The last bit was said so low, the words threatened to sift through her hair before floating by on the wind. Gloria wasn’t even sure she heard him right, all she knew was that the sound of the letters strung together evoked a tingling sensation at the base of her spine.
Dillon’s gaze slid from her to take in the surrounding landscape. “And, I want this place sold as soon as possible.”
* * *
GLORIA GOT IN her car, started up and drove away. God, what was wrong with her? Why was she acting like such a jerk?
Dillon. That’s what was wrong with her. There was something about that man that drove her insane, something about him that got under her skin and made her completely crazy. She took a deep breath and blew it out very slowly.
Well, at the very least, this time he didn’t bring on a panic attack. That was a good sign. Why she’d had one the last time, she still didn’t understand because there’d been no reason for it that made any sense. It had been years—four at least—since her last one. What had that one been about?
Oh, yeah.
She’d gotten trapped in an attic when moving furniture up there for one of her jobs. The small constricted space, full to the rafters with junk, one second she was fine, the next she was on all fours, barely able to breathe. Thank God Faith had been there.
While this one hadn’t been a full-blown attack, Gloria knew how these things worked: the fear of an attack would linger at the back of her mind, festering, reminding her that she was powerless and she’d be living with low-grade fear that an attack could come on at any time, any place, undermining her tenuous sense of security.
Making her feel weak.
Out of control.
It was the worst feeling in the world.
She glanced up into the rearview mirror, watching the buildings of the ranch grow smaller in the dust from the gravel road and she increased the pressure on the gas pedal.
So the contract hadn’t worked out. At least it gave her some time away from Chicago to gather her thoughts. With this contract off the table, what she needed to do was put her head down and get to work. But she couldn’t go home. Her dad was there, and while she loved him fiercely, his manic energy would not be conducive to her well-being. It never had been.
Maybe she should see if she could stay with Daisy for a while. No. Daisy was still a newlywed, she didn’t need to be crashing that party, as if crashing their wedding night wasn’t bad enough. Sighing, Gloria racked her brain, going through her list of friends, ticking off who she could possibly stay with. But there was always something: new baby, marriage trouble, new job, no room...
She’d ask Faith, except living together and working together was never a good idea.
What she needed was a holiday.
She couldn’t afford a holiday.
Unless she stayed in Montana...which wasn’t exactly a holiday.
Gloria’s foot weighed heavily on the accelerator and the rental car flew across a single lane bridge over a meandering creek and then back to the road. Fields, pastures, hills and sky painted watercolor portraits in her peripheral vision.
For a fleeting second, Gloria felt wild and free.
Until she hit a patch of gravel and the car started to slide, almost as if it was winter and she was driving on ice.
“Shit!”
Gloria tugged the wheel and the back end fishtailed as she overcorrected one way and then the next. Time slowed and things became clear: the sound of spraying gravel, the thudding of her pulse through her body, the impossibly blue sky and stark peaks flashing past the window.
Was this the moment of clarity that came before death?
If so, there was a peacefulness to it that seemed out of sync with the utter chaos of what was happening around her.
5
“I CAN LIST it as is,” Max Ozark said, already snapping shots of the yard and barn with his camera phone.
Dillon barely heard him. He was eyeing the progress of the line of dust traveling away from the ranch.
“Dillon?”
“Huh?” He turned his attention back to the real estate agent.
“Do you want me to list it?”
Rubbing his jaw, Dillon surveyed the property. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
“I can take a bunch more outdoor pictures while I’m here.”
“Sounds good.” Dillon pointed to the place where he’d ridden earlier in the day. “You can get a nice panoramic shot up on the bluff over there. Take one of the quads or a horse if you like.”
“I’ll take a quad. You know me—I like my animals four-wheeled.”
“City slicker.”
Max laughed. “Speaking of, what’d you do to piss off the redhead?”
“No idea.”
“Women.”
Max was speaking from experience. Father of five girls, three of whom were married with kids. All girls. Dillon had gone to school with the eldest of them.
“Look, you finish up here.” Dillon handed Max the extra key he’d had cut. “I’m heading back to town. Got some things to take care of.”
“You’re not staying out here till it sells?”
“Nah.”
Focusing on the image on his phone screen, Max said, “Thought you might—you were always staying on when Kenny needed help.”
“Yeah, well.” Dillon adjusted his hat so it sat more firmly on his head. “I helped when I was around. Kenny didn’t have much in the way of family.”
Max looked as if he wanted to say more, but kept his mouth closed, for once. He was a good guy, but loved his gossip, and the fact that Kenny Wells had left the ranch to Dillon was fodder for a town that was always looking for something new to talk about.
He climbed into his F-350 4x4, supposing the latest speculation was that he and Kenny were gay. He chuckled and rubbed his chin at the utter ridiculousness of that thought. Not that he cared what other people did or who they loved—live and let live, and all that shit—but the thought of him and Kenny?
