“Yeah. No. I don’t know.” He shook his head and blew out a long breath. “There was just something different about her, Linc. I can’t explain it. Hell, maybe it was just Cady getting into my head.”
“Nah, man. I may have been across the bar, but I saw your body language change the instant you looked into her eyes. And you know what else, Logan? So did hers. It was like you both relaxed and drew closer. Like there was some sort of invisible pull. Weird shit, man.”
“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, having already thought the same thing. “I’m not sure what to make of it. Or if I even want to. So, I figure if it’s meant to be, then we’ll meet up without me looking for her. After all, she’s supposed to be my soulmate, right?”
Before his brother could reply, Logan’s phone rang through the speakers, quieting ZZ Top, thanks to synch technology. He glanced at the number.
“It’s Dad,” he said before hitting the button on his steering wheel to answer the call. “Hey, Dad. Sorry we didn’t call Mom but we’re not home yet. Still about another five minutes to go. We stopped to have a beer with Joseph and Cady.”
“I’ll tell her, but that’s not why I called.”
He exchanged a frown with his brother as he finally made the turn onto the private three mile road that led to their ranch. “Oh? Is something wrong?”
“No. It’s just business,” his father rushed to assure. “Look, I know you’re not even back in the saddle yet, but I hired a graphic artist to work on a campaign for some new outdoor equipment. She’s going to help us beat Bass this time, but I need you to teach her how to use the stuff properly so she can get a feel for each piece. Her name’s Chloe Davis.”
Son-of-a…
He hit the brakes while his heart dropped to his boots.
Chloe?
A tremor shook through Logan’s hand as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. More weird shit. He glanced at his silent brother. Linc’s slack jawed expression summed up the shock still rendering Logan useless.
“I already emailed you all her contact information,” his father continued to speak, oblivious to the bombshell he’d just dropped.
Thank God.
The last thing Logan needed was his parents getting a whiff of Cady’s prediction that Chloe was his soulmate. His mother would be offering to plan his wedding.
“Ms. Davis is actually at a hotel in Kerrville on business right now, so that’s why I’m eager for you to get started. Maybe you can offer her a place to stay at the ranch. You have a few buildings.”
“Great idea, Dad. The cottage would be perfect, and if not, there’s always room at the main house,” Linc said with a grin, throwing him right under the damn bus. “And I think Logan already ran into this Chloe person at Hardbodies.”
He hauled off and punched the asshole in the shoulder before stepping on the gas and continuing down the drive.
“Really? Huh, small world,” his dad replied. “Well, like I said, her contact information is in the email, and I’ve also listed the equipment for this campaign. Look it over. If you think there’s anything else we should include, then go ahead.”
“Okay.”
“And, Logan, I told her to expect your call, so please contact her today. This is important to me. I want to make sure it’s done right. Please take her on as many trial runs as she needs. I’d really like to beat Bass’ in sales for the next quarter. I have a good feeling about this.”
“So does Logan,” Linc mumbled out the side of his mouth too low for their dad to hear.
Asshole.
He punched him again.
“All right, I’ll let you and Ms. Davis do your thing. Just keep me in the loop.”
Thankfully, his dad hung up before Linc’s off-color remark about recreational sports.
“You’re an ass, you know that?” Logan grumbled as he passed the dirt drive that led to an old house Lincoln had started to renovate before they’d deployed last year. The urge to drop the bastard right there with his gear was strong. Jerk deserved it, but he continued toward the main house.
The property was originally owned by their mother’s godfather. Ever since he was little, Logan could remember visiting and had nothing but fond memories of climbing pecan trees and sitting against a cypress while casting a line in the Guadalupe River. When his mother inherited the property, she surprised him and his brothers by signing it over to them.
Best thing to happen to him ATI—after the injury.
Ever since he lost his shot at the majors, Logan categorized his memories as BTI or ATI—Before The Injury or After The Injury—because his goals changed. Before it was practice, practice, practice, constantly eating and breathing baseball, praying he didn’t slip up because there was always someone waiting in the wings for a chance to knock him off the mound and take his brass ring. Now, after serving two tours, fighting for survival, praying he didn’t slip up because there was always someone waiting in the wings for a chance to kill him, it changed his perspective on life. Changed him. People were important. Life was precious. Relaxation was the key to de-stressing.
And there was no place like home.
With three houses and two small cabins spaced far enough apart on the eleven hundred acre ranch—small by McCall standards, but perfect for him and his brothers—they each had their privacy and two small cottages to spare. Mac had called dibs on the large cabin by the river for when he actually dropped in, and Linc wanted to renovate the old two-story, so that left the main house for Logan. He was slowly updating one room at a time and Linc was staying with him while he was renovating.
He drove by one of the tiny cabins, used in the past by housekeepers and cooks, and finally, the main house came into view. A five bedroom, three bath, white plank two-story with three dormers, a porch that wrapped around to connect with the screened in porch out back, two swings and a wooden screen door that smacked you in the ass if you didn’t get inside before it slammed shut.
Home.
Logan could feel the tension easing off his shoulders as he parked and got out to greet their handyman waiting on the steps.
