find it in when she showed up in the morning? Would he really be gone?
Everything inside her body felt coiled tight, and she pushed her breath out in an attempt to relax. Problem was, she wasn’t sure she even knew how to take things as they came. She liked schedules and lists and routines, and having Mike show up out of nowhere was definitely not something she knew how to deal with.
Neither was having a real relationship with Graham, if she were being honest with herself. But that was a minefield she wanted to navigate.
She returned her attention to her computer, but another thirty minutes of Internet searching came up with nothing nefarious for Mike, as far as she could tell. Maybe if he didn’t have such a common name, she’d be able to find something concrete. Some sort of evidence.
“What would you do with it?” she asked herself. She’d sent the Sheriff away, providing Mike with sixteen hours of unsupervised access to her house. “What if he does something illegal at the ranch?”
Didn’t matter. Laney shook the thoughts away. He’d be gone by morning, and she and Bailey would be back in their homestead, and she could get back to normal life.
She paced over to the door and paused with her hand on the knob. She should go downstairs and get involved in the New Year’s Eve party. Bailey was down there, and she couldn’t rely on Meg to watch her daughter all the time. Plus, Graham was probably—
She yelped as someone knocked on the door. She snatched at the knob and yanked the door open to find the man she’d just been thinking about standing in the hall.
“Hey.” He gathered her into his arms, either not realizing how quickly she’d opened the door or not caring. “How are you? Feeling better at all?”
“Yes, much better.”
“Celia told me I should bring up some tea, but honestly, I think I’d probably drop it and shatter everything.” He smiled, the gesture warm and flowing over her. “So I came up to see if you’d come down to the kitchen for tea.”
“Do you actually drink tea?” She kept her arms wrapped around his strong back, enjoying the nearness of him, the comfort his presence brought. She’d enjoyed being married, and Mike hadn’t always been completely self-centered and involved in things beyond his intellectual capabilities.
Graham laughed, and Laney basked in the sound of it. “No, I don’t drink tea. But I do drink hot chocolate or coffee, and if there’s tea, there’s probably some of those.”
“Probaby both, if I know Celia.”
Graham tucked her into his side and said, “Come downstairs. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m okay.” She’d broken down in front of him, something Laney hadn’t done in years. Sure, she cried from time to time, always behind closed doors, always when Bailey was sound asleep or sufficiently occupied in the house while Laney worked in the barns.
But she’d just lost it in front of Graham. Clung to him while she wept, let him hold her while he whispered kind things to her, and left all kinds of wet stains on his coat by the time she pulled herself together.
She’d kept her eyes averted for a while after that, but her humiliation didn’t last long. People cried, and she couldn’t be expected to have nerves of steel.
The mood in the kitchen bubbled, along with the two steaming pots of water. Celia jumped up from the bar, where she was studying a notebook with a pencil behind her ear. She swept the reading glasses off her face and embraced Laney. “There you are. Come, have some tea.”
“I’m thinking hot chocolate,” Laney said, squeezing Celia’s bony shoulders to let her know she appreciated the concern. “Is that possible?”
“I think you’ve been here long enough to know what’s possible.” Celia gave her a motherly smile and busied herself with the hot chocolate. Laney got out the mugs and spoons, along with a bag of mini marshmallows. When she set the treat on the counter, she caught Graham watching her.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m just glad you’re here.” He lifted one powerful shoulder in a shrug. “You fit.”
Laney opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn’t vocalize anything. She’d wanted to fit with Graham for so long. Even as kids, she’d known he was on a different level than her. He’d been so full of life, same as he was now.
So quick to make big plans for himself. So easy to tease, and so easy laugh with, and so easy to fall in love with.
Laney sucked in a breath when she thought the word love. She ducked her head and focused on spooning chocolate powder into the hot water Celia ladled up for her. She could see the ten-year-old Graham in her mind. The eighteen-year-old she’d had a crush on. And the man he’d become now.
She liked all of them, and it was possible that she could very easily fall in love with him. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and added another few marshmallows. Maybe she was already in love with him.
She woke before dawn, surprised she’d been able to fall asleep at all. After the hot chocolate tasting in the kitchen, she’d gone downstairs with Graham and let herself eat appetizers and one-bites, laugh with the Whittaker brothers, and stroke Bailey’s hair after the girl fell asleep only twenty minutes before midnight.
