Without a word, he stood and walked out of the room, leaving her wanting to call after him to come back.
Chapter Eight
* * *
CLAIRE WOKE TO the smell of coffee and pancakes. Stiff and sore, especially her battered hip, she made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower. Clean, dry, and feeling a bit more limber, she dressed in simple black slacks with a turquoise top. She slid her re-bandaged feet into her sandals and went downstairs, amazed to see Owen at the stove, dressed in gray slacks, a crisp white dress shirt with a blue-and-gray tie draped around his neck, but not tied. He looked classy and elegant. Not like the man who’d been woken out of his sleep in the middle of the night and pulled on worn jeans and a Henley shirt. No, this Owen hid the ranch owner under a smooth varnish of class and sophistication.
He flipped pancakes with one hand and talked on his cell phone with the other.
“Yeah, the measurements I gave you should work. How long?
“Not good enough. I need you to put a rush on it.”
Without missing a beat, he poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her with a smile.
“Hey, the insurance is picking up the tab. Get it done. I’ve got to go. Give me a call when you’re ready to install it.” He hung up and stared at her.
The unexpected touch of his fingertip along her shoulder made her flinch.
“Still hurt?”
“No, not really. Maybe a little. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I ran up to my place about an hour ago and got ready for work. Called your insurance first thing. They’ll cover your damages.”
“Is it worth them paying, since I have to pay the deductible?”
“I paid the deductible.”
“Owen . . .”
“Claire.”
“But . . .”
“I also negotiated a better deal on your insurance. You’ll get an updated bill and a small refund in a few days. Since Brody has a contractor working on his place, I called him. He’ll have a new double-pane sliding glass door installed day after next. He’ll even send the bill to the insurance company for you.”
“Um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. How do you feel this morning?”
“Achy and slow.”
“Drink your coffee. It’ll help wake you up. I think your pain meds are in your purse.”
“I’ll get them.” She moved to the counter, out of his way, but not far enough that she didn’t feel the pull between them. That weird sense of the morning after churned her stomach with nerves, but she didn’t know why. It’s not like anything really happened between them last night. He brought her home from the hospital. He took care of the broken window last night and this morning, saving her the trouble and money on her insurance. He stayed last night so she wouldn’t be frightened, and he didn’t comment on her childish need to keep the hall light on while she slept.
She let out a sigh, remembering the kiss he planted on her forehead and the intensity in the look he gave her last night. She snuck a peek over her shoulder. He plated up several pancakes, swiped a knife through the butter, and spread it over the stack. He grabbed the foil-covered pan on the back of the stove and spooned out steaming eggs. He caught her watching him and smiled.
“Something the matter?” he asked.
The butterflies in her gut and the voice in her head nudging her to kiss him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Making you breakfast.” He handed her the plate of food and turned back to the stove and prepared another plate for himself.
“Why?”
“I thought you might be hungry. You shouldn’t take those meds on an empty stomach.”
“Did you hear from the police about Dale?”
“They’re still looking for him.”
“So, that is why you’re here.”
“Get used to me hanging around. I’m not taking any chances he comes back to make good on his threat.”
“What if he sees you with me, it confirms his suspicions that I’m important to you, and he hurts me because of that?”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t be with me every minute of the day. You have work. I have work. We hardly know each other.”
“You’ll get to know me. Besides, even if they caught Dale today, I’d still want to spend time with you. How about dinner tonight?”
“You’re serious.”
“We’ll discuss it over breakfast. Come sit with me.”
He walked out of her kitchen and into the dining room and took a seat at her table. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d eaten there with guests. Most of the time, she sat at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. Alone.
She sat next to him and took a bite of the buttery pancakes and closed her eyes with a sigh. “These are outstanding.”
“Rain is the pancake maker in the family. The girls devour them most mornings. I paid attention. When you’re a long-time bachelor who lives miles from town, learning to cook is a necessity.
“Come up to the ranch tonight. I’ll barbeque up some steaks.” He looked sideways, considering something, and said, “I’ll take you out. We’ll have a nice quiet dinner in town before I bring you home tonight.”
“You don’t quit, do you?”
“It’s just dinner, Claire. We both need to eat. Besides, that smile you’re trying to hide tells me you don’t want me to quit.”
She hated to admit having a gorgeous man interested in her, making plans to take her to dinner, or—even better—cook for her made her want to smile. She liked Owen and his easygoing way. She didn’t feel pressured by his confident assertion that she’d fall in line with his meal plans. He somehow read in her that she’d like to spend the evening with him. Like he read her need not to be alone last night and stayed because she wanted him to.
Not ready for an intimate dinner with him at his home, she casually said, “How about Madeira’s in town.”
“I love Italian. It’s a date.”
Her stomach fluttered, and she gave in to the smile. “It’s a date.”