“Hey, Hick,” he said, shaking the man’s hand and pulling him in for a backslapping hug.
Earl Hickory, Hick for short, lived in the other small cabin behind the stable and watched over the property. A widower in his sixties, he took care of their horses, collected their mail, and kept up with the general maintenance and landscaping, whether they were deployed or not. His late wife used to do the housekeeping and cooking for the original owner. Hick had lived and worked there for over forty years. When their mother had inherited the property, not once had they even considered letting him go.
He wasn’t just a good worker, he was a good friend. An old friend.
“Great to see you boys.” He released Logan to greet Linc the same way. “Come on inside. I had the cleaning service come out and give it a good once over and stock the fridge. You should be good for a while, unless you throw a party.”
“Not likely. Have you met my brother?” Linc joked.
Logan chuckled as he and his brother retrieved their duffle bags from behind the seat. “If I’d wanted a party I wouldn’t have turned down the McCoy’s offer.”
“True.” His brother slung his bag over his shoulder. “They can throw a barbeque like no other.”
Hick held the door open for them, nodding at Logan as he passed. “Looks like you already enjoyed some barbeque, or maybe wings. Although, you’re supposed to eat with your mouth.”
Linc’s laughter followed him into the house. “My brother prefers his wings served with a body slam by a pretty woman.”
“Is that right?”
Logan could hear the interest in Hick’s tone, but he kept quiet, too busy letting the peace of his surroundings wash over him. It was damn good to be home.
Without stopping, he dropped his duffle near the stairs and continued through the open concept floor plan to the large kitchen in back.
Damn, he’d forgotten what a
good job they’d done updating the cabinets and counters, adding a massive island in the middle with five bar stools on the back end. In the two years he owned the place, Logan brought the closed off dysfunctional downstairs into the twenty-first century. It was a great place to raise a family.
Whoa. Where the hell had that thought come from?
“Speaking of body slamming pretty women.” Linc grabbed three cans of iced tea from the fridge, set two on the counter and opened the third. “Aren’t you supposed to call her and move her in here?”
Hick choked on his tea, pounding his chest twice before his gaze focused on him. “A woman’s moving in with you?”
He muttered a curse. “No. There’s no woman moving in here. At least, not like that.” He went on to explain the situation. “I think she’d be much more comfortable in the cottage.”
A pained look bunched Hick’s face. “My niece moved in there two months ago, remember? You said it was okay.”
Shit. “Yeah, I forgot. Don’t worry about it. How’s she doing?”
The poor woman lost her husband last year in a helicopter crash. Hick had asked if she could rent the cottage when her lease was up. Logan felt bad because they hadn’t had a chance to update it yet, other than a coat of paint on the walls and new appliances.
“As good as can be expected. That first year is real hard.” The older man’s sad gaze was full of knowing. “But, she seems to find her smile a little more often lately. I should get going. I actually talked her into going to San Antonio tonight to the Riverwalk for supper and to listen to some music.” Hick cupped his shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.” His gaze shifted to Linc leaning against the counter. “You…I’m not so sure.”
A smirk twisted his lips as he walked out the back door.
“Well…” Linc straightened to walk over and slap him on the back. “Looks like you have no choice but to have Chloe stay here. Good thing my room’s on this floor. Don’t need to hear you two body slamming.”
“You’re an ass,” he grumbled, while his body instantly heated at the thought. Which was insane. He didn’t even know this woman. Barely saw her for about ten seconds. Although, they were a great ten seconds. Holding her in his arms, staring into those warm brown eyes, he felt like he’d known her his whole life. Still, his dad asked him to work with the woman, not lust after her. “You’re forgetting this is business related.”
“No, you’re forgetting the part about her being your soulmate.”
He didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want to think about that. He shook his head and drank the rest of his iced tea.
“Remember in the truck, when you said you weren’t going to look for her because if she was your soulmate you’d cross paths? Then Dad called and laid the woman in your lap? And then asked you to bring her to this ranch?” Linc snorted as he picked up his duffle bag and ambled toward his room. “Doesn’t get more soulmate than that, bro.”
True. Vestiges of shock still lingered.
“Call her.” His brother’s voice echoed down the hall.
Grumbling, he pulled the cell from his pocket and set it on the counter to access his email. Reading about the woman whose flowery scent he could still smell on his shirt, Logan held his breath as he read through her statistics afraid to discover she was married, and equally terrified to discover if she wasn’t. He didn’t date. Didn’t do relationships. Didn’t trust. So why the hell did he feel a relief so immense that he exhaled when he learned she was single?
He stared at his phone, pulse pounding hard in his tight chest, and stupid palms sweating as if he were a teenager trying to get up the courage to ask a girl out on his first date.
It was ridiculous. This was business related. He punched in her number.
“Hello?”
Her voice had a sweet, breathless quality the phone magnified, sending shivers down his side. A reaction that had nothing to do with business.
He gave his head a shake and straightened his spine. “Hi, Ms. Davis? This is Logan McCall. I’m following up on my father’s behalf.”
“Yes, Mr. McCall. Hello. Your father did tell me you’d be in touch.”
