Stud for Hire (18 page)

“He thought you might need . . . a chaperone.”

Logan growled.

“Yeah,” Brandon chimed in. “He also said she was hot.”

Something red flashed through Logan's vision. “He said what?”

“That. She. Was. Hot.” Brandon enunciated as though Logan was too slow to understand. Oh, he understood. He understood just fine.

“She is,” Ben felt the need to mention. “She is hot.”

And Logan felt the need to flatten his face. But he didn't. Not yet, anyway.

“Keep your distance,” he muttered. “She's here to paint a mural.”

“Is she?” Goddamn Ben and that arched brow.

“She is.”

“And Rafe mentioned we're putting her up in one of the bungalows.”

“Yeah.” It made sense. More sense than her trying to drive in from Snake Gully every day. Besides . . . he wanted her close.

Brandon chuckled. “And which bungalow are we putting her in, exactly?” he asked. The bastard. “The empty one . . . or yours?”

The question scuttled his thoughts. Naturally, she would be in the empty bungalow. This whole exercise was about her discovering what
she
wanted.

But he would be right next door.

He wouldn't complain, not one iota, if she decided to come over and visit one night. All night. Maybe every night.

He frowned at his brothers, both of whom were chortling like hyenas.

“Rafe was right.” Ben snorted. “He's got it and he's got it bad.”

Brandon grinned. “Yeah,” he said, with an evil look in Logan's direction. “This is going to be fun.”

But it wasn't. It wasn't going to be fun.

Not with them around.

With them around, it wasn't going to be fun at all.

Hanna took her time exploring the restaurant. Though it was barren and still rough in spots, she could visualize it the way it would be when it was finished. Images of what she could do here or there filled her mind, as photos of the bare walls filled her camera.

Despite her reluctance earlier, when she'd been talking to Rafe, she was flooded with confidence that this project was not too large for her. In fact, it might be the size of which she'd always dreamed. Grandiose.

She tried to ignore the big, looming men behind her, chatting amongst themselves while she worked. One was more difficult to ignore than the others.

They'd only just begun and she'd already learned so much about him. He was an architect. He had a ranch and three brothers and he'd left Snake Gully after getting into a fight.

She glanced back at him. He didn't seem like a man who leapt into fights at the drop of a hat. But as he'd said earlier, they weren't the same people as they'd been in high school. She certainly wasn't.

Still and all, most of this discovery would probably be hers. He seemed to have many secrets while she . . . well, she didn't have any. But she didn't mind. The prospect of seeing him every once in a while, while she worked on this project for the next couple months or so, intrigued her. She wondered idly how far away his ranch was.

Ben—or was it Brandon?—sidled up beside her. “This is where the bar is going to go,” he said pointing to a sprawling room to the side of the main dining room.

She smiled up at him, though she'd already gathered as much. “And that?” She pointed to an aluminum wall, something that looked a bit like a garage door.

“That leads to the garden.”

“The garden?” She bit back a smile. Logan had mentioned the garden, but Hanna couldn't resist the urge to tease. “I didn't notice a garden. Just scrub. And gravel.”

Ben-slash-Brandon waggled a finger at her. “It will be there, trust me. Our mother is in charge of that.” She liked the way his eyes warmed as he spoke of his mother. “She has a thing for purple. She loved your painting too, by the way. She's the one who suggested we feature the purple one here and do the mural and everything.”

“Ah. Looks like I owe her a debt of thanks.”

He snorted. “Thanks, schmanks. She just wanted an excuse to plant a purple garden.”

“A purple garden?”

“The theme is going to flow outside.” This from Logan who made it a point to step between Hanna and his brother. It was a little awkward, because Ben-slash-Brandon didn't seem inclined to move out of the way. There was a bit of a tussle. She tried not grin. “From here . . .” he made a swoop with his hand. “To there. Like a river—”

“A river of purple,” one of the twins put in.

“Did I mention she really likes purple?” the other asked.

“I was thinking about gradients . . .” Logan caught her eye. “What do you think?”

Oh yes. She could see it. “From dark to light.”

