“I’ve been in them,” he grumbled, settling next to Annabelle, but being careful not to lean in too close. “I’ve never built one. There’s a difference.”
“Tell me about it.” She handed Annabelle a printed list of questions. “Get me the answers to these and I’ll be a fan forever. Before you leave, if possible.” She started toward the door. “Try to keep the yelling down.”
“We won’t yell,” Annabelle told her.
Jocelyn grinned. “Then you haven’t done this before, either. Trust me, honey, there’s always yelling.”
She left, closing the door behind her.
Annabelle drew the plans toward them. “It’s your house. We’re not going to argue.” She turned and smiled at him. “Because you’re going to listen to everything I say, right?”
Her gaze captured him, holding him in place. Not that he wanted to go anywhere. “Not likely.”
She chuckled, then turned her attention to the drawings. “Okay, the house. It’s nice. I like all the windows. There’ll be plenty of light in the winter. Big master. Good his and hers closets.” She shifted slightly and her hair slipped off her shoulder to rest on the back of his hand.
The curls tickled and teased, making him want to weave his fingers through the strands. Even without trying he could breathe in the scent of her. He swore silently, reminding himself he had to maintain control.
“Hmm.” She pointed to the kitchen. “This isn’t going to work. Look at where the pantry is. Around behind the refrigerator? That’s going to be a pain. And this wall here, closing everything off.”
“You need the wall for cabinets.”
“You need a wall for cabinets. There’s a difference. The kitchen itself is great, but it’s all catawampus.”
He drew back and grinned. “It’s what?”
“Catawampus? Askew. Turned around wrong.”
“I know what the word means.”
“I was trying to talk in cowboy terms. So we could relate to each other.”
“You don’t think we’re relating now?”
Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part but he would swear she leaned a little closer. And that her lips parted as she drew in a breath.
“I do, but I wanted to make sure.” She blinked a couple of times and turned her attention back to the plans. “All you’d have to do is shift everything ninety degrees. Then the kitchen would be open to the family room and the sink would still face a window. The pantry would be accessible, like this.”
She picked up a pencil and drew a couple of quick lines.
He was more intrigued by her reaction than what she was doing. Was it possible that she felt it, too? The connection? Talk about a game changer. Not that he was looking to get involved, but there was a whole country of possibilities between interested and involved.
“I’ll talk to Jocelyn,” he told her, still watching her as he spoke.
“You and I should probably schedule some time in the home improvement store so I can get an idea of what you like. For finishes and fixtures. That will help me narrow down the choices. I know everyone is crazy about granite, but I think there are a lot of manmade finishes you could consider. They’re so easy to take care of.”
More time with her? “Sounds like a plan.”
“Good.”
She turned toward him. Their faces were inches apart. Her mouth called to him in ways that left him hungry and determined. He wanted her and if she felt the same way—
“Shane?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you think of Charlie?”
It wasn’t the question he’d been expecting.
“Charlie Dixon?”
“Yes. She owns Mason. You’ve met her. What do you think of her?”
Of course he knew Charlie. He took care of her horse. “In what context?”
Annabelle smiled. “Romantically. Would you like to go out with her?”
He’d been thrown from his share of broncs, but never had he landed on his ass like this. He stared at Annabelle, wondering what he’d done to deserve it. All he wanted was a regular kind of life with a normal woman. Someone nice and caring, someone he would be faithful to and take care of. Was it asking too much?
With that description, Charlie should be exactly who he wanted. She was a walking, breathing definition of sensible. Instead he was driven mad by the bar-dancing, horse-whispering redhead in front of him.
“Shane?”
He did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed her by her shoulders, pulled her a couple of inches closer and kissed the hell out of her.
* * *
ANNABELLE HAD BEEN THINKING Shane would either say he liked Charlie fine or that she wasn’t his type. Honestly, she’d sort of been hoping for the latter, what with the tingles she’d started feeling when she was around him. But she hadn’t expected this.
His mouth was warm on hers. Firm, a little demanding, but only enough to keep things interesting. He smelled good, tasted better and he held on like he would never let go. A quality she could appreciate in a man. He was—
Need shattered her. One second she was enjoying how much she liked him kissing her and the next she was beyond frantic. Desperate, actually. She wanted to crawl into his lap and maybe inside of him. She wanted more kisses, along with some touching and even taking. Taking would be good. Very good.
She’d felt passion before, but nothing like this. Nothing had ever been so…desperate.
Moving as one, they stood, which was better. Now she could wrap her arms around his neck and lean into him. Now he could pull her even closer, then slide his hands up and down her back. She nestled against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against her curves. He wasn’t the kind of man who yielded easily. A characteristic she could get used to.
She angled her head so she could deepen the kiss. He moved the opposite way, then stroked her bottom lip with his tongue. She parted for him, hanging on to his shoulders, knowing it was going to be a wild ride.
He didn’t disappoint. At the first sweep of his tongue, fire danced through her. Her thighs heated, then went weak. The tingling returned, racing around her body before it settled in her breasts and between her thighs.
