Close Enough to Touch

by Victoria Dahl

  He didn’t respond, but he was damn glad she’d changed the subject.

  “Well, will you at least saddle my horse for me?”

  “Sure.”

  Riding high on relief, he grabbed her tack and started up the trail to the corral, doing his best to hide any limp. She was right behind him, just a step back. As they moved away from the yard, the noise of people faded and they were suddenly very alone in the breeze. Leaves rustled. Their boots crushed the occasional patch of dried grass. Cole felt every step like a knife of hot steel.

  “You know,” Madeline said, “I’m a little surprised to find you here still playing cowboy, Cole.”

  His head snapped up and he glared at the far tree line. “Excuse me?”

  “I expected you were still in L.A. somewhere. Or at least not here. You had big plans.”

  He actually laughed, her statement was so outrageously awful. “Madeline, I don’t even know what to say to that. I did have big plans. Yes. You’ve got that part right.”

  “So, what happened?”

  He adjusted the saddle he’d balanced on his shoulder, hoping the shift would take some of the weight off his injured leg. “I came to L.A. for you. Did you forget all that?”

  Madeline moved past him with a shrug. “It got too complicated. Even you said that.”

  “It got complicated because you were sharing me with your friends!”

  “Sharing. Exactly. It’s not like you weren’t willing.”

  “I didn’t know what I was getting into. And I didn’t enjoy it.”

  “Hard to believe that when you managed to perform. Chelsea had nothing but good things to say about you. Not that I needed to be told. Your body is a work of art, Cole Rawlins.”

  “Am I supposed to say thanks?”

  She waved a hand. “Look, I’m sorry about how it ended. After that argument, I just assumed you wouldn’t want to stay in L.A. and work for me.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You banned me from your estate. You stopped taking my calls!”

  Now she was the one who stopped, her boots sending up little arcs of dust. “I did no such thing.”

  “I tried to call that night.”

  “I remember that. I was busy.”

  “Busy with Chelsea,” he snapped. That had been the end of it. When she’d gotten pissed that Cole had said no to another threesome. She’d accused him of being an unsophisticated hick.

  She put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t ban you from the estate.”

  “I showed up the next day. God, I even brought flowers, as if I had something to apologize for.”

  “You called me a psycho slut.”

  He just raised an eyebrow, daring her to argue that point. “I was told I was no longer needed. When I said I needed to talk to you, Diane said I wasn’t allowed in and if I stayed she’d call the police.”

  For a moment, Madeline frowned in confusion. Well, her eyebrows dipped a little, but her forehead stayed smooth as silk. Then her eyes widened with some sudden understanding. “Oh,” she said.

  “Is it starting to come back?”

  “I may have mentioned something to Diane about never wanting to see you again. It was late at night and I was still mad. When you left, Chelsea and I argued, too.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he snapped.

  “I don’t think she wanted me at all. She’s the one who asked if you could join us.”

  Cole let his head fall back and stared at the sky. One lonely cloud floated at the edge of his vision. “I have no idea why you’re telling me this.”

  “I just meant that I didn’t intend to make you disappear from my life. I lost my temper. I was complaining about you. That’s all.”

  “And the phone calls? Was Diane in charge of ignoring those, too?”

  Her gaze slid away. She shrugged again. “Look. It was obviously not going to work for us, Cole. You were a small-town boy with small-town ideals. I spent my college years in Europe. I have different ideas about sex and love. I didn’t need you hanging around and making me feel like there was something wrong with me.”

  “Yeah? And you decided that after we’d been together for a month? That realization came to you after I gave up everything and moved to California? For you?”

  “You gave up a minimum-wage job,” she snapped.

  “I gave up a girlfriend and a life and my family!”

  She flushed a little and started moving toward the corral again. “You wanted to come. You needed some excitement. Isn’t that what you said?”

  He followed her, anger taking away any of the pain he’d normally feel from moving so quickly. “I also said I loved you. Do you remember that?”

