by Elle James
“Marty Langley isn’t going to sell,” Gunny said. “That ranch has been in his family for over a hundred years. And it’s tied up in trusts and conservations districts. Even if the mining company purchased it, I doubt they’d get permission to set up mining operations.”
“Maybe the mining company has some clout with the people on the conservation boards,” the sheriff offered. “I don’t know. I left a message with Langley to see if Mr. Henderson made it out to present the company’s offer before he was attacked.”
“Let us know what you find out,” Gunny said. “On second thoughts, I’ll ask Marty himself. He’s supposed to be at the Fools Gold annual jamboree on Friday night. I’ll ask him then.”
“Are you still going?” the sheriff asked.
“I’m on the bank committee to raise money for the local parks and recreation department. I’m supposed to kick off the celebration.”
“What about you, Miss Tate?” the sheriff asked. “Will you be there?”
She nodded. “I’m playing the part of Madame LaBelle in the reenactment.”
“The woman who won the duel between the gunfighter and the madame of the whore house?”
“Yes, sir.” RJ gave the sheriff a narrow-eyed stare. “Don’t judge. Sally Jo Landon backed out when she found out she was pregnant. I couldn’t get anyone else to step in to take her part.” She raised her hands. “When you’re in charge of the reenactments, you do what you have to do.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Although how I got placed in charge of any of the activities is beyond me. I think JoJo had something to do with it.”
“Well, there’s nothing more we can do here,” the sheriff said. “I suggest you find someone else to play the part of Madame LaBelle.”
Oh, RJ had tried. “Trust me, the last thing I want to do is dress up as a madame and fight a fake duel in front of hundreds of people.”
“Let’s get back to the lodge,” Gunny said. “We have guests to feed and a bar to open.”
The group returned to the lodge, parked the ATVs in the shed and convened in front of the lodge.
“I’ll get dinner started,” RJ offered.
“And I’ll open the bar,” Gunny said.
“Do you ever take a day off?” the sheriff asked.
RJ smiled at her father. “Day off? What’s that?”
“At least, let us help,” Kujo said.
“I can assist RJ in the kitchen,” Jake offered.
Kujo lifted his chin toward Gunny. “And I can help Gunny in the bar.”
“I’ll get the ballistics on this casing,” the sheriff said, patting his pocket. “I’m sure there are hundreds of this kind of bullet in the area. But when we find the shooter, we’ll have something to match up with his weapon. In the meantime, Miss Tate, stay low.”
RJ nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
Jake hooked her arm. “We can start now by going inside.”
She dug in her heels, bringing them both to a halt. “Are you asking or telling?”
Gunny burst out laughing. “Son, you’ve got a tiger by the tail in my Jules. She never was good at following orders.”
RJ shot a glare at her father. “You were always throwing them at me. A girl has to stand up for herself.”
“Duly noted.” Jake dropped the elbow he’d hooked and swept out a hand. “Would you care to step inside and out of range of a potential sniper?”
She gave him a narrow-eyed glance. “Do I detect sarcasm?”
Jake held up his hands in surrender. “Not at all. Well, not much anyway. I would like it better if you’d get out of the open. You put everyone at risk, considering the shooter isn’t that good a shot.”
Her brow dipped. “You have a point. I don’t like it, but your point’s valid.” She sighed. “Inside, it is.” Turning the tables, she hooked Jake’s elbow and led him through the back entrance of the lodge and into the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and change into clean clothes before I start cooking. I feel like I have snake guts all over me.”
“You smell like it, too,” Jake said.
RJ swatted his arm. “You’re not supposed to tell a woman she stinks.”
“Hey,” he said. “I call it like I see it. Or smell it, in this case.” Jake wrinkled his nose, and then grinned.
His smile changed his face completely. From the sullen man who’d showed up at the Lost Valley Ranch yesterday with Kujo, to the man who’d saved her life twice in as many days, he seemed to be opening up. Maybe he’d regained some of his sense of worth since the incident that took his leg, his career and his team from him.
RJ’s heart warmed at the thought. It only took her nearly dying twice to shake Jake out of his morose funk. The man might have to start an entirely new career, but he had the right training to protect others. He’d gone after her attacker, resuscitated her and moved her out of harm’s way when the shooter had taken a shot at her. And he’d done it all on one good leg and a fake one.
Jake followed RJ and Striker up the stairs and paused outside the door to her room.
“I think we’re okay in the house. No shooters are inside. You don’t have to follow me into the shower,” RJ said. As soon as the words left her mouth, a shiver of awareness rippled across her skin. An image of Jake and her standing in the shower together naked entered her mind.
“I won’t follow you into the shower, unless you want me to.” He winked.
RJ’s heart fluttered. “That won’t be necessary. I’m perfectly capable of washing my own body.” Again, once the words left her mouth, images popped into her mind of Jake lathering a bar of soap and running his hands all over her.
Heat rose up RJ’s neck, suffusing her cheeks. “I’ll just get my things and be done in a few minutes.” She turned to enter her room but an arm crossed in front of her, blocking her escape. She turned to stare up into his deep, dark eyes. “Yes?”
