Taming the Montana Millionaire

by Teresa Southwick

  “Let’s not wallow,” he suggested.

  “Not even for a couple minutes?”

  He shook his head. “Action is what you need. I’ll sweep up the glass. Do you have a measuring tape?” When she nodded, he said, “You measure for a new window. Then we’ll go to the hardware store. It’ll be good as new.”

  It was impossible not to perk up the way he was snapping out orders. She wondered what he was like to work for.

  Haley handed him the broom. “So, do your employees cower in fear when they see you coming?”

  “No. I’m the world’s best boss.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I’m not in the office all that much.”

  “Where do you go?” she asked.

  “The better question is where don’t I go.” He pulled the trash can over, then squatted down and picked up the biggest pieces of glass.

  “Okay. I’ll bite. Where don’t you go?” she asked.

  “Fiji. Polynesia. Tahiti.” He looked up and grinned. “Seriously.”

  “I’ve been all over the U.S. San Francisco. Seattle. New York. Washington, D.C.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m a salesman. It’s my job to meet with business people and convince them that the MC/TC brand will fly out of their stores.”

  “I bet you could probably sell beachfront property in Las Vegas,” she said.

  “It wouldn’t be easy.” He looked up and grinned. “But challenge is my middle name.”

  “Have you been to Las Vegas?”

  “Quite a few times. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but Vegas is the real deal. Very exciting. A buffet for the senses.”

  “How so?”

  He stood and leaned on the broom. “The first thing you notice are the lights. The Strip is all neon and turns night into day. Then you go inside and there are more lights, this time with the sound. Dings, bells, sirens. Any kind of food you can imagine is there. In fact, any decadence you’re looking for you can find.”

  “Wow.” She couldn’t help wondering how many decadences he’d had. “Where else have you been?”

  “The beach. Caribbean beaches are spectacular, but Malibu, Santa Barbara, Santa Monica—there’s an excitement to the California coast.”

  “I’ve never seen the ocean,” she admitted.

  He met her gaze and his expression was perilously close to pity. “No?”

  She shook her head, then busied herself pulling out the jagged glass remaining in the top of the door. “I’ve never been out of Montana.”

  “Be careful. Don’t cut yourself,” he warned.

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Easier said than done,” he muttered, then asked, “Wouldn’t you like to travel?”

  “I don’t think I’d find anything as beautiful as I’ve got here.”

  “I’m not saying Thunder Canyon isn’t spectacular. But it’s exciting to see other places.”

  “I guess I’ll have to take your word on that,” she said measuring the empty space where the window used to be.

  She didn’t cut herself on the glass, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dinged. For those few moments when he’d held her in his arms she’d been able to forget that he didn’t hang his hat in Thunder Canyon. But now his words brought her down to earth. It was a reminder that he might have family in town, but this wasn’t where he made his home.

  However generous he might be with his time right now, he’d be leaving and she shouldn’t get used to having him around permanently.

  But those few moments in his arms had been nicer than she would ever have imagined, much sweeter than she wanted them to be.

  “Look, you don’t have to stay here with me, Marlon, It’s nearly midnight.”

  And Marlon had been alone with Haley since it got dark. He knew he was going to have to tell her pretty soon why he was volunteering at ROOTS, but now wasn’t the time. Another night had passed, another break-in had occurred and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. She had a lot on her mind and he was more than happy to use the excuse that it was wrong to add to her burdens. Mostly he was dreading the look of betrayal in her eyes when she found out. Call him a coward, but it could be put off just a little longer.

  “No way I’m leaving,” he said.

  “Seriously, go home and get some sleep.”

  “Right,” he said wryly. “Like I could sleep while you wait here alone for a serial killer.”

  “He hasn’t killed anyone yet,” she pointed out.

  “That we know of,” he reminded her.

  Marlon was having serious doubts about his decision to stay and it had nothing to do with danger and everything to do with the scent of Haley’s skin. They were sitting on the floor at ROOTS, resting against the back of the ratty old sofa, out of sight from the front window and facing the doorway to the rear entrance.

  It was dark, not pitch black, but enough that he couldn’t see her features clearly. But he could smell the sweet, floral fragrance of her and there was a knot of need twisting in his gut. He was having a hell of a time not kissing her. And since all his senses besides sight were heightened, he could practically hear the soft, moany, girlish noise she’d made the first, last and only time he’d kissed her.

  That was six years ago and the memory picked now to torture him.

  “Did you hear me, Marlon?”

  It was like she could read his mind. “What?”

  “I said, you really should go. If the guy comes back I’ll just call 9-1-1. I’ve got my phone.”

  If only he could. Life would be less complicated. But his mother would give him hell and his father would have his hide. He might bend the speed limit rules, but he wasn’t a slug who would leave a defenseless woman to face an intruder.

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Haley. Two nights in a row someone got in—”

  “That’s because the hardware store didn’t have the size glass I need. We knew the patch was iffy.” She shifted on the hard floor and bumped him. “And the someone is a he.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “The toilet seat was left up,” she said confidently.