God, she sounded so sweet, and knowing she was beautiful with mouthwatering curves that fit perfectly against him was making it hard to remain professional.
And making him hard.
Dammit. He shifted his weight to relieve the pressure behind his zipper and got back to business. Since the woman, no doubt, had no idea they’d already met, he decided to keep that knowledge to himself. She’d learn otherwise soon enough.
By the time he hung up with plans to meet her for breakfast tomorrow morning in the town of Comfort five minutes away, he was ready for a cold shower.
Working with the woman and keeping it professional would be tougher than he thought. His father rarely asked anything of him, especially when it came to the company. He trusted Logan’s decisions enough to let him do his thing. Now, he was trusting him to take care of Ms. Davis.
Trouble was the way his body reacted during his brief encounter with the woman, take care of held an entirely different meaning.
Chapter Four
Excitement raced through Chloe at the prospect of starting a new project as she followed the directions on her GPS to the restaurant in Comfort for her breakfast meeting. This was her favorite part. The start of the creative process. Finding that certain something. The spark.
Of course, she wouldn’t have to look far for that. Logan McCall was all spark.
He was also somewhat her boss.
And already off limits due to her almost killing him in that flood.
And painting him with wing sauce yesterday.
Lordy, she could hardly wait to see what disaster she brought on him this hour.
Yes, yes she could wait. Hopefully, the powers that be would see to it the poor guy went home later unscathed.
Right now, she was trying to figure out how to react when she met up with him. On the phone yesterday, she’d pretended not to know he was coated in her dinner, hiding behind the anonymity afforded by the call.
No hiding now, she thought as she pulled up next to his truck. The one she’d touched without permission. Thankfully, it was empty. He must be inside. She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “You can do this,” Chloe told herself in the rearview. “He doesn’t know about the flood. It’s a simple business meeting.”
She got out, slung her purse over her shoulder, straightened her third favorite business blouse—a light peach button-down that made her feel happy—and walked into the restaurant, feeling confident thanks to her navy business skirt and pumps. He blinked and immediately stood up from a booth, grin spreading across his handsome face.
“Hello, Ms. Davis.” He held out his hand, those gorgeous eyes of his alight with a sexy damn twinkle. “So nice to officially meet you.”
“You too, Mr. McCall. Please call me Chloe.” She smiled, shaking his hand, her whole body coming to life with that simple touch.
“All right, Chloe.” He made her name sound beautiful.
It was insane.
So was her pulse, beating incessantly, stirring up the butterflies swarming her stomach. Where the hell did they come from? This was a business meeting. She needed to act like it.
“As long as you call me Logan.”
His close proximity was getting to her. She could’ve sworn his eyes dilated. Time to break the amped up awareness happening between them.
“Logan,” she responded. “And don’t worry. You’re safe. I’m not wielding any wings today.”
He laughed and released her to wave at the booth where a carafe and two cups sat on the table. “Please, have a seat, and some coffee.” Then he waited for her sit before he retook his seat.
“Thank you.” She eagerly filled the empty cup a third of the way with milk, dropped in two spoons of sugar before adding coffee.
A grin tugged his lips. “Like a little coffee with your milk, do you?”
“Somet
hing like that.” She laughed.
“Did you find the place okay?”
“Oh, yes. It was a piece of cake. I have GPS, but some of it was familiar, too.”
Shoot.
Stupid, uncaffeinated brain.
She should’ve stopped for coffee before leaving Kerrville. It was a proven fact she didn’t function properly until she finished a cup. Sometimes two.
He sat back in his seat and nodded. “That’s right, it said in your file you were originally from Texas before you moved to Nevada.”
Her heart literally rocked in her chest, and she stared at him a beat, wondering what else was in her file, but when he continued to regard her with a laidback friendliness, she relaxed. “Yes. My stepmother’s doing. But my sister and I have been wanting to move back here ever since.”
“Where were you originally from?”
The waitress arrived and saved her from answering. Although, for all the attention the blonde paid Chloe, she might as well have been invisible. The petite woman, who probably never laid down to zip up a pair of jeans in her life, brushed the table with her hip, just in front of Chloe’s elbow. “What would you like?” she asked Logan in a voice way too soft to be real, shifting closer to him to write down his order, giving Chloe a great view of her back.
Then she flicked her hair over her shoulder.
Talk about blatant. Not that she blamed the woman. Logan looked hot in a gray athletic T-shirt with the company logo stretched cross his defined chest. And she’d define that chest as fine.
Oh my God, I need more caffeine.
She reached for her cup and downed half the brew. When she finally came up for air, both Logan and the waitress were staring at her. Perfect time to give her order. Since she couldn’t decide between French toast or bacon and eggs, she ordered blueberry pancakes.
The waitress blinked at her. “Yeah. Sure.” Then turned back to Logan. “I forgot to ask how you liked your eggs. Hard or over easy?”
“Scrambled,” he replied, oblivious to the flirting, or unconcerned, either way, he made no attempt to flirt back.
Hell Yeah!: Her Hell Yeah Cowboy (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Harland County Series Book 8) Page 4
