by Maddie James
Can I? Handle things with Reba Morris?
He’d known her less than a day, and it felt like weeks. First impressions aside, the biggest realization he had about his new neighbor was she was a pretty tough cookie to handle.
A challenge? Perhaps. But he was up to it.
He’d drank all the coffee he could stand and had watched way too many minutes of politically-charged news programs on the ER waiting room television—a television set for which one had to ask for permission to turn down the volume or to change the channel.
He was certain there was a reason for that, but he’d be damned if he’d ask for the remote control just so he could flip through soap operas and talk shows and not land on anything at all of interest. So he got up and stepped outside for some fresh air and ended up scooting closer to the smokers so he could inhale some second-hand smoke and engage in small talk.
He’d bum a cigarette and a light, but quitting smoking was the one thing he’d promised his father he would do several months ago. And he had. He didn’t want to pick that bad habit up again.
Even though, he could use a long, deep drag off one about now. Might calm his nerves.
He glanced at his watch and then inside the waiting room as someone exited the large double doors.
Parker dodged the closing doors and jogged inside. “Mike. I’m here.”
His old friend turned and acknowledged him with a nod. Parker and Mike had gone to one year of college together at the University of Montana in Missoula and had become fast friends. Parker ended up coming back to the ranch, and his heart, after a year. Mike continued and ended up in medical school. They kept in touch, and Mike became a regular visitor to McKenna Ranch over the years. When it came time for him to settle somewhere and open his practice, he chose Livingston rather than Chicago, where he grew up.
“Parker. Hey, man. Walk this way.”
Shit. Something was wrong. Mike let him into another corridor.
“How is she?”
Turning, Mike said, “She’s going to be just fine, Parker. Just inconvenienced for a little while.”
Parker exhaled, and the stress melted from his shoulders. “That’s great.”
Mike cocked his head to the right. “It looks like a broken elbow, but it’s difficult to tell quite yet. Bone fractures generally show up better on X-ray after about ten days, so I’ll set up an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon to take it from here. The bump on her head will be okay. She’ll be sore, swollen and bruised around her eye for a while, but nothing is broken there.”
“Great.” He sighed again.
“She was dehydrated, so we pushed some fluids. She’ll need to stay until we take out the IV. Her blood sugar was low, but that’s probably because she hadn’t eaten. She’s had a sandwich and some fruit but probably could use a good meal when she gets home, and of course, water. What she told you and Callie was probably right—her body is still adjusting to this altitude. Kentucky is barely above sea level in most parts. It’s a bit of a change for her, especially up in the foothills where she lives. But she’ll adjust. The water will help. That’s about it.”
Parker didn’t know how to thank him and said so. “I’ll see to all of that.”
“Of course, you realize I’m telling you all of this unofficially.”
“What?”
“You can’t act like you know any of this. Let her tell you. She didn’t indicate on her paperwork that I could share this information with anyone, but seeing that you brought her in here and evidently spent the night with her at her house last night, I’m making an exception. Although, when I asked her if she wanted you to come in, she flat out said no.”
Parker grimaced. “She did?”
“Yes, she did.”
“I see.”
“So what gives?”
He shrugged. What does give?
“Are you two dating?”
Parker shook his head. “No. I just met her yesterday.”
“Is this the same woman who was in your kitchen yesterday taking care of all the food?”
That question took Parker aback. “Actually, yes. You saw her?”
He nodded. “I thought I recognized her. I went into the kitchen for water at some point. She was bustling about.”
“Yes, she made herself quite at home. I think she just wanted to be neighborly and useful. She bought the Crandall cabin down the road. You know the place?”
“I do. And yes, she told me she lived there.”
“Oh.” Parker rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “She was heading there last night and flipped her SUV leaving the ranch. I got her out, took her home, and the rest I think you know about….”
“So just to be clear—this is a casual thing between the two of you?”
Parker nodded. “Sure. Casual. Neighbors. We’re just friends.”
It was Mike’s turn to sigh. “Great. Because I want to ask her out to dinner.”
Parker stood there. What?
Mike backed up a few steps. “Hey, I have to run. One of the nurses will get with you when Reba is ready to be dismissed.”
Mike wants to ask Reba out?
That did not sit well with him. Not at all.
****
Three hours later, Reba found the silence in the truck cab almost deafening. Oh, they had shared a bit of small talk on the way out. Parker had asked how she was feeling, what the doctor said. She avoided his questions with simple, one-word responses. He didn’t need any more details than what she wanted to supply.
She was still a little miffed at his insistence that she see a doctor, and even more so that she’d just had to fork over two hundred and fifty big ones for the emergency room visit, with the promise of a bill to come.
It wasn’t that money was super tight. It was simply that she had pretty much depleted the funds in her account with the move and the renovations, and she was waiting on another check to come from Jack’s pension any day now. She didn’t like to run things so close to a zero balance.
The quiet between them in the truck cab was unnerving, though. She didn’t want to be rude, but what was Parker’s problem?
