Authors: Nicole Edwards
“We’re comin’,” Lane offered Cody.
“Damn stupid men,” Mercy grumbled beneath her breath.
Lane laughed.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Miller. You think you’re
funny. I promise you won’t like what I have in store for you.”
“Do your worst,” Lane countered. “But before you do
that, tell me where Grant went.”
The two of them walked side by side toward the huge
metal structure where Cody spent most of his days.
“No idea,” Mercy replied. “Swear to God. Zach didn’t
say. Just that Grant hauled ass outta here a while ago. After the confrontation
with that crazy bastard this mornin’, I can’t say that I blame him. I’d be
puttin’ the hurtin’ on that man if he were related to me.”
“You were there?” Lane asked, stopping midstride.
“Unfortunately,” Mercy replied, her eyes on the ground
as she kept moving.
Lane had to widen his stride to catch up with her when
his legs started working again.
“His father, right?” Lane asked, confirming what
Gracie had already told him.
“That’s the rumor,” Mercy answered with a chuckle.
“Although, if I were Grant, I wouldn’t claim the asshole.”
Yeah, well, people weren’t that lucky.
Lane and Mercy stepped into the shop, the huge fans
mounted to the ceiling offering a breeze, although it wasn’t cool by any means.
The scent of motor oil and dirt floated in the air.
As they moved deeper into the dim building, Lane
noticed Cody standing near a makeshift break area, complete with a coffeepot,
sink, and a small refrigerator. The guy was pouring three cups of coffee, his
gaze continually fluttering over to Mercy, who was wandering around one of the
tractors that Cody was working on. She, obviously, was doing everything
possible not to look at the shirtless cowboy.
Yep, these two were crazy for each other. How the hell
could they not see it?
Lane had to wonder why neither of them was willing to
admit it. Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair. Cody was rather obvious with his
interest, but Mercy… That woman was so far in denial, Lane was surprised she
knew where she was most of the time.
“I heard you and your dad are gonna have a race on
Sunday.” Cody was speaking to Mercy as he handed Lane a cup of coffee, his eyes
glued to the woman who was hiding on the other side of the tractor.
“Yep,” she answered, her tone dull, as though she were
bored.
Right.
Bored.
If it were possible to bottle Mercy’s energy, they
wouldn’t need to have guests stay at the ranch because they’d all be rich just
selling the stuff.
“Race?” Lane asked. He hadn’t heard about a race. “You
and Jerry?”
“Yep.”
“You gonna ride Shadow Mist?” Lane asked Mercy,
realizing as soon as the words were out of his mouth that it was a stupid
question.
“Yep.”
Well, Mercy was now the one-word wonder.
“Which horse is your dad gonna ride?” Cody asked,
clearly wanting to be part of the conversation.
“No idea. Doesn’t really matter. He’s gonna lose no
matter what,” Mercy said, her brain obviously reattaching itself to her
vocabulary list.
“You gonna be there?” Cody asked, this time his
question directed at Lane.
“Damn right.”
He hoped, anyway. That rather depended on where Grant
was and what he was doing. If the guy had gone rogue, chasing after his crazy
father, Lane had the feeling he’d be on the road at that point.
Trying to track him down.
Shit.
He couldn’t very well stand around and drink coffee
while Grant was off doing God knows what. He had to find him. Tossing back the
lukewarm liquid as if it were a shot, Lane tossed the cup into the garbage can
as he headed back the way he’d come in. “You two kids have fun now. I’ve gotta
run.”
Since he didn’t have his phone on him, he would have
to grab it first, along with his truck keys, and then … then he was going to
take a road trip.
A blast of heat hit him as the sun shone down on his
face when he stepped out of the building. With his mind on one thing and one
thing only, Lane had to make an effort to turn around and shout back to Mercy,
“If anyone’s lookin’ for me, tell ’em I’ll be back later!”
With Mercy calling his name, clearly not happy about
being abandoned with Cody, Lane practically ran out of there as fast as his
feet would carry him.
Son of a bitch.
Mercy was going to throttle Lane the next time she saw
him.
“So…”
Mercy didn’t respond to Cody’s conversation starter.
After the last time they were here…
Oh, good grief, woman, do not think
about that.
“Uh…” Yeah, so Mercy really had no idea what she was
supposed to say. Her mind was blank, mainly because she was forcing it to be.
If she allowed herself to think at all, she was going to think about that night
when she’d sat astride this man and…
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Cody asked.
“I’m not thinkin’ about a damn thing.”
Other than
how freaking hot he looked without a damn shirt on, his sweat-slick chest
glistening in the overhead lights.
How in the world could this man talk to her after how
crappy she’d been to him last night? Was he made of steel? Did harsh words just
ricochet right off him?
“No? You’re blushin’, so I figure it’s gotta be
somethin’.”
Mercy squeezed between two of the big pieces of
equipment only to find herself stepping out right in front of Cody.
Damn it.
“Leave it alone, Mercer,” Mercy snapped, doing her
absolute darnedest not to look down at his chiseled pecs or to remember how
hard his shoulders had felt beneath her hands when she’d been riding him.
