The Charmer in Chaps

by Julia London

  “Down!” a man commanded firmly.

  Luca! He was here? Now?

  Ella’s heart was suddenly beating like a drum. She pushed the dog off her. Now that his enthusiastic greeting was done, he was happy to trot on to the kitchen to see if any morsels awaited him. She brushed at the muddy paw prints, only smearing them. For Chrissakes, calm down. She should be able to breathe. This was a surprise, okay, but she ought to be able to handle it. It was just that after the winter carnival, she really believed that little thing she’d had with Luca was done. She’d gotten her wish, and Luca had finally seen her, but then he said good-bye, and she had truly expected that rain check would never come. Especially on a rainy day. Was it even possible to collect a rain check on a rainy day?

  Whatever he was doing here, she was blushing, and she probably looked a wreck because God knew she was not a pretty sleeper, and what was she supposed to say? She made herself look up into his hazel eyes as she tried frantically to catch her breath. “What—”

  “Found your dog running down the highway in the rain,” he said. “It’s not safe.”

  Ella swallowed, willed her heart to stop beating so hard. “I had a talk with him about it. But he won’t listen,” she said. “He’s pretty stubborn about his rights.”

  Luca ran a hand over his head in a manner that seemed a little anxious to Ella. “I had to bring him home. Because as I told you before, I’m pretty particular when it comes to dogs.”

  “Thanks,” she said

  He smiled lopsidedly, uncertainly, as if he didn’t know what to say next, and it was so stupidly charming that Ella was certain he used that smile to great success all the time.

  “You could have texted me before giving me a heart attack,” she said sheepishly.

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “The thing is, I’m not a great texter. I do better in person.” He smiled and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. Behind him, the rain suddenly began to come down in sheets. “For what it’s worth, I come in peace, so maybe you could put your gun down.”

  Ella gasped. She had completely forgotten she had hiked it up under her arm. “Oh, sorry! It’s not loaded.”

  “I would hope not. It’s plastic.”

  She put her hand on the long barrel and dropped the butt to the ground. “You’re not supposed to notice that. You’re supposed to think it’s real and be afraid.”

  The smile that lit Luca’s face was slow and sultry. “Darlin’, no one with half a brain would think that gun was real.”

  Darlin’. The word skied down her spine and landed on the flat of her groin with a whoosh. She tossed the stupid toy gun onto the floor next to some People magazines she had rescued from Byron’s trashcan. Luca remained standing just outside the door, the screen door propped against his shoulder.

  Ella pushed a hand through her hair and felt the tangles. Why oh why were the karma gods against her? Why was it that half the time she saw this man she looked as if she’d been tossed out the back of a moving truck?

  She dropped her hand and looked him up and down. “I guess you’re back,” she said.

  “I’m back,” he agreed.

  For good? Just passing through? And what in the hell was he doing here on this rainy morning?

  “Umm . . . it’s a little chilly out here,” Luca said.

  Ella’s brows dipped. “Are you saying you want to come in?”

  “I am. Unless you’re saying you want to come out here so I can talk to you for a moment.”

  She looked past him to the rain and shook her head. She rubbed her hand on her bare arm and reluctantly stepped back. She wasn’t thrilled about Prince Luca seeing her worn, threadbare house—it was inadequate for someone like him. It was decidedly unglamorous compared to Luca, who was virile and handsome and glamorous. But it was cold, and she was shivering, and she didn’t know if he knew it or not, but the porch roof she and Mateo had repaired had sprung a leak very close to where he was standing. “Okay, come in,” she said.

  “Are you sure?” he asked uncertainly. “I don’t want to bother you.”

  Ella didn’t see how that was possible, since he was literally on her doorstep bothering her. “I’m sure. Come in—I could really use some coffee.”

  “Late night?” he asked, and smiled as if he expected her to say no.