He quickly replaced the thought with one of Gloria. He could still see her as clear as anything, the way she looked lying underneath him: her fiery hair spread out all over the pillow, her pretty lips parted, her eyes closed as flashes of pleasure radiated across her face. Now, that was a fine image to have emblazoned in one’s memory. There were others, too. Gloria’s face turned up to him, smiling wide, throwing her head back and laughing as he led her across the dance floor. That image might be even clearer because that was the moment when he’d decided he needed to take her to bed. A woman who had the ability to let go, to dance with such abandon and laugh with such freedom was a woman he wanted to make love to.
The thing he couldn’t quite figure was what happened to that woman. Where did she go? It was as if he made her up because the woman he woke up to—scratch that, she’d left before he’d woken up—was different. She was cold. Distant. Bossy.
She was...
“Shit!”
Dillon geared down and pulled over because the woman in question was in the ditch standing beside her car, looking a fright and holding her cell phone up as though she was hoping to get hit by a bolt of lightning. He pulled the truck over to the side of the road, parked it and got out. “You okay?”
Without answering his direct question, she said, “I can’t get a signal out here at all.”
He indicated the miles and miles of grazing country. “There aren’t many towers around here.”
She swore beneath her breath and Dillon covered up his smile by kicking the front tire that was bent at an awkward angle and ducking down to check underneath the front end. He stood, dusted his hands on his jeans and said, “Your front axle’s bent. You need a tow.”
Her hands were on her hips and she was staring at him, her lips pressed together, as if it was his
fault. Or maybe not, because that was when he noticed how pale her face was and the remnants of fear lingering in her clear blue eyes. Moving slowly, the way he approached a newborn colt, he said, “I’ll give you a lift to town. Walt’s got a truck at the service station. He can tow it back.”
Her lips moved as though she was going to say something and then stopped. She nibbled on her bottom lip. “You sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way.”
“Darlin,’ it’s either that or you walk back.” He moved to the driver side. “I’m going to town anyway. Hop in.”
As if she had a choice—which she did not—Gloria looked around for other options.
Dammit, the woman was starting to make him mad.
“If you’re so dead set against riding with me, you can wait for Max. He should be along in an hour or two. Or, you could go back to the ranch and grab a horse. Ride back to town.” He didn’t even bother keeping his skeptical smile in check, the image of Gloria...bumping along on an old nag, well that was good for a laugh. But when she still didn’t get in the truck, he climbed in, started it up and rolled down the passenger side window. Leaning over he said, “Get in, Gloria. I don’t bite.”
She grabbed her things and got in. Staring straight ahead, she said, “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
Sneaking a glance at him while he pulled away, she added, “That’s a lie, you know. I remember quite clearly. You do bite.”
* * *
DILLON’S LOW CHUCKLE vibrated around in the cab of the truck as they sped down the bumpy gravel road. What had possessed her to say that? She’d vowed she wouldn’t bring up their night together and at the first opportunity, she reminded him—and herself—of what happened. Not that she needed reminding. What she needed was to forget.
“I wasn’t the only biter that night.”
She laughed. Then stopped herself. It wasn’t funny.
But when the truck’s back end fishtailed along a particularly “gravelly bit” of road and Gloria pressed her foot against the imaginary brake pedal on the passenger side while her knuckles turned white on the armrests, she suddenly forgot everything but the road ahead. “Can you slow down a bit?”
He glanced over at her. “Not used to gravel, huh?”
“I never would have guessed it’d be so slippery.”
“Yep. Can be tricky if you’re not used to it.”
“So, um...can you please slow down?”
“I’ve driven on these roads all my life. I know them like—”
“Please.”
Instead of finishing what he was going to say, he slowed down.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Gloria stared out the passenger window, trying to think of something to say to fill the awkward silence. Her brain played over all kinds of possibilities except none of them were appropriate: Do you have a girlfriend? Do you still think about me? Why didn’t you call? She finally settled on the first appropriate thing that popped into her head. “So why are you selling your ranch?”
Without taking his eyes off the road, he said. “It’s not mine.”
Had she misheard before? “I thought you said it was yours.”
“It was my friend’s. When he passed, he left it to me.”
“Your friend left you his ranch?” Gloria turned in her seat. “Wow. You must have been very good friends.”
“Since we were kids,” he said without emotion.
The bright sun came out from behind a cloud, shining in and lighting Dillon in a way she’d never seen him before. She studied his features—at least those she could see—square jaw covered in short whiskers just around his mouth and down to his chin. Full lower lip. His nose was nice, with a slight bump on the bridge. Dark hair peeked out, curling up beneath his cowboy hat.
What color were his eyes? Brown? She couldn’t remember.
“You done?”
“Excuse me?”
