“Maybe Russell already had that table staked out,” Candace said. “He sure seemed to know what he wanted and how he was going to go about getting it. Unfortunately, he got a phone call to go to some appointment and won’t be around again until later tonight. But I’ll just go back and spend the night with him before he leaves for his place in the city tomorrow.”
This all still seemed weird to Nicki. There was so much pulling at her: the idea that the W+W might be about to change forever, the thought of Candace dating the man who was putting together the deal…
“Is it serious?” Nicki asked, hoping she’d hear a no for some reason she couldn’t really put her finger on. Maybe it was because she’d been considering Russell as an adversary. That had to be it.
Candace started picking at the label of the beer bottle. “Serious? No.” She laughed. “Not at this point, anyway.”
“But sometime in the future?” Nicki asked. “That’s moving pretty fast, Candy.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Praise be, that’s when her cell phone rang.
She stood, reached into her jeans and excused herself. In the next room, she checked the screen.
Shane?
She swallowed, coating a suddenly dry throat. The marks he’d left on her body pounded as she answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Nicki.”
Just the sound of him made her sink into a nearby chair. She wanted to crawl through the phone so she could watch his mouth while he talked, so she could let him press that mouth all over her again.
“Hey,” she said.
“You down for the night?”
Down for anything. “Not yet.” She hoped he understood that part to mean that she wasn’t busy.
Heck, she wasn’t going to come right out and say it. She wasn’t that easy.
Was she?
Kind of liking the thought of how she might be, she fiddled with the hem of her plain shirt as he went on.
“Would you want to come here?”
Hell to the yeah.
But she paused, as if thinking it over.
Then he added, “I’d really like to talk.”
Oh. Talk. Was that code for a role-playing situation that he was luring her into?
Were they already starting their game for the night?
“What should I bring?” she asked.
“Just yourself.” He didn’t sound playful, but she would go with it.
Her sex drive was already halfway there, weakening her in all the right places.
“I’ll be over there soon,” she said.
“Half hour?”
That’d give her just enough time for a quick freshen-up. “You got it.”
She hung up the phone, excited about what Shane had waiting for her.
HOW WAS HE GOING to tell her?
Shane put his phone down on the top of his office desk and sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. His mom and he hadn’t gotten any calls from the banks yet, but Alexander had said they would come sometime this week. He thought that it might behoove him to contact the creditors, just to see if Russell Alexander was lying about the loans being called in. But that seemed like tempting fate, when, if he stayed quiet, he might have a few more days to finagle a solution.
If nothing surfaced by the end of the week, then he’d call to make sure.
Still, nerves had sent Shane on a day-long journey of contacting everyone he could think of, including his former boss back at the ranch he’d worked on near Dallas. Shane had pitched him the idea of expanding his business interests out here on the West Coast, but money was just as tight for him, too, and it had been a no-go.
That didn’t leave much for options. His mom, who actually shouldered most of the burden since the loans his dad had taken out were under her name after her husband’s death, wouldn’t be able to come up with any capital. She’d only gone to take a long visit with her sister in Oklahoma because, at the age of sixty-eight, she’d done everything she could for the Slanted C, and Shane had told her to relax, that he would fix everything on this end. She’d needed the time away—down time from all the stress of the ranch’s freefall—and it was the best he could think to give her, besides the vow that she would damned well have an improved home waiting for her when all was said and done.
She had dealt with her husband bravely all those years, always standing up for Shane until he would step between her and Dad. It’d been hard, watching his parents function—loving one moment, verbally going at it the next. She’d told Shane that she had stayed with Dad because of her sons, but there’d been more to it.
Love—too complicated, Shane thought. Too painful with all its hidden corners and ups and downs.
The only choice left seemed to be the Lyon offer, and they wanted an answer by the end of the week. If it came right down to it, Shane could negotiate benefits, though: first among them, he was damned sure going to make certain his mom would have a cabin and a consulting fee on this dude resort, if that’s what she wanted. He’d already faxed the offer to the family lawyer and would be talking to him on a conference call in the morning.
Shane still couldn’t believe it. He might have just one week left for him to enjoy his dignity before it got flushed away with a yes to the corporation, before he sold all the dreams he’d had of building this ranch back up.
Before he gave up any hope of proving what he was really made of to everyone.
But what about Nicki and the Square W+W?
He wasn’t even sure why that should really matter to him in the face of everything else that was at stake for his family.
Shane rose from his chair, shutting the window behind him, cutting off the air, which had turned cooler tonight. The season had definitely settled into what it was supposed to be.
Every movement was tense, and Shane told himself to get hold of himself before Nicki got here to, once again, put everything besides pleasure out of sight, out of mind.
It was okay to keep having sex with her—he still had a few days to pray for a miracle that might turn his fortunes around, and only if that failed would he have to put an end to their relationship.
He still had a few days to tell her that he was going to dash her own dreams of saving her place….
