The Rancher and the Event Planner

Chapter Seven



JC crawled into bed, pulled up the covers and sighed. She thought of Rafe sprawled on the floor playing dolls with his daughter. He had shown her a deep tender side that made her care for him even more.

Steady on, okay? Cade’s warning came back to her. She knew she needed to be careful but a part of her wanted to fling caution to the night sky. She was more determined than ever to prove to him that they belonged together because she was so tired of being alone.

She hated going to bed alone, eating alone and watching movies alone. Despite her accident and sentence, the last several days had been heaven being here on the Rocking M. The house held such peace and contentment not to mention the love that pervaded the atmosphere. She rolled onto her side and looked at the shaft of moonlight spilling in through the bedroom window and closed her eyes. She imagined Rafe lying in bed, her body spooning against his, his breath on her neck, his arms holding her safe and secure.

She longed for it more than she’d ever longed for anything in her life because only then she knew the demons would never crowd in again. Despite her efforts to stop them, her mind filled with the memory of her father leering at her in a way that a father shouldn’t look at his teenage daughter, like it was her fault, like she was wrong somehow, like she shouldn’t have hips and breasts. Of course he looked at her that way when he’d come home drunk which was basically every day. The rest of the time she was invisible, nothing more than a dust mote floating in the air.

Her father had been a selfish man who never should have had a family. He took money out of their bank account for himself first and anything left her mother was welcome to use for paying for food, the mortgage, clothing and medical bills. She rolled to the other side and bunched the pillow. He ruined every holiday by getting drunk and making a scene. He even turned over the Christmas tree once while trying to plug in the lights.

Things were different now. Her father and mother were gone and she’d built a good life for herself. Now she had a chance to make Rafe and Molly a part of that life and she refused to let old fears get in the way.

***

Rafe heard Jennifer laughing with the owner of Duncan’s hardware as Rafe climbed from his truck. He’d been at the realtor’s office finalizing the sale of the old mansion to the town and was looking forward to telling Jennifer. She’d pulled her hair up into a messy knot and wore a white bib overall already sprinkled with a few dots of forest green paint. Yesterday he’d scored a big fat zero in his quest to prove to her that they didn’t belong together and today he was determined to even the score. Noticing that her arms and neck were bare to the sun, he frowned. He hoped she’d applied sunscreen but just in case she forgot, he had a tube in his pocket. He didn’t know why he was so concerned about her delicate skin, he shouldn’t be. After all, he wanted to win the bet right? But the sun’s rays blasted down like a blacksmith’s fire and she wasn’t used to working this hard in the heat. In fact, he didn’t particularly like the idea of her working outside on such a hot day.

She leaned over and poured some paint into a roller pan. The overalls pulled snugly over her shapely rear causing his pulse to beat hard at the base of his throat. Relax, McCade. She’s a woman in painting duds not high heels and a short skirt. For a moment a picture of her wearing those heels and skirt flashed like sunlight on a silver concha into his brain.

“Hi, Rafe.”

The sound of Jennifer’s voice jerked him from his lust-filled haze. “Hi, ready to start?”

“Yep, pull up a paint brush.”

Rafe nodded to Matt Duncan. “Got a pair of overalls for me too?”

“Sure thing.”

Rafe pulled off his shirt and slipped on the overalls. In a moment, he joined Jennifer and they started to paint. Most of the business owners were painting their storefronts with help from a lot of locals who had turned out to help.

He and Jennifer got to work on the area surrounding the large front window of the store. “By the way, the owners have accepted the town’s offer. The mansion officially belongs to the town of Salvation.”

She turned with a big smile on her face. “That’s great. All we need to do now is draw up some definite plans for the renovation and get started.” She sounded hopeful and excited and for some crazy reason he wanted her to keep sounding that way. He wanted her to always be hopeful and never feel down again. But that was ridiculous because he wasn’t interested in getting involved with her. He couldn’t. It was the best thing for both of them. The hot wind blew strands of her hair around and he wanted to smooth them away from her face. Sweat beaded on his forehead and beneath his hat. “Did you remember to put on sunscreen?”

