All Flash No Cash (5 page)

His arm went around her shoulder as if they’d
done this a thousand times. Tipping his head, he sucked in the
scent of spices and flowers floating from her hair. That was CJ. A
mix of sugar and pepper.

Touching her this way did spicy things to his
machismo, but it rode softly in his heart, too. She seemed so
alone, so independent. Too hard-working, maybe in too hard of a
shell for him to crack. But damn, he’d like to give it a try.

Now wasn’t the time to make a move. He patted
her arm companionably, when all he wanted to do was grab her closer
and help take away her pain.

Backing away, she straightened her shoulders.
“Sorry, I don’t know what—”

“Hey.” Their gazes met. “Don’t be sorry.
I’m…” What was he? Intrigued by her for sure, a little intimidated
by her being his employer, having daydreams about the two of them
all naked, skin on skin, and sweaty. “I’m glad you told me about
him.”

“You really want…to meet him? Harry?” She
stared so intently into Pete’s eyes, he nearly had to look
away.

“I would like to meet him.” He gave her a
smile. “That way, I can ask him if CJ really stands for Calamity
Jane.”

The spark immediately flared in her eyes and
she gave a humorless laugh. “Hayseed, the last man that asked me if
I was named after her, is now buried up there on the hill, right
next to her.” She pointed in the direction of Mount Moriah
Cemetery.

He backed away, holding up his hands in
surrender. “No offense. Can’t blame a man for asking.”

She nearly smiled. “All right, I need to get
to work, and you need to work on your art.” CJ picked up the
baskets and Pete got the trash bag. They headed down the steps, her
in the lead.

Since CJ was in a softer mood, this would be
a good time for him to ask for another concession from her. “Your
photo shoot is in about three weeks. Where is that going to
happen?”

She stopped at her apartment door. “Right
here in the garage, with a backdrop. We’re going to hire a bikini
model to…you know…lay all over the bike.” She shrugged. “I’m told
that’ll sell more raffle tickets or something.”

He lifted his brows. CJ didn’t seem like the
type to go with the cliché. But biker magazines were full of that
kind of advertisement. “Probably a good idea. I’d like to be there
for the shoot, if that’s okay. Maybe get my picture taken with the
bike, too.”

“Of course. That’d be good for your resume.”
She winked then pressed buttons on the keypad. The door popped
open.

He caught a glimpse of a bright space inside.
“Thanks. I’ll cover the cost of my pictures.”

“No, you won’t.” She took the garbage bag
from him. “And your meals and beer are free here, too. While you’re
working, that is. Not forever.”

Not forever.
That could be the tagline
for CJ’s life.

She started to close the door. “See you
later.”

“Yep.” He turned and trotted down the steps.
He had a few new ideas for the bike, now that he knew more about
her father, and he wanted to get them down on paper. He paused at
the last step and looked up at the second floor windows. How was
she going to react when he completely ignored her suggestions? He
pushed through the gate, whistling the first song that popped into
his head.
Crazy.

****

After closing the door on Pete, CJ headed
straight for the bedroom. When he put his arm around her on the
roof, she’d nearly melted into a puddle at his feet. How did he do
that? What kind of wicked chemistry did they have flowing between
them?

She sat on the bed and pulled a sky-blue
pillow onto her lap. She could see the two of them wrestling around
on her mattress for hours and hours. But was that all she wanted?
He was one of those men who women looked for all their lives.
Honest, hardworking, gentle, strong, smart.

“Oh, no. You can’t go that direction.” She
wanted to get the hell out of Deadwood. See things in person that
she’d only seen on TV. Falling for a rancher who would sweep her
off her feet and deposit her in a little house on the prairie was
not in her plans.

And one night with Pete would be enough to
turn her goals from world-traveler to apron-clad wife and mother of
eight. Lying on her side, she hugged the pillow tight. Best for
both of them if she kept him at arm’s length from now on. Closing
her eyes, she put everything aside and slept, dreaming of that
ranch house and the four walls that seemed to close in on her like
a trap.

That evening, CJ spotted Pete as he came in
the back door of the saloon and found a stool at the bar.

