Wanted!. Vicki Thompson Lewis
the house always this big?” she asked.
“Nope. The old house was trashed, so Grandpa Archie built a two-story box with a sleeping loft upstairs. Then he added the right wing after my dad was born, and my dad added the left one after Jack was born. My mom was the one who insisted on the porches and a new kitchen and dining room.”
“So the house has grown with the family. That’s nice. I’ve never lived in a house built by the original owners.”
Nick turned off the engine. “I can’t think of doing it any other way. I’ll probably build my own house when the time comes.”
From the way he said it, she knew that time would be the day he decided to marry. She pictured the lucky woman and felt a pang of envy. Which was dumb, considering how little she knew about the guy. For sure he had a fabulous body and knew how to use it. But he could also have a thousand irritating habits that would drive a girl insane if she had to put up with him 24/7.
“So, before we go in, I have a suggestion.” He glanced over at her. “How about me taking you into Shoshone for dinner tonight? They’ll feed you here, of course, but I could show you the nightlife, such as it is.”
She was sorely tempted. He looked mighty fine wearing his straw cowboy hat, faded jeans and a Western shirt with the sleeves rolled back. She knew the wonders hidden beneath that ensemble, and thinking about him naked made her mouth water.
But she’d had her impulsive moment, and she could tell this was a guy who would foster more of those. She still needed to exercise restraint even if Herman wasn’t around, to keep from doing something foolish or jeopardizing the business she’d worked so hard to build.
“There’s a funky bar called the Spirits and Spurs, and during the summer they have live music. The dance floor’s small but adequate.”
She could picture it—a cute little bar, some frothy glasses of beer and a tiny dance floor where they’d engage in that age-old foreplay ritual called dancing. She was a lousy dancer, but with a beer or two, she could fake it.
Regret tightened her chest as she gave him the only answer that made sense under the circumstances. “Nick, it wouldn’t be fair for me to accept.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not going to have sex with you again.”
His eyes became very green. “You’re blushing, Dominique. I think you want to have sex with me again.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It is the point. You want to and I want to. We’re consenting adults who happen to be occupying the same place on the planet for the next five nights. I don’t see the problem.”
She did. Herman was a jerk, but he’d also stabilized her life. Maybe this man had been sent as a test to see if she’d revert to the person she had been, the one who dropped everything, including her financial obligations, when the next new experience appeared on the horizon.
She had to stay strong and focused. The trip had been excellent so far and she didn’t need to go overboard in a way that would mess it up. Therefore she’d sleep alone tonight.
Facing Nick, she met his tempting gaze and said what had to be said. “I’m sorry. Thank you for a wonderful morning, but that has to be the end of it.”
He threw up both hands in defeat. “I don’t get it, but I’ve never begged a woman in my life and I’m not about to start now. Hold on a minute and I’ll help you out.”
“Not necessary.” Dominique opened the door, which squeaked on its hinges. “But thanks.”
He gave her an impatient glance. “I hope you’re willing to walk into the dining room with me. Or would that compromise your principles?”
“Not at all.” She climbed down from the truck and settled her backpack strap more firmly on her shoulder.
By the time she walked around to the other side, Nick was greeting two medium-size, mixed-breed dogs that had bounded over from the vicinity of the barn off to the right of the house. One was all black with longish curly hair and floppy ears. The short-haired one was tan-and-white, with a snub nose and pointed ears.
The dogs regarded her with curiosity, but Nick had a hand on each of their collars so they stayed by his side, glancing up at him with doggy smiles and wagging tails. Obviously they adored him.
“And who might these characters be?” Dominique asked.
“The tan one is Butch and the black one Sundance. Do you like dogs?”
“Yes, very much.” Herman had talked her out of adopting one, saying she couldn’t afford the drain on both her time and financial resources.
“Go on over and say hello, boys.” Nick released his hold and the dogs approached her with tails wagging. She crouched down and petted both at once. They sniffed her face and her hair, and Sundance gave her a little lick on the nose.
She had the ridiculous urge to gather the dogs in a hug. When she got home, she’d head for the nearest animal shelter and adopt herself one. “They’re great,” she said. “Where did they come from?”
“I found them wandering on the road about three years ago. Our golden retriever had died a couple of months before that, and a ranch needs a dog. Or two dogs. Besides, if I hadn’t picked them up, they wouldn’t have survived. My dad insisted on naming them after his favorite movie.”
She heard the slight hitch in Nick’s voice. Obviously he missed his dad a lot. “They’re great names.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s go get some lunch.”
She’d just had sweaty sex in the woods and didn’t feel quite ready to face public scrutiny. She gave the dogs a last scratch behind the ears and stood. “I need to stop by my room and freshen up before we eat.”
His gaze traveled over her. “You look great to me.”
She could say the same about him, but both of them bore the evidence of rolling naked on a canvas tarp in the woods. “Thanks, but if you want to go in together, I’ll meet you back downstairs in five minutes.” She ran up the porch steps and into the ranch house.
True to her word, she came out of her second-floor room five minutes later and found him waiting at the bottom of the curved staircase. His damp hair was combed and he’d put on a clean shirt.
As she reached the bottom step, a woman with flyaway gray hair barreled toward them from the hallway to their left.
“There you are!” The woman wore a red cowboy shirt with white piping, and jeans with enough stretch to accommodate her rounded figure. “Jack said you would be here for lunch, but I let everybody else go ahead because the food was getting cold.”
“Forgive us, Mary Lou.” Nick caught her around the waist. “But I’d rather have your cold food than anyone else’s hot meal.” He kissed her soundly on the cheek.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Nicholas. Are you going to introduce me to our guest?”
“You bet.” Nick swept a hand in Dominique’s direction. “May I present Dominique Jeffries of Indianapolis. She’s a famous photographer.”
Dominique rushed to correct that misinformation. “No, I’m—”
“Dominique, this is Mary Lou Simms, the best cook in Wyoming.”
Mary Lou smiled up at him. “Apparently I’m not that good or you wouldn’t be late for lunch.”
“It’s my fault,” Dominique said. “I got carried away by the photographic opportunities.”
Nick pursed his lips and gazed up at the wagon wheel chandelier that graced the main room of the house.
“I love good pictures,” Mary Lou said. “What have you taken so far?”