New Year, New Man. Natalie Anderson
chewed on her full lower lip.
“I’m the boss,” he repeated quietly, willing it to be true.
“Don’t be a hater,” Claire mumbled.
“A what?” He rubbed his temples. “Never mind.”
“You don’t have a chef, do you?” Sara asked, her voice too knowing for his taste.
“I’m interviewing cooks.”
“And who’s planning all the so-called adventures?”
“I am.”
“And leading the fun?”
Was it his imagination or did her gaze stray to his knee? “That’s me, too. Got a problem?”
She took a step closer to him. Across the bridge of her nose, under who knew how many pounds of makeup, he could see the faint outline of freckles. Distracting freckles. Freckles he wanted to trace, wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked.
“Face it, cowboy,” she said, bringing him back to the moment, “you need us.”
“I don’t need anyone.”
He heard Claire snort.
“Jerk,” Sara said under her breath.
A dull pounding started behind his left eye, matching the throbbing of his leg. “Fine. But this isn’t the Ritz. If you’re here, you work.”
She tossed her streaked hair. “I’ve been working since I was eight years old.”
He suppressed a growl. “Not the kind of work that involves a catered lunch.”
“You think you know me so well.”
“I know your type.”
“We’ll see about that.” She gave his shoulder a hard flick. “I’ll give it until Labor Day, Lone Ranger. If you can’t get the bank loan approved by then, I’m taking the next best offer.”
He studied her luminous blue eyes, their depths cold as an alpine stream. “Deal.”
They glared at each other, and though he kept his eyes on her face, he noticed that her chest rose and fell unevenly and a soft pink flush rose to her cheeks. His own breath quickened, and without knowing why, he leaned in and enjoyed watching her big eyes widen.
The hippie chick clapped a few times, breaking the weighted silence. “If that’s settled, we should think about planning. I’ll start with dinner.”
He forced his gaze from Sara’s. “The local diner has decent takeout.”
April laughed. “I’ll cook tonight. Think of it as an official interview.”
He nodded. “There are six smaller cabins on the property. Four of them are two bedrooms. You can have your pick.”
“Can’t they stay in the house with us?”
“No,” Josh and Sara said in unison.
“Whatever,” Claire mumbled.
Sara turned to his daughter. “Would you show me the other cabins?” She glanced warily at the thick pine forest that surrounded his land. “I want the one least likely to be invaded by critters.”
Josh expected Claire to offer up one of the flip comebacks she gave him every time he asked for her help. To his surprise, she gave Sara a genuine smile. “Sure. Will you tell me about all the stars you know in Hollywood?”
A momentary cloud passed through Sara’s eyes before she smiled brightly. “Oh, sweetie, I’ve got some stories for you.”
Claire giggled. Actually giggled as she led Sara toward the row of cabins that sat in front of the small stream at the back of the property.
“Unbelievable,” he said under his breath.
He heard April laugh again and whirled on her. “What?” he demanded. “What is so funny?”
She took a step back, palms up. “Nothing at all. Do you want to discuss menus while I check out the kitchen?”
Josh recognized a peace offering and was smart enough to take it. “Let’s go,” he said, and headed for the house.
Sara glanced up from the computer in Crimson’s small-town library. It had been three days since she and April had arrived in Colorado. Word spread fast that former starlet Serena Wellens was in town for the summer. A steady stream of locals had stopped by the ranch for neighborly visits. Of course the disappointment in meeting a once-upon-a-time celebrity in real life had been obvious from the comments she’d received.
“You looked taller on TV.”
“You were so pretty when you were younger.”
“Do you still talk to Amanda? Can you get her autograph?”
Her favorite had been from the town’s mayor, who’d blurted, “I read you overdosed a year ago. I think I sent your gran flowers as a condolence.”
It was a good thing the ego had been pummeled out of her years ago. Otherwise, the blatant disapproval might have done her in.
She watched a couple of teenage boys stare at her from behind the bookshelves at the far end of the room. She pulled off her headphones and winked in their direction. Her smile broadened as they ran away, books clattering to the floor in their wake.
“You enjoyed that a little too much.”
She started at Josh’s deep voice and swiveled her head to see him approach. Quickly, she clicked the mouse to minimize the screen and turned to block his view completely. “The picture-book section is on the other side,” she said with a huff.
To her dismay, he gave her a knowing grin. “Whatcha doin’, Hollywood?” His lazy drawl made her insides twist in a way she didn’t like.
She shrugged in response. “Checking out the gossip sites. A little Facebook. April’s meeting with the owner at the market to arrange food deliveries to the ranch so I’m killing time.”
He craned his neck to peer over her shoulder. “I think you looked me up on Google.”
“You wish,” she sputtered as a voice sounded through the headphones that she’d dropped to the desk.
“Josh Travers does it again. It’s a new record and another amazing showing from bull riding’s reigning king.” Applause and cheers echoed in the background.
Heat rose to her cheeks as Josh arched a brow.
“Fine. I was curious. So what. Don’t tell me you haven’t looked me up, too.”
“I wasn’t sure which site I liked better—serenawellensforever.com or sarawellsstinks.com.”
“Just the Two of Us fans didn’t love it when I changed my name. They thought they knew me when I was Serena. Like my name mattered.”
“It mattered to you.”
“Reigning king, huh?” she asked.
“That was a while back,” he said with a smile, as if he knew she was changing the subject.
She studied him for a few moments. “I saw pictures of your accident.”
His back stiffened. “Pictures exaggerate.”
“The bull landed on top of you.”
“They got him off quick.”
“Does your knee still bother you?”
“Not really.”
“Liar,” she whispered. “Do you miss it?”