“I’m here to protect you, not to molest you,” he said. “If you want me to join you in the shower, you’ll have to ask.”
His tone was deep, rich and smooth like melted chocolate, invading every pore.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his, nor could she swallow in her suddenly dry throat. RJ ran her tongue across her parched lips.
The movement made Jake shift his gaze from her eyes to her mouth. He was so close. All he had to do was lower his head just a couple of inches and…
RJ leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Then she ducked beneath his arm, threw open her door and dove into the sanctuary of her room. As soon as she and Striker were through the door, she slammed it closed and leaned her back against the cool panel.
Her body was on fire, and her lips tingled from having touched Jake’s. She pressed her hand to her mouth. “I didn’t just kiss the man, did I?” she said aloud.
“Yes,” his warm tones drifted through the wood panel, “you did.”
Fire burned in her cheeks. RJ turned and locked the door between them. “Why are you lurking around outside my door?”
“Just making sure you’re all right. You’re not exactly acting normal.”
“How do you know what’s normal for me?”
He chuckled, the sound making her nerve endings explode with electricity. “I can’t imagine you kissing someone you don’t even like.”
“Maybe I kiss all the boys,” she said, pressing a hand to her lips. She wanted to kiss him again. What was wrong with her?
“I’ll let you get to your shower. Leave the door unlocked, if you want me to join you.” His footsteps sounded on the wood floor outside her door, heading toward his room on the other side of hers.
RJ listened as he opened his door and closed it. She could hear his muffled footsteps through their connecting wall. The man was on the other side. He could be stripping out of his clothes as she stood there, panicking over a silly kiss.
Taking a deep breath, RJ strode to her dresser, collected fresh underwear, a clean pair of jeans and the only pink rib-knit sweater she had in her wardro
be. For a moment, she considered putting it back and grabbing one of her faded blue chambray shirts that were her normal garb for working outdoors. Why would she want him to think she was dressing up for him? That would send all the wrong signals to the man.
She kicked off her boots, pulled the elastic band out of her hair, gathered her clothing and opened the door to her bedroom. “Stay,” she said to Striker. The big dog lay down on the floor, content to sleep while she bathed. The hallway was blessedly empty.
RJ hurried across to the shared bathroom, entered, closed the door behind her and laid her things on the counter. She turned on the shower, letting the water heat while she stripped out of her clothes.
She’d just stepped beneath the spray when she thought about the lock on the door.
Leave the door unlocked, if you want me to join you.
She froze. Had she locked the door? RJ slid the shower curtain to the side a little and glanced toward the door. The lock button was horizontal. Which meant, it wasn’t locked!
She flung the shower curtain to the side, leaped out of the bathtub and ran for the lock, sliding to a stop before she slammed into the door.
As she reached for the doorhandle lock, the knob turned slowly.
RJ threw her shoulder into the door.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think the bathroom was occupied,” a female voice sounded outside the room.
Huh? RJ straightened, her pulse slowing. “That’s okay. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Thanks. No hurry. I just wanted to freshen up before dinner.”
“Five minutes is all I need,” RJ said through the door and twisted the lock.
As she climbed back in the shower, she let the warm water wash away a strange sense of disappointment.
What had she thought would happen? Did she really think Jake would come into the bathroom because she’d left the door unlocked?
She was “the job” to him. He’d probably just been teasing her with sarcasm and had no intention of joining her in the shower.
RJ shampooed her hair, applied conditioner, soaped the snake yuck off her body and rinsed thoroughly before turning off the water and stepping out onto a cold wet floor.
After she dried off and squeezed the moisture out of her hair, she used her towel to dry the water she’d trailed across the floor in her hurry to lock the door. Once again, that feeling of disappointment washed over her.
Why would he want to join her in the shower? It was broad daylight, and anyone could knock on the door. Still that nagging feeling of having missed out on something exciting pressed against her chest. “Seriously?” she said aloud. “Get a grip.”
“You always talk to yourself in the bathroom?” Jake’s voice sounded on the other side of the door.
RJ jumped, letting out a little squeak. “Do you always lurk outside bathrooms?”
“Only when it’s my turn for a quick shower.” He knocked on the door. “Hurry up, woman.”
She dressed quickly, finger-combed her hair, tossed her dirty clothes into the laundry hamper and opened the door. “Pushy much?” she said, her voice fading off when she came cheek to chest with the man who’d been on her mind throughout her shower.
He leaned close and tucked a damp strand of her hair behind her ear. “Only when the door is locked, and I can’t make efficient use of a shower with a beautiful woman.” He could have lowered his head just a little and claimed her lips.
RJ swayed toward him.
Jake stepped aside, his lip lifting in a quirky smile. “You have hungry guests. I’ll only be a minute, and then I’ll join you in the kitchen.”
RJ hurried across the hallway, entered her room and finally filled her empty lungs. What was it about Jake that stole her breath away?
Nothing, she told herself. He’s just a man. There had been a lot of men at the bar, at the lodge and in the town of Fool’s Gold. What made him any different?
Nothing.
She was lying to herself. The man struck some kind of latent sexual drive within her body. Perhaps, all she needed was to have sex with him, and she’d get over him pretty quickly.