  “As a matter of fact,” she said. That’s right, cowboy, you’re not the only game in town. I haven’t been wasting away out here, waiting for you to come back. Except that her internal feminist declaration was not meshing well with all the butterflies in her stomach right now.

  “Well then,” he said, and his smile turned curious as he slipped past her and into her house. His eyes flicked to her very thin tank top for a brief moment, and she felt her body perk up. She really wished she’d had time to put on a bra. “I’m not interrupting you, am I?” he asked.

  “No. Be careful of the dip in the floor. The wood feels like it might give way there, and I have no clue what’s beneath it.” She darted past him and swiped up a hoodie from the couch and pulled that on over her tank.

  Luca stepped over the dip in her floor to the middle of her living room. With his hands on his waist, he looked around at her sparse furnishings and the stack of work papers piled on one end of the couch she’d picked up at Goodwill. He looked at the novels on her Ikea bookshelf and then up at the leak in her ceiling. And then down to the pot on the floor, which had almost filled with rainwater. The dog paused to drink from it before disappearing into her bedroom.

  “So, a good time was had by all last night, I take it?” Luca asked, and glanced over his shoulder at her.

  What was that look on his face right now? He looked curious and interested and, if she wasn’t entirely crazy, slightly annoyed. “Yep,” she said, and rocked onto her toes and down again, and stopped short of hitching up her jeans.

  “Huh,” he said, and she could tell from his blisteringly shiny hazel eyes he didn’t like it. He seemed almost jealous. Jealous? Oh please. Ella, get hold of yourself! He was not jealous. What universe would that be? Would that be Opposite Day?

  Ella pushed her hair from her face again. “Sorry about my house.” She stepped around a box of books and some clothing she intended to take to Goodwill, or had picked up from Goodwill, she couldn’t remember because she wasn’t really thinking straight, and around a stack of mail she had not yet tackled, a yoga mat, and oh, look there, how convenient, a bra. “I’ve been really busy,” she said. In other words, I don’t have maid service.

  “Another Real Housewives marathon?”

  Ella shot a look over her shoulder. He smiled. So did she. A little, anyway. She hadn’t quite decided what her demeanor was going to be just yet. She felt too topsy-turvy. So she padded into the kitchen, across the old linoleum floor, sidestepping a place where the linoleum had peeled back from the subflooring. She opened the back door in case it smelled as moldy in here as she feared. “When did you come back to Three Rivers?” she asked as she reached into a cabinet for her giant Costco-sized can of coffee and began to spoon it into the old coffee maker she’d picked up at the thrift store.

  “About a week ago.” He was watching her like he’d never seen anyone make coffee before. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he showed up in the dining room at Three Rivers ranch every morning and someone appeared with his coffee and eggs. That would be awesome, if all a person had to do was roll out of bed and someone had breakfast and coffee waiting for them.

  “So how are you?” she asked as she put away the coffee and picked up a gallon of water to fill the coffee pot, because the kitchen faucet still wasn’t working, and she hadn’t had time to YouTube it.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I did a little traveling. This week, I’ve just been riding around on horseback like a fool.”

  “That’s weird,” Ella said. “Couldn’t you just ride around like a cowboy?”

 
Luca chuckled. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, relaxing a little. “I tried, believe me. It’s funny, because when I was a kid, I rode every day. But it’s been a while since I rode as much as I have this week, and I’m feeling a little cracked open.”

  “Ouch,” she said.

  “Do you ride?” he asked curiously.

  “Me?” She laughed. “No.”

  “You should try it,” Luca said. “You can’t have a ranch and not ride.”

  “A ranch? It’s more like a waystation for misplaced animals.”

  “Maybe you could ride with me some day,” he suggested. “I can teach you.”

  Was that an invitation? She looked at him from the corner of her eye to gauge just how serious he was, but he was looking up at her ceiling. She followed his gaze and winced. Water was bubbling in the corner.