Soon enough, he heard the crunch of her truck’s tires on the gravel in front of the house, and he told himself to suck it up, to brace himself for the sight of her.
When she stepped onto his porch, with the light breathing over her dark blond curls, the light green of her eyes with their long lashes, the sweet curve of her mouth, Shane didn’t think he could ever bring himself to tell her what he needed to.
In fact, as they said hello, something strange grasped his heart—something that had been there all along, disguising itself until all he could do was face the truth of it now.
He didn’t merely desire Nicki.
He liked her.
Before he could think any more about it, he brought her into the house. He’d been rehearsing so many damned words, and he’d forgotten each and every one of them.
She stopped in the hallway, which led to the bedrooms. Clearly unsure of what was coming next, she seemed to revert to that brave Nicki Wade who showed up whenever they started their games.
“You’re quiet tonight,” she said.
Was she testing him? Wondering if he’d already started a role-playing scenario and was waiting to see how she should react?
She’d be shocked to know that, for once, he hadn’t even thought about what might make him feel better—not in that respect.
“It’s been a long day,” he said, gesturing for her to enter the hallway. His old bedroom wasn’t too far down. He could think about what he wanted them to be tonight when they got there.
But, on the way, they passed the family area, and he spied his father’s chair, which still reigned in front of the TV.
You never do anything right….
You’re a piece of shit, through and through….
>
Anger surged, because Shane knew he could be better than that. Would be.
He could manage much more than his father had ever expected by coming through for his family.
Yet, now, with Nicki standing here, it didn’t seem fair to take advantage of her in the bedroom just before screwing her in an entirely different way. He didn’t want to be the guy who still let everyone down with his bad choices.
Especially her.
He put his hand on her back, and she hauled in a breath.
It killed him, slowly, completely.
How had he let things with her go far enough for him to be second-guessing himself? Where was the Shane who didn’t stick around too long, who never allowed himself to care?
He guided her to the kitchen instead of the bedroom, not knowing what he’d do with her there.
Talk like normal people?
A dull thud reminded him that he never much connected with anyone that way, but now…?
Now seemed like a good time to try, because out of all the people he knew, Nicki was the one who could help him make sense of all this, even if she was also the person he would hurt the most if he had to bow under to the Lyon Group.
Didn’t she have the right to know why he might have to do that? And he certainly needed to tell her about it before anyone else in town caught wind of his troubles and let her know first.
But even though he knew he should just tell her now, he didn’t.
He wouldn’t, not until he had no other choice.
10
NICKI WAS STILL TRYING to figure out just what Shane had up his sleeve as he pulled out a wooden chair for her at the pine kitchen table and went to the fridge.
“You hungry?” he asked, opening it, the light shining over him in his T-shirt and jeans. It brushed over his broad shoulders, the ridges that defined his upper back.
Her heart caught in her throat. Was she hungry?
For him—always.
It looked as if he might even be setting up some kind of food fantasy, and she thought of what might be in the fridge. Strawberries, whipped cream…
“I’m up for anything,” she said. “I didn’t have much for dinner.”
“Me, neither.” He straightened up and closed the door.
She sensed some real tension in him. It was as if he had something to say and he couldn’t figure out how to do it. But, earlier, when she’d told him that he seemed quiet, it’d been because she’d actually wondered if he was all right. She hadn’t wanted to overtly ask him, but the way she’d phrased it had let him know that she noticed something was amiss.
Were they friends enough to talk about deeper things with each other by now?
Before she could broach the subject, he walked toward the back door. “There’s not much around here for food. How about we raid the mess pantry?”
“Okay.” She was still puzzled about what he was doing as they walked the short distance from his house to the mess hall, where the hands ate and where there was a kitchen for the cook to work in.
Shane must’ve already known what he wanted as he faced the pantry shelves, snagging a package of angel hair pasta, a green pepper, garlic cloves and a can of diced tomatoes. He grabbed some shrimp and feta cheese from the refrigerator, too.
“Anything else?” she asked, entertained by a man who knew enough about cooking to have a firm recipe in his head.
His arms were full. “How about fixings for a salad? And—” he jerked his chin to indicate the shelves “—maybe one of those?”
Nicki saw that Jerry, the Slanted C’s cook, had purchased a few pies from the Golden Crust bakery in town: apple, cherry, rhubarb.
She picked the apple pie, since the bakery was known throughout the county for them. “Looks like Cook cheats.”
“Don’t they all?”
“No, our Mrs. Callahan makes everything fresh.” A sinking sensation weighed in Nicki. “For as long as she’ll be able to, anyway.”
Shane was on his way out, and he paused, his brow furrowed. But then he stepped through the door, holding it for her with his foot as she exited.
When they reentered the house’s kitchen, he went straight for the counter, setting down his foodstuffs, then taking the pie, lettuce, tomatoes and avocado from her. He fetched a few spices from an iron rack over the stove.
