Fortune's Hero. Susan CrosbyЧитать онлайн книгу.
guffawed. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and passed it, along with a pencil stub, to Garrett, who signed the bill.
“He ain’t much of a bargain,” Lenny said to Victoria as he headed to his truck.
“‘Free’ is always a bargain,” she countered.
After the truck rumbled off, Garrett went to work finishing cleaning the stalls. She sat on a stool and watched, not saying a word, but not seeming bored, either. He wondered what Lenny would say to people, because he certainly wasn’t about to keep this bit of news to himself. No way.
Garrett was aware of her, of every time she crossed her legs or stretched or sneezed. Once when she was hunched over a little, her shirt gaped and he could see she was wearing a black bra. He liked red best, but black took a close second. It gave him something to fantasize about, anyway. Did she wear some tiny black thing as underwear?
“You only have the three horses?” she asked after a while, having seen them in the corral.
“At the moment. One’s been with me a long while. Apple Annie. These others ended up here over the past week. Haven’t located any owners as yet.”
“And how many dogs?”
“Six. At the moment.”
“Do those numbers change a lot?”
“They come and go. Except for Pete. He stays.”
“Abel seems pretty entrenched, as well.”
Garrett glanced over at the mutt, who’d made himself at home at Victoria’s feet. “He’s been hard to place. Not that he isn’t a good dog. He’s just … attached.”
“I haven’t seen any cats.”
“They keep to themselves. Last I counted, there were three. They do a good job of keeping the rodent population controlled.” He spread new straw in the last stall and wondered what would happen next. She didn’t seem inclined to leave.
“I brought lunch,” she said then, sliding her hands down her thighs nervously.
He didn’t know what to make of her—of the adoration in her eyes, her sassiness and straightforwardness. It was an odd and fascinating combination, and he needed to be careful. While he felt an almost blinding physical attraction to her, he would never be good enough for a Fortune, not with his past, not even for a night.
“I pictured you slapping a peanut-butter sandwich together for yourself,” she went on when he didn’t speak. “Thought maybe you’d like something a little heartier.”
He ambled over to where she sat. She straightened as he got closer. Her eyes took on a little wariness. “Victoria—”
“Vicki,” she interrupted breathlessly. “Most people call me Vicki.”
He let a few seconds pass. “Victoria, I don’t need mothering.”
“I’m not mothering you. I’m trying to be your friend. Friends do nice things for each other.”
“I’ve got all the friends I need.”
“Well, then, you’re a rare man. I figure I’ll meet lots more people in my life who will become friends. Some just for a little while and some forever. You saved my life, Garrett. That’s an unbreakable bond between us.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m beginning to regret doing that.” He stalked toward the door, not knowing where he was going, just that he needed to get outdoors.
She laughed and followed. “Roast beef sandwich, potato salad and apple pie,” she said, a coaxing lilt in her voice.
How’d she know his favorite meal?
“Estelle told me,” Victoria said smugly, apparently reading his expression. “Emily and I ate breakfast at her diner this morning. She even packed our lunch in a cooler I’m supposed to bring back when we’re done.”
He reached the stairs to his front porch, stopped and turned around. “So now Lenny and Estelle both know you’re out here visitin’ me. You might as well have taken out an ad in the weekly.”
“Are you hungry?”
Her cheerful, I-am-never-denied-anything tone made him want to shake his fists at the sky. Instead he shook his head. “I need a shower.”
“I’ll wait. Thank you,” she said seriously.
He bit his lip. She’d gotten her way, and she knew it. “We’ll eat here on the porch,” he said.
“Afraid if I come inside your house, I’ll slip behind the shower curtain with you?” Her eyes took on some shine, not so much in humor this time but provocation, as if daring him.
She had it backward. He was afraid he’d invite her in. Not only would lunch not get eaten, but maybe dinner and perhaps breakfast, too. He wouldn’t mind a good, long time in the sack with her.
“I won’t be long,” he said, then escaped into his house.
“I’ll be right here,” Victoria called after him then drew a calming breath. Keeping her hands off him had been torture.
She pulled the cooler from her trunk and set out lunch on a small, rough-hewn table between two unpadded rocking chairs. She couldn’t picture him in a rocker at the end of the day, except maybe if he had an ice-cold beer while watching the sunset for a few minutes. Maybe. She would’ve said he wasn’t a sentimental man, except that the way he treated animals said differently.
She wondered if he really deserved his reputation. He’d been gentlemanly with her—unfortunately. She smiled at that, then she loosened a button on her blouse, sat on a rocker with her knees up and waited patiently for him to join her.
Beyond the way her body felt around him, she liked him. He wasn’t like anyone else she knew, sure of himself but not in an arrogant way. The way he touched his animals said a lot, too. He knew how to be tender. She figured he was also very strong. Men who worked ranches and farms generally were. She didn’t know anyone else who worked physically for a living.
And he seemed comfortable in his own skin, a very good trait.
The screen door creaked open. Pete stood right away then tracked Garrett to the second rocker, sitting next to his master.
“Is Pete one of your rescued dogs?” she asked.
“We sort of rescued each other. The food looks good.” His easy change of subject was marked with a tone indicating it wasn’t going to be reopened. He grabbed a wrapped sandwich and dug in.
They didn’t talk, and that was amazingly okay with her. She was a curious person, one who asked lots of questions, wanted to know the how and why of things, but this time she just ate and listened to the land, the wind swirling dirt across the property, horses neighing in the corral, dogs yipping now and then. How different were the night sounds?
After they finished eating, she put the empty containers in the cooler, which he carried to her car.
“Have a safe trip home to Atlanta,” he said, blocking her from moving beyond the car.
She forced herself to smile. “I’m not leaving Red Rock yet.”
“Your choice, Victoria Scarlett, but don’t come out here again.” His eyes seemed filled with both desire and regret.
Something roared through her—loss, a sense of abandonment and even more, a feeling her future had just zagged onto another path. “How’d you know my middle name?”
“You’re splashed all over the internet, the adored daughter of Atlanta.”
“I want you,” she said impulsively, probably foolishly but honestly.
“Which is exactly why you need to go now and not come back.” Tension coated his words. He fastened the button she’d undone,