He kissed her deeply, teasing her tongue with his. She met him stroke for stroke, becoming more aroused by the second. His large hands settled at her waist. She wanted to pull them higher, to have him touch all of her. Tension made her surge against him, rocking her belly against his erection.
The proof of his need thrilled her. Although she’d managed to avoid being slutty for her entire life, right now the thought of doing it on the desk, right here, in the construction office, seemed feasible. Sensible even.
Shane broke the kiss and took a step back.
They stared at each other, their sharp breaths the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. A small measure of sanity returned, dulling the regret that he’d pulled away. Yes, it would have been amazing. Double yes, she would have had regrets.
But a girl could dream.
She cleared her throat, not completely sure she could speak in a normal voice.
“So, that would be a no on Charlie?” she asked.
“That’s a no.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“ANNABELLE! YOU’RE not listening.”
Annabelle pulled herself out of the delicious daydream that had haunted her pretty much all day. The instant replay of Shane’s kiss was nearly as powerful as the actual event had been. She wasn’t sure if that spoke to chemistry or the empty tragedy that was her love life. Maybe both.
“Sorry,” she said, smiling at the girl in front of her. “What is it, Mandy?”
“Is Shane a real cowboy? When we were at the Fourth of July festival last week, my mom said Shane was a cowboy and a half. I don’t know what that means.”
Annabelle held a smile, thinking it meant Mandy’s mom had an appreciation for a good-looking man. Having a beautiful garden of one’s own didn’t mean a person couldn’t admire someone else�
�s garden.
She frowned, not sure why that metaphor sounded weird, then deciding to go with it.
“Shane is a real cowboy,” Annabelle assured her. “Very much so. He has horses and knows how to ride. Oh, he was helping another cowboy with his rodeo skills, so I guess he teaches them, too.”
“He’s teaching you to ride, isn’t he?”
“Uh-huh. For the Máa-zib festival at the end of summer.”
“I want to learn to ride.”
“Okay.” Annabelle wasn’t sure what to do with that information.
“My brother says only boys can be cowboys and that I can’t learn to ride a horse.” Mandy’s blue eyes darkened with worry. “Is he right?”
“Of course not. You can ride as well as any boy. There’s not much to do. Honestly, the horse does most of the work.”
Mandy brushed her blond bangs off her forehead. She was maybe ten or eleven, a good reader who was always up for trying a new author. Even better, from Annabelle’s perspective, the other girls listened to Mandy. If she liked a new book, they would try it as well.
“So I could try?”
“Yes. Of course. Riding is fun.” Annabelle thought about her experiences on Khatar. “They’re kind of big, so it’s a little scary when you’re first on them, but then it gets fun. You have to hold on with your legs and wow, was I sore afterward. But in a good way.”
“Thank you,” Mandy said with a grin. “I’m going to tell my brother he’s wrong.”
“Enjoy yourself.”
* * *
CHARLIE PUT THE DANDY brush back in the box and grabbed Mason’s body brush. His ears flicked in anticipation of what was his favorite part of being groomed. As she started at the top of his neck, prepared to work her way down and back, she was aware of Shane coming out of the barn. His gaze darted toward her, then as quickly shifted away.
Charlie had never studied any kind of criminal investigation but she knew enough about people to guess there was a problem. She and Shane hadn’t known each other long, but they’d gotten along well enough. He took care of her horse when she was working and she let him use Mason for the guys who needed to practice their calf roping. Mason had been a rodeo horse before she’d bought him and he enjoyed the practice.
But ever since she’d arrived, earlier that afternoon, Shane had been hovering just out of conversational reach. They hadn’t spoken beyond a brief “Hello” which wouldn’t have bothered her except for the way he kept looking at her. As if he’d been spooked. She had a feeling she knew exactly what ghost had come calling.
“Shane,” she yelled before he could scoot back into the barn. “Get over here.”
He stiffened slightly, then seemed to brace himself. No doubt prepared for the inevitable, she thought grimly, continuing to use long stroking motions as she brushed Mason. His coat gleamed in the warm afternoon.
She’d tied him under one of the big trees to give them both shade. As the branches swayed in the gentle breeze, sunlight spilled onto his coat and the back of her hands.
Shane approached slowly but purposefully. If she were a different type of woman, she would torment him first. Just for sport. It was certainly in her nature, but men, at least in a romantic or sexual sense, weren’t part of her comfort zone.
She waited until he was standing on the other side of Mason, then rested both her hands on the horse’s back and stared at the man.
“Annabelle talked to you about me.” She spoke flatly, not asking a question.
He pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. After clearing his throat, he managed a strangled, “She might have said something.”
Annabelle needed a good killing, Charlie thought, even as she told herself her friend had just been trying to help. Apparently with the subtlety of a bulldozer in a flower garden.
“You’re not my type,” Charlie told him, figuring bluntness was her strength and this was the time to go for it. “No offense.”
He practically sagged with relief. “None taken. Not that you’re not appealing,” he added weakly.
“Of course. Practically keeping you up at night.”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “Just like I do you.”
“Right.”
