It Had to Be You (32 page)

Tucker snickered. “Yeah, right.”

“Tucker…you’ve never said, and you don’t have to, but—”

“But what’s the bad blood between Jake and me?” Tucker stared morosely out at the yard. The chuck wagon they sometimes used on camping expeditions lay near a tree. There were a series of benches lining their vegetable garden, which had begin to thrive with the early spring. “It’s all too old to even give it the time of day,” he finally said.

“So you can work with him, if it comes to that?”

“Hell, I’m living with him, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Not as sorry as I am, believe me. But as for the work…He won’t want to. It’s not his thing. He says he hates camping, hates the desert. Needless to say he hates it here.”

“Then why is he here?”

“Why don’t you ask him directly?” Jake asked from behind them. “And how do you know what my thing is? Neither of you have bothered to ask me.”

With her fork halfway to her mouth, Callie glanced at Tucker, who’d also stopped eating.

Jake let out an annoyed sound as he moved between them down the steps. “Christ, there’s some serious chips on some serious shoulders around here. How’s the head and ribs?” he asked Callie.

This wasn’t a polite question, it was a demand, by the man who’d seen her in her bra only an hour before. She reminded herself he’d seen her in far less. “They’re fine.”

“You find out what brainless idiot was messing around in the barn?”

“No.”

“Me either.” He still looked so serious, and somehow more intense than she’d ever seen before. Also the firefighter side of him, she guessed. In any case, it was startlingly, unexpectedly attractive, and she swallowed her last bite of breakfast with extreme difficulty. Then smiled weakly. “How about you? How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine.”

“Yes, but…” She trailed off at the closed look on his face. Men and their stupid pride. She supposed she was one to talk, when she herself had more than was good for her. “You’re not fully healed. I figured if the injury took you out of firefighting, it would take you out of ranching, too.”

He rolled his neck, then stretched his shoulders. And winced, gingerly putting his left hand to his right shoulder. “It might.”

Tucker let out an obnoxiously loud sigh, as if he didn’t believe Jake could really be hurting.

Jake glanced at him. “What’s your problem?”

“How do you know I have one?”

“Maybe because it sounds like your head gets a flat every time I so much as look at you.”

Callie had no siblings, though she’d always dreamed of a big, older brother to beat the crap out of anyone who bugged her. But in her dreams, she and this fantasy brother always got along, no bickering.

She had a feeling Jake and Tucker didn’t dream about the same kind of relationship.

“What is it?” Jake pressed Tucker. “What’s eating at you?”

Tucker stood up. “I already told Callie. There aren’t enough hours in the day to discuss it.” He stacked his plate on top of Callie’s empty one, then brushed past Jake.

“Hey, wait,” Callie called. “What’s problem number two? The bad one?”

Already ten feet away, Tucker swore, then turned back. “Unless you moved them, someone’s stolen all of the serum we were going to use tomorrow to inoculate the herd.”

“What?” Callie set the plates down beside her and stood up, managing not to grimace at the ache in her ribs. “They’re not in the barn refrigerator?”

“Nope.”

“But they can’t just have vanished…” Her words trailed off at Tucker’s grim nod.

“Maybe it was the same person who messed with Sierra,” Jake said, frowning. “Has anything like this happened before?”

“No,” Callie said. “Never.” They’d need to call the police and make a report. Damn it. “Bring Stone some coffee and tell him to suck it up. I don’t care how hung over he is, we’re going to need him.”

“Yeah.” Tucker stalked off.

Callie started to calculate how many hundreds of dollars they could be out if Tucker was right and the serum was gone, when Jake stirred, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

“You should cancel the incoming guests,” he said.

“No. They’re paying big bucks.”

“You’re not ready for guests, not with this shit going on.”

“We’re ready.”

“Look, if a bunch of businessmen want to play at being cowboy bad enough to come all the way out here to Nowhere, USA, then they’ll be willing to wait a week. We can use the time to start fixing stuff up. Cheap stuff though.” He scratched his jaw. “Really cheap. Like painting. The barns look like crap.”

“We’re booked next week, too.”

“So they’ll wait—”

“No, they won’t, Jake. If you want to make money—”

“You know I do.”

“Then the show goes on. This is our job, our life, and it means everything.
Everything,
” she said, knowing she was standing on her own personal soapbox, but the emotions of the day were showing and she couldn’t help it. “I don’t know if you can understand that, but—”

“Hey. Hey, slow down, I was just—”

“I know.” She shook her head. “I just thought that given how this place was left to you by your father, it’d mean something to you.”