Oh,
crap.
“The only reason I’m here is so I could talk to Lane.”
“Really?” Cody asked, taking a step closer. So close
Mercy could smell him. He smelled like motor oil and … something else that was
rather potent. She couldn’t place it, but whatever it was, she’d found herself
craving it. Hell, even during that damn dream that she couldn’t seem to get rid
of, she could smell him.
Mercy looked up at Cody, praying he didn’t see into
her head, praying he didn’t guess what she was thinking. What had happened
between them was a mistake. She knew it. He knew it. A big honking mistake that
she wished she could take back.
Uh-huh. When did you become the world’s biggest liar?
Mercy didn’t have a chance to throw back a mental
argument with that little voice that had taken up residence in her head because
the next thing she knew, Cody was tipping her chin up with the edge of one
finger — his work-roughened finger that felt
way
too good touching her —
and Mercy’s breath caught in her throat.
“Are you thinkin’ about that night?” he asked, his
voice soft, seductive.
She hated his voice.
Liar, liar pants on fire!
Mercy shook her head, all the while, mentally yelling
at that little voice in her head, screaming,
Yes, dammit, that’s all I think
about!
“God, Merce, I can’t think about anything but you,”
Cody whispered, the thundering bass of his voice making her insides quake.
Damn him.
“Well, you shouldn’t,” she shot back in a barely there
whisper, locking her gaze with his.
His green eyes sparkled like emeralds, even in the
harsh florescent lights overhead, and damn it all to hell and back, Mercy
wished he would kiss her right then. Cut all the crap, ignore all of the arguments
she’d tossed his way, and kiss her, damn it.
“I know,” he agreed. “But I can’t help it.”
Why wasn’t she pulling away from him?
The question pounded inside of her brain, a warning
that if she let him touch her, she might just do something incredibly stupid.
Again.
Her eyes drifted down his face, over his slightly
crooked nose, his smooth cheeks, and landed on his lips. Cody Mercer had the
nicest lips she’d ever seen on a man. They were smooth and firm and… Damn it!
He was leaning in close, and Mercy was rooted in
place, unable to pull away, unable to push him. The thought of him kissing her
again, those delicious, hot kisses, made her knees weak.
No.
No damn way.
Mercy Lambert was not a weak-kneed woman. Not for him
or any man.
Thankfully, sanity returned when he was just a
hairsbreadth away.
“In your dreams, Mercer.”
Ducking around him, Mercy came out from between his
hot freaking body and the equipment just in time to see her father stepping
into the shadows of the building.
“Hey, girlie,” Jerry greeted. “What are you doin’
here?”
Saved by the bell!
Turning back to look at Cody, she saw that he hadn’t
bothered to turn around. His big, broad shoulders were straight, his legs
locked, and one hand was thrust into his hair, the other holding his ball cap.
“Just checkin’ in,” Mercy lied.
She was on a roll
today, wasn’t she?
Turning back to face her father, she added, “I’ve gotta
head over to the kitchen. Make sure the dinner menu’s in place.”
“You sure?” Jerry asked, grinning. “You don’t think
you oughta be practicin’ for the race?”
And just like that, Mercy forgot all about Cody — or
so she told herself. “No practicin’ for me. I’ve got this one in the bag.”
Especially since she had something up her sleeve that not even her father would
expect.
And with that, Mercy fled Cody’s shop, reminding
herself never, ever, ever to go back there. The fact that her father had nearly
walked in on them kissing was proof that this infatuation she had with Cody was
getting way out of hand.
Hopefully, Cody agreed.
But if he didn’t, that really wasn’t her problem, now
was it?
■□■□■□■□
Jerry watched Mercy flee the scene. He fought the urge
to laugh, knowing that Cody had turned around to face him.
He had to give the kid credit — whatever had been
going on between him and Mercy, the man had masked his expression fairly well.
Too bad Jerry knew the kid as well as he knew his own daughters. Cody Mercer
had been employed by Dead Heat Ranch for going on seven years now — since the
ripe old age of eighteen.
There was something going on between Mercy and Cody.
Jerry could feel it. And whatever it was, this wasn’t a new development because
the tension between the two of them had been mounting for months now.
“How’s the mower comin’ along?” Jerry moved deeper
into the building, walking around behind the piece of equipment in question.
“Should be up and runnin’ within an hour,” Cody
replied, his tone brisk yet still kind. If it hadn’t been for the way Cody was
rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, Jerry might’ve believed that he
wasn’t at all affected by Mercy’s abrupt departure.
“No rush. We’ll just want it by next week.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You gonna watch the race on Sunday?” Jerry asked,
unwilling to walk out just yet.
It wasn’t that he was trying to be nosy — okay, yes,
he was definitely trying — but he wanted to get a feel for what was going on
with Cody. Not just in regards to Mercy, either.
“I’m hopin’ to. I’ve gotta get this done.” Cody tilted
his head toward a Bobcat that was sitting in the far corner. “They’re usin’ it
to load the remains of the old stable onto a trailer to take to the dump.
Someone fuc— er … messed it up yesterday. Grant’s been on my butt to get it
fixed ASAP.”
