Close Enough to Touch

by Victoria Dahl

  Shit. But that’s exactly what it had felt like. He should’ve—

  She shifted one last time, and then stopped moving. She faced away from him now, but she was still lying down, still pressed to his body. Her ass snug against his hips. Her back to his chest. God, he wished they were naked.

  “No,” she said to the space in front of her. “I don’t want you to apologize.”

  Cole let out the breath he’d been holding, exhaling as slowly as possible so she wouldn’t be aware.

  “I was just surprised,” she added.

  “Me, too.”

  She turned her head enough to shoot him an inscrutable look, then settled back down with her head on her arm. He wanted to curl his own arm under her and pull her tighter against him, but he had the feeling she might bolt if he did that. She’d barely let herself be kissed, which struck him as odd. After all, she’d just come twice for him.

  Shit.

  Twice.

  But regardless of her prickly nature, Cole needed to touch her, so he put his hand to her waist, his fingers resting against the stark black lines of her tattoo. “When did you get this?”

  “The tat? A few years ago.”

  “Will you tell me about it?”

  She shrugged. “What’s to tell? It’s a tree.”

  “A dead tree?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s bare for the winter.”

  “Come on. You must know. Tell me what it means.”

  Her laugh was just a humorless huff of impatience. “It means I dated a tattoo artist when I was twenty-three. That’s all.”

  “I don’t believe you. If that’s all it was, you’d have a Celtic cross on your shoulder or a unicorn on your ass.”

  That got a real laugh out of her, at least. He didn’t realize she’d gone stiff against him until she relaxed. “So you checked for unicorns when you were back there?”

  “I did. That’s one more horn than I’m comfortable with in these situations.” He could practically feel her smile.

  “You’re funny, you know that? You have any tattoos? Maybe a lucky horseshoe or a spur?”

  “A heart with ‘Ma’ written in elaborate script?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You can check me over later. Be thorough, all right?”

  “You wish.”

  “Oh, you’ve got that right, Miss Grace.”

  She laughed, and her body relaxed a tiny bit more. Maybe if he could get her to melt into him, she’d relax in other ways, as well. Maybe she’d tell him something about herself. Anything. Though if he couldn’t get her to melt after two orgasms, the girl might be made of steel.

  “I should go,” she murmured, but she didn’t move. If she didn’t want to leave, he’d give her every reason to stay.

  He smoothed his thumb along her ribs. “Tell me about your new job,” he said, hoping he’d picked the right topic. It’d been a long time since he’d held a woman like this. Even longer since it had felt so natural. Strange that it was with someone who represented everything he’d run from.

  “I’m working with a photographer named Eve Hill. I hoped she’d hire me to do makeup, you know? But she needed more help than that, so I’m working more hours than I expected, and trying out new things.” She flashed a smile over her bare shoulder. “Clearly.”

  Clearly? Did she mean him? He pressed his mouth to her shoulder blade, amazed that her skin could be so soft when she did everything she could to make herself look hard.

  “I didn’t think I’d be so good at it, but it’s working out. Thanks to you.”

  “Me?” he asked. “Are we talking about your job now? Or sex? Because yeah, you were damn good at that, but…”

  She snorted. “The job, obviously.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “The ranch!”

  He’d just been putting his mouth to her skin again, but he froze at her words. “What do you mean ‘the ranch’?” The warm press of her skin suddenly felt claustrophobic.

  “Easy Creek! Obviously I couldn’t have found that site for Eve unless you’d taken me there. Turned out it was perfect.”

  Shock washed through him like water through a sieve. “You did that?”

  “Did what?”

  “You brought those people to Easy Creek?”

  “Yes! Apparently there was a location scout in town until last month. He went out of business, so Eve has been taking up the slack. Yesterday, when they described the kind of place they were looking for, I knew the ranch was perfect. So, thank you.”

  “Thank you?” He pushed up, trying to get away from her.

  “Hey!” she protested when he nearly knocked her off the couch.

  He finally managed to get to his feet and stalked away. “Are you kidding me?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He turned to see her standing next to the couch, arms shielding her breasts, expression wary at his sudden change of mood.

  “What’s wrong?” he repeated. “How could you have done that to me? That’s my place of work, it’s not some scenic stop on a damn tour, Grace.”

  Her jaw fell.

  “I can’t believe you,” he said, but then he laughed. “Actually, I can. I don’t know why I’d find it hard to believe that a girl like you would think it meant nothing to bring fifty assholes out to my ranch and let them run wild.”

  “A girl like me? Are you kidding me? What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means you’re one of them. It’s so obvious. I should’ve known better than to think anything different. Jesus, I delivered Easy Creek to you with a goddamn bow!”

  Grace stalked toward the door, brushing past him with a glare. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not it. You’re way out of line.”

  “Did you not once think that maybe you should’ve run it by me before you dragged half of Hollywood out there?”

  “No, as a matter of fact—” Her voice was cut off by the fabric of her shirt as she yanked it over her head. Cole looked away from the sight of her bare breasts.

