Kiss Me (Fool's Gold series) (9 page)

“I know it’s a big responsibility,” she said when she neither transformed into a supermodel nor thought of anything brilliant to say. “But you seem to have everything figured out. I’m sure it will be fine.”

He sighed. “Want to guarantee that in writing?”

“Would it help if I did?”

“No.” He stared up at the sky. “I couldn’t get them to leave.”

“Yes, well, you tried.”

He grunted. She guessed that trying and failing didn’t count for much in his world. Yet another strike against her. She screwed up all the time.

“At least everyone seems really nice,” she said.

He turned so he stared at the house. His face was in the light now, and she could see the humor crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Even Andrea?”

She thought about the other woman’s forceful personality. “Well, she’s not easily likable, but I’m sure that once we get to know her, she’ll be lovely.”

He stared at her. “You’re a ‘glass half full’ kind of person, aren’t you?”

“I try to be.” She leaned against the railing as well, mimicking his pose by putting her elbows on the wood and gazing upward.

“I think it’s important to have a positive attitude in life,” she said. “To look for the opportunities.”

“You’re too busy worrying about everyone’s feelings to see an opportunity coming a mile away.” His gaze narrowed. “How’d you and Maya get to be friends?”

Phoebe blinked at him. He’d barely known her forty-eight hours, and in that time, they’d spent less than an hour or two talking. Yet he’d managed to sum up her character in a single sentence. Even more amazing...he’d been right. How did he do that?

She
was
too busy helping people to advance her career. She often made choices based on her heart rather than her desire to get ahead. From what she’d figured out, opportunities went to the ruthless, and she could never seem to act in a way that put her best interests first. Not if it meant stepping on someone else.

She shook her head, then returned her attention to Zane. “What was the question?”

“How’d you and Maya become friends? You’re nothing alike.”

“You mean she’s a successful TV producer on the fast track and I’m not?”

He shrugged. “I was thinking more in terms of personality.”

“That, too.” She rubbed her right foot against her left calf and tried to ignore the chill seeping through her. What were a few shivers when compared with a midnight conversation with her own private fantasy?

“We met in college, when we were freshmen. Maya was talking with a bunch of people. You know how she is. Always the center of attention.”

She paused, but Zane didn’t speak. So she continued.

“She had this big cup of coffee, which she accidentally spilled all over me. She insisted on taking me back to her place so I could get cleaned up. We started talking, and by the end of the morning, we were friends.”

Phoebe didn’t mention how lonely she’d been at college. While the foster homes hadn’t been the most idyllic setting, after the death of her parents, they’d been all she’d known. At eighteen, she’d had to leave, and it was like losing her family all over again.

“I didn’t have anyone,” Phoebe said. “Maya took me in and made me feel a part of things. She’s been a good friend.”

“I never thanked you for your help today,” he said. “I figured Chase would do all the talking when those folks started arriving. Most of the time I can’t pay him enough to shut up. But he didn’t say a word.”

“Maybe he was overwhelmed by the enormity of what he’s done.”

One dark eyebrow lifted slightly. “I wouldn’t bet on that if I were you.”

“You don’t think he’s remorseful?”

“Not yet, but he’s going to be.” Zane paused, then shook his head. “He’s not the only one who didn’t think things through. I’m just as guilty. Making him go on the cattle drive he’d created seemed like a good way to teach him a lesson, but now that everyone is here and we’re heading out in the morning...”

“It’s not what you thought,” she said, finishing his sentence.

Zane looked at her. She had the sudden thought that maybe she wasn’t supposed to participate at that level. She was about to apologize when he nodded.

“That’s right.”

She shivered again, but this time the involuntary reaction had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the tingles skittering through her. What was it about this man that got to her? Standing here in the night, freezing her butt off, probably looking like cat gack, she couldn’t help thinking there was nowhere else she wanted to be and no one else she wanted to be with.

“I need to have my head examined,” she murmured before she could stop herself.

“Why?”

She laughed. “Just on general principal. I’m from Los Angeles. We’re all into that sort of thing.”

