Slow Hand

by Victoria Vane

  “You actually grew up like that?” Nikki was incredulous. “With no Internet or cable?”

  “That’s right. We never had much idle time anyway after the work was done around here.”

  “It was probably for the best,” she said. “You got into law school and I barely graduated high school—a fact I’ll gladly blame on MTV. Took me five years to finally get my act together.”

  “And how did you do that?”

  “I enrolled in college after I moved in with my grandparents, then waitressed my way through school. Took me six years to get a bachelor in business administration. Now I have a glamorous job processing insurance claims. Not exactly the dream career I’d hoped for.” She sighed. “But then life is all about settling, isn’t it?”

  “Is that what you think? That you have to settle for less than what you really want?”

  “I do now,” she said softly. “I’ve come to realize what I really want will always be out of reach, so I am trying to be content.”

  “That’s too bad, sweetheart.” He squatted down beside her, meeting her eye to eye. She swallowed hard. He had the most beautiful crystal-blue eyes framed by thick, black lashes. And that chin dimple. Sweet Jesus. He was temptation on a stick.

  “Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong direction.” He grasped her chin, staring deeper into her eyes, inciting sparks low in her belly. “I’ve found that what I really want is often right under my nose.” His gaze dipped to her lips.

  She knew he was waiting for her invitation. Her pulse raced wildly, but this time she looked away. Who knows where another kiss could lead. The situation was growing far too dangerous.

  “After all this?” She swallowed hard. Was he playing with her? He’d just held her hair while she puked. “You can’t possibly mean that,” she protested.

  “But I do,” he insisted. “In Denver I thought you were a hot mess. Now I think you’re about the hottest mess I’ve ever seen.” His hands dropped to her shoulders and rested there, still waiting for her to initiate the next move.

  She didn’t know whether it was the steam from the shower or the look in his eyes but it was getting hot as Hades. If she were truly the brazen type, she’d have stripped down and asked him to join her in that shower, but she was only bold in her fantasies. Unfortunately they’d already begun to include him—like in the shower just the day before. She’d wanted him then all right…and now here he was. She suspected he’d be a helluva lot more satisfying than that shower massager.

  Her gaze darted to the shower. Stop it, Nikki!

  “It’s getting really steamy in here, don’t you think?” He wiped the damp strands of hair from her brow, his crystal eyes holding hers captive. He still made no move to leave.

  Breaking eye contact once more, her gaze trailed over his big, strong arms. How easy it would be to just let herself fall into them. Right here. Right now. In this moment he’d be there to catch her, but later? She just couldn’t take that kind of leap—not while stone sober and thinking straight.

  “Yeah. It is,” she agreed. She stood with a nervous laugh. “And I’d hate to waste any more of that glorious hot water.”

  “You need anything else?”

  She wondered what anything else implied. Scrubbing her back, maybe? She suppressed the impulse to ask.

  “Maybe just a towel?” she suggested.

  “Sure thing.” He opened a linen cabinet and pulled out two thick terry towels. “That all?”

  She took the towels. “Yup. I’m fine. I promise I won’t be long.”

  She flicked a glance to the door. This time he took the hint, but paused after two steps, raking his eyes over her over again and turning her insides to jelly. “I’m patient, Nikki. I’ll be here…whenever you’re ready.”

  What the hell did that mean? She stared after him, feeling a pronounced thud in her chest. Swagger and a silver tongue to boot? Shit! Nikki Powell, you are a goner.

  Chapter 7

  Once she’d showered and changed, Nikki felt like a new person, and far more prepared to deal with the challenges the day would bring. Foremost, she intended to quash the impression that she was easy game. No, indeed-y. He could look and lust all he wanted, but Nicole Powell of Decatur, Georgia, was off-limits to hot cowboy lawyers. There was no way in hell she was going to return home with her tail between her legs all because she’d let him put his there.