  “So speaks the crime scene investigator. All the more reason I should stay and back you up.”

  Against the wall with his mouth against hers, kissing the living daylights out of her. And he told himself he wasn’t completely selfish. If she had as much pent-up passion inside her as he thought, an explosion of it would chase the sadness from her eyes.

  It was always there, hovering, unless she was excited about something, like this project to pay it forward. Or when she was ticked off at him. Wouldn’t it be interesting to see if she was as responsive as he suspected in other ways? If kissing her wouldn’t complicate the hell out of everything, he’d do it and move on because concentrating on life after community service was hard when she looked so sad.

  “Okay,” she said, yawning. “You can stay. But I hope he comes soon.”

  That went double for him. When her shoulder brushed his arm, his skin caught fire and the blood drained from his head and pumped to points south of his belt.

  Haley squirmed around, trying to get comfortable. “If he doesn’t want to get caught, you’d think he’d pick somewhere else to break in.”

  “You wanted this place to be somewhere the kids would feel welcome,” he reminded her. “Obviously this guy got the vibe.”

  And speaking of vibes, he needed to take his mind off the ones that urged him to pull her into his arms. “So what do you think about Bo Clifton running for mayor?”

  “I’m all for it. He’s my best friend’s cousin.”

  “I didn’t know you and Elise Clifton were friends,” he said and felt her shrug.

  “She was a year older than me, but somehow we bonded. I think it had something to do with the fact that neither of us had a father.”

  Elise Clifton’s father had been murdered when she was twelve years old. Marlon didn’t know Haley’s story, but he
heard the sadness in her voice. Though he couldn’t see her expression, he knew there would be sadness there, too. “What happened to your dad?”

  “Beats me. He just left. I don’t really remember him.”

  Marlon waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, then.” He moved off of the sensitive subject. “What chance do you think Bo has in the election, now that he’s thrown his hat in the ring?”

  “It’s hard to say. Arthur Swinton has been around for years. He’s experienced and everyone knows him. It’s hard to argue against a family values platform.”

  It would be especially important to someone like Haley who had stepped into a difficult situation to take care of family, he thought. “What do you think of Bo?”

  There was silence for a few moments before she said, “He’s young and has fresh ideas that could shake things up. That’s not a bad thing. Especially with the economy in such big trouble.”

  “You got that right.”

  “Has your company been affected by the downturn?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah.” It was one of the things on his mind when he’d been pulled over for speeding. He’d been wondering whether to tough it out or sell out. The latter option would mean putting a lot of people out of work. That was something he didn’t take lightly.

  “What’s wrong, Marlon?”

  “Why?”

  “I could hear it in your voice. Something’s bothering you.”

  Apparently he wasn’t the only one whose other senses were heightened in the dark. “I just have some business things to work through.”

  “Anything I can—” A noise at the back door stopped her. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

  “Yeah. Stay here.” He put his hand on her arm and actually felt it when she was about to argue. “I mean it, Haley.”

  “Be careful, Marlon.”

  He nodded, then rolled to a standing position and soundlessly moved to the doorway and peeked into the storeroom. A shape was backlit by outside lights in the open door. Marlon ducked back and waited in the main room for the guy to move past him. When he did, Marlon grabbed him from behind.

  “Hey, man—”

  One of the lamps switched on and Marlon blinked against the brightness, but didn’t loosen his hold. “Haley, call the cops.”

  “He’s just a kid, Marlon.”

  “I didn’t know anyone was here.” The young voice cracked with the pleading tone. “Let me go. I won’t bother you again.”

  “Don’t hurt him,” Haley said.

  “Hurt him?” This jerk had spoiled a day that should have been happy for her. And all she could think about was not hurting this kid who had no respect for locks and rules? “Are you serious?”

  “Look at him. He’s more scared than we are.” She moved closer. “What’s your name?”

  There was no sound except heavy breathing from the exertion of their recent scuffle. Marlon tightened his arms, just a little pressure to give the aspiring delinquent something to think about.

  “The lady asked you a question.”

  “Roy. Robbins,” he added.

  Marlon eased his grip and dropped his hands, then moved to the side to get a good look. Haley was right. He was just a kid, about sixteen or seventeen. Looked like a young Brad Pitt, but skinny and not much taller than Haley.

  “What’s your deal, kid?”

  “None of your business.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. When you broke in here and scared Haley it became my business.” He glanced at the woman in question, who was looking back at him like an alien had popped out of his chest. “Do you know him?”

  She shook her head. “You need help, don’t you, Roy?” There was no answer, which spoke volumes. “The thing is, kiddo, you didn’t need to break in. But you picked the right place. ROOTS is all about helping kids in trouble.”

  “I’m not in trouble—”

  “Wrong again, kid.” Marlon watched him closely, waiting for any movement that would indicate he was planning to run for it. “Breaking and entering is a crime. Call the cops, Haley,” he said again.

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “How can you say that?” Marlon demanded.