The first one she’d had in nearly a year. The last one she’d gone on because a friend set her up. What an awful experience that turned out to be. They had nothing in common, and the guy seemed to think dinner and drinks equaled sex in the front seat of his car.
Owen sat across from her casually eating his breakfast, making dinner plans, and glancing at her with that sexy gaze that told her how much he wanted her. She had no doubt he’d let her set the pace, but at no time would he back off. Something thrilling to look forward to and embrace if she dared.
After her husband’s betrayal, she’d shied away from men and any hint at something intimate. She’d refused to trust any man with her heart, and all she’d done was put up a wall to keep everyone out and her alone. Not anymore.
She stared across the table and straight into Owen’s amazing blue eyes. She read the challenge and accepted it.
“I have a feeling I’m going to be in desperate need of a glass of wine by the end of the day. I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” he said in his casual way that wasn’t casual at all. Owen reminded her of a predator stalking his prey, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Funny, for the first time in years, she felt wanted in a way that went beyond sex. Though she knew he wanted that, something about the way he stared and studied her told her he wanted a hell of a lot more. She wanted to surrender to him all he silently asked, because Owen wasn’t the type of man to demand what he wanted. Either she gave of herself freely, or he’d back off, because he didn’t want anything she wasn’t willing to give with her whole heart.
“Eat your food. We need to leave soon so I can get you to work on time.”
“I’m so sorry, you must be late. I didn’t think. You probably start work much earlier.”
“It’s no problem. My assistant is covering the office. I don’t have to be in court unt
il two.”
“What kind of case are your working on?”
“I represent all kinds of people and cases, but today it’s a shoplifting charge. One of my client’s daughters is quite the klepto. She’s been caught five times. God knows how many times she didn’t get caught. So far, she hasn’t had to serve jail time. Her father usually buys her way out of it, but this time she took a twelve-hundred-dollar sapphire ring.”
“Her father can afford to buy her whatever she wants and doesn’t understand her compulsion to steal,” Claire guessed.
“Exactly, but he loves her and wants to see her get the help she needs. I’m trying to work out a plea deal. We’ll see how it goes and if the judge will be lenient.”
“You care about her.”
“She’s a sweet kid who doesn’t deserve to sit in juvenile detention for three months because she can’t control her impulses. She needs a psychiatrist and tools to help her fight her compulsion. She knows it’s wrong, she just can’t help herself.”
“You’ll do the best you can. If you talk to the prosecutor and explain her to him the way you did to me, he’ll give you the deal.”
“Thanks for the optimism, but the prosecutor on this case is looking for convictions, not necessarily what is best for the accused.”
“You’ll convince him. If not, you’ll convince the judge.”
“Maybe I should take you with me to court. One look at you, and they’ll be putty in your hands.”
“I doubt it.”
“Why? I am.”
“Hardly. You’re just worried Dale will come back here.”
“You know that’s not the only reason I’m here.”
“I’m still trying to figure you out.”
“No. You’re convinced I’m lying just because I’m talking. Take your ex-colored glasses off and see me. Don’t judge me based on your asshole ex’s actions. I’m not him. Listen to the words coming out of my mouth and know they are the truth. I won’t lie or manipulate you to get what I want. That’s not my way. At least, not anymore. Back in the day, when I was that guy my cousin, Dylan, talked about, yeah, I’d say anything to get a woman in my bed and out as quickly as possible. I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve seen what two people who love each other can share.”
“Your brother, Brody, and Rain.”
“Yes. They’ve had a hell of time getting to where they are now, but two things hold them together more than anything else. They love each other fiercely, and they are honest with each other always.
“Growing up with my old man, well, let’s just say I learned what not to do when it comes to women and children. I’ve fought damn hard to break free of my past and realize my life isn’t his life. I am not him. I am not your ex.”
“I’m sorry if I made you think I don’t trust you.”
“You don’t. Not yet. And that’s okay. Just stop assuming I’m only out to hurt you, or take something you’re not willing to give. If you’re not interested, all you have to do is say so. I can’t say I won’t be disappointed, but I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.”
“I am interested,” she said more boldly than she actually felt. “Please understand, my caution comes from experience. You’ve already proven you’re not like the asshole. I’m glad you came last night. I’m glad you’re still here this morning.”
“See, I’m not so hard to like,” he teased, putting her at ease after the tense moments they’d just shared.
She thought about the years she’d spent with her ex and realized they’d never had such an honest conversation like this in their whole marriage.
“What’s that face?”
“I like you a lot.”
“The face you made says otherwise.”
“Just thinking about the past and you and right now. I’m not the naïve girl I used to be.”
“You’re a beautiful woman.”
She smiled because he meant the compliment, unlike her ex, who used to say such things to distract her from his lies and deceits.
Stop thinking about him and concentrate on the man in front of you.