* * *

T
HE
SOUND
OF
Phoebe’s laughter drifted through the night. Funny how it sort of got inside Zane and made parts of him all tight. And not just his crotch, although that was plenty hard right now. There was also a pressure in his chest, and his gut.

“Some lady called and wanted to know if we had hot stone massage,” he said.

Phoebe looked at him and grinned. “What did you tell her?”

“That she was coming to the wrong place. As Frank asked just yesterday, who gets a massage with a rock?”

“They’re very popular. I think it has something to do with the heat. It relaxes the muscles.”

“An LA thing.”

“Most of the best things are.”

“Oh, you’re one of those, are you? A fan of La-La Land.”

She wrinkled her nose. “We don’t call it that anymore. You can make fun all you want, but until you’ve lived there, you’ll never understand the appeal.”

“Living there wouldn’t help.”

She laughed again, which was what he wanted. He liked how the sound cut through him and made him want her more. He felt like one of his bulls, ready to tear through a fence to get at the female of his choice. He liked that he wanted her, even though the wanting was different from any he’d experienced before. Even though it felt dangerous.

What was there about this woman that tapped into such a deep-rooted need? Was it the way she smiled, with an almost innocence? The shape of her face, the scent of her? Was it the sway of her dark hair against her cheekbones as she moved her head? Was it the delight she took in her world? A delight that made him feel as old as dirt?

Even standing here on the porch, he wanted her. His fingers curled into his palms, when what he really wanted to do was touch her cheek. He wanted to trace her profile, feel the silk of her hair, then lower his head and kiss her.

It wouldn’t stop there. One kiss, then another, then his hands would be all over her, tearing at clothes, baring her body, and then he would push her up against the wall of the house and—

He shut down that part of his mind, mentally turning his back on the erotic image. He became aware of the silence, of the night, of the sound of her breathing. Awareness sparked between them. He ignored that, too.

“It’s late,” he told her. “We’ve got an early start.”

She nodded once, then turned toward the house. Before she went inside, though, she looked at him.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

The question stunned him. No one ever bothered to ask. They assumed. He was Zane Nicholson—a man in charge.
The
man in charge.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her.

Phoebe offered one of her soft smiles, then stepped into the house. “See you in the morning.”

“’Night.”

He watched her go and knew he would be seeing her again the second he closed his eyes.

* * *

L
UCY
TURNED
ONTO
her stomach and shoved the fluffy pillow under her head. It was big—nearly as big as herself. She liked the way it was both squishy and firm. She liked the bed and the sheets and pretty much everything about the room. She and Tommy even had their own bathroom.

“Did you smell the towels?” she asked.

Her brother turned and stared at her. “No.” His expression said he didn’t know why he would want to.

“I did. They smell good. Like flowers, but not ’xactly. Not like the towels there.”

The “there” in question was Mrs. Fortier’s house, but Tommy would know that. There, towels and sheets smelled funny. Not bad like the time a sick cat had crawled under the porch and died, but sort of thick and goopy. Like something old had been wrapped in them for a long time. Plus the towels and sheets weren’t nearly this soft. Lucy rubbed her face against her pillow again. It almost tickled her skin.

“I like this house,” Tommy said. “It’s really big, but nice.”

“Yeah.” She flopped onto her back and stared up at the white ceiling. It was late, and they should be asleep, but everything was too strange.

Tommy turned on his side to face her. Their beds were sort of close together, but not too close. Lucy liked that.

“Zane’s real big,” her brother said.

“Scary.”

Tommy tried to deny it, then nodded quickly, as if he didn’t want to get caught agreeing with her.

“I like Chase,” Lucy said. “He smiles a lot.”

“C.J. said they’re brothers.”

Lucy didn’t want to think about C.J. or what she said about anything. C.J. made her feel all cold and shivery every time she looked at her and Tommy. Thad was different. He seemed to like them, but C.J....she didn’t want them there.

Lucy almost told her brother that, but she knew he wouldn’t believe her. He never believed anything she said about the adults they met. He always said they were nice and kind and looking for kids just like them. Lucy knew better.

“Zane and Chase kinda look like brothers,” she said instead, “but Zane is a lot older. I wonder why.”

