COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance (15 page)

A silver-haired, chubby, aproned woman fluttered down the stone steps of the house, waving excitedly at them.

Jared let out a sigh. “And here comes Aunt Bea to meet us.”

“Well, I guess we better just cooperate with her, then,” she added in mock seriousness.

Jared raised an eyebrow. “I'll get the bags. You’re in charge of the cheerful madwoman.”

“No problem.”

Their easy banter instantly comforted her as Lacey took a deep breath and opened her door, mentally slipping into her professional personae before her sandaled feet touched the ground.

***

After surviving the publicity ordeal of two photographers and four reporters, Jared and Lacey followed their hostess into the kitchen. Through Mrs. Miller's nonstop monologue they learned she and her husband had lived all their married lives in the secluded stone house, year by year building enough rental cabins to eventually make a decent living for themselves.

While Jared and Lacey listened, she bustled around the kitchen, efficiently building mile-high roast beef sandwiches.

“You must be famished,” she muttered. “I didn't think those reporters would ever leave.”

Jared and Lacey exchanged neutral glances.

“Don't get me wrong,” she continued, “the publicity is priceless—you just can't buy that kind of advertising. Lettuce and tomato?” she asked, not bothering to even look up from her work.

Jared and Lacey said “yes” in unison.

“There. Now you two just sit here and eat. I'll check on your cabin and have Andy take your things on over.” Before she left, she paused long enough to put down two plates on the table, each heaped with potato salad and a monstrous sandwich. “Help yourself to whatever's in the icebox to drink.”

Unhesitatingly, Jared picked up the sandwich and took a big bite, surprised how hungry he felt. The bread was sweet and dark, definitely homemade. It would be a treat to have someone else handle meals for a couple days, he decided, another perk to getting away.

He paused a moment and rolled the tension from his shoulders. He felt the distinct crack of some vertebrae in his spine. It had been a very long, uncomfortable afternoon.

Two hours of posing with his arm around Lacey's waist, gazing into her hazel-green eyes, forced to stand where and how the photographers wished, arms constantly around each other—he was exhausted from the strain of restraint.

Their final pose had consisted of Lacey sitting on his lap while they stared into the fire that blazed in the gigantic stone fireplace. It had almost been too much. He wondered if she'd felt his hardened groin. If she had, she hadn't shown it and for that he was grateful.

Surprisingly, the posing seemed to have little, if any, effect on her. She had remained cool, calm, and collected. He had been amazed at her composure through it all, wondering how she could remain so controlled.

Every time his hand was on her body he'd had to fill his mind with distracting lists—lists of things he needed to get at the grocery store…tools that needed cleaning…names of all the alpacas in his herd...anything to keep himself from caressing her arm…her shoulder…her back. It had been a tortuous exercise in diversion.

“Good?” Lacey asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He nodded, his mouth too full to answer. He watched her as she took a decidedly unladylike bite of the sandwich. At least she was human enough to be hungry. He enjoyed watching her eat, remembering how their dinner together at his place had been fine, fun even.

They ate silently for several moments.

“I may live,” he finally said when his plate was half empty.

She nodded her agreement.

Jared's chair scraped noisily as he pushed himself away from the table. He opened the refrigerator door and stuck his head inside. “There's milk, OJ, and beer.”

“Beer, if there’s dark,” she answered.

He opened two beers and put them on the table. As he drew a long swallow from his, Lacey did the same.

Jared watched her, trance-like, as her tongue flicked over her lower lip to catch a tiny drop of liquid. She caught him staring, and her cheeks flushed red.

“One of the best dark beers out of Mexico.” He stared at her lips, moist and full. Lips he wanted to get closer to.

The slamming door signaled the return of their hostess, jolting him back to reality.

He only had one thought ricocheting in his mind.

It's going to be one hell of a long night.

Chapter Ten

Jared walked silently behind Lacey as they followed Mrs. Miller to the cabin she had selected for them. While she chattered to Lacey about the ups and downs of the bed and breakfast business, Jared stared at Lacey's hair.

Her long curls captured the intermittent rays of sunlight that broke through the pines, producing dazzling highlights of dark auburn and deep mahogany. His hand reached out to lift a curl, quickly retracting it as Lacey's hand reached back to smooth her waves, as though she’d maybe sensed his fingers longing to touch her silky hair.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, like a schoolboy ready to torment the girl he secretly desired, he forced himself to look ahead at the cabin they were approaching.

It was built of rough logs, with a large stone chimney reminiscent of the one at the main house. Pine trees grew amazingly close to the walls, sheltering it from the late afternoon sun and heat. There was a definite ambiance of coziness, seclusion, and peace and quiet.

Under different circumstances…

No, he couldn’t let himself think one thought further.

***

Inside the cabin, Jared and Lacey obediently followed their hostess from room to room, listening attentively.

“This one rents almost exclusively to newlyweds,” Mrs. Miller explained.

Lacey avoided looking at Jared as her pulse quickened.

At first glance their accommodations seemed like a typical rustic cabin with its rough hewn log walls and plank floor, but Mrs. Miller proudly pointed out all the modern amenities.

“There's plenty of wood for the fireplace. It'll get chilly as soon as the sun goes down. Matches are on the mantel. Do you know how to build a fire?”

Lacey glanced at the sheepskin rug in front of the massive fireplace, then at Jared. He nodded his answer to Mrs. Miller’s question.

Oh my.
Lacey wasn't so sure she could handle seeing Jared by firelight. Every time he’d placed his arm possessively around her waist during the endless photo shoot with the reporters firing question after question, she’d felt a confusing mixture of contentment and…
what?
Temptation, she’d decided, then shook off the unwanted thought that rang a little too true.

