What the Bachelor Gets

by Kristina Knight

  This was just about saying good-bye to the pup, though. Seeing Gage was a side benefit that no one needed to know about. Especially not Gage.

  Definitely not Bachelor of the Month Gage.

  God, how could she have forgotten how adorable the man was to the entire population of Vegas? Women would pay to watch him on stage at any of the casinos, doing nothing but sitting. Or standing. God forbid anyone give him a hammer or saw—ticket prices might triple. And here she was jumping to come out to the ranch to see him—scratch that, see the coyote—just because she was bored.

  Callie shook her head. Bored, attracted, and working with the man she’d never been able to resist. What a trifecta.

  She parked her car beneath the oak tree near the barn and left her bag and keys inside. Sliding her sunglasses over head, she stepped into the dim barn and started for the area where Rollie had first set up the crate. It was back in a corner with a bowl of water and something that looked like dog food in another. The pup himself was backed into the corner of the crate watching her approach.

  “He’s actually started responding to Rollie.”

  Callie jumped when Gage spoke, his deep voice causing a little shiver to run down her spine. She spun around as he stepped from the shadowed hall leading into what she remembered were offices—one for Rollie and another that had belonged to Caleb Reeves before he died. Gage certainly looked the part of rancher this evening, from the dusty leather boots on his feet—no longer the Luccheses he’d worn earlier, she noticed—to the faded tee covering his wide shoulders. Still, she couldn’t imagine what Gage would be working on in Caleb’s old office. His focus was on property development, wasn’t that what he’d said? Leaving the running of the ranch to the old foreman?

  Gage watched her, as if expecting her to say something. Callie wracked her brain trying to pick up the conversational thread. Something about responding, but she would not allow herself to respond to Gage. At least, no more than the belly-clenching, toe-curling responses she’d had over the past few days. She was here for the pup.

  “Responding how?” It was the pup’s response to Rollie; that was the conversational thread she needed. The way the little thing was backed into the corner of the crate, Callie couldn’t imagine any kind of interaction.

  Gage stepped closer, but Callie didn’t step away from him. That would be the wrong response in every way she could imagine. He cocked his head to the side. “Rollie flicks water at him, after filling the bowl, and the pup yips in response.” He stepped closer still, and Callie straightened her shoulders.

  “Well, they like water, or at least aren’t afraid of it.” She needed to get out of here. She’d seen the pup, and she knew Rollie would make sure it arrived at the preserve. Her mission was done. “And you might be controlling the temperature in the barn so it isn’t stifling, but it’s still not all that cool in here. I should go. Thank you for letting me come out to see him. And thank you for finding the preserve.”

  “Thank Rollie, he did the heavy lifting on it, including handling a slew of phone calls and emails from the neighboring properties.”

  Callie turned toward the door. “I’ll do that, next time I see him.”

  “Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

  The question stopped Callie at the door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “It’s just dinner.”

  “I have a few things to finish up before Mandy and I set up the spa rooms. I—”

  “Connor came out tonight; you could catch up with him.”

  He just stood there, across the room, not moving any closer, but Callie could feel him closing in. Like the coyote would close in on prey when it was released into the wild. Why did he keep pushing this? For the past few days, Gage had been a near constant in her life. Touring properties, packing and unpacking. Two dinners. He acted like he was interested in her.

  He couldn’t be, though, and she’d been over the reasons she shouldn’t be interested in him at least a dozen times since that morning in his office. This was Gage, who liked a lot of women a lot of the time. Callie had returned to Vegas to rebuild her roots, not start up a going-nowhere fling with her high school crush. Gage wasn’t a good bet, and even though her parents weren’t gamblers she knew all about hedging. She’d put her money on Gage’s building, betting the Oasis would turn her business around. She couldn’t put down another bet on Gage as date material.

  Could she?

  The headline from Connor’s newspaper, and her subsequent reading of the comments section while the nail tech finished her wraps, danced in her mind.

  Not a good bet at all, Cal.

  But the Gage who toured all those other properties, who still ate ice cream with SweeTarts in it, who helped her rescue a wild animal, crashed through the headline. Stomped all over the three thousand comments about Gage’s abs, butt, and bedroom eyes. Because right now he was looking at her in a way she’d never seen him look at anything. Callie’s mouth went dry, and she forgot to breathe.

  “Callie?” How had he gotten so close to her? Gage tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Stay for dinner. Hang out for a while, not because of the business.”

  “I don’t … We don’t have anything in common but the business,” she said, jumping on the first objection that didn’t involve the way Gage looked in his Levi’s or the captivating expression in his eyes.

  “We could talk about old times.”

  “I have to get up early tomorrow.”

  “I’ll grill up a couple of steaks, and I bet there’s a nice cabernet in the cellar.”

  Work, Cal, focus on work. “Mandy and I will be arranging furniture and finishing the decorating for at least twelve hours tomorrow.”

  “All the more reason to have a good dinner tonight.”

  “It’s a long drive back to Henderson.”

  “So you’ll stay here, get a good night’s sleep, and start fresh in the morning.” He put his hand at the small of her back, and they started toward the main house. “Charcoal-grilled steaks, asparagus, maybe a baked potato, and cabernet. No ranch-bred woman can turn down a meal like that.”

