“Ah, and so people are still talking.” There was an unsteadiness to his voice.
“We belong to the same club.”
“I guess I can’t say I couldn’t see it.”
“That obvious? Just when you think you can hide those internal scars.” She let out a long sigh.
“Nothing like living in a town where people never forget the past.” He walked ahead which she believed was his signal that their conversation ended. She followed him to his truck and they unloaded the bags into the bed. “I’ll be back. I have to grab my things.”
“Okay.”
While he went inside the hardware store, she took her phone out of her purse and searched for service. No luck.
“Hard to get used to, huh?”
She found the owner of the deep male voice. “The service certainly is bad.”
The man smiled, showing off a row of even, white teeth. “The name’s Luke, but everyone calls me Mug.” When she didn’t respond, he laughed. “Do you have a name?”
“Oh, sorry.” She’d assumed everyone already knew her. “I’m Grace.”
“You with Ruger? This here’s his truck,” the cowboy said.
Before she could answer Mug looked beyond her and said, “Ruger? Think you have enough paint there?”
Grace turned and watched Ruger pushing a cart full of paint cans across the street.
“Probably not but things are getting real,” Ruger responded. He handed Grace the keys. “You can jump in and get into the AC if you’d like.”
“Nice meeting you, Mug.”
“Nice meeting you too.” He dipped his black hat.
She climbed inside the cab while the two men packed the cans into the bed of the truck She watched through the mirror. Ruger’s muscle flexed with each movement. He’d set his hat aside while he worked and the breeze swept up his thick mass of dark hair. The more she learned about him the more curious she became. Everyone had a story to tell, but she wondered what made him so rough around the edges?
Something Ruger said brought both of their gazes on the back of her head. She averted her gaze, hopefully before they caught her staring.
When he slid into the driver’s seat, he laid the scarf in her lap. “We don’t want to forget that.”
Clutching the soft fabric, she trembled at the thought that he had held it too. The butterflies in her stomach seemed like a childish physical reaction for someone her age—for a man who was a stranger—but she didn’t meet attractive cowboys every day. As self-assured as Ruger seemed, there were moments she witnessed a vulnerability about him, although he hid it well.
“I have something else for you too.” He handed her a pair of gloves. “It was those or mint green. You seem more like a purple to me. We wouldn’t want you to get any blisters on those hands. A person can’t work if they can’t move their fingers.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“No problem.”
“How did a man like Mug get his nickname?”
“He got it while he was on the rodeo circuit. Someone told him he held the reins like he would a mug of beer. Mug just sort of stuck, I guess. He’s a good guy…tough too.”
“I’m not sure I’ll get used to how friendly everyone is here,” she admitted.
He snorted. “I hope you can also get used to everyone sticking their noses in your business.”
Catching the underlying frustration, she allowed the silence to envelope them.
CHAPTER SIX
RUGER WASHED UP at the hose at the side of the house as the sun set. He’d accomplished a lot on his list for the day, but there were still tons that needed finished. Grace had promised him a good dinner and honestly, he could eat a horse, but he hoped the food was more edible than the chicken she’d made yesterday. She couldn’t cook, at least not chicken, but in her defense, she’d gave the house a good scrubbing yesterday and it smelled nice. She’d also borrowed some tools and took down cabinet doors. After they’d left the market yesterday his ma had sent him a message saying, “Be patient and kind to her.”
He’d been a bit perturbed. He wasn’t a mean man but being neck deep in renovations he didn’t have a heck of a lot of patience or kindness. Hell, truth was, maybe he’d lost some of his polish and shine regarding women.
Tossing and turning most of last night, when he finally did drift off he’d had dreams that he shouldn’t have. He wasn’t attracted to Grace. She wasn’t even his type. She was too ‘city’ for him.
He shut off the water, gave his wet hair a shake, then rounded the guest house just as he heard tires on rocks. He lifted his hand up to block the sun from his eyes. Just as soon as he saw the familiar black Jeep his gut twisted. Shit! What was she doing here?
