Behind Closed Doors. Debbi Rawlins
searched his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine,” he mumbled, blushing furiously.
“You sure?” she asked, inspecting his cheek. His skin was warm, probably because she was embarrassing him. But would he admit it if she’d grazed him?
“Um, Beth.” Craig took her shoulders, turned her toward the back of the barn and gave her a gentle push. “Go sit. We’ll do this faster without your help,” he said, and started laughing.
“My balance was off,” she protested, squirming away from him. “I can still—”
“You trying to maim my men, Bethany?”
Nathan’s voice made her jump. And not just because it was deep and rich and warmed her from the inside out like a decadent sip of Rémy Martin. Very few people called her Bethany, and none of them said it like that.
She turned to find him standing in front of a maroon-colored truck with the Lucky 7 logo on the door. The pickup hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. It was a really big extended-cab model you couldn’t miss. The kind the towing company had used to repossess trailers in the park where she’d lived as a child.
“I’d appreciate you doing like Craig asked and stepping aside,” he said to her, his mouth curved in a faint smile as he pulled on tan leather gloves. Then he dropped the tailgate. “Boys...lets load the Dodge first.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Craig said, and exchanged a puzzled look with Troy.
“Hold on.” Beth had no intention of moving. “I don’t want this to be a big production. Or infringe on anyone’s time. I really am capable of doing this myself.”
“I’m sure you are,” Nathan said, and then ignored her and grabbed a whole stack of lumber. “You want to be useful? Grab me a bottle of water out of the fridge.”
Well, didn’t he sound like a man used to giving orders? She glanced at the other two who’d gotten very quiet, then reminded herself she wasn’t in charge here. He could change his mind, renege on giving her the lumber and she’d be crying a river come tomorrow. On the upside, standing by and watching him move wasn’t a bad deal. His rolled-up sleeves bared his corded forearms, and the light blue shirt was fitted enough that she could see the play of muscle across his back every time he hefted a load.
He stopped to adjust his Stetson and looked at her. “Do you know where the fridge is?”
Pressing her lips together to keep from making an unwise remark, she turned to Craig and Troy. “While I’m at it, would you like something?”
“No, thanks,” Troy mumbled.
“Yeah.” Craig flashed her a grin. “See if there’s a beer.”
She didn’t see Nathan’s expression, but she could imagine it wasn’t pleasant seeing how Craig ducked his head and laughed.
“Just joking,” he said, stopping to sweep his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll follow you to town and get you unloaded. By then it’ll be quitting time and I’ll buy you a beer.”
“I’ll take care of Bethany,” Nathan said, and, God, she had to stop letting his voice make her all gooey inside. “I have to go to the Food Mart anyway.”
She nearly dropped the bottle she’d grabbed from the ancient refrigerator. Catching the shocked looks on Craig’s and Troy’s faces, she knew her surprise was justified. Even if Rachel hadn’t told her Nathan stayed away from town, Beth couldn’t see him going to the Food Mart. He’d send someone else.
After he dropped that little bomb, the rest of the job was finished mostly in silence. She heard Craig quietly bet Troy twenty bucks that their boss didn’t know where the Food Mart was located. Naturally Beth pretended she hadn’t heard. The two guys were shooting her curious looks, probably thinking the same thing she was...that she might have something to do with Nathan Landers’s sudden itch to go to town.
And, Lord, she hoped that was true. She got a little tingly just thinking about what it could mean. Long cool nights in Blackfoot Falls could use a pinch or two of something spicy. And he looked like a man who’d know just which ingredients to use.
“What now? You want the paint, too?”
She blinked at the gallon cans she’d been absently staring at—ten of them had been stored beside the lumber and now stood alone against the wall. She turned to Nathan and grinned. “You offering?”
His mouth curved in what could pass for a slight smile. “Thanks, boys,” he said to Craig and Troy. “Go ahead and knock off early.”
“You sure, boss?” Craig’s face lit up. “Woody’s gonna pitch a fit.”
Nathan jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
The guys didn’t have to be told twice. Quiet Troy let out a whoop and they both tore off toward the bunkhouse.
Beth shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling off balance now that they were alone. She needed to get in her truck and head back to town. Give herself time to think. Her gaze drifted to the paint. “I’ve screwed up your project,” she said, pulling off the gloves she’d ended up not needing. “Now you have paint but no lumber.”
“One has nothing to do with the other.” His gaze fell on her hands, and she wanted to childishly hide them behind her back.
Her nails were horrible, dirty and jagged. She hadn’t had a manicure in ages. Not since she’d moved to Blackfoot Falls. “What should I call you?” she asked, and saw that she’d confused him. “And don’t say boss. That won’t fly.”
There it was again...the almost smile. “Nathan.” He took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark hair. “Craig calls you Beth. Is that what you prefer?”
She had to think about it. These days only her sister called her Bethany, probably out of habit. But Beth did love the way he said it. “Either one.” She shrugged. “Beth is shorter.”
Neither of them moved. They just looked at each other for a long silent moment that should’ve been uncomfortable but somehow felt natural. Standing this close, she could see that he was bigger than she’d first thought. Broader and taller...maybe more muscular, but she wouldn’t know for sure until she saw him naked. If she ever saw him naked. Oh, she really hoped so.
She cleared her throat and took a step back. “Well, I guess we should head to town. I’ve taken up enough of your afternoon.”
He blinked, then ran his gaze down the front of her shirt to her jeans. “Come with me,” he said, and walked farther into the dim, cavernous barn without a backward glance, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t follow.
A little nervous that the shadows seemed to gobble him up, Beth hesitated and glanced over her shoulder. Craig and Troy were long gone. “Were you waiting to get rid of the witnesses?”
The words were barely out of her mouth when light flooded the barn and she whipped her gaze back toward the spot where she’d last seen him. He stood partly under the steps to the hayloft, between a cabinet and a workbench, watching her with a look of amusement. “You must be from the city.”
“I’m from Montana,” she said, a tad defensive and hoping he didn’t think she’d really been nervous. To prove she wasn’t, she strolled toward him, casually glancing at the bales of hay stacked as high as her shoulders, at the assortment of tools hanging on the rough-hewn walls, and inhaling the scent of oiled leather becoming more pungent this far inside. And tried to ignore the acceleration of her pulse the closer she got to him.
“Where?”
“Outside of Billings.”
He barely reacted yet still managed to communicate “case closed.” Oh, but he was so wrong. He gave Billings too much credit. She’d seen more than half the world. As far as cities went, Billings was peanuts.
She