  It sounded wonderful, and not just because she’d only eaten half a six-inch sub for lunch before leaving her condo without so much as a protein bar to come out to the ranch to check on a coyote that she probably should have left in that parking garage. She hadn’t needed to say good-bye to the coyote, and boredom was a stupid reason to drive an hour into the desert when she had so many other projects on her plate.

  But boredom hadn’t really driven her out here.

  Neither had the coyote.

  Gage opened the side door, still talking about grilling for dinner and the cabernet choices in the cellar. He didn’t miss a beat as he situated Callie in the living room. Through the layer of cotton in her blouse, Callie’s skin sizzled from Gage’s touch. And then she snapped out of the trance that had taken her from the barn to the house as Gage passed through the door to the cellar.

  “I didn’t come out here because I like you.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Callie covered her hands with her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed. Then she squinted through one to see if Gage had heard. He put his hand over his heart and leaned back dramatically.

  “Straight to the heart, Cal. Damn, your aim has improved.” He worked the pretend-death-stumbling for all it was worth, knocking his shoulders into the doorjamb and then lolling his head back and closing his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant I was out here for the coyote, not you.”

  Leaning against the wall, Gage opened one eye but kept his hand over his heart. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “I just meant I came out to send the pup off in style.”

  “Then I think I should point out that you forgot the streamers and balloons. And you didn’t bring a gift for the guest of honor.”

  “I didn’t … You know what I mean. I didn’t come out here looking for dinner or to spend
time with … ” There was no good way to finish the sentence without either insulting the man or letting him see through the thin veil Callie was determined to keep between them. Gage had to know she’d had a crush on him in school, most of the girls did, but he didn’t have to know that crush had reignited when she walked into his office.

  Gage shrugged. “I get it. But, Cal, it’s just dinner. At my ranch. Where no one will see us together. Maybe you could forget about the all-business thing for a couple of hours?”

  She wanted to. Lord, how she wanted to forget Gage was her investor and landlord. To let him just be Gage for a night and remember what it meant to be his friend. “You said Connor was here?”

  “Sure, drove out into the desert an hour or so ago. Should be back in time for steak.”

  Friends had dinner all the time. And she really didn’t want another salad from the diner down the street from her condo. And she could drown the attraction with an ice-cold shower in a couple of hours just as easily as she could now.

  “I like mine medium rare,” she said. Screw it. Being attracted to the man didn’t have to mean jumping his bones over dinner. Besides, Connor would be here sooner or later. All three of the Reeves men were gorgeous, but Callie wasn’t into multiple partners.

  Gage disappeared down the steps and returned a few minutes later with a rich-looking cabernet. Callie followed him into the kitchen and, when Gage began prepping steaks and potatoes, asked how she could help.

  Pointing to the fridge, Gage said, “Asparagus? I’m good with a grill, not so much a stovetop.”

  Callie shook her head. “And here I thought I was a guest at dinner.”

  “You ask the question, I’m always going to give an answer.” His gaze caught hers, and for a second Callie forgot to breathe. She knew what question she wanted to ask, and it had nothing to do with asparagus, her spa, or his property development business. It had everything to do with why they kept seeking one another out. Callie blinked, breaking the spell.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said and offered herself a mental pat on the back because her voice didn’t hitch or sound too breathy as she relayed the words. Callie dug through the crisper drawers looking for the vegetable. Finding no asparagus, she set about making a salad instead.

  How many times had she been in this kitchen as a kid? At least a dozen, and it always looked the same: grey stone tiles on the floor and countertops, a rough-hewn wooden table with six enormous chairs. Copper pots hung from the ceiling over an island as big as her entire kitchen, and the window at the sink looked out over acres and acres of desert. One side of the island held the cooktop and oven, the other more pots and pans, bowls, and other kitchen aids. As she washed the lettuce, she spotted a few head of cattle on the horizon, and by the time she’d chopped cucumber and tomato and shredded some cheese, a dust trail appeared, heading toward the ranch. It was Connor, on the road that connected the property her father used to own and the Reeves property.

  One of her best memories of Gage was from the night of Caleb’s funeral, when she found him at the little lake. He’d been so raw that night, so wounded by his father’s death. So determined to seem like Caleb’s death didn’t matter. She’d wanted to kiss him. Wondered if kissing him—and maybe doing more than that—would help to heal the hurt. But in the end she’d been too afraid he would laugh or turn her away. Instead, she invited him to her house for dinner. Until she left for college the following fall, Gage had been her friend. Not a secret-telling friend, not a boyfriend. Somewhere in between. He’d always been around. She’d always wanted to be around him. Callie sighed. Even now, she couldn’t quite define the angst that held her back from taking what she wanted all those years ago.

  Gage loaded a tray with steaks and tinfoil-wrapped potatoes and kicked open the back door with his booted foot. As the back door slammed she knew what held her back now: their working relationship. The tentative friendship she could feel growing between them. Was it worth the risk? She’d seen the look of appreciation in his eyes when they were unpacking boxes, caught him watching her over their ice cream cones that first day. Callie might not be as experienced as Gage Reeves, but she knew when a man was interested in her.

