COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance Page 10

  “Come see my c'llections.” Jamie pulled her to the window, pointing at the array of rocks, twigs and feathers that filled every space of the wide window sill.

  “It's a very nice collection,” she said.

  Jo joined them at the window. “Jamie's mom did the room. I don't think she ever admitted she’d actually produced a bit of a tomboy,” she whispered.

  Lacey stole another glance around the room. It was actually a mixture of frilly things and practical things. The large wooden toy box looked homemade and a sturdy braided rug covered most of the floor. Framed ballerinas and castles decorated the walls, as well as paintings of ponies and kittens and a mountain scene.

  “You like kids?” Jo asked.

  “Sure…I guess.” She wondered where Jo was going with that question.

  “Jamie's great. We spend a lot of time together, don't we sweetie? Why don't you go ask your dad how much longer before we eat, okay?”

  “Okay,” Jamie said, then skipped out of the room leaving them alone.

  “Look,” Jo started, “I'm not really here to push you two together.” She laughed. “Well, to be perfectly honest, I sort of am—I just thought you might…like each other. You sure made a positive impression on Jamaica.”

  Lacey folded her arms across her chest while she watched Jo fluff a bed pillow, maybe thinking what to say next.

  “And Jared's been…alone for a while now and, well, I just thought it might be interesting to see what happened.”

  “Look, Jo, to tell you the truth, I'm not looking for a relationship, so I figure we should just get through this as pleasantly as possible and be done with it.” Lacey listened to the tone in her own voice, hoping she didn't sound ungrateful or bitchy. Still, she felt getting things out in the open was best for everyone.

  Jo's eyes widened slightly, and she offered a tiny smile. “Hey, whatever, right? You can't blame a sister for trying.”

  “No harm done at all,” Lacey replied, touching Jo's arm. “It should be a great weekend. I'm looking forward to it, actually.”

  Jo's face broke into what seemed like a relieved grin.

  “And I never thanked you properly for your donation to the charity,” Lacey continued. “It was a generous bid.”

  “Happy to do it—anything to shake up my little brother's life. It was worth it just to see the look on his face.”

  Jamie bounded into the room. “Daddy says the grub's on.” Her tiny hand stifled a very pleased giggle at her father's crude phrase. “He says to bring the salad and the wine. Follow me.”

  Jo and Lacey obediently followed Jamie into the kitchen, stopping to quickly gather the rest of the things they needed for their supper.

  “We're eating in the brand new gazebo,” Jamie directed. “Daddy just finished making it.”

  ***

  In the gazebo a wooden table was set for four, complete with a flowered tablecloth and brightly colored plastic picnic-ware Jared had found in one of the kitchen cupboards. He placed sizzling T-bones on three plates, then a hamburger on a bun on Jamie’s plate.

  “It looks wonderful, Jared. Thanks for doing all this,” Lacey said as she placed the salad bowl next to the platter of sweet corn in the middle of the table.

  “Ditto,” said Jo.

  “Lacey, why don't you sit by Jamie,” Jared said, pointing to one of the chairs. “Jo, you're by me.”

  Joann wrinkled her nose at him.

  It was obvious that Joann had planned to have him set next to Lacey. No such luck, sister. He flashed her a victor's grin.

  Jared watched Lacey help Jamie get settled as they each sat down, then said, “Dig in, everyone, before the bugs hear we're having dinner.”

  Jamie giggled and took an enormous bite out of her burger, chewing with great exaggeration, her eyes opened wide.

  “Take it easy, Sugar Plum—I was just kidding.” Jared laughed, then glanced at Lacey who had already cut into her steak and was chewing a healthy bit, apparently comfortable eating outside. Quite the contrast, he thought, knowing that his ex-wife would have insisted he mosquito-net the entire gazebo before she would have ever consented to eating outdoors.

  Lacey helped herself to an ear of corn, closing her eyes as she bit into it. “I think this is the freshest corn I've had all season. Just picked?” she asked.