  Wanting to look hot but not wanting to look like she’d tried, Nikki donned a pair of tight low-rise Wranglers and a clingy sweater over her fifty-dollar Victoria’s Secret add-two-cup-sizes Bombshell bra, last year’s Valentine’s present to herself. She pulled on a denim jacket and a pair of well-worn Justin Ropers, remnants from her old honky-tonkin’, boot-stompin’ days.

  She went light on the makeup and pulled her wavy brown hair into a loose braid that hung over her shoulder. It was a casual, girl-next-door look that she carried off well. It was also one that men liked—at least men like Wade.

  She made up the bed, grabbed her bag, and opened the door to find him leaning on the jamb. The effect, the sheer and virile maleness of him, nearly bowled her over.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Yes. I do. Thanks.”

  “You look much improved.”

  His eyes drifted over her, his sexy mouth quirking at one corner. She was fascinated by that mouth. His kisses had turned her inside out. She remembered that too.

  She gave a dry laugh. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment.”

  “Believe me, it is. C’mon. Breakfast is waiting.”

  She clutched her protesting stomach. “Maybe just coffee for me.”

  She followed him to the staircase leading to a huge vaulted living room. The floor to ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking vista of countless mountains etched in shades of blue and gray, capped by crowns of pristine white. She paused on the landing to take in the view.

  “I can’t believe all that sits right outside your door!”

  “The ranch is in the heart of the Ruby Valley,” Wade said. “We’re surrounded by seven mountain ranges and have some of the best grazing lands around. I guess I’ve come to take the landscape for granted.”

  “I can’t believe you want to sell,” she remarked incredulously.

  “Stupid as hell, isn’t he?” replied a gravelly baritone from below.

  The body attached to the voice came into view as soon as they descended the stairs. He wasn’t as tall as Wade, but bigger, more weather-beaten, and doubly imposing. Maybe that last part was due to his expression—as hard and rugged as the mountains in the backdrop.

  Wade’s head jerked in his direction. “Mornin’, Dirk.”

  She noted that neither of them smiled, but she’d been forewarned about their mutual hostility.

  “Mornin’? Hell, it’s closer to noon. Some of us actually work around here. The ol’ man and I have been moving cattle for the past five hours while you’ve been lazing in bed.” He raked over Nikki with a disapproving stare.

  “Hold it right there,” she blurted. “I’m not his girlfriend if that’s what you think. I’m a client.” She looked to Wade, “Or will be as soon as I get a few things straightened out.”

  “A client?” Dirk’s mouth twisted on the word. “Since when did my little brother start bringing clients out to the ranch?”

  “Since they needed a place to stay,” Wade replied. “Miz Powell’s here because her father recently passed away and she lost her wallet on the trip up here. Nikki, this rude asshole is my brother, Dirk.”

  Dirk’s expression softened at Wade’s explanation. He tipped his hat with a look of chagrin.

  She stepped forward and extended her hand. His gaze met hers. It was then that Nikki noticed he and Wade had the same beautiful eyes. She also noticed the ugly burns on the right side of Dirk’s face. It took an effort not to stare.


  He accepted her hand with a brief squeeze of his own. “Sorry for your loss, Miz Powell. Welcome to the Flying K.”

  “Please, just call me Nikki.”

  Dirk grunted something unintelligible before turning back to Wade. He’d resumed the look of a pit bull preparing for a fight. “The only asshole is the one who would give away the family farm.”

  “Seven point eight mil’ is hardly a giveaway.”

  “You can’t put a price on four generations of blood, sweat, and tears. You’ve got no friggin’ loyalty, Wade.”

  Wade’s expression darkened, his lips compressed. The testosterone levels were rising as palpably as the flush invading Nikki’s cheeks.

  “Save it for later, will you, Dirk? Nikki doesn’t need to witness our family feud.”

  “Why’s that?” Dirk challenged. “Don’t want her to witness your shortcomings in our pissing contest?”