  Gage was interested.

  Smoke from the grill wafted by the window as Connor pulled the old Jeep to a stop beside the barn. Well, at least her resolve to keep Gage at arm’s length wouldn’t be tested tonight.

  An hour later, Gage pushed back from the table, a satisfied expression on his face that had everything to with his grilling abilities. Or maybe his idea of a fun dinner was tense silences interspersed with the occasional note of knife against plate. Who knew? Callie finished her wine and thought again about abandoning the table. She shouldn’t have stayed. She should have gotten into her car no matter how much she hated the idea of picking up restaurant food to eat alone in her condo.

  Before she could leave, Connor picked a bottle of liquor from the cabinet in the corner of the dining room and brought it to the table. Unlike the comfortable kitchen, this room was formal, with crown molding at the ceiling, a mahogany table and chairs, and an antique hutch holding delicate dishes. Callie shook her head when Connor offered a glass. She didn’t need scotch or cognac or whatever was in that bottle to dull her senses even more. She stiffened her resolve. That moment in the kitchen, when it seemed as natural as breathing to step into a relationship with Gage, had just been a momentary lapse. Callie wanted—no, she needed—roots. Stability. This room, this house, screamed roots, and Gage might be in Vegas to stay but his history with the women of Vegas didn’t scream “happy family man” to Callie. She kicked herself for bringing his past into it. Her past wasn’t exactly pristine. She’d married a man because he was easy to be around and easy to be without. That didn’t make her a matriarch of virtue.

  There was too much history. Too much at stake. They could be friends, but there would be no benefits.

  “So you do realize dining with Vegas’s Bachelor of the Month is a big deal, right, Cal?” Connor said suddenly. “A million women would claw one another’s eyes out for the chance.”

  “Con.”

  There was a warning in Gage’s tone, but before the brothers could start going at one another, Callie said, “I’m not one million and one, thank you very much. He’s just Gage, the guy who cheated off my trig tests a hundred years ago and helped me unpack a few boxes earlier this week. How’ve you been, Connor?”

  He said something that sounded like “the dude abides,” but Callie had no idea what that meant and decided she had to be hearing things.

  Connor drank from his glass, closed his eyes, and sighed. “Damn, Caleb had good taste in whiskey. I see you’re still buying his favorite.”

  “It’s the best,” Gage said, but the warning tone remained in his voice. He drained his own glass and began stacking plates to take into the kitchen.

  “So why are you here, Cal?”

  She heard boot meet leg under the table, and Connor grimaced. Gage stood, plates in hand, and disappeared into the other room.

  “Well?”

  “Dinner. And saying good-bye to the coyote.”

  “Why are you here, Con?” Gage returned empty-handed, sat, and leaned his elbows against the table. “You didn’t really answer earlier.”

  “The question was how have I been, and I’ve been fine. To answer your question: dinner. And getting away from the city for a while.”

  Tension was thick between the two, and Callie wondered about the undercurrents. She never imagined Gage, Connor, and Jase were loving, sitcom-brother types, but she didn’t understand the emotions that seemed to underline this conversation.

  “How is the newspaper business going?” Callie asked, wondering if she should leave before whatever was happening between Gage and Connor exploded onto the table, too.

  “Can’t complain. A conglomerate just bought my competition and likely has its eyes on Reeves Pub next. My readers voted my brother Bachelor of the Month.” Connor poured anoth
er drink. “What more could I ask for?”

  “You’re the genius who put my name on the list to begin with,” Gage muttered. A light bulb flashed in Callie’s mind. Gage was ticked about the headline. Interesting. He’d have been all over attention like that a few years ago.

  “You’re the pretty boy who thrives on female attention.”

  Gage opened his mouth to speak, but Callie talked over him. “So you took a drive into the desert?”

  “Something like that. And now I’m having dinner with a beautiful woman, and my brother is shooting daggers at me over New York strips.” He pushed away from the table. “And now the dude abides.” He let the door slam behind him, and a moment later his car sped down the drive.

  “What was that?”

  “Just a stupid movie quote.” Gage and Callie sat at the table, just watching one another for a long moment. “Well, that was fun,” he finally said.

  “It wasn’t so bad,” she said. “You know, during the actual dinner.”

  “You mean the uncomfortable silence with the sound of chewing as mood music?”

  Callie grinned and picked up the remaining dishes while Gage grabbed the wine glasses. “Yeah, that part. That was fun.” She waited a beat. “What does 'the dude abides' mean?”

  Gage shook his head. “Just a line from an old movie we used to watch.”

  “Yes, but what movie?”

  They put the dishes into the dishwasher, and Gage shrugged off her question. “We watched a lot of movies while Caleb was chasing after Helena, or Helena was screaming about getting back to whatever casino had a tournament going.”

  “And it means?”

  “Usually it means we’re all in. Whatever the plan, whatever the risk, we’ll be there.” He looked out the kitchen window at the drive from which Connor’s vehicle had disappeared a few minutes before. “This time, I think it means he’ll ride with whatever happens.”