“You want to take care of that salad?” he asked.
“Sure. But I’m curious about what you have in mind with the pasta.”
From the way he moved around the kitchen, after washing his hands and drying them, it was obvious that he was a natural here. Like many other things about Shane, it turned her on.
“Greek-style scampi,” he said, getting a pot out of the cupboard, filling it with water, then giving it a couple of dashes of salt before turning on the heat.
“Sounds good.” Nicki washed up, too, then rinsed off the lettuce and tomatoes. “When did you learn to cook?”
“Back when I lived here, I used to eat at the mess with the hands most nights, but I picked up cooking from Mom whenever I was around.” He wiped down a large wooden cutting board. “There’d be times when it’d just be the three of us for dinner—Mom, Tommy, me. Those were good nights.”
Nicki watched as he lay down the cutting board and took out a couple of sharp knives from a block on the counter.
They’d skipped over the fantasy part of the night and had gone straight to pillow talk, hadn’t they? And, if she didn’t know any better, she’d think that Shane Carter had…well, a few feelings that had nosed their way into this tenuous relationship of theirs.
In light of that, she again started to wonder just what they were to each other at this point—neighbors?
Friends?
Or could it be that he’d gotten sick of her in bed already and was just trying to build a good working relationship for the rest of the time he was in attendance here? If she were to believe in Shane’s fickle love-’em-and-leave-’em reputation, she might’ve placed a wager on this particular theory.
As she cut a tomato in half, she decided to just come out and ask him.
“Shane, why did you call me over here tonight?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“Up until now there’s always been one.”
He was already cubing those avocados on the same cutting board, bringing them arm to arm, and he didn’t look up from his efforts. “Is it too much to think that maybe I like being around you?”
Warm fuzz surrounded her heart, cradling it. “You do?”
He stopped cutting, looking at her, his dark blue eyes soft with some kind of emotion that she couldn’t quite grasp. “How could I not?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that we had…”
“Conditions? I suppose we did. If I’m trampling all over them by being friendly, I’ll back off.”
Being friendly. That was one way to say it.
But Nicki liked where this was leading. Lovers one night. Friends the next.
And after that—who knew?
She almost laughed at her newly won romantic confidence. But why not?
Why wasn’t improvement possible with a womanly makeover in not only her physical side, but her attitude, as well?
“Shane, I don’t want you to back off at all,” she said, smiling, going back to chopping that tomato. “I’m enjoying this. I don’t know what it all means, but it’s nice.”
He didn’t say anything to that, and Nicki guessed it was because definitions probably scared a player like Shane. But maybe one night, he would clearly see what they were to each other.
Maybe, then, he’d stick around longer than he’d originally planned…?
Boy, this was a dangerous emotional game she was playing, especially knowing that she’d come into this whole thing believing it was temporary. But one night had led to another, and here she was.
Hopelessly hopeful.
When she finished with the tomatoes, she turned her head away, stifling a sudden yawn that had crept up on her. It wa
sn’t even all that late, but it’d been yet another stressful day.
“Am I keeping you up?” he asked.
“Hardly.”
“You don’t have to explain. It’s a lot of work keeping our places going.” He was tearing the lettuce, putting the leaves into a large ceramic bowl. “But it’s all a labor of love in the end.”
“Yeah.” Love for a place that would always be in her system. Love for everyone who lived on the W+W and had tried to maintain it with their own blood, sweat and tears.
“Hell,” he said, “I didn’t know how much I’d missed the Slanted C until I set foot on the grass again.” He put down the knife, then gave her a look that seemed to reach right into her. “I came back here to raise this place up to what it used to be years ago.”
He spoke with such restrained passion that she rested her fingers on his wrist. She didn’t need to say out loud that she understood: he was a lot like her, they were both a part of the land, etched into the foundations of those stables and barns, lost without their homes.
As the water came to a simmer in the pot, Nicki felt her skin burning against his, and he eased out from under her fingers, as if disturbed by what he felt.
Once again it was as if he had something to say, but when he merely put the pasta into the water, Nicki didn’t press him.
AS FULL NIGHT SPREAD over the sky, Candace drove to town, radio blaring while she sang along to an old Go-Gos song.
Russell should be back in his hotel by now, and she wanted to give him a rousing rendition of room service.
She walked through the Hacienda Hotel’s lobby, which was late-night silent, then up the staircase, to the second floor, where she’d spent so much of today in Russell’s bed.
After she knocked on his door, she smoothed out the short black dress she’d changed into. She’d paired it with high boots and a tasteful, fitted dark orange sweater since it’d gotten colder outside. Halloween colors for the approach of the holiday in a few nights.
She heard the click of the door lock, and she helped to push it open, softly saying, “Treat or treat. You gonna give me something good?”
By the time she stepped inside, Russell was already walking away, dressed in a robe provided by the hotel.
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