“They’re still family,” Tommy said.

Lucy glared at her brother. He had a really stupid look on his face, like he was thinking about them being part of a family.

“Forget it,” she said. “We’re never going to find anyone who wants to adopt us.”

“We might.”

“No.”

She hated saying it, hated how it made her feel, but she knew one of them had to see the truth. Wanting and wishing were scary enough, but believing...that was the worst. Believing made her insides hurt.

She blinked really fast so Tommy couldn’t tell that she suddenly wanted to cry.

“Dinner was good,” she said to distract him. “Maybe we’ll go the whole week without being sent to bed hungry.”

“You think?”

“Maybe.”

Tommy pulled up his covers. “What did you think of C.J. and Thad?”

“She hates us.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She looks at us the same way Mrs. Fortier does. Like we did something bad when we didn’t.”

“But Thad—”

“No.” She turned away from her brother. “It doesn’t matter. So what if he’s nice and likes us? Boys might be more special than girls, but in families, you know who decides. She does. Not him. And she doesn’t like us at all.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

P
HOEBE
SET
HER
Stetson on her head, then turned to gaze at herself in the mirror.

Jeans, boots, hat. All she needed was a six-shooter, and she could pass for Jesse James...well, almost.

A week ago if someone had told her she would be heading out on a real, live cattle drive she would have laughed in disbelief. But now that she was actually here, she could barely keep from dancing from foot to foot. So far everything about the ranch was too cool for words—and that was excluding the Zane factor.

She collected the saddlebags and small duffel that she’d packed the night before and walked out of the bedroom. Maya had gone downstairs a few minutes before, grousing about the limited amount of gear she was allowed to bring.

Phoebe would have liked a few more of her possessions along as well, but she could manage without for a few days. She would just have to—

She stepped out into the clear morning and instantly came to a stop. Everyone had collected in front of the house. Eddie and Gladys were over by the corral, taking video of the cowboys at work. The men seemed to be enjoying the attention, even showing off a little. C.J., Thad and the kids were clustered together but not talking. Maya smiled up at a handsome, older cowboy, but none of that mattered to Phoebe.

Without warning, without knowing why, what it meant or how to stop it if she wanted to, she found her gaze settling right on Zane. As if she’d known where he would be at that exact instant. As if he had some magical power to draw her attention only to him. As if he were magnetic north to her female compass.

She paused, willing him to look up and see her, but he remained in an intense conversation with one of the cowboys. Oh, well. Maybe next time.

Eddie and Gladys called out to one of the cowboys who was riding his horse out of the corral. He grinned at whatever they said and encouraged his horse to rear up on its hind legs. The two old women applauded.

Chase stood next to Maya. They looked good together, Phoebe thought. Both tall, both attractive. His dark good looks contrasted with her fair skin and blond hair. Chase said something Phoebe couldn’t hear, and Maya laughed. She touched his arm in a gesture that was both affectionate and comfortable. As if they’d always been family.

An uncomfortable twinge caught Phoebe by surprise. It wasn’t that she didn’t want her friend to have family, it was just that Phoebe couldn’t help wanting the same thing for herself. She turned to see if Zane had noticed the exchange and was stunned by the starkness of his unguarded expression. For a single beat of time, she saw into his very soul. The loneliness there, the need to fit in and be a part of something more than himself blindsided her. He understood, she told herself in amazement. He wanted it, too. She thought about what he’d endured with his family and wasn’t surprised.

But then he blinked, and the emotions disappeared as if they had never been.

Had she imagined it all? Had she projected her own wants and desires onto him because she found him sexually intoxicating, and she wanted them to have something significant in common?

“It’s way too early to be thinking such deep thoughts,” she murmured to herself.

The sound of hoofbeats caught her attention. She turned and saw two mules pulling a large covered wagon. Phoebe wanted to rub her eyes to make sure she hadn’t imagined the sight, but there they were. Like something out of the History channel. A real, honest-to-goodness covered wagon and mules.

The old man driving the contraption fit the part perfectly. He wore a faded red shirt and ratty jeans. An old battered cowboy hat had been pulled low over his grizzled features. One of his cheeks stuck out way more than the other. Phoebe’s feelings of romance about the Old West quickly turned into a horrified gag when he turned and spit tobacco on the ground.