She let Tony wait on him while she kept busy
with the waitresses’ orders. She was at the kitchen service counter
when Pete’s food came up, and she automatically grabbed it. She
almost set it down again, then stiffened her spine and marched
toward him. Hell, she was not one to shy away from anyone or
anything.

Setting the grilled cheese sandwich and onion
ring basket in front of Pete, she pointed to his half-empty mug.
“What ‘cha drinking?”

“Lite. I’m heading out to my friend’s place,
but I’ll be back in the morning.” He looked into her eyes. “Are you
visiting your dad tomorrow?”

She froze, his mug in her hand. She hadn’t
planned to visit Harry. Didn’t think Pete was serious about meeting
him. But why not? Get it done and over with, anyway. “Around
ten?”

“Sounds good.” He bit into an onion ring, his
white teeth strong and straight.

A flash of her imagination had those teeth
nibbling at her nipple. She shivered, hot and hungry for the one
thing she promised herself not to partake of.

He chewed, watching her. His gaze dropped to
her T-shirt, his chewing stopped, then his gaze shot to her eyes.
One brow rose. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed, sexy in
his strong neck.

Damn, hard nipples and a thin T-shirt. She
turned quickly, nearly ramming into Tony as he passed with a bucket
of ice. CJ refilled Pete’s beer and set it in front of him. “I’ll
come by the garage and get you.”

“I’ll be ready.” He winked at her.

She walked away. This crazy, middle-school
crush she had on him would
not
continue.

The lie fell away from her libido like
peeling paint.

The next morning at ten, CJ stood outside the
garage in a purple sundress and white sandals. She’d put her phone
and clutch into a white purse, which felt almost ridiculous hanging
from her hand. Why carry a bag when you had pockets?

She took a few breaths then keyed in the code
and pushed open the door.

Pete sat at a tall stool, hunched over a
makeshift table of sawhorses and particle board. He’d opened all
the windows and the breeze rushed through and out the door. He
grabbed at papers as they tried to escape the table.

CJ quickly shut the door. “Sorry.”

He turned, smiling. “Not a problem.” He
looked her up and down, then whistled. “You look stunning.” He
walked toward her.

She glanced down, smoothing out an imaginary
wrinkle. Why did he always say the right thing? How did he always
make her feel…beautiful? She gritted her teeth. What had she just
told herself? Don’t let feelings creep in. “Stunning, if you like
eggplant.” When she glanced at his face, he frowned.

“You don’t need to do that.” He took her arm
and guided her toward the door.

“Do…” She was going to ask, “what?” but she
knew exactly what he meant.

He opened the door for her and gestured to
his truck. “I’ll drive.”

She looked at the well-used vehicle. Riding
in his truck, sitting next to him, sharing the same air; it all
seemed too cozy. She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “My car is
inside the attached garage.”

He kept walking toward his pickup. “This is
out and ready.” He opened the passenger door and helped her in,
closing the door and jogging around the front of the truck.

After they were on the road, he gestured to
the backseat. “Okay if I bring a sketch pad into the care center
with me?”

“Sure. Dad is…was…an artist. He’d enjoy
seeing you draw something.” She looked out the window. Harry used
to have an incredible talent for capturing light and emotion from a
scene. Now, he could barely hold a pencil.

“I’d like to see his work.” Pete pulled into
the driveway.

“I have nearly all of his works hanging in my
apartment.” The few paintings he’d sold, were prized possessions of
Harry’s friends in Deadwood. Maybe she could sell a few more to
benefit the care center.

“Is that an invitation?” Parking the truck,
Pete wagged his brows at her.

“Huh?” Oh great, he thought she’d invited him
to her apartment? And now her cheeks heated. “Not likely,
hayseed.”

With a laugh, he opened his door and came
around the hood.

She had her door open before he got to her,
and slid out while he grabbed his sketchpad and a small box, and
followed her toward the front door. “Just so you know, Miss CJ,
technically, I’m a cowboy. We don’t raise any
hay
on our
ranch. Just cattle.”

Her heart thunked a couple times. A cowboy.
Hell, one of her sweetest fantasies was riding off into the
sunset…

“You ready?” He placed his hand on the door
handle.

She’d stopped dead in her tracks, daydreaming
of Pete on a horse. “You have horses?”