  “Pretty fresh,” Jo answered. “I picked it up yesterday at that stand off the 8 freeway on the outside edge of El Cajon.”

  Jared's gaze locked on Lacey's face. Without thinking, he reached for her, saying, “You have a kernel of corn on your chin”

  As he delicately nudged the kernel off her chin, Jared caught his breath. It felt both absurd and natural to reach for her. He heard her quiet gasp as he touched her. She blinked. But he didn’t think it wasn't really surprise that flickered in her eyes.

  “Sorry…”

  “Don’t be silly. I'd hate to be the only one sitting here with food on my chin.” Her face broke into a comfortable grin.

  Jared turned his attention back to his plate, his appetite suddenly gone, replaced by a slight feeling of dread. If he continued to feel such conflicting emotions, spending the weekend with Lacey would be more of a challenge than he thought he could handle.

  ***

  Outside, with no city lights to compete with them, the stars that blanketed the night sky were impressive.

  “There’s the Big Dipper, and the Little Dipper,” he said, as her gaze followed his pointed finger.

  “Is that Orion?” she asked.

  “Good job.”

  “Long ago summer camp,” she explained.

  Lacey knew she sounded almost awe-struck as he continued to point out some of the most common constellations to her. For him, the dazzling sky was always there and he probably forgot that people living under the glare of city lights didn’t see the sky like he did.

  Then they sat for a while, just gazing up at the sky, the silence more comfortable than she would have guessed.

  “Much as I hate to say it, I guess I’d better get going,” she said.

  She reached for his arm as they strolled to her car in the darkness, stumbling a little, unsure of her footing. Dinner had gone surprisingly well and the time had flown by. She’d been astounded when Jamie's bedtime had been announced, signaling the end of the evening.

  It had been a long time since she'd felt this comfortable. Had she ever?

  “Thanks for walking me down,” Lacey told him. She fumbled for her keys, opened the door and sat down in the car, quickly shutting the door to squelch the offending interior light as she put the key into the ignition and turned it part-way so she could lower the window.

  “Thanks for reading to Jamie.” Jared put one hand on the roof of the car and leaned so he could look at her in the window.

  “Well, luckily Cinderella is one of my favorites. And she's a great kid, Jared. Thanks for dinner, it was delicious. I'll see you on Saturday morning.”

  “Right. Goodnight,” he said softly.

  Lacey looked up at Jared. Was it really disappointment she saw in his eyes before he turned away? It had been such a nice evening. It felt like…family, she decided. She shuddered, trying to shake off that much too familiar feeling. It was exactly how it had felt with Dirk and his son. Normal. Fun. Comfortable.

  Not on your agenda, she reminded herself. Much too familiar. Warning bells rang in her head.

  She put the car in reverse, backing up so she would face forward to more easily find her way down the narrow driveway. Glancing in the mirror just before she turned onto the road that would take her down off his mountain, she saw Jared's silhouette leaning against one of the porch posts, his hands deep in his pockets.

  I wonder what you're thinking, Jamie's daddy.

  Chapter Nine

  “You're sure you can handle my regulars?” For the fifth time, Lacey checked the appointment book, scribbling last minute notes onto stickies indicating the size of perm rods she used on Leah, reminders to not trim Jennifer's bangs
too short, and which conditioner she used for each client.

  Kandy moaned. “Yes, I think I can handle your regulars. Will you just relax?”

  Lacey closed her eyes for a moment, trying to lessen the growing feeling of agitation. It had been years since she'd had a Saturday off, since before she'd finished cosmetology school, she realized, and she hardly knew how to act.

  “You really have everything you need in that little suitcase?” Kandy's voice was filled with exaggerated disbelief.

  The sound of giggling distracted Lacey, drawing her attention to the back of the salon where two of her younger stylists stood, hands over their mouths, their heads together. She caught Kandy sending them a stern, hushing glance. Something was up.

  “Why are you all so concerned with my bag, anyway?” She returned her gaze to the back of the salon.

  “I'm not interested at all. I just thought you might want to borrow a few things for your dream date.”

