Like a flower pivoting toward the sun, she slowly turned and watched him stride the rest of the way down the hall, step into his apartment and nudge the door shut with his hip.
Lordy. She dragged in air and pressed a hand to her chest. That image was permanently burned into her retina, now. When she closed her eyes, there he was in all his glory, an everlasting hologram—wet hair in wild disarray, dark stubble giving him a rakish look.
She’d never seen those broad shoulders and powerful arms when they weren’t covered by a shirt. Or his shapely pecs. The drops of moisture clinging to his chest hair had quivered with each breath. He’d been breathing fast, too, working those six-pack abs. And then she’d been shown the flip side—his muscular back and his tight buns shifting beneath the towel, thighs and calves flexing as he beat a retreat.
She made her way to her apartment in a daze. The aroma of his piney soap and shampoo greeted her. She followed the scent to her bathroom where it was strongest. The fog was beginning to clear from the mirror but the shower stall was still beaded with water. Taking a deep breath, she left the bathroom and located her phone.
By the time she returned to the bakery, she was breathing normally. But the potent image of Wes lingered. How the hell was she supposed to deal with that?
Chapter Seven
Wes finished with his last client and texted his dad in the late afternoon. His dad was over at Kendra’s but said he’d come home immediately for the consultation on Banjo’s foreleg.
The gentleman’s ranch as his dad called it, was down a winding dirt road. Wes hadn’t been on the road for more than a week and it had been graded since he last drove it.
The ranch house looked more lived in, too. The front porch had four rockers on it and flowers bloomed in newly created beds on either side of the porch steps.
A path around to the rear of the property had been weeded and raked. His dad had a studio back there and had made good use of it since moving to Eagles Nest. He devoted several hours every morning to his art.
Wes parked next to the house and was climbing the porch steps when his dad rode in on Fudge. Wes came back down the steps. “Place looks great!”
“Thanks. Stole your horse.” He reined in the glossy bay and swung down from the saddle.
“I’m glad you did. Thanks for giving him some exercise.” He walked over and hugged his dad. The guy looked ten years younger. Clearly he’d made the right decision in selling the Lazy S so he could spend time with Kendra and devote himself to his art.
“You’ll get back to riding once you settle into a routine. In the meantime, Pete and I will see that Fudge doesn’t get barn sour.”
“Thanks, Dad. Matter of fact, I asked Ingrid if she’d like to go riding and she’s game. We might even go this Sunday.”
“Glad to hear it.” His father started toward the barn with Fudge, and Wes fell into step beside him. “She can ride Banjo unless he’s not up to it.”
“Thanks. If not Banjo, maybe Pete would loan me Clifford.”
“Or ask Kendra for a horse. I assume you’d ride on her property.”
“That was my thought. Is it strange, not being surrounded by acres of your own?”
“Different, that’s for sure.”
He glanced at his dad. “Claustrophobic?”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly. But I’ve been in contact with the folks who have the land to the west of me.”
“See, I knew it. You’re a land baron. Always have been.”
“It’s a steal, Wes. Unimproved, not so much as a shack on it. They live back East somewhere. Bought it as an investment twenty years ago. I’ve made an offer. I think they’ll take it.”
Wes laughed. “I’m not the least bit surprised that you’re adding to your holdings down here. Whatcha going to do with it?”
“Nothing for now. I just…like having it there.”
“Did you tell Kendra about this potential land purchase?”
“She knows my every move, son. Other than a romantic surprise now and then, I don’t keep anything from her.”
“That’s good. That’s real good.”
“It is. I can tell her anything. She never flinches.”
“Whereas your kids, on the other hand…”
“Aw, hell, you’re entitled to flinch. You’ve put up with me all these years.”
“And you’ve put up with us. I’m sure we’ve given you a lot of reasons to flinch.”
“Not as much as you might think.” He ground-tied Fudge. “Do you have another appointment? Because if you’re on a schedule, you can examine Banjo while I tend to Fudge.”
“No more appointments today. I’ll get the grooming tote and help you with Fudge. My horse, after all.”
“He’s also part of the family. I don’t mind keeping track of him for you.”
“I appreciate that.” Wes walked into the six-stall barn. Seemed tiny after the Lazy S. He located the grooming tote in a cubby that served as a pseudo tack room. Quite a change from the layout his dad had owned in Spokane.
They worked in tandem as they had for years on the Lazy S. Wes put away Fudge’s saddle and blanket while his dad brushed the dust and sweat from the gelding’s coat. Since that was a one-person job, Wes leaned against the barn and asked about the latest scratchboard project.
“It’s coming along. You can check it out after we’re done here.”
“I’d love to.” The talented song of a mockingbird drifted from somewhere out behind the house. A breeze sighed through the tops of the pines surrounding the house and barn. Peaceful. So different from the hustle-bustle of the Lazy S. “I gathered from what Pete was saying yesterday that he’s happy with his job.”
“He loves it. His boss is a single lady.”
“No kidding? I didn’t know that.”
“Pete said she got the ranch as part of a divorce settlement. She doesn’t know much about ranching but she wants to learn.”