When the clock had struck twelve, she’d gotten her New Year’s kiss with Graham, amidst a chorus of catcalls from his brothers. She hadn’t minded, but Graham had only kissed her for a few moments before he’d laughed and thrown a handful of marshmallows at his jeering brothers.
He’d given her a proper welcome-to-the-New-Year kiss outside her bedroom after walking her up the steps and promising her he’d go with her to the ranch the following morning.
Laney got up and dressed, thinking she’d make the mile-long walk to Echo Ridge
as the day lightened. Get some chores done in the barn, feed the chickens, and then approach the house after she was sure the truck was gone.
“You’re not going alone.”
She sucked in a breath and pressed one palm over her heart as a figure rose from the couch in the foyer. Impossibly tall and wide, it couldn’t be anyone but Graham.
“I knew you’d try to sneak out and go by yourself.”
“No,” Laney said automatically. “I hadn’t planned that specifically. I just couldn’t sleep.”
He shrugged into his jacket and jangled a set of keys at her. “I’ll drive.”
“I’m going to do ranch chores first.”
“Great. Maybe I’ll pick up some pointers.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and guided her away from the front door and toward the garage. It was no good to argue with him; Graham did what he wanted, and the thought struck fear right behind Laney’s rapidly beating heart.
Graham did what he wanted.
And what happened when he didn’t want her anymore?
Laney pushed the thought out of her mind and replaced it with He’s not Mike. He’s not Mike, for the duration of the short trip down to the ranch.
The offending truck was still in the driveway, and the house appeared to be asleep. “Oh, my goodness,” she said, another thought hitting her with the force of gravity. “Where do you think he slept?” The homestead had four bedrooms, and she could only hope he’d taken a bed in one of the spare rooms. The thought of having him in her personal space sent a shiver down her spine.
“No matter what, it’ll be okay,” Graham said.
“Go around to the barn.” She pointed past the driveway, and Graham continued around the property to the barns in the back. They worked together, side-by-side, and Laney let herself daydream at what life with him could be like.
He could lift twice as much as her, making the feeding go doubly fast. He stroked the horses as he went past, the same way she did. She caught him muttering a few things to Starlight, but when she asked the horse, she didn’t get any of the secrets.
“Barely seven-thirty,” he declared when they got the work finished. “Should we try the house?” He stood in the doorway of the main barn and faced the back of the homestead.
“Yes.” She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “It’s my house.”
“Laney.” Graham stepped in front of her. The look in his eyes made her pause. So intense. So serious. “I think he’s dangerous, Laney. I don’t think we should go in there if he’s still there.”
“I can handle—”
“No,” Graham said. “There are some fights you fight with fists, and some with brains. This is one we use our brains for.” He cast a quick glance back to the house, but it was still impossible to tell if anyone moved about inside.
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do.” He faced her again. “But it’s a feeling I’ve had since I laid eyes on your ex-husband. He’s…unstable. And while I know you can handle him, you shouldn’t have to.”
Laney didn’t know how to feel. He said the most beautiful things, and they all made sense to her. She knew her judgment was clouded when it came to Mike, so he said, “All right. Let’s circle back around the front.”
They did, and the truck was gone. Laney barely waited for Graham to come to a stop before she leapt from his SUV. The time it took for the garage door to lift seemed like an eternity, but she finally stepped into the house.
“I expected it to feel different,” she said, moving into the kitchen. “He left his mess.” She wanted to pick up the plate he’d eaten off of last night and throw it on the floor. She opened the fridge, not sure what she expected to find. But all her bottles of salad dressing and that old container of cottage cheese wasn’t it.
Graham stayed by her side as she moved through the other rooms in the house, so he was right next to her when she discovered where Mike had slept—a guest bedroom in the basement. Thankfully.
“It really does seem as though he simply slept here,” she said, trying to get a noseful of some scent she couldn’t smell. So he hadn’t smoked in the house. Or seemingly anything else nefarious.
Graham let her go through her bedroom alone, and when she came out, he said, “I have my people on it.”
“On what?”
“Finding out what’s going on with Mike.”
“I looked online last night.”
“My people can…do more than Internet searches.”
Of course they could. “Must be nice.” She didn’t mean to sound so snappy, but Graham just gazed at her evenly.
“It is.”
Laney felt the fight go out of her, and she wanted to sag to the floor and cry again. Thankfully, Graham seemed to sense this need in her, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her up.
“Let’s get cleaned up in the kitchen, and then I’ll bring you and Bailey down, let you get settled.” He held her at arm’s length and studied her from under the brim of that cowboy hat. “Okay?”