A moment later the driver’s door opened and long, tanned legs swung out. The tall blonde slipped out and she gave him a teasing wave.
Oh hell. He didn’t need this right now.
“Hello, handsome. I thought I’d take my chances that you’d be home.” Flora wore a tight pink top that barely contained her large breasts. No doubt, she had nice tits that she liked to show off. A diamond stud glistened from her navel and the tiny frayed short shorts brushed flared hips. She sashayed up the distance between them and stopped to give him a long kiss on the lips
He swiped his knuckles over his mouth and saw the crimson lipstick smeared across his skin. “I didn’t expect to see you today.” Jetting a quick glance toward the main house, he turned back to the woman who he’d had a six month ‘friends with benefits’ relationship with. The last time she’d been at the house they’d ended up having a discussion that ended the evening with an agreement that they needed to move on. His intention never had been to stir up trouble or break any hearts, but they’d decided before their first romp that he wasn’t relationship material.
And now here she was with a smile that told him she didn’t come for a platonic visit.
“It’s been a while, Cowboy. You won’t answer my calls or return my messages. How’s a girl supposed to feel?” She tilted a wide hip that carried the fringe of the shorts higher, enough that he could see the new heart tattoo at the crease of her thigh.
Rubbing the growing headache out of his forehead, he dropped his hand and growled the words, “I’ve been busy, and I thought I made myself clear after that argument we had.”
She pushed her bottom lip out and walked her fingers up his chest. “That little disagreement? Pfft. That was just foreplay as to what I have in mind.” She saddled up closer, pressing her soft body against his. He felt a twitch below his belt, but it didn’t change his mind. She slipped off her sunglasses and wrapped her arms around his neck, tipping her chin to look at up at him. Her dark eyes twinkled with the mischief he knew she was capable of, but something was different, and he couldn’t pinpoint why his dick didn’t come fully alive. Was it broken? Oh shit. Did the brunette at the main house have something to do with this turn of events?
Flora kissed him again, slipping her tongue between his lips this time. The metal bar piercing didn’t feel as nice hitting his tooth as it did rubbing somewhere else on his body. What the hell had come over him? He’d never felt repulsed before. Even her scent, something like roses, rubbed him the wrong way.
Her hand cupped his crotch. When she didn’t get the reaction she was hoping for, she pulled back, her eyes nailing him with inquisitiveness. “Are you still upset? I’m all for keeping things the way they have been.” Her tongue came out to roll across her bottom lip. “As long as you end my dry spell.”
Clearing his throat, he took a step back, inhaling fresh air. This was the part he didn’t like. “Flora, I’m flattered that you came all the way out here, really I am, but I think it’s best we part ways. I made my mind up a long time ago.”
Several long seconds passed and then her smile disappeared like someone had smacked it off her lips. “Are you being serious?”
“Dead serious.”
Planting her palms on those ample hips, she angled her head to the
side. “Have you thought this through? I don’t think you have. I have a surprise.” She reached down, grasped the hem of her slinky shirt and lifted the cotton up to her chin. Her breasts were bare and sparkling from her left plump nipple was a piercing. “I had Ace do this. I hear this makes things more sensitive,” she said in a breathless voice.
Nothing happened south of his waist. Yeah, something was going on. Two months without a lay, outside of a hand job, he should want to drag her shorts down her thighs, bend her over the hood of that pretty Jeep and take her like a madman. When it was all said and done, she had nice tits. Beautiful body. And a tight—
Don’t even think about it, man.
He blew out a long breath.
As if a string was connected from his head to the main house, his gaze drifted there. Had he caught a glance of Grace on the porch?
Why did he care? He shouldn’t.
Flora reached up, grasped his chin and dragged his face back to her. “Now, how about we give this a spin?” She flicked the metal piercing and her nipples thickened. She’d always been super sensitive.