  “Cole, we gave it a go. I had a life in L.A. and you didn’t like it. That’s it.”

  “Right. A life. And an image. And other people you wanted to sleep with.”

  She reached the fence, but she couldn’t go in. There were too many horses still in the corral, and she was a Hollywood girl, but she knew enough not to go barging in on unfamiliar horses.

  She put her hands on the raw wood of a railing and watched as one of the mares came closer to sniff her. “I’m playing a man’s game here, Cole. In a man’s world. And if I have to do twice the work that any man does to be taken seriously, then I’m going to play just as hard as they do, too.”

  Cole let out a slow breath. “Wow,” he murmured.

  “I didn’t lie to you, you know. I wanted you there. But after a few weeks, I knew it wasn’t going to work. You and I were nothing alike. We didn’t want the same things.”

  “Like Chelsea?” he spat.

  “Yes. Like Chelsea, and art films and those parties I’d take you to where you didn’t understand half the subjects being discussed. You were a cowboy, for godssake.”

  Cole huffed out a laugh, but he knew it sounded more like he’d been punched in the gut. “You know what? That would honestly hurt my feelings if I thought that was really the reason you blew me off. But you’re a damn liar. You never intended for me to be anything more than your personal toy. After all, you weren’t going to take me to London and introduce me to that actor you were living with there, were you?”

  She turned and met his gaze, and he couldn’t quite believe how untroubled her eyes were. She wasn’t ashamed. She didn’t feel guilty. “So?” she said. “It was good between us while it lasted. We had chemistry and excitement. We made each other happy for a few weeks.”

  “What the hell does that matter?”

  “You know why it matters. I want to do it again.”

  Cole tossed the saddle onto the top rail and rolled his shoulders. “This is unbelievable. I can’t even talk to you.”

  “What else do you have going on? You have to hang out with me anyway. Why don’t we both enjoy it to its fullest?”

  “Why? Because you fucking humiliated me, that’s why. I had to stand there with flowers in my hand and beg to see you while your little lackey smirked at me. And then I was alone in L.A. with no work. And after all that, my—”

  He cut himself off. She knew nothing about his father, and he couldn’t even blame that on her. That part was his responsibility.

  “I apologize for embarrassing you, Cole. I didn’t intend to do that. If that’s what this is about, then let me make it up to you.”

  “No,” he said. “That’s not what this is about, Madeline. Excuse me.” He pushed open the corral gate and tossed the bridle around the pinto she’d picked out as her own.

  He could feel her eyes on his back. She was still looking for some weakness. Some opening to get what she wanted. She was good at that. He hadn’t realized it back then, and he knew now that he’d been shamefully easy to manipulate. A twenty-one-year-old kid who’d felt as if he was staring at the sun when he looked at her. Hell, he’d been all ego and testosterone and sex drive. A good ol’ country boy, just as she’d said.

  He’d even told her that he loved her after she’d pulled a trick with her mouth he’d never experien
ced.

  That was what he hated about her. Not for what she’d done to him, but for what he’d done to himself. What he hated about her was that she knew all of it. She knew that he’d bad-mouthed his friends. That he’d scoffed at the idea of being a cowboy for his whole life like his father. That the moment Madeline had crooked her little finger, Cole had walked away from a sweet girl who’d loved him.

  “God, you’re a delicious treat,” Madeline had said that first night. He should’ve paid attention to her words. A treat. Not even a real person. Just something to be consumed.

  He checked the cinches on the saddle and led the horse to the gate. “Need a hand up?” he asked gruffly.

  “Sure.” She sounded subdued, but she’d slipped on her sunglasses and he couldn’t read her eyes.

  “Bring him back to the barn.”

  “Got it.”

  Cole watched her ride off and told himself this would be over in a few days. Granted, they’d be back. But by then, Cole would be in a saddle and out on the range. No way was he taking on this job for actual production. Easy could take that idea and shove it up his ass.