“She has the right foreman, then.”
“Pete says she’s nice. I haven’t met her yet.”
“I’m glad he landed in a good spot. Oh, and I found out from Michael yesterday that their new house should be done by September.”
“Fingers crossed it’s before snow flies. I think it will be, though. Everybody’s on a good trajectory except…”
“Gage.” Wes was always reluctant to introduce the subject, but his dad seemed to want the conversation to go in that direction. “What do you hear from him?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to Gage. A phone call on his birthday. That might have been it.
“He lets me know when he’s moved from one job to another.” His dad finished with the brush and picked up a towel for a final wipe-down. “Mostly it’s on a ranch, but if he can’t get that he hires on with a construction crew or tends bar. He calls himself a Renaissance Man.”
“Fancy name.”
“Fancy name for a guy who doesn’t know what the hell he wants from life. He worries me. Gage is the only one of you kids who makes me flinch these days.”
“Has he said whether he’s planning to check out the new homestead?”
“Not specifically. I told him we packed up a couple boxes of the stuff he’d left at the Lazy S. He promised to come fetch it, but didn’t say when.”
“Well, it’s the start of the busy season for ranchers. He probably wants to make that money while he can.”
“Could be. I just wish…” He shrugged and returned the towel to the grooming tote. “Let’s go see what Banjo has to say for himself.”
Banjo had a simple sprain and Wes recommended keeping his foreleg wrapped for a day or so. After he finished up with Banjo, he walked with his dad to the studio. The new project was in the beginning stages, but he had no trouble recognizing that it was a life-sized rendering of a large eagle’s nest, complete with mother, father and a couple of eaglets.
“Dad, you can’t let some tourist buy this and cart it back East somewhere. It needs to stay in this town.”
“I had the same thought this morning. I think it belongs in the Raptors Rise lobby.”
“Great idea.”
“But I don’t want Zane buying it. He has more critical line items in his budget. I’ll donate it to the cause, but that leaves me with no large piece to hang in the empty spot at the GG. Michael likes having something there now that folks are used to it.”
“Then how about this? Put it up on the wall at the GG with a Not for Sale sign, just so the wall’s not blank. Then tell Zane you’ll be donating it to his organization as soon as you’ve created another large piece to go in its place.”
His dad nodded. “That could work. In fact, we could hang a little sign beside it explaining where it will go and promoting Raptors Rise.”
“You might want to make prints of different sizes for the Country Store. And it’s a natural for those note cards Roxanne’s had printed up.”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “It is. You’d think I would have considered all that when I decided to create this, wouldn’t you?”
“You didn’t?”
“No, sir. It just seemed like a challenging project with the texture of the nest and the bird feathers and all.” He glanced at a small clock on his desk. “Yikes, I need to motate. I’m due to pick up Kendra in thirty minutes.”
“For what?”
“Seeing a movie in Bozeman tonight.”
“Cool. Have fun.”
“We always do. Hey, thanks for coming out to check on Banjo. Let me know if you and Ingrid decide to go riding.”
“I will.” He hugged his father goodbye and headed out to his truck.
He had to smile as he drove back to town. He’d been prepared to accept an invitation to dinner or at least a beer on the porch. But his dad had made plans with his lady.
After standing by for years watching his kids fall in and out of love, it was his turn and Wes was the one with a free evening. Yesterday he’d exchanged phone numbers with Ingrid, so on impulse he pulled into the parking lot of the Eagles Nest Diner and texted her. I owe you a thank you for this morning’s shower. I’m at the diner. How about if I order dinner and bring it over?
She might be reluctant after the weird way they’d ended the previous night. Then again, she might not. He still didn’t know what her quick kiss had meant. Maybe during dinner he could find out. He only had to wait a few minutes for her reply. That would be nice. Thanks.
After a exchange of texts to find out what she wanted, he climbed out of his truck and walked into the diner.
Twenty minutes later he was driving home. He parked and took the stairs quickly with his bags of food. He stopped by his apartment long enough to ditch his keys, wallet and hat. Grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge, he made tracks for her apartment and gave a quick rap on the door.
She came to the door in bare feet, a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. Her hair was pinned on top of her head but was starting to come down.
She looked beautiful.
“Thanks for bringing dinner.” She stepped back so he could come in, although she didn’t hold his gaze for long.
The TV was on. “Whatcha watching?”
“The Food Network.”
He chuckled. “Of course you are. And likely getting hungry while you waited for me to show up with dinner.”
“Not a problem. I’ll turn it off.” She picked up the remote.
“You don’t need to. I’ve never watched the Food Channel before. Is it interesting?”
“This one is. It’s a competition to see who can build the tallest layer cake without it falling over.”
“I’d like to watch that.” He put the bags on the coffee table in front of her sofa. She’d already brought out plates and silverware. “Want one of these beers?”
“Better not so close to my bedtime. Like you said last night, one beer and I’ll fall over. But the food smells delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re so welcome.” He started pulling out the containers. “I haven’t been home all day. Did you happen to notice whether a plumber was here?”