Never taking his eyes off the road ahead, he said, “You done staring?”
Shit. Gloria covered up her faux pas by asking another question. “Why don’t you want it?” Did that sound suggestive? She hurried on to say, “The ranch, I mean.”
The same muscle that had twitched earlier along his jaw tightened right back up again. “Ranches are a lot of work. This one still has a hundred and fifty head of cattle, about a dozen horses. That’s a lot of care and maintenance. I’m on the road pretty much year-round—rodeo circuit and all.”
“Oh.”
“Plus, taxes and the upkeep on a place that size are astronomical.”
“I bet.”
“Cattle prices are always fluctuating. It’s hard to make a go of it.”
“Gotcha.” But Gloria didn’t quite get it because it sounded as if Dillon was trying to convince someone other than her of the reasons why he didn’t want to keep the ranch. And seeing as there were only two of them in the truck...
Plus, that muscle along his jaw was all tense again. Then again, the guy’s friend had died. She couldn’t forget that.
She cleared her throat and said softly, “I’m really sorry about your friend.”
He nodded.
“What was his name?”
“Kenny.”
She chewed on the corner of her mouth. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
In a detached voice, Dillon proceeded to explain how his friend had been diagnosed with a rare form of kidney cancer that took him fast. “Came home from the wedding and found out. He only told me because he needed help with the ranch while he was going through treatments.” Dillon shook his head. “Treatment never helped. Made him weak. It was probably too late anyway.” His nostrils flared as he took a slow deep breath. “He passed a month ago,” Dillon finished.
That’s why he didn’t call after the wedding...
“I’m so sorry.”
Gloria realized she was staring at Dillon’s profile again, at the firm set of his jaw, the granite stoicism of his cheeks. He didn’t look sad, he looked...mad? Pissed off, maybe? Why would he be mad? Was he still upset with her?
Though she hated to admit it, she had been a bitch, treating him in a way he totally did not deserve.
“Um, Dillon?”
“Yeah?”
“I need to apologize.”
“What for?”
“My behavior. Back at the ranch...” She drew a deep breath and blew it out. “After the wedding.”
For the first time since they’d gotten into the truck, he turned his head and eyed her from beneath his hat. “Okay.”
Somehow, Gloria’s thumbnail found its way between her teeth. She removed it and sat on her hand. “I kind of...”
When she didn’t continue, he asked, “Kind of what?”
“Freaked.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“And by ‘freaked’ you mean...?” His words trailed off as he waited for her to explain herself.
“I used to get these...episodes.”
“Like a seizure?”
“Not really. But...” She shrugged. “They come on suddenly and I have no control over them.” She hazarded a smile in an attempt to downplay the traumatic effect the attacks had on her.
“And being with me brought one on?”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Yep.”
He really wasn’t watching the road now. “Damn, Red. Why didn’t you say something?”
She laughed and then caught herself. A panic attack wasn’t a laughing matter so why the hell was she laughing? “I was embarrassed,” she explained. “Plus, I never thought I’d see you again. I didn’t think it’d matter.”
His lips turned down at the corners. “So you
thought it was okay to treat me like an asshole?”
Her automatic response was to deny it. But he was right. He was the first man to really light her on fire and she’d been downright rude to him. “I guess I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to happen again.” She twisted her hands around one another. “I don’t want it to ever happen again. The episodes,” she clarified. “So, I need to be clear that this—” she motioned between them “—isn’t going to happen again.”
He nodded once. “Who the hell says I want it to happen again?”
Wow. It was exactly what she wanted to hear, exactly how she hoped this conversation would go, and yet the words stung.
“Good,” she said. Not meaning it, not even a little.
“Glad we cleared that up.”
* * *
CONVERSATION CEASED AFTER they’d established how things stood between them. Was he playing games with the city girl? Maybe. But Dillon needed her and if she thought all he wanted was to get her back into bed, then she’d be hopping on the next plane back to Chicago and he didn’t want her going back to Chicago.
Plus, seeing her in shock by the side of the road, well there was just something about that damsel-in-distress thing that pulled at his sense of obligation. Not that Gloria-Rose—why did he always think of her in those terms—was a damsel in distress. Quite the opposite. In fact, he’d practically had to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder and carry her off for her to get in the vehicle with him.
An image of doing that very thing waltzed through his mind, spinning and turning, taking him back to the wedding.
Well, one thing was certain, he wasn’t going to pressure her. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do his best to seduce her. That’d be fun. The thought of tempting her and getting her to be the one to decide when they’d fall back in bed together sounded like a fine idea. Hell, the best idea he’d had in a long time.
Schooling his thoughts, he navigated the familiar road back to town and drove straight over to Walt’s Full Service where Walt was out in the yard, playing fetch with his dog. They explained the situation and Walt promised he’d tow it first thing.
Big Sky Seduction Page 5