  “Maybe I will,” she said. “I have horses, you know. I mean, I will if I can ever convince them to come back into the fenced pasture.” She paused, thinking about that. “Actually, I’d have to give them away.”

  “What?”

  “The horses,” she said. “I can’t keep them. I don’t ride, and I definitely don’t want to be cracked open.” She laughed. And then instantly sobered, realizing how terribly sexual that sounded. She was so bad at small talk. She turned her back to him, pretending to do something with the coffee and closed her eyes.

  “That won’t happen to you,” Luca said, letting the remark slide. “I had something to prove, so I rode a lot longer than I should have.”

  “Prove to whom?” she asked.

  “To myself, I guess.”

  He was suddenly standing beside her, startling her. He leaned back against the counter and said, “I’ll let you in on a little secret—I’ve lost my ranch muscle.”

  Ella didn’t know what a ranch muscle was, but he didn’t look like he’d lost even a tiny bit of muscle. Anywhere. Not in his shoulders or his chest or his arms or his hips—Lord, his hips—or his legs. She swallowed and flipped on the coffeepot. “You don’t look like you’ve lost anything,” she said, and felt her cheeks flare with heat.

  “Thanks,” Luca said, and touched her hand. “But I can feel it. I used to wail on the punching bag at the ranch gym, then go out and work cattle or repair fences.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m determined to get it back, because I belong on that land. Not behind a desk.”

  This he announced as if he was talking to himself or making a case in front of a judge.

  “I thought you had a Sombra dealership,” she said.

  He glanced at her curiously. “Did I tell you that?”

  “Umm,” she could feel herself color even more. “Lyle mentioned it. He’s not a fan of electric cars.”

  Luca did not take offense—he laughed. “Lyle likes the smell of gas and a greasy motor. Not many people around here are fans of electric cars. It’s really not my thing, either, but the dealership was a gift from my uncle Chet.”

  Ella was glad she was looking in a cabinet for sugar, because she was certain her mouth gaped open. She couldn’t fathom getting a car dealership as a gift. Who gave gifts like that? Only the Princes.

  “I hate it,” he said quietly.

  The tone of his voice had changed slightly, as if he was ashamed to say so, and Ella had to look at him to make sure she’d heard him correctly. He was studying the back of his hand, and he glanced up, gave her a woeful smile. “I probably should not have said that out loud. I’m hoping it can stay between you and me.”

  Ella was dumbstruck. He hated being rich? Owning cars? And had he really just told her something he hadn’t said to anyone else? “I don’t know, Luca,” she said. “I don’t know if I can be trusted with the knowledge that you don’t like electric cars. Maybe, and I’m just thinking out loud here, but maybe you and Lyle could form a support group for electric car haters.”

  Luca grinned.

  “I won’t tell your secret,” she said. “If there is one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s how to keep secrets. And trust me, that is a secret I would have absolutely no one to tell.”

  He laughed. “Thanks. I feel like a total nerd now.”

  Oh, he was about as far from a nerd as a man could be.

  A snort at the back door made Luca jump. Ella leaned around him to see the pig, just as she suspected, its snout pressed to the screen door. It was the same thing every morning—she opened the door, and the pig was there, ready for breakfast.

  “Jesus,” Luca said. “That thing startled me. Okay, Ella, I have to know—what’s with the pig?”

  “Same as the dog and the horses, I guess. Abandoned here. I’m not sure if the cat and chickens were left or if they wandered in to join the party.” She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.

  “Thanks. Cats and chickens don’t usually do so well together,” he said.

  “Right. But I don’t think this cat is working with a full deck. Usually, he’s lying in a mud puddle or on the hood of my car.”

  She held up the sugar container, but Luca shook his head no. She added plenty of sugar to hers and stirred, aware that Luca was watching her, aware that the butterflies were rioting in her belly. She was trying to pretend as if this were no big deal, as if it were perfectly normal for him to show up for coffee. She shouldn’t have to pretend. It shouldn’t be a big deal, because they were two adults now, not teenagers, and a man should be able to drop in on a woman to say hi, and she shouldn’t get all weird about it.