He glanced up when she didn’t respond right away. Were her cheeks a little pink?
“He was here. I saw the truck about two this afternoon, so I stopped the guy before he left around three. He said you were all set.” She dished her food onto a plate. “This salad looks great. Tomatoes are finally in season.” She glanced at his dinner. “Not a salad guy?”
“Not especially. It’s okay but I’d rather have fries.” He smiled at her. “I’m glad you were free for dinner. Having someone to eat with is nice.”
“Uh-huh.” She hadn’t met his gaze since he’d come into the apartment and she was definitely blushing.
Was she embarrassed because she’d caught him in the hallway in just a towel? The unexpected encounter had tripped him up at the time but he’d gotten over it when he’d noticed the expression on her face. It had done wonderful things for his ego. Maybe if the situation had been reversed, he’d be the one reacting more like she was doing.
Mentioning it wouldn’t help, though, so he sat down.
“I’m going to get some water.” She ducked into her kitchen nook and came back with a full glass. Then she settled down on the far end of the sofa and picked up her plate.
He followed her lead. “I’m starving. I skipped breakfast and didn’t have much for lunch, either.”
“Then I’m glad you’re having a good dinner.”
“Thanks for sharing it with me.” He tucked into his meal while he watched the cake towers rising on the screen. Then one tower tilted and went down. “Wow. Good thing they gave each contestant a lot of room for fallout. What a mess.”
“That’s the appeal.”
“I can see that.” He continued to eat as the other three contestants added more layers. He glanced at her. “Is your food okay?”
“Mm-hm.”
But she hadn’t polished off much of her meal and he was nearly finished. He didn’t remember her being a slow eater yesterday. When he’d cleaned his plate, he set it on the coffee table and picked up his beer. “Are you sure the food tastes okay?”
“It tastes fine. And I appreciate you bringing it. I’m just not very hungry.”
He frowned. “I’m confused. If you weren’t hungry, why did you agree to have me bring dinner?”
“Because—” She glanced at the TV and picked up the remote. “Do you mind if I turn this off?”
“Go right ahead.”
After clicking the remote, she swiveled so she was facing him. “I thought it would be a good time to talk and I was hoping I could eat, but…” She shrugged.
She was clearly upset. If he hadn’t been so focused on food when he’d arrived, he might have noticed earlier. He put down his beer. “Is this about last night? Or this morning?”
Pink tinged her cheeks again. “This morning was just a crazy accident.” Her gaze skittered away.
“I never dreamed you’d come upstairs.”
“I forgot you might be in the shower.” She swallowed. “It’s not important. It’s not like it will ever happen again.”
“True.” Although unless he’d lost all his powers of observation, that meeting in the hall this morning had affected her. She might want it to happen again, whether she’d admit it or not.
“Anyway, last night I said I’d explain about the poster and I—”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.” She hesitated. “Especially after last night. I kissed you.”
“I noticed.”
“But I shouldn’t have.” Her color was still high.
“Why not?”
“Because I just broke up with my boyfriend. He cheated.”
Ouch. “That explains the poster. How long ago did you break up?”
“Three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” That wasn’t very long. No wonder her emotional reactions were topsy-turvy. “Is he in town?”
“He’s in Boston.”
“Ah.”
“The point is, I’m kind of a mess right now.”
“I can understand that.” Unfortunately, she was also tempting as hell.
She looked at him with her Caribbean blue eyes. “Could we just forget about that kiss?”
Not on your life. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good. That’s good. And, um, I hate to be a bad hostess, but…it’s past my bedtime.”
“Right.” Now there was a loaded subject. He picked up his empty plate. “I’ll just—”
“You can leave it. I’ll clean up.”
“Oh. Okay.” He put it down again. “I’ll grab this stuff and get out of your way.” He gathered the food containers and his empty beer bottle before stuffing them in the bag.
“Thank you for dinner.”
“Anytime.” He picked up the bag and the unopened beer. “Thanks for the company.” Flashing her a smile, he headed out the door.
He was glad she’d told him about the ex. It gave him a much better idea of where he stood, and explained why she was sending mixed signals. She was clearly attracted to him, but it was perfectly natural that she’d resist that attraction so soon after a breakup. That was fine. He had all the time in the world.
Chapter Eight
Having Wes in her apartment had been unsettling, but Ingrid was ultimately pleased with how the discussion had gone. She’d cleared the air and now they could move forward as friends.
That was important because she enjoyed being with him. He gave off good energy. His parting smile stayed with her as she cleaned up the dishes and got ready for bed.
She slept better than she had since her Boston trip. She woke up in a good mood, roused from a lovely dream, but she lost the thread of it when her alarm chimed.
Then she stepped in the shower, where the pine fragrance of his shampoo lingered, and her dream came back in vivid color. Oh, my. Her subconscious and her libido had partnered for quite the episode involving Wes.
But sultry dreams about Wes were a vast improvement over the icky nightmares about Mark she’d been having for the past three weeks. As long as she didn’t act on those dreams, her fantasy life was nobody’s business.
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