“Do what you gotta do, but be there if you can.”
Cody nodded but didn’t respond as he reached for two
white foam cups sitting on the mower in front of him. Hmm… Two cups. That meant
he’d been having coffee with Mercy.
“How’s your mom?”
“Never better. She’s goin’ on a cruise at the end of
the month.”
A few months back, Cody’s mother had been in the
hospital due to dehydration after catching the flu, from what Jerry remembered.
“Good to hear. Everything else goin’ okay?” Jerry asked, thrusting his hands
into his pockets as he leaned against a steel beam.
“Yup.”
Okay, Jerry knew a brush-off when he received one.
Pushing himself off the beam, he nodded at Cody. “Talk to you later then.”
Taking his time, just to see if Cody wanted to add
anything to the conversation, Jerry pretended to check out a couple of machines
that were sitting near the door. When the screech of metal on metal sounded from
behind him, Jerry took that to be his dismissal.
Stumbling upon Mercy and Cody had actually been an
accident. He had originally come over to the shop to see if Grant was there,
hoping to talk to him for a few minutes. He knew Grant would probably like to
hear what the conversation between him and Darrell had entailed. Not that Jerry
had much he could say.
Making his way to the house, Jerry thought back to his
conversation with Grant’s father earlier that morning. Talking to Darrell
Kingsley was like talking to a brick wall. The wheels inside the guy’s head
were always turning, but he couldn’t seem to hear anyone else over the
squeaking of the rusty gears. It was safe to say that Jerry’s suggestion that
the man get some help for his gambling addiction — which Darrell had admitted
to — had gone unheeded.
Jerry doubted that was anything new to Grant.
As much as he wished he could do something to help the
situation, he knew that getting involved would only cause problems. But after
Darrell had blatantly disregarded Gracie and Mercy while his daughters had been
in the room, Jerry couldn’t just sit by and allow the man to waltz out the door
without at least a few suggestions.
Initially, Jerry hadn’t intended to say a word, but
something in the way Grant had looked at Gracie had had him reconsidering.
Was there something in the water around this place?
Hell, he knew his girls were growing up — technically,
they weren’t girls anymore, they were incredible young women, but he would
always think of them as his little girls — and Jerry wasn’t blind to the way
the men on the ranch looked at them. To their credit — his girls’, not the
cowboys’ — they were smart to boot. They had all made him proud, so worrying
about who they spent their time with had never been an issue for him. Then
again, tossing out his threats to skin a cowboy’s hide if he so much as looked
at his girls had gone a long way in keeping the men from chasing them around.
Or so he’d thought.
It wasn’t that he would really hurt a man for dating
one of his daughters — as long as the guy treated her right — but he knew if he
tossed out the warnings from time to time, it would keep the weaker men at bay.
Only a man with brass balls would stand up to Jerry when it came to dating one
of his girls. And that right there was the sole reason he continued with the
trend.
Jerry’s cell phone rang as he was stepping into his
office. Snagging it from his pocket, he glanced at the screen and smiled. This
was a nice surprise.
“Hey, honey,” he greeted as he closed his office door
behind him.
“How are you?” Jan asked, her voice like a balm to his
soul.
Jan Haile was the main reason for Jerry’s good mood
these last few months. “Better now that you called.”
“I was thinking…”
“About?” Jerry asked as he plopped down into his desk
chair, his heart beating double-time just from the soft tone of her voice in
his ear. It was crazy what this woman made him feel.
Him.
At almost
fifty-five years old, Jerry felt like a damned young man again, eager and
anxious just to talk to this woman on the phone.
“I’d like to see you.”
“It’s been a while, huh?” he replied, trying to
remember the last time they’d managed to spend time together. The calendar on
his desk told him that he’d been neglecting his woman for more than a week.
“Too long.”
“Why don’t you come out here to the ranch?” he asked.
It had been a frequent request of his over the last month or so. Generally, he
was met with numerous rebuttals on Jan’s part, all, unfortunately, legitimate,
but still frustrating nonetheless. While Jerry wanted to throw caution to the
wind and bring Jan to the ranch to meet his daughters, Jan wanted to take
things slow.
The woman was incredible, he’d give her that much. But
he was getting damn tired of slow.
“Are you sure?”
Jerry sat up straight in his chair. No arguments?
“Positive,” he responded quickly. God, he needed to see her. More than he
needed to eat or sleep or ... or breathe.
“Tonight?”
“Now is fine,” he told her, loving the way she laughed
at his eager response.
“Not now,” Jan stated. “Let’s wait until after dark.”
Jerry hated the fact that they seemed to be sneaking
around. Actually, there was no “seeming” about it. They
were
sneaking
around and had been for the last eight months since they’d first gotten
together. As much as he feared what his daughters would think about him dating
someone, Jerry was beginning to grow tired of hiding.
“Fine,” he huffed, smiling as he did. “I’ll see you
tonight. Come to my office.” Jerry didn’t need to tell Jan how to find his
office because, although she hadn’t been back to the ranch since they’d
officially started dating, Jan had been to his office before. Back when she was
a guest at the ranch.