Where was her spark? The flash when he had angered her? This meek, demure woman was in no way related to the spitfire with battle written all over her when they had locked horns last night. He took a swallow of water to wet his dry mouth, then stood with his feet set far apart, hand on his waist. Of course she’d show him a different side of her since the first one had failed to elicit the expected response. Women have the amazing ability to change personalities like he changed bedding in the horse stalls. How much could he push before she revealed her true self?
“Being my wife means preparing meals for me and my family every day. You’ll be expected to do my laundry and clean up after me. And I’m a very messy man.” He loomed above her, his mouth set in a scowl.
Ainsley’s lips cracked the barest of smiles when she finally gave him her attention. “Then I hope you’re a fan of take-out and dull whites. Can I still lasso you for my husband if I have no domestic skills to recommend me?”
There. That battle face. The prickle of satisfaction, like he had coaxed a frightened animal to safety, swept through his body.
“Oh, sit down, Cowboy. You don’t have to try to frighten me.” She waved to the chair.
He stood for a moment longer before settling in. He hoped this was the real her. It was better than the timid mouse that had walked into the room. “I wasn’t trying to frighten you.”
Again, that hint of a smile that sent his pulse on a gallop. “What would you call it, then?”
“Okay, maybe I was. But only a little.”
She laughed then, her grin making its way to her eyes and transforming the seriousness of her features. “I’ll make this easy on you. Meagan told me you need to know if I can cook and ride, and the answers are no and yes. I grew up around horses. My favorite Chinese restaurant is on speed dial and I have the number for the pizza place memorized. If there’s no delivery here, I’m in a lot of trouble.”
Her open, honest response caught his attention more than any attempt to impress him ever would. Riley relaxed for possibly the first time that night.
“I didn’t know about your father,” she blurted, inspecting her lap.
The relaxation turned into an icy shock that took over his body, his fingers curling into the arms of the chair. “What?” He’d been expecting manipulation, but her playfulness got him to lower his guard. Now she pulled the emotional card. Oh, she was good.
“Molly told some of us what happened. I’m—I’m sorry. I can’t image the pain you and your family must’ve gone through. Are going through. I didn’t want to sit here and pretend all light and happiness when you must still be so devastated.” Her perfect lean toward him and gentle touch on his arm displayed her amazing acting skills. He didn’t need her false compassion.
Maybe now he was supposed to get all sniffly at her pretend understanding and share his feelings. He kept his voice low. “And are you here to comfort me?”
“I don’t know what I can offer, but whatever I can do.”
His disgust grew so overpowering he ripped his arm from her grasp and stormed away from the chair before he turned and glowered at her. “Go home, Ainsley Fairfax. Go play your little games with someone else.” His cold tone left no room for explanations or arguments.
Her eyebrows drew down and she gave a small shake of her head. “Me? What are you talking about? I’m not playing games.”
“I know your type. Little Miss Sweetness until you get what you want, and then you do a personality shift so not even your mother would recognize you. Get out of here.”
“Oh, man, are you one heck of a psycho.” She jumped to her feet, her barely-there accent getting more prominent in her anger. “Tell me something, Cowboy. Are you such a misogynist that your idea of fun is having women travel across the country to make fools of themselves for you? Does that get your rocks off? You don’t want to be with any of us or get married anyway. You’re absolutely unreal.”
An ache started at his temples and a small nagging part of him insisted that maybe she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was only trying to show compassion, and he took it as manipulation. It may have been a little too much. Plus she had nailed him on the getting married part. “Wait.”
She stopped at the door with her hand on the knob. A sigh escaped her lips and she rested her forehead on the jamb, keeping her face away from him.
“There’s a possibility—a small one—that I may have overreacted.”
She gave a breathy snort and tilted around to look at him without breaking contact with the door. “Yeah?”
He strode to her and touched her arm, her knotted muscles a clear indication of the tension surrounding her. “Yeah.”
A moment later she relaxed and slid around so her back was against the door, her guileless expression an easy read. “I wasn’t trying to play you.”
“I know.” He ran his hand through his hair. Trust had been an issue since his mother left. But he also had to learn not every woman he met was going to try to control him.
“I’m not even supposed to be here.” Her eyes drifted to the floor.
That caught his attention. “What do you mean?”
She lifted one smooth shoulder. “It’s no big deal. Only that my sister was going to come instead of me.”
Jeanne opened the door before Ainsley could explain further. “Time’s up!”
She darted a glance at the teen and opened her mouth to speak, but closed it before saying anything else and followed Jeanne out of the room. Before she stepped into the hall, though, she stopped with an arm on the door frame and paused for a brief moment before she waved good-bye.
Well, that was unexpected. He took a drink of water, this time not noticing its icy slide down his throat. Where was she supposed to be, if not here? Molly opened the door and ushered in the next woman.
“Riley, this is Daisy,” she said, then left them alone.
“Won’t you… uh…” His mind blanked as Daisy sashayed past him, her dark plaid skirt barely covering her well-shaped rear end. She trailed her fingers across his chest, displaying her plunging neckline as she passed him. Her cloying perfume assaulted his nostrils and he had to turn his head to get a good breath. When she sat, he had a suspicion he would become intimately acquainted with the color of her underwear. If she was wearing any.