She glanced at him, licked her lips then smiled. When her pink tongue swept over her lips he nearly lost it. Suddenly, he felt hot all over and desire curled in his stomach. He was going to be one poor cowboy if he didn’t get a hold of himself.

“I remembered but I might need some help reapplying it in a while because it’s really steamy out here.”

His gaze skimmed her face, neck and arms, the sunlight glistening on her skin, skin he knew was silky to the touch. Would she purr like a cat lying in the sun if he rubbed some lotion on her? “Yeah, better be careful. This heat can sneak up on you and the next thing you know you’ve got sunstroke.”

She brushed on some paint. “Worried about me or afraid of losing the bet? Because if that’s the case I’m worried about you too and that’s just one more thing that makes us right for each other. We’re both caring people.”

“You’re worried about me? What for?”

She glanced at his feet.

He looked down and saw several large drops spattered on his boots. “Damn.”

“Cowboys and paint don’t seem to go together. So, which is it? Worried about me or losing the bet?”

“First, I am worried about you passing out in this heat and second I’m not the least worried about losing the bet.” He was such a liar. “I’ll give you another hour before you find some air conditioning and a cold drink.”

She stopped painting, propped one fisted hand on her hip while she pointed at him with the paint brush. “Want to add to that bet?”

“Sure, how much?”

“I wasn’t talking about money.”

Uh, oh, he had a bad feeling about this. “Then what do you want?”

She tipped her chin in his direction and gave him the sweetest smile, a smile designed for charm and it worked like gang-busters. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“I like to know up front what I’m betting on.”

“You’re not chicken are you?”

“No way.”

“Then prove it.”

“Okay, you’re on.”

They began painting in earnest. While they worked, Grace and some of her staff set up a small tent next to the curb with tables and chairs underneath. The day grew hotter and the sun beat down like fire. Rafe watched Jennifer to make sure she kept hydrated and wasn’t pushing things to the detriment of her health just to prove a point. But she seemed to be doing fine, not ready to quit at all.

“Come and get it!” Grace called.

“Ready for some lunch?”

She swiped her arm over her forehead. “Yes, I’m starved.”

Me too and it isn’t for food.

In a few minutes, Rafe and Jennifer were settled in chairs beneath the shelter of the tent with plates filled with sandwiches and potato salad. Jennifer slipped off her sunglasses and gazed at him as she took a bite of her sandwich. She hooked them in the front of her overall causing them to dip slightly, giving him a little more view of her chest. Her eyes sparkled with mischief in the light beneath the tent. He had better win because he was worried about this bet he had agreed to. Now, with her getting fortified with food and drink, she might just last out the day. Of course he would never admit that to her. She’d already implied that he was chicken. She was hot and sweaty and had paint smudges on her cheeks, but she’d never looked more beautiful.

He took a bite of his sandwich followed by a long swig of Grace’s peach iced tea.

Jennifer unscrewed the top of her water bottle and took a long gulp. She tilted her head back and he couldn’t help but admire her neck, the skin smooth and creamy. When she finished she poured some of the cool water over her arms and he nearly lost it.

The water sluiced over her skin and made him think of a nice warm shower, his hands smoothing soap over every inch of her body. Before he could unscramble the thoughts from his brain she began smoothing more sunscreen on her arms then handed him the tube. She turned her back and lowered her chin almost to her chest. “Would you do me, please?”

He swallowed. “Do you?”

“My neck. I need more sunscreen.”

“Right.” He squeezed some of the lotion onto his palm then laid his fingers on her skin. Touching her nearly undid him. Her skin was silky soft. He smoothed the lotion on as she turned her head first one way then the other. She pulled down the straps of her overalls and the shirt she wore underneath so he could rub lotion on her shoulders. Instead of a purr, she sighed and that sigh nailed him right in the groin. He wanted to lean closer and take a good, long sniff while he pressed his lips to the back of her neck. Her skin would feel like a hot Texas night under his mouth. He had to stop these thoughts, he had to stop thinking of Jennifer in that way or he was a dead man. He removed his hands, and handed her the tube. “We’d better get back to work.”