  But this was Luca Prince, and she’d been weird about it for a very long time. Some habits were very hard to break. She could feel herself getting wound up and tense because she didn’t know what this was, and she was a black-and-white kind of girl. She needed to know. She suddenly blurted, “Okay, that’s it.” She put down her coffee cup and folded her arms across her body.

  Luca tilted his head to one side. “You look kind of like you want to punch me.”

  “I kind of do. I don’t know what you’re doing here on a Thursday morning, without calling, instead of being wherever it is regular people go during the day. After . . . weeks.”

  “Actually, it’s midday Thursday for those of us who didn’t have a late night.”

  Ella arched a brow.

  “Okay,” he said, and set his cup down. “Fair question, and one I don’t have the answer to. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision on my part. I’ve been wanting to see you, Ella. And I saw your dog, and I . . . well, I acted impulsively. I have a habit of doing that.”

  He’d been wanting to see her? Really? For how long? When did it start? Was there a particular reason he wanted to see her, or was it the general, want to see her, see her? “You couldn’t call first?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call first. But I’ve thought a lot about you in the last several weeks.”

  Could he see her heart pounding nearly out of her chest? Could he see how discombobulated she was? Better question, could she believe him? “Why?” she demanded.

  He smiled with confused amusement. “Why? I don’t know—why does any guy think about any girl? Is it so hard to believe I was thinking about you?”

  “Yes! Yes, it is very hard to believe,” she said adamantly.

  Luca chuckled as if he thought she’d said it to be funny. But Ella hadn’t meant it to be funny. She may be older and more mature, but part of her was still the same girl clutching a math book after homeroom hoping he would notice her.

  He seemed to get it, because his smile faded and he looked at her intently. “Believe it. Believe it every time someone says it about you, Ella Kendall. You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re so damn pretty. There are probably all kinds of guys thinking about you right now.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  He leaned closer, his eyes locking on hers. “You interest the hell out of me.”

 
The man was not playing around, and it was official, Ella was going to melt right here, onto this ugly linoleum. “Luca . . .” she said, her voice in a near whisper. “Are you doing it?”

  “Playing you?” he whispered back.

  She nodded.

  He stepped forward, forcing her back a step, and she bumped up against the counter. He braced his hands on the counter at either side of her. “Look at me,” he said, as if she could possibly tear her gaze away from him. “I am definitely not playing you.” He didn’t touch her, just stood so close that he could probably see every bit of her insecurity and fear swimming in her eyes. “I like you, Ella, and I want to know you. Things got a little derailed, but if it’s okay with you, I would definitely like to get to know you. Is that okay?”

  Her heart was galloping along, headed for the sunset, but a voice somewhere inside, buried under the debris of her life, kicked her. Be careful! “It’s okay,” she said. “But I should warn you, I’m not going to fall for you, Luca Prince, if that’s what you think.”

  One brow rose slightly, and his gaze slipped to her mouth. “I don’t think anything right now except that I want to get to know you better.”

  “I mean it,” she said, her gaze on his mouth now. “You’re so damn good-looking, and God, you’re hot.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped up in an appreciative smile.

  “But I’m not the sort who goes for that. I’m pretty careful.”

  “Are you always so certain about something before you even try it?”

  “Yep,” she said, and looked into his eyes again. “I know me.”

  He suddenly smiled and said, “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” But she could tell, by the way he was smiling at her, that he didn’t believe her. He was smiling like he thought he had this in the bag.

  Maybe he did. Ella wasn’t sure she even believed herself. “I’m not flirting with you right now,” she insisted.

  “No kidding,” he agreed cheerfully. “Okay, I heard you, Ella, loud and clear. You’re absolutely not going to fall for a guy that, in your own words, is good-looking and hot, because you don’t go for good-looking, hot guys.”