  Wade met his brother’s glare, fists clenched at his sides. “I said this isn’t the time, Dirk.”

  Silent seconds ticked by making Nikki feel like a participant in a Wild West showdown. Just when she was certain violence would erupt, Dirk backed down.

  “We’re not done talking, li’l bro—not by a long shot.”

  “No. We’re not done,” Wade bit back, “but it’ll have to wait.”

  Another grunt followed and Dirk disappeared, leaving Wade staring down at his boots and shaking his head. After a time he exhaled an exasperated breath.

  “Is it always like that with you two?” Nikki asked. They were so different from one another, he and Dirk—like oil and water—and seemed to mix about as well.

  “Yeah. Pretty much. A real lovable type, my big brother.”

  “What’s the story anyway, Wade? Why are you and he at each other’s throats?”

  He gave a crooked grin. “Noticed that, did you?”

  “Yeah. Kinda hard not to.”

  “Yeah. I s’pose it’s a combination of things. Dirk’s problem is mostly disillusionment. He isn’t the man he was before he joined the Marines, either physically or emotionally.”

  “But you said his disability has hardly slowed him down much.”

  “That’s true when it comes to the ranch, but how many one-legged rodeo cowboys have you seen?”

  She had no answer to that.

  Wade continued, “Dirk’s still struggling to adjust to life in general—and not making it easy on any of us. Deep down he knows things can’t go on like they used to in the old days, partly because he can’t go on like he did before. The ranch isn’t the same either, but he’s not ready to accept that and let it go.”

  “And your father? What does he say?”

  “He’s torn, of course. He knows how it is, but he and Mama so desperately want the old Dirk back, and the old life, that they keep hanging on, too. In the meantime, I keep dumping money into the place.”

  “I can understand why. So what will you do now?”

  He gave her a grim look. “Whatever has to be done. I hate to see the place go but I’m a pragmatist. I’m not going to hold on to a losing operation out of misplaced pride. We had an offer on the table. It was a decent offer. We may not get another one. I’ll try to reason with my brother, but if it comes down to it, I may have to beat some sense into him.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s just say all the options are on the table.”

  “Really? Then what happens if he kicks your ass?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Wade rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  Nikki was incredulous. “Your brother broke your nose?”

  “And a few ribs, but he had two good legs then. I figure we’re more evenly matched now.” Wade cocked a grin. “But then again, I’m a lover not a fighter.”

  Nikki laughed, relieved to see him returning to equilibrium. “I kinda had that part figured out already.”

  “Told you I’d be happy to back up my words.”

  “You missed your chance, cowboy. There won’t be another.”

  Although she’d already seen enough to know he wasn’t like the others she typically went for, she still suspected he’d play her in a heartbeat if she gave him a chance—well, a second chance, given that she’d already given him the first one last night.

  “You know what they say; all good things come to those who wait.”

  “Never is a very long time to wait.”

  He chuckled. “There’s a lot to be said for delayed gratification, you know. Given half a chance, I’d delay yours for a very long time—hours maybe.”

  “That’s quite a boast, cowboy. You know what they say about the ones that talk big…” She let her gaze trail over him, allowing her shrug to speak for itself.

  “It’s no boast, sweetheart.” His voice was lower. Darker. Inciting ripples in her belly. “And I’d be happy to prove it to you.”

  “I hope you know you’re setting some impossible expectations.”

  “So you’re thinking about it?”

  He had her there. “I didn’t say that!”

  “But you implied it. And that’s mighty encouraging.” He took her by the elbow before she could rebut him. “C’mon now. Mama’s likely in the kitchen. The only thing that would have brought Dirk inside this time of day would be grub.”

  * * *

  Flour up to her elbows, Wade’s mother greeted Nikki with Wade’s same crystal-blue eyes, and a gleaming toothy smile. “So you’re the Georgia peach Wady’s been telling me about.” She spoke with a distinctive Texas twang.

  “Wady?” Nikki almost laughed aloud.