By the time the last swipe of paint was applied the sun was sinking on the horizon, Jennifer was still standing and Rafe knew he had lost. They stripped off the overalls and headed for their vehicles. “So, are you going to tell me what you want? It seems you won the bet.”

She walked beside him to the driver’s door of his truck and leaned against it. “That’s right, I did.” She smiled. “I want a real date. With you. My choice of when and where. You up for it?”

Up, yeah he was definitely up or at least a part of him was. “Sure, but what is your definition of a real date?”

“A real date is holding hands, a kiss or three, dancing under the stars, good food, nice music and conversation. So, how about tomorrow night starting at six. Sound good?”

His gaze flicked to her hands then to her face and mouth. Hand holding and kissing with starlight sprinkling down on her face. He had to try to get out of this. But how? Then it came to him. “You haven’t heard my definition of a real date.”

She shrugged. “Okay, that’s fair. Go ahead.”

“A real date is—let me rephrase that—a first date is a quiet dinner, good food and conversation followed by a hand shake or a kiss on the cheek. See how different our ideas are?”

She started laughing and the sound caused a shiver of desire to buck through his veins. “What’s so funny?”

“We aren’t so different, Rafe.” She straightened from the side of his truck, leaned close to him and placed a palm on his chest. She looked up into his eyes and he down into hers. “We have the good food and conversation. It won’t take much to move from a hand shake and kiss on the cheek to hand holding and a couple of kisses on the lips. Just a matter of compromise and we’ve already proven we’re both good at that.”

Damn, she’s turned the tables on him in short order. He wasn’t going to be able to get out of this date because she was right. He would just have to be ready to deflect each and every one of her advances. He had to make her see that he was wrong for her and maybe a date would begin to help her see his side of things. “Okay, when and where?”

“Tomorrow night. Six sharp. The where is a secret.”

***

Tonight would be the clincher. Rafe would see how much alike they were. She knew that tonight would go perfectly right down to the new soft suede boots on her feet. She’d gone shopping in Dallas after she’d finalized the details on the Senator’s gala and picked up a new outfit. A flowing skirt in shades of blue with a white sleeveless top and a belt that hung low on her hips. She’d pulled her hair back in a silver clip and wore a new silver chain around her neck. She was sophisticated country or at least that’s what the sales person had said. JC tucked her legs to the side on the blanket that Rafe had helped her spread on the ground. The old estate looked beautiful at this time of day with the sun sinking in the sky and throwing sparkles over the lake. A hawk rode the thermals overhead. Breathing in the scent of parched grass and dry soil, she glanced at the sky spreading overhead in a hazy arc. Dark thunderheads hovered in the distance and she saw a flash of heat lightening. With a little luck, the storm would stay out on the plain. Rafe lay on his side dressed in black jeans and boots and a white shirt. His hat lay on the blanket beside him and the setting sun’s rays highlighted the side of his face. She swatted at the mosquito but refused to let anything ruin this evening not even the threat of rain.

“Hungry?” she asked Rafe who was sipping a cold beer.

“Yeah, what are we having?”

She’d like nothing better than to have him on a platter but she’d have to settle for what was in the picnic basket. She took out a few containers along with some paper plates and utensils. “Grilled chicken, pasta salad, watermelon slices and brownies for dessert.”

“Sounds good, I’m starved,” he said sitting up. She couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt. They opened the food and helped themselves.

“Did you do all the cooking?” Rafe asked before taking a bite of chicken.

“Linc helped, but I did make the brownies.”

“I look forward to tasting them.”

The way he was looking at her made her think he was talking about more than just brownies. Could he be beginning to see that they were right for each other? Good food was the way to a man’s heart, right?

“You look really nice tonight.”

His compliment made heat rise in her chest and she suddenly felt self-conscious. “Thanks.”

Thunder rumbled, the storm closer now. “How about some music?”

JC went to her car, rolled down the windows and turned on the radio. A country rock song blasted from the speakers. She walked back to Rafe and held out her hand. “May I have this dance?”