“We’ve been over that,” he said tightly.

“Right. You didn’t like Richard. You don’t care about this place.”

“I care about how much it’s worth. Which is nothing if we don’t have guests in here. I care about keeping all of your jobs available to you, even after I’m no longer here. I care about a hell of a lot, Callie, so don’t tell me what I feel.”

“Fine.” Angry, frustrated, hurt—and not really understanding why—she moved down the stairs. She was so full of conflicting emotions it took her a moment to realize the decibel level of barking.

She followed the barking around the back of the house to the basement entrance. It wasn’t Shep barking, though he stood there.

Or sat anyway, because Shep was twelve and he never stood when he could sit, and never sat when he could lie down. Tongue hanging out, he happily panted at the mud-colored brown dog next to him, which Callie had never seen before.

She was a good-sized dog, too, despite being so malnourished. Still, it wasn’t her size that stopped Callie from going into the basement, but the bared teeth and menacing growl she let out between ear-splitting barks, now aimed right at Callie herself.

J
ake stood on the porch for a long moment after Callie walked away from him, staring blindly out into the yard. He heard a dog going crazy but it didn’t penetrate his other more pressing thought—that Callie wanted this place to mean something to him, wanted him to understand how much it meant to her, to all of them working here.

“But how can I?” he said to the morning air, to his father’s ghost, to no one. Maybe if Richard hadn’t been so ornery and stubborn, maybe if he’d been willing to meet Jake halfway, maybe, maybe, maybe.

It was far too late for maybes with the man dead and buried.

But why had Richard left him this godforsaken ranch in the first place? It was nothing more than a money pit for him. Maybe it’d been a cruel reminder that Jake had never been the son he wanted. Maybe it’d been a joke. Or, maybe it’d simply been a way to reach the son he’d never tried all that hard to reach in life. And how pathetic was it that Jake wished for the latter.

He didn’t belong here in the land of Oz, where these people all had each other and looked at him like he was an alien. That had been made painfully clear to him when he’d questioned everyone about Sierra. They’d all stuck together with genuine care and affection, Eddie covering for his brother’s hangover, Stone covering for Tucker’s temper, and Tucker covering for Eddie being alone in the barn.

And each of them had vouched for Amy as well, a young woman they knew even less than they did Jake. He didn’t have to wonder if any of them would have done the same for him. They wouldn’t have.

And damn if he didn’t feel lonely as hell.

He also felt stupid for letting it all get to him. He should have left this morning. He still could, and he pulled out his cell phone to call Joe to tell him he was coming back as soon as he could get on a plane.

But Joe had left him two text messages: “Playgirl
called again, offered a firefighter calendar. Mr. July…can I have your autograph?
”

And then the second:
“Just heard from the chief…brace yourself for a nasty lawsuit.”

He also had a message from his attorney. Just an ominous:
Call me today.

Rubbing his aching shoulder, Jake sighed. He would have to get up-to-date on the proceedings, and also pay for the nuisance. With what, he had no idea.

In any case, going home didn’t seem like a viable option, not yet.

The wild barking finally penetrated his thoughts, and shrugging off his own problems, he followed the noise around the back of the house. Callie stood in front of the basement entrance, facing off with a mangy old mutt who looked as if she hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Hey, there,” she murmured to the dog, reaching out her hand.

Teeth bared, the mutt growled, and Callie hastily pulled back.

Jake moved in and put himself in front of her. “You want to lose a few fingers to go with those bumps and bruises? Back up.”

“You never give up with the hero thing, do you?”

He could have argued that point. He sure as hell didn’t feel like a hero out here in the middle of nowhere, being needed by exactly no one. “Just move.” Hunkering down to the dog’s eye level, he smiled. “Whatcha doing, pretty lady?”

Callie let out a rough laugh. “That voice might work on the females of
my
race, but a dog isn’t going to”—she broke off with a frown when the dog relaxed her stance enough to sit—“fall for it.”

“So whatcha doing all the way out here in the middle of nowhere? You lost? Poor thing, you look hungry.” He held up his hand for her to sniff.

“What do you think she’s all up in arms about?” Callie tried to step beyond the dog to see past the open basement door, but the dog growled again.