  “No one calls me that,” Wade scowled.

  “Except your mother,” Nikki said. “Do you have any other pet names for your sons, Mrs. Knowlton?”

  Wade’s mother made a face. “I’d prefer you call me Donna. Mrs. Knowlton was my dear-departed mother-in-law.”

  “All right, Donna. I’m Nicole, but I always go by Nikki.”

  “Always?” Wade asked.

  “Yes.” Nikki shot him a grin. “Except with big, swaggering cowboys, but I think you’re trying to distract me. I’d love to know what other names she calls you and Dirk.”

  Donna’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “You know, I don’t recall that I ever gave Dirk a pet name. What about you Wade? Did you ever have any nicknames for Dirk?”

  “Plenty of ’em, Mama, but none of ’em bear repeatin’ in polite company.”

  “You!” She playfully swatted at the side of his head. Wade dodged her with a grin. “What brings such a pretty Southern girl so far north?” Donna asked Nikki.

  “My father passed away. He retired up here some years back.”

  “Oh.” Her expression softened. “I’m so sorry to hear that, sugar.”

  “It’s all right. I really didn’t know him all that well. My parents divorced when I was very young and I never saw him after that. Still, I’m his only kin, so I came.”

  “And you’re only staying a few days?”

  “Yes. That’s all I have time for. In fact, we really need to leave here soon.”

  “Leave? But you just got here,” Donna protested.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” Wade replied, “but we really do need to head back to Sheridan. Nicole has a number of things to take care of.”

  “Well, you can’t go on an empty stomach,” Donna insisted. “I’ve got some stew and biscuits here.”

  “Just black coffee for me, please.” Nikki grimaced in an effort to suppress her queasiness while Wade filled up a big bowl from the pot on the stove.

  “Sure thing.” Donna poured her a cup. “Are you coming back?” she asked Wade, who was already stuffing a biscuit into his mouth. “Dirk was counting on your help to move the strays off the mountain to the south pastures.”

  “Was h
e? Funny he didn’t mention it just now.”

  “You know he’d never ask, Wade, but I’m sure he expected it the minute he saw you.”

  “He’ll manage without me. I’ve got other things to see to today.”

  “Sure he’ll manage,” she scolded. “But that don’t mean he should. He’s killin’ himself to prove he doesn’t need your help and I don’t like it a bit.”

  He groaned. “Look, Mama, if I go out there today it won’t be pretty, and I guarantee you’ll end up carrying one, if not both of us, to the hospital. Then who will move the damned cattle?”

  “Well, I won’t see your father stepping in and having another heart attack over this. Even with the ATV, he can’t do like he used to.”

  “All right. All right. I’ll drop Nicole at my office and then come back to round up strays. Does that satisfy you?” Wade sighed and then shoved another biscuit into his mouth.

  “It would be a start.” Her smile held more than a hint of triumph. “You and Dirk need to work this out between you, you know.”

  “Yeah. I intend to. And sooner rather than later. It might not be too late to salvage the deal. The buyer was pretty hot to have this place.”

  “Did you ever find out who this anonymous buyer was?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I met him.”

  “And?” she prompted. “Who is he?”

  “Brett Simmons.”

  “You don’t mean the Brett Simmons? The quarterback?”

  “One and the same. And he was really pissed when the deal fell through. I almost gave him Dirk’s number, in hope he’d pound some sense into him. He’s big enough.”

  “Pshaw!” Donna waved a flour-coated hand. “I’d still put my money on Dirk—one leg and all.”

  Watching the exchange between mother and son, Nikki marveled at the tightness of their bond. Internal squabbling and all, she could still feel the warmth and strength of their relationships. It was something she’d never had, but had always longed for. Her own family was a dysfunctional disaster.

  After her parents divorced, Nikki had had three stepfathers—and just as many new siblings, although she hardly knew the younger ones. She’d hightailed it out of Toccoa as soon as she was old enough and never looked back.