  And if he wasn’t able to ride…

  “That’s not going to happen,” he muttered as he flipped open his phone. No signal out here at the corral, which was no surprise. Half the time he couldn’t even get one bar back in the yard. And he was less and less convinced that Grace would call anyway.

  Maybe she’d tired of him the same way Madeline once had. Maybe he needed to find a girl who’d never known anyone but cowboys. He wouldn’t be such a damned disappointment then.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SHE’D MANAGED NOT TO THINK about him today.

  Okay, that was an out-and-out lie.

  Grace grimaced as she thanked the caterer who’d given her a ride home and headed for the ol’ Stud Farm.

  The truth was that she’d managed not to think about him when she was too busy to think, so she’d volunteered for every single bit of work that Eve had mentioned even as an idea. Their duties on-site were winding down, but there was still paperwork to babysit and copies to make and forgotten items to run out to sites.

  Eve had been taking pictures for the production team at the river, so luckily, most of Grace’s hours had been spent there. She’d only had to stop at the ranch once, and she’d happened by at a lucky moment. Cole had been walking away with Madeline, heading out toward the horses.

  Things were no better between those two, it seemed. Their body language had been tense as they’d talked.

  Thank God his back had been turned, because the sight of Cole had caused Grace to nearly stumble to a stop. How could she already know the shape of him and the way he moved his hands in the barest of expression as he talked? How could she immediately recognize the way he held his jaw, despite the fact that his face was shaded by the brim of his hat?

  And why did that recognition set off some awful resonance inside her chest? It was a terrible, subtle vibration that traveled through her belly and turned her on like a switch.

  “Damn,” she murmured as she let herself into her apartment. It wasn’t quite six yet. Eve had sent her home early. Good thing, because she could relax for a little while without worrying about running into Cole.

  And relaxing was just what she planned to do. But first, she had some errands to run. Starting with the bank, to cash her first check. An hour later, she was the proud owner of a used air mattress and folding chair, a tiny two-cup coffeemaker, one saucepan and ten packs of ramen noodles. The fifteenth was payday, it seemed, and she needed to use a tiny bit of the money to take care of herself.

  Grace cooked up a big bowl of noodles and sat in front of her open window in her new chair to watch the world go by as she ate.

  Well, not much of the world. But at least six cars passed, and a pack of motorcycles rolled by. Two of them parked in front of the saloon. Wednesday was five-dollar pitcher night.

  “I have five dollars,” she said to her empty bowl. She smiled, not at the thought of beer, but at the thought of having a choice. Music glided over as the wind shifted, tempting her further.

  “Oh, what the hell.” She’d started the day off in her underwear in a hallway. That seemed like the kind of day that should end with a beer.

  She carefully cleaned up her kitchen, setting up her tiny coffeemaker in a corner as if she needed to conserve counter space. Then she changed into a T-shirt and her heeled boots and touched up her makeup before heading over to the Crooked R.

  The place was packed.

  A man was behind the bar for a change, though Grace caught a glimpse of Jenny weaving between crowded tables. “Hey, girl!” she called when she spotted Grace. “You sure got Rayleen riled up today!”

  Grace groaned and shook her head. Jenny couldn’t hear her, but apparently Grace’s expression was clear enough, because Jenny laughed so hard, her tray nearly tilted into disaster.

  Smiling, Grace looked around for a place to sit, and her eye caught on Shane, who was standing at the bar. He held up a pitcher and pointed at it, offering to share. She almost shook her head no.

  But she didn’t know anyone else in the place, so Grace tilted her head and began to work her way toward him. Too late, she saw that Aunt Rayleen was at her usual table. And the man Grace had met that morning in her underwear was standing just behind Shane.

  Shane seemed to read the foul word that formed on Grace’s lips, and his eyebrow rose in question. Well, if he hadn’t heard the story, she wasn’t going to inform him.

  But that was wishful thinking, of course.

  “Hey, Grace,” he said, “you putting on daily shows in the hallway now? I can’t wait to see tomorrow’s performance.”

  “Funny,” she muttered as she took the beer he offered. “Thanks.”