He had been cordial, of course, and very much a gentleman—always the quintessential cowboy, she had noted—but his disposition had turned into one of those moody man moods she found so incredibly unbecoming.
Just wallow in it, Mr. Personable.
Not her problem. For a few more miles, anyway.
Oh, hell… “I suppose I should thank you for getting me to the hospital and sticking around to take me home. Even though I didn’t want to go in the first place.” She didn’t look at him but spoke to the windshield.
He pretty much did the same. “Just being a good neighbor, Ms. Morris,” he said.
Hmm. When had she become Ms. Morris? “I wasn’t going to let you pay for my bill, Parker. So you can just get over that.”
He didn’t respond.
“I realize you are used to being in control, getting your way and all that. Big tough alpha cowboy who likes to ride up, swoop in, and save the damsel in distress. But I’m here to tell you, I don’t need saving. I can take care of myself.”
Reba glanced over to look at his profile.
Parker huffed. “Never said I was any of those things.”
You don’t have to say it. You ooze it. “Well, it’s more than implied. It’s the way you carry yourself, the way you walk. The way you look at a woman like you could…” Devour her. “Never mind.”
She jerked her gaze back to look at the road. His gaze was now fixed on her face. She could feel the heat.
“Anyway, I don’t need saving,” she muttered again, softer.
“Maybe not. Maybe just someone needs to look out for you.”
She whirled. “Oh, really? And you think you are that someone?”
He looked straight at her. “Maybe.”
Reba clamped her lips shut tight and looked out the passenger-side window. A strange little tingle shot up inside her and settled behind her
breastbone when he’d said that single word. Maybe. What did he mean by that? “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve done it for a very long time, and I’ve turned out fine so far, thank you very much.”
“That so.”
She twisted back to look at him. “Yes. That’s very so!”
He glanced her way. “Look in the mirror, Reba.”
“What?”
“Look at yourself. You have a splint on your arm, your eye is black, you passed out cold from lack of food and water—and you don’t need protecting?”
“I don’t! I am capable!” Why did she feel the need to justify herself to this man?
“Look in the mirror.”
“Why?”
“Just do it. Pull down that visor and have a look at yourself. Have you lately?”
Frustrated, Reba did what he said. She jerked at the visor, sending dust and a few receipts flying, and then snapped open the mirror. And gasped.
“Oh, my God. My eye. My face!”
Her entire left eye was encircled in black—except for the purple eye shadow effect above it. The bump above her eyebrow was still prominent and puffy, and her eyelid was so swollen she feared by morning it would be totally closed.
“Yeah. See? Can’t you just let me do something for you? I feel responsible for this. The wreck, at least. It was on my property!”
He was shouting, and Reba’s one good eye grew wider at his words. Why was he so angry?
She glared at him and wanted to cry. Like everything she’d been through in the past twenty-four hours was suddenly bearing down on her shoulders. “Why are you angry with me? It was no one’s fault. Blame the damn deer and the sun.” At that point, Reba shoved the mirror closed and looked out the window. The last thing she wanted to do was have him see her cry.
Out of her one damn good eye!
She didn’t want to cry over this. She didn’t. It was a vain and stupid thing to do, to cry over a black eye. Not to mention her arm in a sling down to the first joints of her fingers. How was she going to be able to type? Or edit the video?
Then there was the television interview coming up and the photoshoot….
She sniffled. More than a little. And her eyes stung.
How in the hell had all of these things happened to her in less than twenty-four hours? Just a day ago she’d been on cloud nine. Her blog had been deemed a success, the launch of her YouTube channel was coming in a few weeks, and the Bekah’s Cottage book deal was the icing on the cake. Life was so good!
Her dreams were coming true, thanks to Jack. Dear Jack.
The thought of him made her want to cry even more.
“Reba, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
She whirled back. “No, you shouldn’t have. Please, just take me home.” Then she did the unthinkable. Something she hadn’t done for months. Something she wouldn’t let herself do so much when Jack was dying.
She burst into tears. Not just tears but a full-blown, butt-ugly, gut-twisting, sob-sucking crying attack.
****
“Ah, hell.”
Parker glanced into his rearview mirror, saw no traffic behind him, and started slowing down. He quickly perused his surroundings and spotted a pull-off up ahead. Not saying anything to Reba, he moved over as far as he could, got out and rounded the cab, and made his way to the passenger side and to Reba. Opening her door fully, he stepped up to her side, carefully undid her seatbelt, and angled her legs toward him, a little.
“Reba,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. Look at me.”
Her gaze was downcast, and she was still sobbing in hiccups. “No. I don’t want you to look at me.”
Ah hell! “Reba, sweetheart, it’s okay. Look at me.”
Slowly, she lifted her face and his gaze caught hers. Shit. Big, fat tears were hanging onto her lower lids, and all he wanted to do was kiss them away.
Can’t do that, McKenna.
“I’m a mess. I’m a swollen, bloated, tear-faced mess. I really don’t want you to look at me.”