“I can’t.” He grabbed her shirt from her fingers and pulled it down to hide her breasts. “I’m not trying to be a dick, but this is for the best. You deserve better.” He guessed she did anyway. He didn’t know a lot about her outside of the fact that she was a waitress at a bar a county over and had been married twice.
Offended, her bottom lip quivered. She pressed her hands against her chest as if his words had caused her pain. He didn’t feel an ounce of disappointment that things wouldn’t go to the next level between them. “You’re making a big mistake, Ruger!” she said through clenched teeth.
“No reason to get pissed, sweetheart. After you’ve had some time to think things over, you’ll see we weren’t meant to keep this going.”
“Does this have anything to do with that new woman?”
“New woman?” He cocked a brow.
“The one who’s living out here,” she spat.
“No.”
“Don’t lie! I deserve the truth. Shay told me that woman was in her shop and she heard Mindy Hawke inviting you two to dinner. Doesn’t sound platonic to me.” Her expression twisted, making her look ugly.
Suddenly, he realized he’d made a huge mistake by ever seeing Flora. He should have known things would only get messy.
“I am telling you the truth. Grace is my employee only. I don’t want to continue things with you because of shit like this. Not because of anyone but just my preference.”
“Send me away now and I won’t come back. That’s a promise,” she slurred.
“Goodbye, Flora.”
With an exasperated sigh, she turned and wiggled her way back to the Jeep. Before she climbed in, she flipped him off, then left, kicking up rocks with the chunky tires.
Ruger stood there as he watched the mess drive away. A man like him didn’t need that crap in his life.
So then what did he need?
A man with a vigorous sex drive needed a soft body on occasion, except things were quickly changing for him. In ways he wasn’t prepared for. These days a tight body wasn’t enough to entice him.
Easy conversation with a smart woman sounded like a good time. Not that Flora wasn’t intelligent, but they’d never spent more than fifteen minutes talking.
Scrubbing his face with his palms, he pushed her out of his mind. What was done was done.
Strolling to the main house, he stepped in and was met with silence.
Inside the kitchen he found a plate with a ham sandwich and chips and a note that read…
“Enjoy dinner.”
Picking up the sandwich and cold can of Coke, he popped the lid and took a drink then a big bite of the sandwich and chewed, only to chomp down on something that didn’t belong. Lifting the top slice of bread he found the white paper left on the slice of cheese. Peeling off the intrusion, he returned the bread and had half the food gone in two bites on his way to look through the back door where he found Grace. She was bent over, ass high, hands deep in the weeds as she plucked the overgrowth from the garden, or what remained of a garden. He forgot he was holding the can and he crushed the aluminum, sending the drink spurting all over him. “Damn.” The tingling of an erection made him grit his teeth. What the hell? This wasn’t good, not good at all. He didn’t even like Grace, and certainly didn’t trust her. A woman that lied couldn’t be trusted and he knew that by the example of his ex who owned stock in what she referred to as “white lies.”
Growling a couple of curse words, he continued to stare, while keeping his tongue inside his mouth was a big accomplishment. Move away! His inner angel demanded him to stop watching, but the devil in him encouraged him to stay at the window and admire the curve of her lush bottom.
She wasn’t his type though.
He didn’t even like her.
Why didn’t he do what any dickhead would do and use Flora?
Because he wasn’t a dickhead.
Truth was, he didn’t want Flora. Not any longer.
And he didn’t want Grace either.
Hell, his lower region didn’t get the message from his brain.
Grace stood and swiped the back of her hand across her forehead and she stared into the distance as the sun caught her profile. She’d braided her hair so her face was exposed to his admiration. She wasn’t even that pretty. Her eyes were too far apart. Her nose too small and pert. Her neck too long. Her breasts too small…
Who the fuck was he kidding?