Riley started back toward his chair but Daisy stopped him. “All the way over there, Tiger? Scared of little ol’ me?” Her assessing slant devoured him and she patted the cushion next to her. He paused, torn, afraid of what she’d do if he chose the chair. Maybe curl up in his lap. He sat on the couch as close to the arm as possible.
“How are you enjoying Wyoming so far?” he asked. Conversation was good. Then he could ignore her exposed cleavage that seemed to sparkle unnaturally. His eyes kept darting down, try as he might to keep them on her face. A well-pleased and seductive curve of her mouth told him he wasn’t fooling her at all.
Daisy curled her legs so she was on her knees and leaned toward him. “It’s getting better all the time.” Riley swore she purred, and she crawled across the small space between them. Surely she wouldn’t…
Her lips barely grazed his and he bolted to his feet. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, heading for the refreshments. The cozy room was too small to put much more space between them.
“You’re being the perfect gentleman. Stop it.” Daisy stalked him and raked her red nails from his shoulders down his chest, ending the seductive slide by hooking her fingers in his belt. He gripped the table to keep himself steady, nearly pulling off the decorative white cloth Molly had used to dress it up. He couldn’t move away without bodily touching her, so instead he tried to get her claws away from him. His thoughts left his mind altogether when Daisy started swaying her hips against his, dancing to her own music. She turned and took a few steps before showing him the practiced moves of an exotic dancer. He had answers to his questions. Yes, and pink with white daisies.
Riley slid to the side, hoping to put some furniture between t
hem, but Daisy followed him. She ended her dance by jumping into his arms. His arms shot out to catch her before he realized he should have let her fall on her rump. Once secure in his hold, she wrapped her hands around his neck and tried to pull him down. Immediately he dropped one of his arms and guided her with the other to the floor so she didn’t fall, but pressed his head against the wall to avoid her searching, eager mouth.
Thankfully Jeanne approached the room like a herd of wild horses. Daisy curled her fingers into his shirt and tipped her chin up, her lips grazing his neck like a pesky moth. “Later, Tiger.”
She stepped away seconds before his sister entered. “Time’s up,” Jeanne said.
Daisy curled her fingers like a paw to wave and sashayed out the door. His sister’s stifled giggles filled the small room and she poked his neck with her finger and showed him smeared lipstick. He grabbed a napkin and wiped it away while glaring at his little sister.
“Molly thought you could use a break,” Jeanne said. “And she wanted me to tell you to eat something.”
Riley had to remind himself his oldest sister had been mothering Seth and Jeanne for a long time. It was only natural to include Riley in the mix, too. He stuffed a meatball in his mouth and Molly walked into the small room.
“How’s it going so far?” she asked.
Patience. He fortified himself with a deep breath. They’re only doing this because they love me and want me happy. “Pretty well. Though I think I upset Mary Ellen.”
“What happened?” Molly flopped down on the sofa.
“I think she got offended when I asked her if she could cook.”
“Hmmm. I wonder why. I mean, it’s not like you asked her without any explanation, right?”
Was that it? “You said I needed to find out how comfortable they are in the kitchen,” he defended himself.
“You just out and asked her?” Molly sat up straight, horror etched on her face.
“Yes. What’s the big deal? It’s not like I asked her to tell me her bra size or something.” He peered over at Jeanne, her face mirroring Molly’s look of mortification. “Don’t most girls cook?”
“Men do, too, you know,” Jeanne said, crossing her arms over her orange shirt.
Riley mulled that over. “So, you’re saying she thinks I only wanted her for her skills in the kitchen?”
Molly closed her eyes and leaned back, using one hand to rub her forehead. “Tell you what, big brother. I’ll get Mary Ellen to come back. We’ll tell her your nerves overtook you and made it hard for you to have a coherent conversation.”
“She’ll probably buy that I’m simpleminded and don’t know how to talk to a woman,” he said, meeting Molly’s narrowed stare with a blank one of his own. “Let’s just leave it where it is. You got any more ideas?”
“I’m idea-ed out. Lucky for you. I was on a roll when Jeannie and I came up with this big shebang.” He gave a mock shudder and Molly looked at her watch and stood up. “Don’t forget to eat something. You’re starting to look worn down.”
Thanks, Molly, he wanted to say. I don’t know how I survived living away from home without you being there telling me to eat. “Where’s Seth?”
“Doing chores, I hope. I haven’t seen him all day, and he was supposed to be here tonight.”
His brother was missing again. Riley didn’t know if he should be concerned. Maybe he should talk to the school counselor or something.
“Oh, and don’t forget to write down bits about each woman to help you decide who you want to match up with.” Molly left with Jeanne trailing behind her.
He had no intention of writing down his thoughts and feelings. He’d wait until morning, and if he could remember any details, he’d tell her then. If he couldn’t, then it wasn’t worth it.