He reached for the clean handkerchief in his pocket. “Here.” He carefully dabbed the cloth underneath both her eyes. “Now yes, that was a lot of ugly crying, but it sure doesn’t make you any less pretty. Gosh, Reba, I didn’t mean to go and get you that upset.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not you. It’s just everything.” She sniffled and glanced off.
“Want to talk about it?”
She must have because she started in immediately. “It’s me, Parker. It’s all of this stuff. Things were going so well until yesterday, and now I have this,” she raised her left arm with the splint, “and how am I supposed to type and blog and edit when I can’t even move my fingers…and what about this!” She pointed to her eye. “I have a big job thing coming up, and I will be on camera and all of this crap,” she waved both her arms, “is going to get in my way!”
“That was one big damn sentence, honey. I’m not sure if I got it all but—”
“Never mind!”
He nodded. “Okay. No worries.” He patted at her eyes again and then handed her the handkerchief. “Here. Let me take a closer look at you.”
It was the first time he’d looked deep into her eyes. He wanted to look at her bruising and the bump a little closer, but as he carefully brushed back her hair, he got lost in that one big glistening emerald eye, shimmering with a few unshed tears.
“You are beautiful, you know,” he told her. “Even with this.” He grazed a thumb beneath her left eye, trailing the edge of the bruise. He loved the look of her porcelain skin and the smattering of small reddish freckles over her nose. He didn’t know too many women who still had their freckles into adulthood. It was mighty cute.
He grinned. “I don’t know what camera thing you have, but I bet some big Jackie-O sunglasses would hide this shiner slick as a button, and you’d look pretty sexy wearing them.”
Reba physically gulped. “Wha— What?”
He stepped back. “I’m sorry. I think the words in my head escaped my mouth and obviously, I need to get more control on that.”
She nodded. “Kind of like when I said I wanted to kiss you last night?”
Parker shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yes. Like that.”
Reba continued, glancing to her lap. “We said we were going to forget about that, right?”
He nodded. “We did.”
Silence fell between them for a few long, tortuous seconds.
“Okay, that’s good, because with this eye thing going on, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to kiss me again anyway.”
Closing his eyes, Parker exhaled. Long. It didn’t matter if her entire face was purple, he still wanted to kiss those pink, pouty lips of hers.
“Parker?”
He stepped forward. “Yes?”
Slowly, her face lifted and once again, she turned those sparkling emeralds up on him. He reined in control for a brief moment and then leaned forward to cradle her face in his hands, angling her mouth toward his, and kissed her.
Her lips were dewy-sweet and soft as a calf’s ear. He nibbled and caressed their plumpness, her touch sending a wicked spiral of desire straight through him, her honey taste revving up his libido to a higher gear. Her sighs slipping through her parted breaths and landing on his mouth were nearly his undoing.
He pulled back, slightly. “Reba…” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I….”
She put two fingers on his lips. “Shh. Kiss me again, cowboy,” she told him. “Don’t stop.”
And he didn’t.
Chapter Seven
Sunday morning
Parker had managed to avoid his stepmother for the entire day after his father’s funeral. Not deliberately, of course. Mostly by happenstance. He’d had a full day, what with keeping Reba awake the night before, the meeting with Tom, and then the emergency trip back to Livingston—he’d been hopping every minute with very little time to spare.
Avoiding Liz and the rest of the family
was not going to be an option today. She’d called not long after he’d dropped Reba off at her cabin last night and requested they all spend some time together in the morning. Sunday morning breakfasts at the new house generally were the rule of thumb, so why was Liz making a special effort to make sure they were all there tomorrow?
He agreed it was necessary. It would give them time to talk and process the past couple of weeks and the funeral and to speculate a bit about what comes next. Of course, some things couldn’t be dealt with until the details of the will were disclosed later next week.
Then, there was the part about all of the siblings and Liz getting along. He reminded himself of the talk he’d had with Tom. Spending time with them today would be a good thing.
Even though he’d rather finagle some time with Reba.
Reba. Her face had saturated his dreams last night. He liked the way her name rolled around in his head and off his tongue when he said it aloud. He imagined saying her name on a whisper in her ear, when he was making love to her….
Down boy. Don’t go there so early in the morning.
Her kisses were intoxicating. He had left her last evening with a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips and a promise to call her. She’d gone inside with a small wave and a smile and a semi-confused look on her face.
Probably not unlike the look that was on his face.
Things were moving too quickly between them, and that likely was not a good thing. He had a lot on his plate this next week or so, and with the future of the ranch on the line, how could he even think about starting a relationship? Plus, he’d not had a moment to let the grief surrounding his father’s death settle in, never mind trying to deal with it.
He shouldn’t have kissed her so much. But standing there in the open door of the cab, looking into her sad face and wiping away her tears, all he could think about was he wanted to be the person to make her tears go away. To hold her and kiss her until she felt beautiful again. To be the man taking her out to dinner. Not Mike.
He just couldn’t stop kissing her.