Swiveling on the heels of his boots, he dropped the crushed can and remaining sandwich in the trash can and went to wash up at the sink. He pounded his way up the back stairs to work. Handling some power tools right now would do him a world of good.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TO GRACE’S SURPRISE, she’d slept like a baby. Maybe she’d been so exhausted that sleep had overtaken her. Whatever the reason she’d pay top dollar to have the same sleep each night. This was the first time she’d slept eight hours straight without having a nightmare.
She’d been upset most of the evening yesterday after seeing Ruger’s little incident with the woman in the Jeep. If he wanted to have a friend over he should at least respect Grace’s feelings and take the play inside the guest house. Some things a woman can’t unsee and seeing him sucking the woman’s tonsils had only made Grace…what? Upset?
Frustrated, she’d made him a sandwich and went back out to work in the garden. If he wanted a fancier dinner, he should ask Miss Big-Breasts to feed him more than her tongue.
Slipping out of the comfort of the bed, she stepped over to the window to look out. The sun was shining brightly. The sky was as blue as an ocean. She could feel the warmth carried in on the breeze through the open window. It’d be another scorcher today.
Stretching her arms high above her head, she was enjoying the stretch until she happened to look down into the yard and found Ruger staring up. At her!
With a squeal, she covered her chest as a heat blasted through her. Although she was wearing a T-shirt, she felt the need to hide the sudden tweaking of her nipples.
He was smiling.
The nerve of him!
She frowned.
With a huff, she turned on her heel. Cursing under her breath, she found clothes and dragged them on.
A few minutes later, she marched downstairs, her hair piled high on her head and a determined tilt to her jaw.
In the kitchen she prepared a pot of coffee. She needed the entire pot to ease the tension in her stomach. Grabbing a mug from the drainer, she looked through the window into the yard, scouring it looking for Roscoe or the cat…or a certain cowboy.
“You’re late. Again,” he growled.
She jumped and dropped the cup in the sink. Swiveling, she saw the heat of her thoughts sitting at the table. “Ruger! How long have you been there?”
“Long enough,” he said in a tight voice.
“Blame the country air. I slept like a baby.”
> “Good for you,” he responded grumpily. “Time’s a-wasting.”
“Oh really? Then maybe one of us should refrain from play dates.” That wasn’t what she planned to say. Now he knew she saw him with his friend.
His jaw was tight enough to bend nails. He stood up from the table and pinned her under a piercing gaze. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing at all. It’s none of my business.” She turned her back to him. Why was she so angry? She picked up the broken pieces of the cup out of the sink and dumped them into the trash can. She hoped he just left her alone so she could get to work.
“Don’t be passive aggressive. If something is bothering you—”
“Passive aggressive?” She laughed, planting her hands on her hips. “Fine, you want to know what’s bothering me? I think if you want to invite friends over you should take you parties inside.” Once the words were out, she realized how ridiculous they sounded. “I’m sorry—"
“So you’ve been here for three days and you think that gives you the right to tell me what I should do on my own land? Paint the walls this color. Eat a sandwich. Take your company inside…” Swallowing the words that pushed up inside her throat, she planted a smile on her face. Kill him with kindness. Although she wanted to punch him. “I’m making breakfast. Want some?” Grabbing a skillet, she went to work cracking eggs into a bowl and whipping them a little harder than necessary.
After she dumped the eggs into a buttered skillet, she turned and was glad that he was gone.
What the hell was she doing?
She’d overstepped a few boundaries, so she deserved his temper.
A few minutes later she heard a door slam and the rumbling of a diesel engine. She looked outside in time to see Ruger’s truck backing out of the driveway. He hadn’t told her he was leaving. Was he supposed to? No.
With slumped shoulders, she went back into the kitchen and sniffed the awful acrid smell of burning eggs. “Oh no!” They were charred in the pan.
Emptying the destroyed contents into the trash, she settled on a piece of toast then went to work in one of the bedrooms.
Cowboy Wilde (Cooper's Hawke Landing Book 2) Page 8