She’d finally seen the light and decided to move on with her life instead of letting the asshole’s actions keep her from doing so because she feared getting hurt again. Not anymore. She really did like Owen and wanted to get to know him better.
Owen held up his glass of orange juice. “To diving in with our eyes open.”
She clinked her glass to his and gave him a genuine smile free of any trepidation. “I’ll drink to that.”
Chapter Nine
* * *
OWEN PARKED THE truck outside Claire’s Café and Bookstore. He studied the storefront like he was seeing it for the first time. He’d never really noticed all the details. Cream walls with hunter-green trim lent a cottage feel to the small two-story building. Ladies sat at four of the six bistro tables out front, drinking coffee and tea. Some read books, others chatted with friends. All of them greeted Claire with a wave or hello as she stepped out of the truck with Owen and walked to the front door. Several leaned into their friends and whispered, their eyes darting from him to Claire. Yeah, the small-town grapevine was alive and well. By mid-afternoon, everyone in town would know he’d driven Claire to work. By evening, they’d set odds on how long until he proposed, would it be a May or June wedding, and how long before a little one was on the way.
Funny, none of it mattered to him. Even more disturbing was how much he wanted all those things. The thought of sharing them with Claire didn’t stir any desire to flee, but to move closer and claim what he wanted.
They entered the store, announced by the bouncing silver bell over the door. The smell of coffee, pastries, and cinnamon filled the air. Despite breakfast this morning, his stomach rumbled and his mouth watered.
Several people occupied the tables inside. A couple of customer’s stood at the back, perusing the bookcases and reading.
“Morning, Claire,” Gayle called from behind the counter. Owen had been in her husband’s geometry class in high school. It seemed a thousand years ago, but Gayle didn’t look a day over forty, though she must be in her early fifties.
“Hi, Gayle.”
Claire limped to the counter. Gayle saw the bandage on Claire’s elbow and sticking out of her shirtsleeve. She rushed over and took Claire by the shoulders, making her wince. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Someone hit me with their car last night.”
That drew stares from many of the customers. If people hadn’t heard about Claire’s visitor last night already, they would now. He didn’t need to worry about leaving her at work. Once word spread, everyone would look out for her. Still, he hated to leave her here. He couldn’t be with her every second of the day, but he needed to know she’d be safe.
“Did they catch the guy?”
“Not yet,” Owen said. “I’d appreciate it if you made sure Claire isn’t alone in the shop and doesn’t go anywhere alone until they find this guy.”
“You know Owen, right?” Claire asked.
“Sure do. Don’t you worry. I won’t let her out of my sight. Can I get you anything, Mr. McBride?”
“No, thanks. And your husband generously gave me a C minus in his class. Please, call me Owen.”
Gayle smiled and her cheeks pinked. “He must have recognized your potential.”
“I didn’t make it easy on him.” In fact, he’d lived up to the badass McBride name for too many years and wondered how many other people saw something better in him back in the day when he’d been nothing but self-centered and cocky for no good reason.
“I don’t know any teen who makes anything easy.”
“Yeah, well, I especially went out of my way to make life hard on myself and anyone around me.”
“You landed on the right side of the law,” Claire said from beside him. He appreciated her support.
“We got a new shipment of books, and
the order from that boutique you love came in, too.”
Claire’s face lit up and her smile transformed her face. She’d smiled at him this morning, but not like this. He wanted to see that carefree, excited smile on her face more often.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” she said.
He had work to do, but if she wanted him to wait, he’d wait.
Man, you’ve got it bad.
His gaze on her pretty bottom as she rounded the counter confirmed his thoughts. Hell yes, he wanted her bad. Like no one he’d ever dated, he felt drawn to her. She made him feel like a horny teenager, but also like a man who’d found someone special. The first he understood. The second scared him, but not enough to back off. Hormones won out over self-preservation. If Claire figured out just what kind of power she held over him, God help him.
She stood by the espresso machine, making some coffee concoction, and glanced over at him with a shy smile.
Maybe if they were both nervous about this situation it wasn’t all bad. They’d get through this awkward discovery period and find a rhythm and a comfortable companionship like his brother and Rain shared.
“Hey, can I borrow your phone?” he asked.
“It’s in the right pocket of my purse.”
He pulled the bag closer and found the phone, along with a pack of wintergreen mints, a dark brown hair band he hoped she never used to bind up the long mass of waves cascading nearly to her waist, and a chocolate mint protein bar.
He tapped from one screen to the next until he had her contacts list open. He added his name, address, and all his phone numbers: home, cell, office. He took his phone from his pocket and did the same, adding her home and work address and work phone number he took from the business card on the counter.
She set a tray with two cups in front of him and a white bakery bag.
“Here. Type in your home number and cell for me.”
Falling for Owen Page 5