No, this was simply a weekend with a nice guy. No expectations. No complications. They both deserved a break from their busy lives, right? They were adults, for heaven’s sake. Just because they were spending…time…together didn’t mean, well, anything.

There was no logical reason not to be there.

In the living room Mrs. Miller also casually mentioned the sofa made out into a bed, so there were even easy sleeping arrangements built in.

Perfect
.

Finally satisfied she’d at least mentally worked through the situation, Lacey shifted her attention back to Mrs. Miller as the followed her down the hall.

“We just remodeled the bathroom and added an oversized tub in here,” she explained, “complete with whirlpool jets. People pay more for it these days. And who doesn’t love a nice hot bath.” She pointed out the controls and where the towels were kept.

Now that sounds like my idea of the perfect Saturday night
. Lacey gazed longingly at the huge claw-foot tub that looked old, but was completely modern. Her muscles ached like crazy. She wasn't sure if it was from the tense ride up the mountain or from the stress of all the uncomfortably romantic poses the photographer had insisted on.

The feel of Jared's muscular arms around her had made her head swim. She had used every ounce of ability to concentrate on not reacting to the feel of his body touching hers in so many intimate poses. In her attempt to block her feelings, she barely remembered what had even happened over the two hours of dealing with the publicity crew.

She’d shifted into her professional persona, she supposed, a talent she’d developed as she’d learned to deal with corporate bigwigs who dropped in unannounced at the salon from time to time, and it was also a technique she’d used many times over the years when handling difficult clients.

The subsequent newspaper articles would certainly prove whether she’d managed to speak intelligently or not, and now that it was over, she found herself letting it all go.
It is what it is. No sense worrying about it now.

“The bedroom's over here,” Mrs. Miller continued, walking back out into the hallway and into another room. “There's an extra comforter in the wardrobe.”

Lacey quietly gasped in appreciation as she walked into the large room. The bedroom was filled with mint condition antiques, giving the impression of walking into a high class nineteenth century hotel instead of a rustic mountain cabin. Wildflowers filled cranberry glass vases on the tall dresser and bedside tables. An upholstered rocking chair sat by the window next to a round table covered with an antique lace cloth.

The hardwood floors were covered with thick, Persian carpets that begged to be walked on barefoot. In front of the fireplace was a large sheepskin rug.

The bed was an old-fashioned four-poster, open at the top, each post draped in gauzy linen fabric. Pillows were heaped on the bed, a hand-stitched quilt folded at the foot completing the look.

“And here's the private patio, which is also accessible from the living room.” Mrs. Miller opened the tall French doors and they followed her out to a fenced-in, private deck where a small hot tub was recessed in the center. Next to the spa were two oversized wicker chairs and a glass-topped table.

“It's beautiful,” Lacey said. When she looked for Jared, she saw he’d hung back, and stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest.

“I'm so glad you kids like it.” Mrs. Miller let out a contented sigh. “No television and no phone. You two just relax and enjoy yourselves. The cabin comes with a gourmet breakfast in a basket, so check your front stoop after eight tomorrow morning. There's a coffee maker in the kitchenette and a fridge that the auction people stocked for you. Have a good evening.”

Before Lacey could respond, Mrs. Miller bustled past Jared toward the front door.

He remained in the doorway, watching. Lacey bent, lifting the edge of the hot tub cover. Steam escaped into the air. “It's already hot.”

“Sometimes it's more energy efficient to keep it heated all the time. You bring a suit?” he asked.

Lacey swished her hand in the water. The temperature felt perfect. “I didn't think I'd need one.”

“You wanna flip for it—bathtub or hot tub?”

Lacey smiled at his diplomatic solution. “I'll take the bathtub. All I have is a shower at home. A bubble bath sounds perfectly decadent to me.”

“Let me use the facilities, I'll grab a towel and be out of your way in a jiff.”

She wondered how many hours she could soak in a hot bath before she withered away. It seemed a perfect way to kill some of the long evening that awaited. Walking inside, she located her suitcase and with a groan, managed to heave it up on the bed. When she unzipped the main compartment, she discovered a bottle of champagne and an envelope.

“Kandy,” she said as she opened the envelope to read the note inside:

Don't worry, Lacey, we've got everything under control.

You concentrate on relaxing—hope the bubbly helps!

Love,

the Girls.

Lacey pulled out a bottle of champagne, then a basket of wonderfully fragrant soaps and lotions from her favorite bath shop at the mall. She brought them closer to her nose, breathing in the strawberry scent. A small bottle of bubble bath completed the gift pack.

“I'm done—it's all yours,” Jared called from the hall.

“Thanks—see you in a few hours.” She looked up to see Jared's head at the doorway.

“You're joking, right?”

“I plan to soak until it's not fun anymore. I'm just not sure how long that'll be.”

“Right. You need any help in here?” His gaze was on the champagne and the gift basket.

“The girls at the salon sent a few surprises in my suitcase.”

He grinned at her. “I like surprises. See ya.”

Lacey grinned back, then stared after him, wondering a little about what he’d said.

Turning her attention back to her suitcase, she located her makeup bag and bathroom paraphernalia.

“Okay, where are my pajamas?” She dug through her entire suitcase with no success. At the very bottom, she heard the rustle of paper.

What now?

She pulled out a tissue-wrapped bundle, quickly tearing into the thin paper. Inside was a long white nightgown and matching sheer, white robe. The silky material was whisper light and extraordinarily soft. It was a beautiful ensemble.