  Rayleen gathered up a stack of cards and glanced up as she shuffled them. “Well, there she is. Miss America.”

  “Aunt Rayleen,” Grace said and sighed.

  “I see you’re not too big for your britches after all. Guess there must have been a mix-up this morning.”

  “Hey,” Lewis interrupted, stepping around Shane to offer a hand. “I thought I’d reintroduce myself. I’m Lewis MacIntosh. It’s good to meet you, Grace. Again.”

  She shook his hand and murmured hello.

  “Sorry we weren’t introduced before today. I was down in Denver for a few days. I’m actually moving next month.”

  “Good riddance,” Rayleen interrupted. “Go on. Perpetuate a fraud on some other old woman.”

  Grace leaned a little closer to Lewis and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I see she doesn’t like you much either.”

  Shane laughed, apparently hearing every word. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

  “How so?”

  Rayleen snorted. “Don’t bother flirting with that one, you hussy.”

  “Why not?” Grace snapped. “I am a hussy, after all.”

  “No use. He’s gay as the day is long.”

  “Who?” Grace asked in surprise. “Shane?”

  “Nope. That one’s straight as an arrow. Ain’t ya, Shane?”

  “So they tell me,” he said with a drawl.

  “I’m talking about Lewis. Bet he could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. A goddamn disappointment.”

  “Not such a disappointment for his partners, I’d guess,” Shane said in a low voice, lifting his glass toward Lewis.

  Grace inhaled half a mouthful of beer and spent a full thirty seconds coughing. Maybe she could like Shane after all, if only for the sour expression on Rayleen’s face.

  Lewis was grinning, but his cheeks had gone fantastically red.

  Shane winked. “His ex-boyfriend used to hang around here and lament all the things he missed about Lewis. I can tell you for a fact that his cooking skills were not number one on that list. Not after a few drinks, anyway.”

  “Jesus, Shane,” Lewis said on a laugh. “Shut the hell up.”

  “Yeah,” Rayleen grouched.
“It’s enough to make a woman weep.”

  Grace shot her a glare. “Aunt Rayleen, stop being mean.”

  “It’s all right,” Lewis said. “She’s mean to everyone. If she were nice to me, I’d know she really had a problem with it.”

  “Oh, I’ve got a problem with it!” she barked, but Lewis just rolled his eyes.

  “I love you, too, Rayleen. I know you’re secretly going to miss me.”

  Her mouth screwed up into a bitter pout. “If I do, it’s only because you’re as gorgeous as you are useless.”

  Lewis’s laughter boomed through the bar. “Don’t pout. You’ll be fine. You’ve still got Shane and Cole.”

  “Shane, maybe. I don’t take sloppy seconds.” She scowled at Grace, who tried not to shudder.

  “Oh, good Lord,” she prayed, trying to purge that image from her mind.

  “How do you think I feel?” Shane said, offering her a refill of beer. She took it gladly.

  “She hasn’t actually slept with any of her renters, has she?”

  He lowered his voice. “I can’t speak for anyone in this millennium, but as far as I know, she keeps her hands to herself. Actually, she’s never even disrespectful unless she’s showing off around here. But she always makes a big Thanksgiving dinner and drops off a plate for any of the guys who happen to be alone. Christmas, too.”

  Grace fell silent at that. Maybe the old woman really was just lonely. She’d been married once, a long time ago. A really long time ago. Her husband had died in a car accident. She hadn’t always been this person.

  Grace tentatively approached Rayleen’s table and took a seat as the old woman eyed her.

  “What did you do before this, Aunt Rayleen? You haven’t always owned this place, have you?”

  Rayleen shrugged and slid a pristine cigarette between her lips. Grace had never seen her actually smoke one. As a matter of fact, she smelled of fabric softener, not smoke. “I raised horses when my husband was alive. Owned a gas station in Alaska for a time. Lots of different things.”

  “Alaska? Wow. What was that like?”

  “Cold,” she snapped.

  “I hear there are a lot of men up there.”