He nodded. “Yep. Mom’s a horse lover. Rides
every day.” He pulled open the door. “You ride?”

She shook her head. “Not since high school.”
CJ walked into the facility, greeting the staff, then signing in
for them both.

They walked down a carpeted hallway, the
scent of disinfectant prevailing, mixing with some perfumed spray
that emanated from small dispensers near the ceiling. Voices
called, mumbled, sang. It had taken her a while to get used to the
cacophony. How would Pete handle it?

“Nice place.” He smiled. And it looked
sincere.

CJ stopped at the open door to her father’s
room. He sat in his lounge chair watching a sports channel. “The TV
calms him, so we leave it on whenever he’s awake.”

Pete looked at Harry, his face tight. “Is he
going to be okay with me? I mean, I’m a stranger.”

Her breath caught as she sucked in oxygen.
“Everyone’s a stranger to him, Pete.” Swallowing a burst of
emotion, she pasted on a closed-mouth smile for her dad.

Pete set his hand on her lower back.
“Sorry.”

Stepping into the room, she waited until
Harry looked up. “Hi, Dad.”

He frowned, his wrinkled face looking too
pale, his green eyes searching between her and Pete. “Me?” His
right hand shook, his left stayed curled in a fist.

She moved closer and sat on the small table
next to him. “Daddy, it’s CJ.”

The few gray hairs he had left on his head
were standing up at all angles. “CJ?” She could see the name didn’t
mean anything to him.

“This is my friend Pete.” She gestured him
closer and used the remote to reduce the volume on the TV. “He’s an
artist, too.”

Pete sat in the chair perpendicular to
Harry’s. “Mr. Overton. It’s good to meet you.”

Harry just looked at the sketchpad on Pete’s
lap.

Pete opened it and turned to a blank page.
“What do you like to draw, Mr. Overton?”

Her dad didn’t answer, his gaze wandering
back to the television.

CJ talked to him as Pete used colored pencils
to sketch something. Occasionally, Pete joined in the conversation.
After a few minutes, he flipped the page and started a new
drawing.

When Harry began nodding off, she stood.
“We’ll get going, Dad.” She kissed his forehead. “You sleep and
I’ll see you in a few days.”

Her dad reached for her hand. He hadn’t done
that in a while. “Thank you.” His trembling fingers squeezed
hers.

Tears formed but she blinked them back.

Pete tore a sheet out of his pad. “Mr.
Overton, this will help you keep CJ close, even when she’s not
here. He set the paper in Harry’s lap. A head and shoulders
drawing, looking so much like her, it could have been a mirror.
He’d written CJ in big letters on the top corner.

Her dad touched the paper, then looked at
her. “That’s you.”

CJ had to bite her lip to keep from losing it
completely. “It is, Daddy.” She stroked his arm until his eyes
drifted shut. She gestured for Pete to follow her and they tiptoed
out of the room. She pulled the door nearly closed. “He likes to
sleep more and more now.”

Pete took her hand. “He’s a nice guy.”

She had to look away from the sincerity in
his eyes, or she’d break down. “You’re a nice guy, too.” She let go
of his hand and started toward the front door. “Thank you for the
drawing. I never would have thought of that.”

“You’re welcome.” He followed silently.

In the truck on the way back to the saloon,
Pete turned on the radio and took the scenic route. “Want to stop
for lunch?” He glanced at her. “I know a good place.”

She nodded. “That’d be good.” It was rare she
ate anywhere but at the bar or in her apartment. Eating out alone
was no fun.

He swung into a fast food drive-through.

“Fancy.” CJ pulled a face.

Pete chuckled. “It’ll taste better once we
get to our destination.”

“And that is where?” She checked the menu,
seeing a sub she’d like.

“Not far. I know you’re busy.” He ordered for
them, and once they had the food, headed out of town. He stopped at
a spot along Whitewood Creek.

She reached for her door handle.

“Hang on.” His hand wrapped around her arm.
He took a few seconds, looking at where their skin touched, then
pulled back his hand and shifted into four-wheel.

“Off-roadin’?”

“Just a bit.” He drove the truck up a
barely-there road, over a steep hill, and down to where the river
rushed over rocks. “Used to come here when I was a teenager.” He
shut off the truck and looked around. “Quiet here.”