She returned her attention back to her horse and continued to brush him. “She’s trying to help. Annabelle has a burr up her ass about me dating. God knows who else she’s talking to.”
“It’s not just me?” Shane raised his eyebrows. “I’m devastated.”
“I can tell.” She glanced over Mason at him again. “Although I would say Annabelle was more to your liking.”
Shane had been about to put his hat back on his head. He paused, almost comically, his arms extended in the air, the hat frozen in time.
“I, ah, I’m not sure what…”
“Is that so?” Charlie relaxed, knowing they weren’t talking about her anymore. Now she could afford to have a little fun. “Good to know. By the way, Annabelle is well-liked in town. Don’t hurt her or you’ll be sorry.”
He managed to set his hat on his head. “We’re not even dating and already you’re imagining we’ve broken up and it’s my fault?”
“She’s my friend.”
“I look after your horse.”
“It’s not the same.” She looked past him to the fenced-in area across the property. Priscilla stood where she always did, watching what was going on, looking as solitary as it was possible for an elephant to look.
“Your girl there needs a friend. Don’t elephants like companionship?”
He turned, following her gaze. “From what I’ve been reading, they do. I’ve tried the llamas, the donkey and a couple of the goats. She likes Athena, but they didn’t really bond.”
“What about one of your mares? Maybe the pregnant one. Priscilla might like to be a grandmother.”
Shane hadn’t been able to get an accurate read on how old the elephant was. Priscilla had come from a small circus that was disbanding. Her caretaker had guessed she was in her late twenties. Although elephants in the wild could live well past fifty, they didn’t live as long in captivity.
His research had given him information on the best way to care for Priscilla. In the past month, a pond had been dug for her and he’d brought in trees and plants for her. But he hadn’t been able to find her a friend.
“A pregnant mare is a good idea,” he told Charlie. “I’m going to try that.”
He walked toward Priscilla, wanting to check out the area next to her pen. As he approached, she shook her head and stomped her foot. Almost as if she were threatening him.
Shane paused. He had to admit he didn’t have a lot of experience with elephants, but he and Priscilla had always gotten along.
“What’s the matter, girl?” he asked, moving toward her more slowly. “You feeling okay?”
She raised her trunk and angled toward him. He stopped again. There was something familiar about what she was doing. A memory tickled in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite…
She was protecting something, he realized, looking around for whatever had gotten into her area. A small dog, maybe? A raccoon?
He eased forward, holding his arms at his sides so she didn’t think he was trying to make himself look bigger and more threatening. Not that she wasn’t the bigger mammal.
At first he didn’t see anything. Then he caught a flicker of movement. He eased forward, then crouched down.
“Damn,” he murmured softly. “You’re kidding, right?”
There, at the base of a tree, in a hollowed-out area in the trunk, was a cat and four kittens.
The mother was a calico, with tabby markings instead of black. Two of her kittens were tabby, one was a marmalade and the last was all black. They were tiny, maybe a week or so old.
Priscilla walked over to the tree, then bent down. Her trunk lightly stroked the cat. The cat closed her eyes and seemed to go to sleep.
He knew about the cats that came to visit when the goats were milke
d and this wasn’t one of them. She looked more feral than the goats’ daily visitors. He was also aware that while Priscilla would provide impressive protection and that there was plenty of water in the pen, the elephant was an herbivore. Whatever the mama cat was eating, she would have to catch it herself.
He stared at the elephant. “Because I needed one more thing?”
Her wise eyes seemed to crinkle with amusement.
He went back to the house, got some chicken out of the refrigerator, cut it up, then added cat food to the shopping list his mother kept. After taking the plate to the edge of the fencing, he slid it as close as he dared. Priscilla watched him warily, still standing guard over her new family.
He shook his head and walked away.
He’d gotten all of twenty feet when two SUVs drove onto the property and parked by the barn. What seemed like twenty, but was probably only five or six, girls spilled out and swarmed all around him.
“Are you really a cowboy?”
“Do horses bite?”
“Can I really learn to ride?”
“Can we braid the horses’ tails?”
“Do any of the horses have blue eyes?”
“What’s that smell?”
The drivers got out of the cars. They were both women he might or might not have recognized from his visits to town. Nothing about the situation should have been dangerous, but he couldn’t help the feeling that his life had just taken a turn for the difficult.
“Ladies,” he said, touching the brim of his hat. “How can I help you?”
“We’re here for the horseback riding lessons.”
* * *
SHANE WAS WAITING WHEN Annabelle arrived at the ranch. He looked stern and rugged, in a sexy kind of way. Not that she was going to allow his killer smile to distract her. The man obviously needed his priorities set straight.
She got out of her car, but before she could start to complain, he said, “We have to talk.”
“Good. I was thinking the same thing. I’ve been getting calls. Calls from mothers with daughters who are crushed that you won’t teach them to ride. What’s the big deal? You have horses, a ranch. I know you can do it. I saw you with that rodeo guy. He was learning and you were helping. These women are paying customers and this is your business. Why are you being so difficult?”
Summer Nights Page 7