  “As a matter of fact, it didn’t occur to me, because it’s not your ranch. You don’t own it. Hell, you don’t even live there. So, no. It didn’t once occur to me that I needed your permission. Asshole.”

  With that, she stalked out of the apartment. His door hit the wall and bounced back so hard that it closed. Cole wanted to go over and open it again, just so he could slam it himself. Instead, he had to be satisfied with the convulsive bang of her door slamming.

  It had been her.

  Her.

  She was the one who’d done this to him.

  He was breathing so hard he felt as if he’d just run a mile. He was an idiot. Getting involved with a woman like her. He should have known better. He had known better.

  “Shit!” he roared. He wanted to punch something, but the last thing he needed was a broken hand on top of this broken leg. For once, that wasn’t hurting. He was too fucking pissed to feel anything. Except the rage.

  He paced to the door, then across the living room. He rolled his shoulders, trying to slough off the weight that had settled there. But he couldn’t budge it. It felt like the air was pushing in on him. The walls.

  Cole grabbed his shirt and his keys and walked out. And he finally got to slam the door. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THERE WAS ONE LINE OF GROUT above the tub that was whiter than all the others. Grace knew this because she’d been standing in the shower staring at it for the past fifteen minutes. The room got steamier and steamier, but that one line still glowed white. A repair, maybe. Or just a defect.

  Which brought her back to her life.

  “God,” she groaned, rubbing her hands over her face.

  She’d taken a shower when she’d gotten home last night, but she’d hoped another long, hot shower this morning would clear the confusion from her head. So far, nothing. And she had to get to work soon.

  Work. At the same pla
ce where Cole Rawlins worked.

  “Great. Another superintelligent move, Grace Barrett.” What the hell had she been thinking, sleeping with a cowboy?

  “A girl like you,” she muttered. That’s what he’d called her. A girl like you. How had he dared to throw something like that at her after he’d had sex with her?

  She’d known. That was the worst part. She’d known he’d only wanted her because she was different and dangerous. Known he’d wanted to have sex with her even though he’d avoided driving her all the way to the ranch. The sex hadn’t had anything to do with liking her. It never had anything to do with liking her.

  Which was fine. Just fine. Because she’d taken what she wanted from him, hadn’t she? She’d gotten off. Twice. That was a lot better than most one-night stands. And hell, as badly as it had ended, even that wasn’t the worst post-sex exit she’d ever suffered. So screw it.

  “Screw it,” she assured herself, turning off the shower. Whatever his problem was, he could deal with it. She had work to do, and she’d be damned if she’d let some oversexed cowboy mess up her plans. She had a lot more riding on this job than her feelings.

  It took ten minutes to do her makeup, and another ten to dry her hair and work in a tiny bit of her dwindling supply of styling product. She got dressed in the last of her work-suitable outfits and was out the door with ten minutes to spare. Thankfully, she got no glimpse of Cole on her way out.

  Unthankfully, Shane was coming down the stairs as she locked her door.

  “Morning, Grace,” he drawled, tipping his hat.

  “Shane,” she said without inflection. Had Cole told him already? Bragged about banging the new chick? It was fine if he had, she just didn’t like not knowing. And Shane wasn’t giving anything away. He simply dipped his chin and strolled out the front door. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking and that left her on edge.

  At least Cole seemed honest about what he felt, whether that was lust or disdain. Though at the moment, on her way to a place where he’d be, that seemed less like a benefit.

  Maybe she wouldn’t be needed at the ranch site today at all. Or maybe Cole would be out on the range, or something.

  While she was waiting impatiently for the bus to arrive, her cell phone rang. Merry’s name popped onto the screen and made her smile.

  “Hey, Merry,” she said in relief.

  “Hey, yourself. What are you doing? Have they crowned you rodeo queen of Wyoming yet?”

  “No, but soon. I can feel it.”

  Merry laughed until she snorted. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m on my way to work. You won’t believe what I’m doing.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t ask. But is it strippergrams? I thought they told you they only hired girls with boobs.”

  Grace leaned against a streetlight and laughed so hard she had to close her eyes. “No, it’s not any form of stripping, so whatever you were about to say about working the pole, drop it.”

  “Like it’s hot?” Merry cooed.

  “Yes. What I’m really doing is working with a location scout. On a Madeline Beckingham movie.”

  “Are you kidding me? Oh, my God. Are there robots and explosions and stuff?”

  “No, this one is about monsters. And cowboys. Hence the location. But it’s more than I could’ve hoped for. An industry job in Wyoming. And the pay is good.”

  “Speaking of—”

  “I’m not moving to Dallas!”

  “That’s not what I meant. Scott called me.”

  Grace’s heart dropped with such suddenness that she felt dizzy. She pressed her shoulder harder to the streetlight to be sure she didn’t fall. “Merry—”

  “He left a pissed-off message, asking if I knew where you were. He says if you don’t call him, you’ll be sorry.”

  “I…”

  “What a dick,” Merry snarled. “Oh, my God. I hate that guy.”

  “I know,” Grace breathed. Lights danced behind her eyes. He hadn’t said anything more. Merry didn’t know.