He put down his plate, patted his mouth with the napkin and stood. He was so tall it made her heart go pitter-patter like a young girl experiencing her first crush. Only her feelings had grown past a crush and into something more mature, something that a woman would feel. The feelings weren’t love yet, she still had a barrier up, a safety measure to keep her poor heart from getting broken until she was sure of how Rafe felt about her. At this point, she knew he thought she was attractive but being attractive to another person didn’t mean those feelings would turn into love.

“I’m a really good dancer,” Rafe said.

“Good to know but I’m not so bad myself. You gonna let me be the leader?”

“It’s tradition for the man to lead.”

“But the date was my idea.”

“Fair enough. I can stand it if you can.”

She faced him with one hand on his shoulder and the other holding his hand and they started to move, two quick steps followed by two slower ones. They moved with ease over the ground while the music thrummed in the early evening air. He kept his gaze pinned to hers with a slight smile on his lips. The breeze lifted a lock of his hair and her fingers itched to run her fingers through it. He was so strong and in that moment she had never felt safer in her life. The man could take on the world on those wide shoulders. The song ended then a slow, easy love song about loss and daring to give love another try came on the radio. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Rafe pulled her close to his body and his arm moved around her, his big palm settling on the small of her back. She looked up into his eyes, eyes that seemed to grow a deeper blue and were filled with heat. They moved slowly in the field as the wind picked up and with it the scent of rain, but she couldn’t take her eyes from his face. What would it be like to lie with him in this field, skin to skin? He lowered his head but his eyes stayed on hers. Just as his mouth touched hers the first fat drops of rain started to fall. Lightening cracked followed by thunder. He gave her one quick soft kiss then pulled back. “We’d better get in the car.”

Just as they reached the blanket, the heavens opened up and a driving sheet of rain plummeted. In an instant, JC was soaked to the skin. Together they gathered up the picnic things, stuffed them into the trunk of her car and jumped inside. Water dripped down her face. She looked at her legs, her new boots spattered with mud and wet grass, her new skirt soaked. Then she looked at Rafe. He looked hot and sexy and gorgeous as if he’d just stepped out of a shower. It wasn’t fair. She’d gone to a lot of trouble. She’d looked really good when she’d left the house and now she looked like a drowned rat.

Before she could say anything, he pulled off his shirt and threw it on the back seat. Her mouth fell open in response to all that male beauty suddenly on display just for her. He rummaged around in the picnic basket and pulled out a damp roll of paper towels. He yanked off a handful then handed her the roll. He rubbed the towels over his arms and torso then over his hair. She patted her face with a paper towel, looked in the vanity mirror and was horrified at what she saw. Mascara ran down her face, her hair was flat against her skull and she saw herself as a young girl again walking into the classroom after begin caught in the rain without an umbrella and Rona and her cronies snickering behind their hands.

He reached over and pulled a wet leaf and a couple of twigs from her hair. She turned and looked at him having his touch bring her out of her memory. He chuckled. “You look like one of those sad eyed clowns.”

She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. “What?”

His face paled slightly. “But much prettier, of course.”

“Right, thanks a lot.”

“Hey, relax. I was just kidding.”

He huffed out a breath. “I told you I was bad at relationships. I put my foot in my mouth all the time where women are concerned.”

She decided to take the high road. “That’s okay. I over-reacted.” She cranked the engine and said, “What’s a little rain between friends?”

***

Later as she stood under a hot shower, she thought it was much more than rain between friends. Or at least it felt like it. She didn’t want to act like a kid and hold a grudge but his words had hurt. A sad eyed clown indeed. She’d noticed the expression on his face. He’d felt bad about what he said. I told you I was bad at relationships. Maybe he was. Did that mean she should give up trying to make Rafe see that they were right for each other? Her first reaction was to shore up her defenses, to act like everything was fine but it wasn’t. He’d planted a seed of doubt in her mind with his words. No, she wouldn’t give up yet. There was still time. So fate had put a little rock along the path and blurred the direction. That didn’t mean they didn’t belong together. Or did it? There was only one way to find out. Keep pushing ahead, keep going until the end of her thirty days. By then she would know for sure one way or the other.