“Here comes another cowboy,” Gladys said.

“I don’t want him. He’s old,” Eddie replied. “You can have that one.”

“I don’t want him!”

Hiding a smile, Phoebe quickly turned her attention to the mules, who were so darned cute with their perky ears. She noticed two more being pulled behind the wagon. This pair was laden with several duffels and cloth sacks tied together. With their big eyes and sweet faces, they looked charming.

“All they need are straw hats with little bows or a crown of flowers,” she said.

Unfortunately Zane walked by just then, and the look he shot her told her that he had not only heard her, but he thought she was an idiot. She wanted to hurry after him and explain that thinking the mules would look cute in hats wasn’t the same thing as actually wanting them in hats, but she didn’t. In his mind, thinking it was probably as bad as buying the hats.

“This is Cookie,” Zane said to the group. “As you may have guessed from his name, he’s in charge of feeding us all while we’re gone. You had a sample of his cooking last night.”

Thad patted his belly. “Then I think we’re all going to weigh at lot more at the end of this week than at the beginning. Hope the horses don’t mind.”

“Oh, we’ll ride them pounds off you,” Cookie said with a grin. Then his good humor faded. “Well, don’t just stand there staring,” he yelled. “Hand over your gear. We haven’t got all day. Snap to.”

Maya bent down and picked up her duffel. Phoebe followed her.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” Cookie said to Eddie as Chase hoisted her bag into the wagon. “You look good enough to eat.”

“You better not try,” Eddie replied.

Maya grinned. “Have you missed me, Cookie?”

He winked at her. “Like you’d give an old coot like me the time of day.”

Maya put her hand on her hip and gave an exaggerated bump and grind. “Cookie, for your biscuits I’d do just about anything.”

The old man cackled. Phoebe handed him her duffel. Cookie looked her over, then winked. She gave him a smile and tried not to think about the plug of tobacco stuck in his cheek.

Andrea was next. She handed up her bag but didn’t move on. Instead she narrowed her gaze. “You are careful when you cook, aren’t you? I would hate to think you’d contaminate our food with your filthy habit.”

Cookie’s mouth got all pinched and thin. “You doing the cooking, or am I?”

“I suppose you are.”

He nodded. “Just so we’re both clear on that.”

Andrea turned away. She muttered something to Martin, who patted her arm. Chase carried Gladys’s duffel to the wagon.

Cookie looked Gladys over. “Nice. Just give a holler if you ever get lonely. I can be real good company.”

Andrea sniffed. “How disgusting. Is he going to come on to all the women? Can’t he be controlled?”

Chase passed by Phoebe and leaned close. “You’ll notice Cookie didn’t say a word to the vegetable princess there.”

Phoebe had to turn away to hide her grin.

When all the gear was loaded, Zane had them line up. He walked in front of them, staring at each of them in turn, then calling out a name. When he paused in front of Phoebe, she felt the heat of his gaze all the way to the insides of her bones. Although he only stared at her for a second, it was enough to get her heart up into the serious-cardio-workout range. When he moved to Maya, her body returned to normal. She felt like one of those special flowering plants that only blooms in full sunlight. When Zane wasn’t around, she withered.

As Zane finished calling out names, several cowboys appeared leading horses. There was a brass nameplate on each bridle, corresponding with what he’d called out. Phoebe looked for a horse named Rocky.

When he appeared, he was a brunette with legs that turned dark on the bottom. His mane and tail were black, as well.

Phoebe offered Rocky a tentative smile. He did not respond.

“Listen up,” Zane said. “Who here has been on a horse before?”

Eddie and Gladys raised their hands. Martin’s went up, too. Zane asked about their riding experience.

“Shane Stryker gave us lessons last summer, and then we rode as elder warriors in the Maá-zib parade last year,” Eddie said. “We offered to go topless, to be real authentic, but Mayor Marsha wouldn’t let us.”

“Since then, we go out to the Castle Ranch about once a month to keep our muscles limber,” Gladys added.