  “You should’ve left him a long time ago.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “Listen, my bus is almost here.”

  “Okay, I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Call him if you want, but I don’t think you should. I blocked his number, so it makes no difference to me. But I thought you should know he called.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you want me to call him back? Tell him to go to hell?”

  “No!”

  Merry laughed. “Are you sure? I could tell him he’s no good at oral sex. Isn’t that what you said? He tried that alphabet trick on you once?”

  Relief made Grace smile. “Yeah. But I almost had him trained by the end. Almost.”

  “Good for you.”

  “My bus is here,” Grace said, relieved that it was the truth and she didn’t have to lie to her best friend any more than she already had.

  “Okay. Have a great day. Say hi to Madeline Beckingham for me.”

  “Sure.”

  “I love you, Grace.”

  “Me, too,” she said. It was the only response she ever gave. But Merry’s words filled her up with a warm feeling. Such a warm feeling that by the time she stepped onto the bus, her panic had almost faded entirely.

  She had nothing to be unhappy about, after all. It was a beautiful day, nobody on the bus tried to start a pleasant conversation, she had a roof over her head and she was earning money. Plus, she’d fucked out all her stress last night.

  Heck, yeah, she had.

  So when Grace stepped off the bus, she put a little extra sway into her step and clomped her way down the wooden sidewalk.

  “‘Stay gold, Ponyboy,’” she said with a smile as she opened the door to the studio.

  “What?” Eve asked from behind the counter. She looked up from some prints she’d been reviewing. “What’s a ponyboy?”

  Grace flushed. Apparently Eve had never seen The Outsiders. Merry watched it once a year and made Grace watch it, too. “Nothing. Sorry. Just a movie joke.”

  “For…yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  Eve just nodded and slipped the photos back into an envelope. “Ready for a long day?”

  “I’m ready. Are we heading back out to the ranch?”

  “Yes, I’ll drop you off there. I’ll be working at the river.”

  “Great,” she said, not quite meaning it. She wasn’t exactly worried about seeing Cole again, but she didn’t want to put up with his glaring face first thing in the morning. Especially without caffeine. She still didn’t have a coffeemaker, and she’d forgotten to stop for a cup at the gas station.

  But Eve rode to the rescue. Or she drove to it, pulling up to a drive-through coffee place. Grace nearly wept with happiness at the smell. A real latte. My God. It had been weeks.

  By the time they bounced over the last few yards of the ranch road, Grace was ready to face Cole. It was a good thing she’d braced herself, because as soon as she got out of Eve’s car, he looked up from a conversation and his gaze caught hers.

  She raised one eyebrow. He lowered both of his.

  “God,” she muttered. “Men.”

  “You already have man problems?” Eve asked from just beside her.

  Grace winced, realizing she’d muttered out loud. “Kind of.”

  “One of these production guys bothering you?”

  “Nobody bothers me,” Grace said.

  “Good for you. You know any of these people?”

  She glanced around. “Probably not. They’re mostly preproduction. Not a lot of call for makeup.”

  “All right. You’ve got my phone number if you need me. And if I get out of cell range, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. The catering’s been lined up, so we can grab lunch here when I get back.”

  And just like that, Grace was in charge again. Well, not in charge of much. Just her side of things. Clearing up problems. Making phone calls. She’d have to add more minute
s to her phone. Maybe even get a real plan.

  No, that was too permanent. When she went to Vancouver things would be tight, and money uncertain. But… For the first time, it occurred to her that she might have more options. Working in makeup was a pretty narrow field. Sure, there might be a perfect opening now, but there was a good chance she’d find nothing afterward, and she’d probably stay in Vancouver for a little while.

  But preproduction stuff? Location work? That could open up a whole new world for her, at least until she could get settled and figure out her next step.

  If Eve were willing to give her a recommendation, Grace might be able to slip in on the ground floor of a company. And Eve seemed to like her. In fact, she treated Grace like an equal, as if she weren’t a stranger in a strange land. Maybe her time in Wyoming would be less like limbo and more like a season away from her real life. Nothing to be taken seriously, but nothing terrible either.

  She looked up from entering lot dimensions into a laptop and caught Cole looking at her. She aimed her most emotionless stare at him.

  Okay, not a season away from her real love life, apparently. That was as screwed up and nonsensical as ever.

  Cole looked away first. Good. She didn’t know what the hell he was so upset about. She hadn’t taken anything from him. He was still at the ranch, still walking around in his tight, dirty jeans and button-down shirt. Still wearing his scuffed cowboy boots and worn hat.

  He glanced up and found her still looking, then tugged the brim lower before turning away.

  Grace smiled and bent back to her task.

  Did he think she couldn’t handle this? Sex without the niceness? Hell, that was the way she preferred it. He could call her anything he wanted; he couldn’t take back her orgasms. And that was the point of sex, after all. Getting off. So, a complete success.

  Ignoring the fact that she seemed to be trying to talk herself into something, Grace held her smile. But it fell away when her eye caught on a woman who looked familiar.