Riding Home. Vicki Lewis Thompson
He wondered if Drake’s new romance bothered her. She might have been hooked on the guy and now he’d moved on. “So the party’s tomorrow night. Are you leaving Sunday?”
“I didn’t want to run off like my danged tail was on fire, so the plan is to fly out Monday.”
“I see.” Not much time to get to know each other. That was sort of disappointing given that some mutual attraction seemed to be developing.
“And I need to get back to my job.”
“Doing what?”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“Is that so?” He should get an Academy Award for his casual response. Inside he was laughing his head off. He’d worked so hard to leave that profession behind, and now he was making goo-goo eyes at a member of the clan. The last person in the world he’d ever date would be another lawyer. “What’s your specialty?”
“Do you need legal advice?”
“No.”
“I ask because usually when I mention that I’m a lawyer people’s eyes glaze over. But if they have a legal issue, then they want to know what kind of lawyer I am, either because they might hire me or, in some cases, they’re after free advice.”
“I know.” Whoops. “I mean, I’ll bet. But I don’t need a lawyer.” Not in any sense. “I was just curious. Anyway, you have to survive until Monday.”
“I do, but I’m sure more appropriate clothes will help me with that. That’s so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t think of it, although I wouldn’t know where to go. The party’s being held outside, so jeans would be good.”
“And boots.” Zach glanced down at her yellow shoes.
“Guess so. These aren’t going to work for a barbeque.” She lifted one foot to peer at the sole. There wasn’t much surface area to the bottom of her stiletto, but the little that existed was dotted with smashed chocolate chips, dirt and bits of straw. “Good Lord.” She groaned. “I probably tracked chocolate chips all over Sarah’s hardwood floor on my way out.”
“Probably.”
“Worse yet, the housekeeper is one of Regan’s sisters. Cassidy idolizes that brother of hers. She’s already wantin’ to snatch me bald-headed, and now she’ll have to clean up my trail of chocolate. I’ll have to go back inside and apologize to her. To all of them.” She glanced up at Zach. “You must think I’m a total screwup, but I swear I’m not. At least not normally.”
“I believe you.”
“Do you?” She met his gaze. “I don’t know why. I’m the woman who cheated on my fiancé with his best friend. Then I showed up here in designer clothes more suitable to a country club than a ranch, and obviously I made a mess of things in the kitchen.” Her voice caught. “If that’s not a description of a screwup, I don’t know what is.”
She seemed to be on the verge of tears and he considered pulling her into his arms and letting her have a good cry on his shoulder. She probably needed to release some of that tension that had her wound way too tight. But they’d just met, and he also sensed a Southern reserve in her. If he coaxed her into crying it out, she might be horribly embarrassed afterward.
Besides, if she were going back inside to apologize for the chocolate on the floor, she wouldn’t want to have red, puffy eyes. He’d only known her a short time, but he could already tell she wouldn’t want her vulnerability made public. Unfortunately, her natural reserve might be working against her, too.
So he settled on words of encouragement to shore her up instead of physical contact that would make her lose her cool. “You can’t be a total screwup. You flew out here and made peace with your ex. That took diplomacy and guts. Even though you know nothing about cooking, you volunteered to help prepare the food for tomorrow’s party while working with women who aren’t all in your corner. That takes nerves of steel. I’m just a bystander to this drama, but from my perspective, you’re pretty damned incredible.”
She stared at him for a long time, her eyes growing suspiciously bright. Then she sniffed and used her thumbs to flick away the moisture gathering on her lower lashes. “Thank you. You can’t know how much that means to me.”
“Oh, I have some idea. I’m a recovering perfectionist.”
Her smile trembled. “I’m just a plain old perfectionist. Maybe on the drive to Jackson you can tell me how to get rid of that tendency because it’s a royal pain in the ass.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you never get rid of it.”
“That is bad news.”
“But you might be able to cut it down to size.”
“Then I want to know how to do that.” She held out her hand. “Until tonight. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too.” He clasped her hand and his adrenaline spiked. Her grip was firm but her skin was petal-soft. He forced himself to let go when all he wanted to do was draw her closer...and closer yet.
Awareness flashed in her green eyes. “See you later, Zach Powell.” Turning abruptly, she walked out of the barn without looking back.
He was grateful for that, because he couldn’t seem to move. He stood there like a fool and watched until she was out of sight. His visceral reaction to her had him by the throat, or more accurately, by the gonads.
But she didn’t need a lover right now. She needed a friend. Even if she had been in the market for a lover, she worked in the profession he’d vowed to avoid. So he’d help her shop, share a nice dinner and that would be that.
ALTHOUGH IT WASN’T quite five-thirty, Jeannette came downstairs to wait for Zach in the Bunk and Grub’s parlor. Usually someone was in there reading or knitting or texting, but the room was empty. Then she remembered that the other guests were probably gathering on the back porch for the B and B’s scheduled happy hour.
She’d attended that event the previous night and had enjoyed herself until she’d received a text from work. Then she’d gone back to her room so she could straighten out an issue at the office, and by the time she’d finished, happy hour had ended. The porch had been deserted.
For a little while, though, she’d been a welcome part of a social occasion. The guests were all from someplace else so no one knew that she was persona non grata in Shoshone. She could go back there now, reconnect with those nice people and have some wine while she waited for Zach. The young woman at the reception desk near the front door could come and get her when he arrived.
But even though that was a pleasant idea, she’d rather stay here and watch for him. She didn’t care if she looked eager for the trip to Jackson and the chance to be with him again. She was eager. He was her new friend.
In addition to that, he was a beautiful man. At first glance she’d noticed his broad shoulders and lean hips. She’d registered his confident stance. But when he’d moved closer she’d been captivated by the expression in his cloud-gray eyes. His Stetson had shaded his face slightly, but shade couldn’t mute the intelligence and compassion in those eyes.
Sure, male appreciation had flickered in his gaze. That was fine. She wouldn’t complain about getting that look, which hadn’t been sleazy in the least. But it was his sincere compliment that had blown her away. His empathy for her situation was greater than she’d felt from anyone since she’d arrived. Much as she understood everyone’s reaction to her, she’d desperately needed someone like Zach to show up.
Bolstered by his understanding and his praise of her courage, she’d managed to walk back into the ranch house with her head high. She’d apologized for her clumsiness and inexperience