Martin said he’d had lessons as a kid.

Zane explained the basics of riding a horse. While the guests weren’t working cowboys, on the trail they would be expected to help with the care of their horses. That meant making sure the animal had plenty of water, taking off the saddles in the evening and basic equine grooming. Using his horse, a rust-colored gelding, he demonstrated how to mount.

Phoebe looked from Zane’s horse to hers. They seemed to be about the same size, at least in height. Rocky was a bit on the lean side with long legs.

Speaking of legs—she glanced from hers to Zane’s. There was a difference of several inches in length, which meant there was no way she would be able to put one foot into the stirrup and swing her way up to the saddle the way he had. She needed a chair or bench or stool or something.

Right as she realized the problem, Zane turned toward her. Her heart sprouted wings and did a quick turn around her chest, but before he reached her, Chase appeared at her side.

“Ready?” he asked.

She shifted her attention to Zane, but he’d already moved over to help Gladys. She swallowed her disappointment and smiled at the young man.

“Is there a stepping stool?” she asked.

“Sure.” He laced his fingers together and held them a little above knee high.

Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Chase winked. “Not possible, even if you are a goddess.”

“Oh, right. What is it with you cowboy types? You and Cookie should get together and write a book of pickup lines.”

“We’re talkin’ about it.” He touched the side of her leg with his finger. “Come on, Phoebe. Show everyone how it’s done. Put your left foot on my hands. We’ll count to three, and you’ll spring on up to the saddle.”

She wasn’t too confident about the whole “springing” part. Rocky’s saddle looked really high up. There was also the worry of springing too far and finding herself sliding off the other side, which wasn’t how she wanted to start her morning.

But if she planned to go on the cattle drive, she had to get her butt onto a horse...literally. Sucking in a breath for courage, she grabbed the front of the saddle with both hands, placed her booted foot onto the man-made step Chase offered, then counted to three.

As she pushed off the ground with her right foot, Chase lifted her high into the air. She swung her leg over in an almost graceful move and found herself plopping down on a very hard, very small saddle.

Until that moment, Phoebe had always thought Western-style saddles were huge. But now that she was in one—and about forty feet from the ground—she felt as if she were perched on something the size of a saucer. Rocky shifted, which made her grab for the saddle horn.

“Do I have to be up this high?” she asked.

Chase chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”

She had her doubts.

Chase fiddled with some buckles on the saddle and adjusted the stirrup so that she could rest her foot in it. As he worked, he put a hand on her calf.

“The best part,” he said with a wink.

Of course Zane was close enough to hear, and he scowled at his brother. “Keep your mind on your work.”

Chase responded by rolling his eyes.

Eddie and Gladys got on their horses with an ease Phoebe envied. Kind of embarrassing, being shown up by two septuagenarian cowgirls. Maya was also at home several stories in the air. After Chase adjusted Maya’s stirrups, she rode over to Phoebe and reined in her horse.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

Phoebe shrugged. “I’m trying not to look at the ground.”

Maya laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Remember, the trick is to move with your horse. Try to relax into his stride so you’re not bouncing. If you don’t, you’ll be sore for days.”

Phoebe had a feeling she was going to be sore for the rest of her life, but she was determined to tough it out. She hadn’t been on a vacation in years, and with her future looking doubtful, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be on one again for a long time. So she’d better enjoy this one.

The two children were given scaled-down versions of real horses. They both looked as apprehensive as Phoebe felt. C.J. watched as Chase checked their stirrups.

“Are you two all right?” she asked. “We can still change our minds about this.”

The question was reasonable enough, but Phoebe couldn’t shake the feeling that C.J. wanted the children to say they didn’t want to go, which made her feel badly. Lucy and Tommy looked at each other and grinned.

“We’re going,” the little girl said.

“Listen up,” Zane said. He eased into his saddle as if he’d been born to it.

Well, duh, Phoebe thought with a smile. He had.

“We’re heading out,” he continued. “We’re going to take things slow, letting the cattle set the pace. You’ll each be assigned a place alongside the herd. Don’t try to direct your horse, because he has a better idea of where we’re going than you do. If you get into trouble, give a shout.”