Laney looked into the depths of his eyes, beyond relieved that Graham was here, helping her, holding her. She nodded. “Okay.”
He swept his lips across her forehead, a quick touch that made her feel…loved. “Okay.”
Chapter 18
Graham got Laney settled. He got his brothers back on airplanes headed back to their homes, with promises from them to be back in Coral Canyon as soon as they could. Eli had projects to wrap up, and a house to sell, and arrangements to work out with his nanny. Andrew likewise had obligations he had to figure out before he could come back, and Graham didn’t like how empty and silent the lodge was once everyone had gone.
With January came regular life, with working out in the morning, feeding horses before breakfast, and pulling sixteen-hour work days for Springside Energy.
And now he had Laney to consider as more than someone he could text when he didn’t know what to do with one of his horses. She was insanely busy after being away from the homestead for so long, and their conversations took place through texts.
Graham hated talking on the phone, something he had to do for work and couldn’t seem to bring himself to do with Laney, even though he missed the sound of her voice. Sunday morning came, and he hadn’t been able to see her yesterday though they’d made plans. Bailey had come down with a stomach bug, and Laney had cancelled last-minute.
So Graham got dressed in his black slacks, white shirt, and bright blue tie, positioned his cowboy hat on his head just-so, and drove himself down the hill to Echo Ridge Ranch. His brothers had shoveled the driveway and sidewalk up to her front porch, and she’d kept it clean and salted though they’d had one light skiff of snow.
He knocked on the door, hoping he wasn’t being too forward. Then wondering why he cared if he was. He hadn’t seen her in six days, and he really didn’t like living in that lodge all alone. Even having Celia, Annie, and Bree come and go wasn’t enough to make the place feel like it had a soul, the way it had over Christmas.
Bailey said, “It’s Graham, Momma,” and a moment later, she pulled open the door. She wore a pale blue dress that made her eyes look like the inner part of a flame—bright blue. “Hey, Graham. Momma’s just putting in her earrings. She said you can come in.”
“Why, thank you, Miss Bailey.” He grinned at her and stepped into the house, pulling the door closed behind him. The place smelled like cinnamon and sugar, and his mouth watered. “Did your momma make something for breakfast?”
Bailey giggled and slipped her six-year-old hand into his. “No, silly. I made cinnamon rolls, just like Celia taught me. Come see.” She tugged him down the hall and into the kitchen, and his whole heart filed his chest, so full he thought he’d burst.
The kitchen looked like a sugar, cinnamon, and dough bomb had gone off, and Graham stopped and stared at it in mild horror. “Where was your mom while you made cinnamon rolls?”
“Feedin’ the horses.” Bailey sounded real proud of herself. “You want one?”
He couldn’t even see something edible, but he said, “Sure,” anyway. She bypassed the island, which was smeared with flour and melted butter, and used a spatula to scrape a mostly cooked roll off the sheet tray. She plopped it onto a paper plate and presented it to him with a broad smile.
It was definitely undercooked, but Graham took a big bite anyway. At least it tasted right, even if it needed a few more minutes in the oven. Or ten. He chewed and swallowed. Okay, twenty more minutes in the oven.
“Tastes great,” he said, because at least that was true. Laney walked out a moment later, her heels making clicks against the hard wood and saving him from having to take another bite of the nearly raw roll.
“Hey, stranger.” She slid her fingers along his jacketed forearm and a shiver moved through him. He discreetly set his plate down on the counter and grinned at her.
“Did you brush your teeth?” Laney asked Bailey.
The girl frowned, a glob of the inner part of a cinnamon roll on her finger. She licked it off and said, “Not yet.”
“Well, go get it done. We don’t want to be late for church.” She watched the girl skip down the hall and into the bathroom before turning back to him. “Better kiss me quick.”
Graham wanted to take his time, but he didn’t waste a second taking her into his arms and matching his mouth to hers. “I missed you,” he murmured and kissed her again. “I was hoping we could go to church together.” Another kiss.
“You aren’t worried about the town gossip?”
He kissed her again, his need for her almost insatiable. Something banged down the hall, and Laney stepped away from him, smoothing down her blouse, then her skirt, and finally her hair.
“You cut your hair,” he said, reaching for the ends of it.
“Just a little,” she said.
“At least six inches.”
“It was getting too long.” She smiled at him, and he found a pretty blush in her face. “And wow, you’re a brave soul to eat that cinnamon roll.”