Jake put his left hand out in front of Callie to hold her back from getting bitten, and ignored her irritated huff of breath. “You sure look like you’ve had a rough time of it.” At the sound of his voice, the dog stopped growling again. “Maybe if we fed you, you’d be happier. What do you think?”

The dog let out a long whine.

The sound was oddly heartbreaking. Jake tried to decide what could be disturbing her, but couldn’t see into the dark basement. “So what are you guarding?”

“We don’t use that space for much,” Callie said. “She could have cornered anything in there.”

Jake continued to hold out his hand to the dog, and took it as a good sign when she didn’t resume her growling. He let her sniff him again, then stroked her down her thin, scruffy back.

Her tail let out one weak wag. Permission granted, Jake moved around her and to the door, but when Callie tried to follow him, the dog once again bared her teeth.

“Wait here,” Jake said.

“But—”

Ignoring her, he pulled the door the rest of the way open, and poked his head inside. There was a landing there, and then a set of stairs that went down about five feet, then turned ninety degrees and went down another five feet. It wasn’t the stairs that drew his attention, but the second landing.

In the far dusty corner he found what the poor dog was trying so desperately to protect, and even as he looked, she pressed her cold nose under his arm to see as well, making him see double when she jarred his shoulder.

“Jake?”

Hearing Callie’s voice behind them, the dog growled low in her throat.

“Hang on,” he called back. “She’s got—”

“Puppies,” Callie guessed, sounding resigned.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark and he started counting the softly mewling puppies, the momma again nudged his arm with her wet nose, sending shots of fire down his bicep all the way to his fingers. “Yeah, I see your babies.” With his left hand, he patted her as they looked them over. “Five?”

The dog walked down the steps to the landing and whined softly, plaintively. Jake moved in, then peered down the crack between the landing and the wall. He heard the rustling in the dark. Reaching down there was a whole new kind of pain, and he gritted his teeth as he paused to take a deep breath. “One’s slipped down between the landing and the wall. I’ll get it.” It cost him. By the time he set the puppy in the midst of its siblings and next to the mother who finally allowed herself to relax now that her last baby was back, Jake was a sweaty, shaky mess. His shoulder was leaping with each heartbeat, pulsing with pain, and he felt light-headed. The weakness was humiliating.

“Jake?”

“I think you can come in now. She’s calmer.” He stayed where he was, on his knees in front of the dog and her puppies, waiting for his world to stop spinning.

Callie had run somewhere for a flashlight. When she scooted in behind him, with Shep pushing in as well, she also dropped to her knees to take a look. “Oh, Shep.” She sighed and put an arm around him. “They’re adorable though, aren’t they?”

Jake would have laughed if he could. Adorable isn’t what he’d call the mangy-looking things, but then any amusement backed up in his throat because Callie, so close he could feel her soft breath on his ear, put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re shaking.” Her fingers lightly danced over the incision beneath his shirt, much like the motion he’d dreamed her doing, only this wasn’t a dream. “Torn rotator cuff?”

“Among other things.”

“Such as?”

He wanted to be big and strong. He wanted to not feel any weaknesses, but a man could only be so tough with a woman looking at him like she was. “Actually, it was a complete shoulder reconstruction.”

“Oh, Jake.”

Her expression made him want to touch her, cup her face, stroke his fingers over her jaw and sink into her hair. A shock, because it wasn’t just the usual surge of lust. Here was an opportunity he hadn’t even known he wanted—to talk to her, to have her know him, to convince her he wasn’t a jerk, because suddenly it mattered what she thought of him. Suddenly he wanted her to be as warm and sweet to him as she was to everyone else.

Too bad he couldn’t move without whimpering.

“Probably climbing around after dogs and puppies is a bad idea,” she said, her hand still on him.

“Probably, but you shouldn’t be doing this, either.”

“I’m fine.”

“Headache?”

“Only a little.” She glanced at the puppies now being fed by their mother, who still watched her and Jake carefully. “Looks like we got ourselves a new dog.”

So accepting. So willing to gather whoever and whatever to the Blue Flame.

Had his father been like that? It surprised him to feel sad that he didn’t know. “And six puppies.”

She sighed. “And six puppies. You were good with her; she didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Animals like me.”

“Women do, too.”

He slanted her a glance. “Most, but not all, I’m learning.”

She mused over that for a long moment. Dropped her hand from him. “Sometimes I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Then don’t say anything.” With a great effort, he leaned in so their mouths were a mere fraction of an inch apart. He put his left hand to the curve of her jaw. “Let’s try this instead.” And even knowing he was crazy for wanting this, he put his mouth on hers.