  “It's only two days—”

  “And one night,” Kandy finished. Her voice had a sheepish tone.

  Lacey glanced back at Kandy.

  “You ready, Lacey?”

  Jared stood at the front counter, his voice startling her, causing an unexpected skip in her heartbeat.

  “Hi, Jared. I'll get my bag and meet you outside, okay?”

  He nodded, then glanced around the salon, fully aware all eyes were on him—stylists and clients alike. “I'm parked by the theaters.”

  Lacey watched him leave, then walked briskly to the back of the salon for her suitcase. She sent a final parental glare to Kandy. “Stay out of trouble, ladies, and I'll see you on Monday.”

  Lacey walked through the mall, switching her suitcase from hand to hand a couple times before she arrived at the parking lot. It felt a lot heavier than she remembered and underscored her feeling of uneasiness. She had a hunch that the weekend was either going to be spectacular or completely unbearable. Her own emotions were an unnerving amalgamation of dread and curiosity—not a particularly good sign.

  Even though Jamie would be along to lessen the tension, she still faced two days—and one night, as Kandy had reminded her—with someone she reluctantly had to admit she found attractive. Not my type. The voice in her head was sounding somewhat weaker. Jared Dillon was not what was good for her, she declared, no matter what.

  ***

  In the crowded parking lot, she saw Jared leaning casually against his truck until the instant he saw her. In a few quick strides he devoured the distance between them, then quickly took the suitcase from her hand and then tucked it behind the bench seat of the truck. She noticed a small leather duffel and a guitar case already there.

  She also noticed the absence of his daughter.

  “Are we picking Jamie up on the way?” she asked.

  “She's got the flu. Jo’s got her.”

  “Why didn't you call me?” She tried her best to control any unsteadiness in her voice. The picture of a chaperoned, relaxing weekend melted before her eyes.

  Jared shrugged. “I figured we would end up going anyway.”

  Lacey climbed into the truck, feeling both resigned and confused. Why was she feeling upset? Because she would have backed out? Probably not. Jared was right, but she couldn’t help feeling a little unnerved, confirmed by the swarm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

  After a little small talk—him asking about her day and if the salon could get along without her, her asking if Jamie was really okay to leave—they slipped into an uneasy silence. She tried her best to distract herself looking at the scenery, forcing herself to breathe, reminding herself how nice it would be to have the weekend off, but also thinking about what she’d be doing at home with the time instead of dealing with this dreaded Dream Date.

  Finally he turned onto the two lane road where a sign pointed toward the bed and breakfast retreat.

  Lacey stared out the window. What was she thinking? To spend the weekend with a…a stranger. Well, not really a total stranger thanks to Jo’s dinner invitation.

  Jared cleared his throat, finally breaking the silence. “Do you know anything more about what to expect, publicity-wise?”

  His words jarred her introspection, but served to bring her back to the reality of the situation. “Reporters from both the San Diego paper and a few of the smaller local papers are supposed to be there by noon.”

  “Am I dressed okay?” he asked.

  Lacey shifted sideways in her seat to look at him, tucking her multi-colored, flowered gauze skirt around her knees. He was wearing dark blue dress jeans and a lightweight denim short-sleeved shirt, a red bandanna at his neck. A fine-woven straw cowboy hat was on the seat between them. They would look good together for the photos, she confessed to herself.

  “Well?” His low voice sounded a little embarrassed, or cautious, she wasn’t sure.

  “You look like a cowboy, if that's what you mean.” She smiled when he threw her an exasperated glance. “You look fine, Jared. You always do.”

  His reaction to her compliment was a disturbing silence that continued for a couple miles.

  “Jared?” This time it was Lacey's voice that ended the quiet.

  “What?”

  “Are we there yet?” she asked in a whiny, little-girl voice.

  A grin destroyed his concentration and Lacey saw the tense lines in his face relax.

  “Feels like Jamie's here,” he said.

  “I wish she was.”

  Jared turned his head to look at her.

  “How come?” he asked.