Two more women filtered in and out of the room. It didn’t matter. Riley stifled a yawn, checking his list to see who was next. Jewel. He recalled her lively brown eyes and how she didn’t stalk him at the brunch or bother him during Scarlet’s foal. She didn’t invoke the same primal reaction in him that Ainsley did, but she didn’t mess up his mind, either.
Molly’s nagging hung in the room around him, so he popped a meatball in his mouth. Right when the door opened and Jewel sauntered in. He gestured to the sofa instead of spraying her with food.
“Good evening.” She slid across the room, showing off her trim figure in a pair of tight black pants and a form-fitting red silk shirt, her lips as full and inviting as Riley remembered from that morning.
“I’m so glad we have this opportunity to be together away from everyone else.” She sat down and crossed her slim legs. Riley took his solitary seat on the chair. “The brunch was so crazy with everyone trying to talk to you. I tried to wait my turn but I was afraid someone else would snag your heart before I had a chance.” She laughed briefly, then fell silent and brushed the arm of the sofa with her fingertips, her face a picture of tranquil serenity.
He waited for her to say something else and started to say something when she remained quiet, but her gaze darted toward him so quickly and she leaned forward. He closed his mouth so she could speak, but a lengthy silence followed and he twitched in his seat. She kept her eyes on his, her brows raised and eyes wide open, as if to encourage him to talk.
“How are you with horses?” he finally asked to end the prickling stillness around them.
“I used to ride all the time. I was one of those little girls that begged and begged my parents for a pony when I was growing up.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and flashed her bright teeth. “My brothers teased me mercilessly about it.”
“Molly begged for an Arabian mare so she could pretend it was the Black Stallion’s offspring.” Horses. A conversation he could handle. “I’m sure I teased her, too.” The silence pressed down on them again and Jewel kept her eyes on his with an expectant look on her face. What was she waiting for? Finally he brought up the second subject.
“I love to cook.” She leaned in with interest and he got a hint of her subtle, flowered scent. “I’ve even taken gourmet classes. After long hours of student rotations and studying, nothing relaxes me more than cooking food with names I don’t know how to pronounce.” She laughed then, a light, airy sound that didn’t have any substance, like she was forcing it out. Ainsley’s amusement had been genuine, not this detached disposition.
He was thinking way too much about that woman. “It’s nice that you have something that you enjoy so much.”
“Great for you, too,” she said, displaying her perfect smile. “I can cook you a meal that will knock your boots off.”
The door handle turned and Seth entered the room, and Riley's attention zeroed in on his brother. Sweat matted his hair and a thin film of dirt covered his chin and right cheek. What had he been doing?
“I can’t believe I have to leave already.” Jewel lightly squeezed Riley’s arm. “I hope you’ll be able to talk to me again later.”
“I will,” Riley said. Seth moved to follow Jewel out of the room but Riley stopped him with a hand on his arm. He waited until the door closed. “Where have you been?”
Seth shrugged him off. “Out.”
“Out where? Molly was worried about you.”
“Molly worries if my hair isn’t combed. It’s no big deal, Ry. I was out.” He stalked out the door. Riley didn’t stop him.
Moving back home had required adjustments, but Riley hadn’t counted on playing the part of the father or having to lecture his brother on his lack of respect for his family. His stomach twisted. Seth was nearly seventeen and wouldn’t get the paternal wisdom and friendship that had guided and helped Riley through adulthood. He could only hope to do half as well as their dad had.
“Riley, this is Leigh,” Jeanne announced.
Geez, he wasn’t done yet? He stole a glance at the list, his thoughts still on his brother. After this woman, Riley would be free to find him. “Good evening.”
“This is so different from home.” Leigh’s s
piciness wafted to him as she passed him on her way to the sofa. “My family owns a vineyard, so the work ethic is the same, but raising sheep sure is different from raising grapes. There are several things I’m curious about.”
“Like what?” He settled himself down for ranch talk and crossed a booted foot over his other knee, thrilled that he had another opportunity to discuss something other than cooking and equestrian skills.
“I find it interesting that everyone does everything on your ranch. You could get much more work done if you assigned a person to a particular ranch location and had them responsible only for that part.” She took a small spiral notebook and a pen out of her purse.
She took notes in the one day she was at the Crescent Ridge? No wonder Molly the meticulous one chose her. Leigh’s eyes seemed almost purple, and he wasn’t sure if mother nature or her optometrist was responsible. She wore her blue suit with such sophistication she seemed like she was about to attend a business meeting, but he was sure she’d be real pretty if she let herself loosen up.
“I don’t want the hands to get bored with the same job every day,” he explained.
“Your workers would be more cost-effective focusing only on one job. That’s the way we handle things at the vineyard.” Leigh frowned at his apparent lack of understanding.
“A vineyard isn’t the same as a ranch,” Riley countered.
She frowned and chewed her lower lip for a moment. “I suppose there are some differences,” she allowed. She flipped to the next page. “I’m also curious as to why you go around on horses. I would think Jeeps would be much more efficient.”
“I suppose that’s how you go around at the vineyard?” He gripped the vinyl upholstery to keep himself planted in the chair. Her passion for her land was understandable, but he hadn’t expected the need to defend his lifestyle.
Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy? Page 8