  “He’s just a kid. Probably a runaway. Not dangerous. The authorities have enough to do. This isn’t something we need to generate a lot of paperwork for. When my brother was about the same age, he ran away and I was frantic.” She looked at the kid. “Let me call your parents to come get you.”

  “No way.” Testosterone-fueled anger wrapped around the words.

  “Your mom and dad are probably worried sick about you, Roy.”

  “They could give a crap,” he said bitterly.

  Haley frowned. “Did they hurt you?”

  “It’s not like that,” he said quickly.

  “Tell me what it’s like,” she urged.

  The kid ran his fingers through his short, spiky, dirty-blond hair. “I just had to get out of there.”

  “To clear your head?” Haley asked.

  “I guess.” He lifted a thin shoulder.

  Marlon was impressed that she seemed to get him, to understand a guy’s need to be alone. Maybe she would comprehend his own need for speed and the resulting community service.

  “Go ahead. Call the cops,” Roy challenged, his voice sullen and resigned.

  It grated on Marlon, but Haley just smiled.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said again. “I’m glad you weren’t out on the street. You just needed a place to spend the night.”

  “And that justifies breaking and entering?” Marlon demanded.

  “He didn’t take anything.”

  “That’s because you didn’t have beer in the fridge,” Marlon said wryly.

  “That wasn’t the best choice you could have made,” Haley gently chided the teen.

  Roy just shrugged. “Can I go now?”

  “Do you have a place to sleep?” she asked, knowing full well he didn’t or he wouldn’t be here.

  “What do you care?” the teen asked.

  “That’s not an answer.” Haley folded her arms over her chest. “I’d give you permission to sleep here except my permit doesn’t allow anyone under age to be here without adult supervision.”

  “Then I’ll split and find somewhere else to crash.”

  Haley sighed. “Look, it’s late. I’m tired. And I won’t sleep if I’m worried about you.”

  Hey, Marlon thought, that was his line. He didn’t like where this was heading.

  “You don’t have to,” the kid told her.

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t. You can come home with me.”

  “What?” Marlon stared at her and wondered if her bleeding heart was starving her brain of oxygen. “That’s crazy. What do you know about him?”

  “He’s in trouble. That’s all I need to know.” She held up her hand to stop him when Roy started to deny it. “He reminds me of Austin when he was that age. It’s why I started this program. How can I turn away the first kid who needs help? Where would my brother be if he’d been turned away when he needed it?”

  “But, Haley—” Marlon met her stubborn gaze and slid the kid a wary look while trying to think of something to change her mind. “He’s a total stranger. Bad things happen, even in Thunder Canyon.”

  “No one knows that better than me.”

  “Look, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t worry about it. The thing is, I’m a pretty good judge of character,” she insisted. “And, if you’re worried, you can follow me home.”

  No, he really couldn’t. Not legally. “I don’t have a car,” he hedged.

  “No wheels?” the kid said. “That’s harsh.”

  “I didn’t think I’d need any,” he defended. “And if I did, I could borrow a truck from my dad’s construction company.”

  “Well, I don’t want to drive you back to town just because you have bi
g-city induced trust issues,” she said.

  “I’ll sleep on your couch.”

  She glared at him for several moments, then nodded, apparently getting the message that he wasn’t backing down. “Roy can sleep on an air mattress in Austin’s room.”

  “Okay.”

  That was a lie, Marlon thought, because nothing was okay. A night on her couch was the last thing he wanted but he couldn’t let her drive out to her place all alone with a kid she didn’t know anything about, and a runaway to boot. Damn this protective feeling. It was darned inconvenient.

  It wasn’t bad enough that he’d sat in the dark with her for hours, wanting to kiss her. Now he’d be spending the night under her roof.

  On the other hand, it was the least he could do. She didn’t just talk the talk. She walked the walk and was willing to put herself out there to help a kid in need. She was a really good person in addition to that sweet, sexy thing she had going on. She wasn’t a taker, but a giver and for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on, he found that incredibly appealing.

  Marlon had a feeling he wouldn’t actually get any sleep on her couch—and it had nothing to do with whether or not it was comfortable. Spending the night under the fascinating do-gooder’s roof would give him ideas that would test a saint’s will power.

  And he was no saint.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Haley sat in a booth at The Hitching Post next to Marlon, with Roy across from them. This place, with its cowboy ambience and distressed hardwood floors, was home away from home to her. Manager Linda Powell had given her a job when she badly needed one and that bought a lot of loyalty.

  Since no wall separated the restaurant side from the bar side, she was glad that Roy’s back was to it. Over the original bar from the 1880s saloon was a picture of owner Lily Divine wearing nothing but gauzy fabric strategically placed to keep her from being completely indecent. There was a better than even chance the teen had seen nude female pictures before, but it wasn’t happening on Haley’s watch.

  She would have fed these two at her house, but cold cereal and toast were not the sort of comfort foods to inspire a troubled teen to loosen his tongue. Breakfast here where she worked was the plan because she’d heard that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.