Her hand slid up between them, until her palm settled against his chest. To push him away? Pull him closer? She did neither but let her lips cling to his for a long moment before pulling back.

“What was that?” she whispered.

“Just one little kiss.” He tunneled his fingers up into the wild silk of her hair, glad it was loose, and leaned in again, needing one more taste.

She held him back. “You said
one
kiss.”

Right, but he’d also said little. It’d been neither. He wanted more but he couldn’t move his other arm worth a damn. With his good hand, he slid his fingers down the length of her hair to the small of her back, nudging her forward into his body.

Her hand fisted in his shirt, gripping him tight, getting a few chest hairs in the mix. He didn’t care if she pulled them all out one by one as long as she stayed with her body up against his for another moment.

“Jake…” She rocked against him, just a tiny little movement of her hips, which was all the encouragement he needed to lower his head and kiss her again.

She moaned softly, then hooked an arm around his neck, and just like that, it was that long ago night all over again; so hot, so sweet and wet, sending an unquenchable hunger skittering down his spine to pool in his groin. He forgot the puppies, his shoulder, his father, everything but the taste and feel of the surprisingly sensual woman in his arms. Her breasts pressed into his chest, and he cupped the sweet curve of her ass in his hand. A sense of déjà vu filled him at that. They’d done this before, and as it had then, the pleasure of her blew him away. Like then, he wanted a hell of a lot more than a kiss, a hell of a lot more than he could get from her while kneeling on the dirty ground surrounded by puppies and dust.

And still she didn’t pull away. Neither did he. Needing more, his hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt, seeking warm, sleek, soft skin. She was slim but not fragile, never fragile. He’d seen her toss a heavy saddle, lift a pig, and face down a panicky horse. He knew exactly how strong she was. And he knew something else. He wanted her, so damn much.

It made no sense. Nothing about this made sense. He didn’t have a place in his heart for the Blue Flame or the woman who ran it, and yet the longer he kissed her, the more he wanted. He kissed her long and deep. He kissed her until he was dizzy with it, until she was making little sounds in the back of her throat that told him she was as far gone as he was. He was fantasizing about how much further he could take them both when she pulled back. Not out of his arms, just away enough that their lips disconnected with a sucking sound that didn’t help any. God, her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Was that just a kiss, too?”

It took him a long moment to get his brain in gear. Slowly he pulled his hand back, lingering for a few seconds to stroke her warm skin one more time.

“I need to get to the barn.” She rose to her feet. Wobbled. She put a hand to her head as if that would help her think. “Tucker’ll be waiting. I’ll figure out what to do with these puppies later.”

“Callie.” He rose, too, and felt just as wobbly. When she would have moved away, he put a hand on her wrist. “You’re not going to be able to blame that on the whiskey.”

Her lips were still wet, and he thought of a thousand things he’d like her to do with those wet lips.

“I never blamed it on the whiskey,” she said.

“What did you blame it on?”

“Having a misguided sense of what’s right for me.”

“So you’re not denying there’s something almost chemically addictive between us.”

“Like I said, I have a misguided sense of what’s right for me.” She stepped away, subject apparently closed. “Tucker might enjoy your company today.”

“So apparently we’re done talking about us.”

“Yes.”

He actually managed to laugh. Now he remembered why he didn’t want a woman in his life. They were unreliable, unpredictable, and insane. He should thank her for reminding him. “How do you figure Tucker might enjoy my company?”

“I know he puts up a tough front, but I think it’s been hard for him having no family.”

“He doesn’t consider me his family anymore.”

“Why not?”

From the day Jake and his mother had parted ways, Tucker had stopped loving Jake. It hadn’t helped that his mother had done her best to keep them separated, and with her traveling, she’d succeeded. A habit that had stuck, even when Tucker had gotten older.

Until he’d been in trouble with the law and had needed Jake. “You’d have to ask him.”

“But you consider him
your
family, right?”

“I got him this job, didn’t I?”

She let out a sound of annoyance, and he frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re as stubborn as he is.”

His mind was still addled by the blood loss to his groin. “Look, I’m glad he took this job. I’m glad he’s helpful to you, and having a good time while he’s at it. It’s kept him off the streets and out of more trouble. I don’t know what else I can do. That’s not stubbornness, that’s just the way it is.”

“You could take more interest.”