Holy hell. How awkward would it be to work in the same building with him afterward? If he stuck with the job, he’d be there for at least a year. Maybe longer.
No. No. No.
She couldn’t have sex with the man. It would make things too weird for the remainder of their lease.
Hell, she was assuming he’d want to have sex with her.
RJ ran a brush through her hair and scrunched the curls rather than trying to pull them back into her usual ponytail. So, it was damp. With guests waiting to be fed, she didn’t have time to dry her hair.
She pulled on a pair of shoes, glanced at her reflection in the mirror and snorted. “Nothing to write home about.” Though the pink sweater softened her otherwise tomboy look, she was certain Jake wouldn’t opt to have sex with the rancher’s daughter. Again, Jake was a bodyguard. RJ was just the body to be guarded, not jumped.
After a quick glance at the clock on her nightstand, she muttered a curse and hurried for the door. It was well past time to start dinner. She’d have to hurry to get it ready.
Yanking open the door, she ran out into the hallway and smacked into a naked, damp chest with enough force the impact knocked the breath from her lungs.
She planted her hands on the hard muscles and fought to breathe. Or was the fact she was pressed against his hard body what made it hard for her to remember how to draw air into her lungs?
Arms rose to steady her, trapping her in a muscular vice. The scent of aftershave filled her nostrils, making her stomach clench and heat coil low in her belly.
She knew whose chest it was she’d run into without having to look up to register his face.
Jake wore a pair of faded jeans and nothing else. “Whoa there.” He gripped her hips and held her until she could right herself. “Are you okay?”
Her fingers curled into his skin, reveling in the feel of the solid wall of his chest. “Oh. Uh.” RJ shook her head. “Sorry. I guess I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“It’s okay.” Still, he didn’t release her.
And she didn’t back up or remove her hands from his chest. She was caught in a breathless vortex of desire she’d never experienced in her entire life. Having sex in the backseat of her boyfriend’s car in high school hadn’t inspired nearly the depth of longing she had for this Navy SEAL whom she barely knew.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jake asked.
Striker nudged her from behind, reminding her that he was right there with her, whatever she decided to do.
When RJ realized how long she’d been standing there, heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks. She pushed against his muscular chest and straightened. “I’m okay,” she said, not feeling at all okay. This man more than confused her. He made her feel things she’d never felt before in her life. She didn’t know how to process what was happening inside her own body.
“I just have to get my shirt and boots,” he was saying. “If you want to wait, I’ll walk down with you.”
“No. That’s not necessary. I’ll see you in the kitchen.” With those parting words, she turned and ran down the stairs across the great room and dining area and into the kitchen. Not until she made it to the commercial-grade gas stove did she stop to take a breath and touch a hand to her forehead. Was she running a fever? As hot as she was, she could be. And it had to be frying her mind for her to be so befuddled by one man.
Pulling the pots and pans from the cupboard, she fought to gain focus. People needed to eat. She had to come up with some food quickly.
Thankfully, there was hamburger meat thawed out in the refrigerator. She put a large pot of water on the stove and browned the hamburger meat. Soon, she had spaghetti sauce simmering and noodles cooking.
“What can I do?” Jake asked from behind her.
She jumped, schooled her expression and tipped her head toward the pantry. “There are a couple
loaves of French bread in the pantry. Could you cut them, spread butter, sprinkle them with garlic salt and then put them on a pan in the oven? I’ve already preheated it.”
“Gotcha.” He found the loaves, a pan and a serrated knife and went to work on the bread. Before long, he had the bread in the oven and the scent of garlic filling the air.
Without being asked, he found plates and silverware and set the table, coming back to check the oven to keep from burning the bread.
The man was sexy and able to think for himself in a kitchen? What manner of fairytale had she stumbled into?
“Are we making a salad to go with the spaghetti?” he asked.
“Yes. The vegetables are in the fridge.” RJ stirred the sauce and went to help him pull lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, banana pepper, onions and cheese from the draws in the large refrigerator.
While RJ cut the lettuce and tomatoes, Jake handled the onions, banana peppers and cheese.
By the time the noodles and bread were done, they had individual salads on the tables where the guests would sit.
“I’ll drain the noodles, if you want to find a serving dish for the spaghetti sauce,” Jake offered. He carried the pot of noodles to the sink and poured them into a strainer.
RJ placed a large ceramic bowl beside him. “For the noodles.” Once he poured the noodles into the bowl, she placed a pasta spoon inside it and made quick work of ladling portions of noodles into pasta bowls.
Jake followed with spoons full of sauce.
They carried the bowls to the tables.
The guests seated themselves and dug into the salads while Jake and RJ brought out baskets of garlic bread for the tables and glasses of water, tea and sodas, based on what the individuals requested.
When all of the guests had been served, RJ carried the large serving bowl of noodles and a big bowl of salad out to the table reserved for lodge staff. Jake brought the sauce and a basket of garlic bread.
Kujo and Gunny appeared and helped by bringing out glasses of water and iced tea.
“Who’s running the bar?” RJ asked.
“JoJo’s got everything under control,” Gunny said. “She insisted we come eat dinner—as long as we bring her a plate of food when we’re done.”