  Lacey turned away to gaze out the window. “I just thought it would be fun for you two—to get away together.”

  “Yeah, we don't get away much.”

  “Because of the animals?” She turned to look back at him.

  Jared nodded.

  Even so, Lacey envisioned his ranch as the perfect place for a child to grow up. She envied the little girl, having so much space to run and play. Jamie had told her of all her special places—the loft in the barn, her garden, a favorite climbing tree. And she had shared her love of the animals.

  “Are alpacas as sweet-tempered as they look?” she asked. She’d thought the creatures looked a little like Muppets.

  “They're gentle animals. Intelligent. And independent, though they don't like to live alone.”

  Like you? The thought materialized, unwanted but valid.

  Lacey returned her gaze to the scenery, suddenly wanting to keep the silence from returning. “Do you know what kind of trees these are?”

  “Mostly scrub oak and Manzanita.” Jared slowed his speed, pointing to the side of the road. “The reddish-brown trunks with the twisted branches are Manzanita.”

  “Manzanita,” she repeated.

  “It means little apple in Spanish. Native Americans ate the berries raw or cooked them and ground them up.”

  “And the pine trees?”

  “The evergreens here are mostly Coulter pine.” He pointed again. “The ones with the dark gray bark and the giant pine cones. And those yellow flowers are golden yarrow.”

  “Can we turn off the air conditioning and roll down the windows?”

  He obliged, adjusting a lever on the dash, then pushing a button to lower both windows.

  ““Mmmmmmm,” she said as she breathed in the fragrance. “It smells different than at your place.”

  “Different elevation, different plants.”

  “Did you plant the flowers by the driveway?”

  Jared paused for a few moments, as if debating his answer. “The year Jamie was born.” His voice had a definite tone of finality, as though his answer concluded their conversation.

  They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip.

  Lacey rested her cheek on her arm as she leaned her head out the window to breathe in the distinct mountain aroma. There was a sagey smell similar to what she remembered from Jared's place, but here it mingled with scents of pine and an earthy smell she couldn't identify.

>   There was something very soothing about mountain air, she decided. Minute by minute, she felt her anxiety subside. She began to admit that she had almost forgotten how to take time off. For so many months her focus had been to increase the salon's clientele, surpass retail sales figures and goals, and prove her worth to the corporate office.

  If nothing else, she concluded, this weekend would remind her that there was more to life than work. Her thought was interrupted with a start as she felt Jared abruptly apply the brakes. She straightened in her seat, smoothing her hair away from her face. She had worn it loose and now thought she probably should have done something with it.

  She flipped down the visor, hoping for a mirror and found one. Not too bad. Nothing that a little hairspray couldn't fix. She turned and caught Jared's gaze. He looked as nervous as she felt.

  The small parking lot in front of them was crowded with cars and Jared stopped the truck near the front of the two-story stone house that faced them. A carved wooden sign hung from a post with an arrow directing guests to come inside to register.

  “You ready for this?” he asked.

  “It shouldn't be too bad. A few pictures, a few questions. It looks like a nice place.”

  There were tall pine trees scattered around the structure, and she could see distinct paths winding through the trees that presumably led to the secluded cabins.

  A silver-haired, chubby, aproned woman fluttered down the stone steps of the house, waving excitedly at them.

  Jared let out a sigh. “And here comes Aunt Bea to meet us.”

  “Well, I guess we better just cooperate with her, then,” she added in mock seriousness.

  Jared raised an eyebrow. “I'll get the bags. You’re in charge of the cheerful madwoman.”

  “No problem.”

  Their easy banter instantly comforted her as Lacey took a deep breath and opened her door, mentally slipping into her professional personae before her sandaled feet touched the ground.

  ***

  After surviving the publicity ordeal of two photographers and four reporters, Jared and Lacey followed their hostess into the kitchen. Through Mrs. Miller's nonstop monologue they learned she and her husband had lived all their married lives in the secluded stone house, year by year building enough rental cabins to eventually make a decent living for themselves.