“Exactly.” Logan nodded. “Leading the eye toward the patio.” Their gazes tangled. For a moment, they shared a vision of the finished product. It would be marvelous. Because they'd do it together.

“Shall we check out your digs?” The twin in red stepped between them and clapped them both on the back—with far too much force. Hanna was nearly propelled into Logan's arms. She wouldn't have minded. As it was, he steadied her and shot a glare at his brother.

“Easy.”

The twin—whatever his name was—seemed unrepentant. “Shall we?”

“What . . . digs?” she asked, a strange unease curling up her spine. It probably had to do with the mischief in their eyes.

“Ooh.” One twin glanced at the other. “She doesn't know about the digs?” And then, to Logan, “You didn't tell her about the digs?” For some reason, they both laughed.

Hanna was starting to understand Logan's warning. These two were playful, impish . . . and trouble. And, perhaps, as he said, a pain in the ass.

Logan frowned. “Didn't Rafe explain that we'd be putting you up for the duration of the project? You can't be expected to drive back and forth to Snake Gully every day.”

Hanna nodded. Yes. She had seen that in the contract but . . . “I assumed it was a hotel or something.”

“Or something.” One of the twins snickered.

The other snapped his fingers several times in succession. “Wait. Did you say you were from Snake Gully?”

She hadn't, Logan had mentioned it. But Hanna nodded.

For some reason, their gazes both whipped around; they stared at Logan until his cheeks went pink. She could tell a question was burning on their lips, but they didn't ask. And whatever this tidbit had revealed to them, it had a strange effect. They became curiously subdued.

Logan ignored them both. He waved her toward the door. “The property came with two bungalows, on the other side of the road. We've been using them during the construction, for offices and lodgings. Now that most of the work is done, there's an empty one. We thought you could stay there. Would you like to check it out?”

The prospect of staying here, so close to the project, excited her. She could work all night if she so desired, and then simply cross the road and drop into bed. “Yes, please.”

When they stepped out into the bright sunshine from the shadowed structure, it was a shock to the system. It was just after noon and the sun was high in the sky. They crossed the parking lot and headed for the bungalows.

“Busy road,” Logan said as they waited for traffic to pass.

“I see that.”

The bungalow was small, compared to the home she'd lived in her entire life, but cozy. It had two bedrooms and a full bath as well as a kitchen, dining, and living area and was decorated with functional furniture. “We have cable and Wi-Fi,” Logan said.

“Running water,” one of the twins put in. The one in red.

Hanna turned to him. “What was your name again?” she asked.

He clutched a hand to his chest. “God, woman,” he wailed. “Break my heart, why don't you?”

Logan laughed. “That's Ben,” he said. “But trust me, they're pretty much interchangeable.”

Ben's response was a profanity that made Hanna blush, but Logan laughed that off too.

She wandered to the fridge and opened it. It was clean, but empty. “We'll have that stocked,” Logan said. “The stove works fine too.”

She peeped into the bathroom. The claw-footed tub bespoke the age of the place. But it was well kept and tidy. Charming, in fact.

“So what do you think?” Logan asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you think you could stay here?”

She didn't answer right away, toying with a concerning niggle in the back of her mind.

“Of course, if you don't like it . . . we can find something else.” Oh, why did he seem so bereft at the prospect?

“I do like it, but . . .”

“But?”

Hanna wandered to the window and looked out at miles of scrub. She shivered. She'd never lived
alone
before. She could stay with Sidney, she supposed, though even that would be quite a drive every day. Red Oak was a ways from her sister's apartment in town. “It's just so isolated. I don't think I would feel comfortable way out here all by myself.”

Brandon snorted. “Oh, you won't be by yourself.” Ben nudged him with an elbow. “Well, not much anyway.” Ben nudged him again.

Logan cleared his throat. “I, ahem. I'll be right next door.”

Hanna stared at him in shock. She wasn't sure why this shocked her, but it did.

Also, it thrilled her.

The thought of being out here, in the boondocks, with him, was glorious.

“And you two?” She turned to the twins. “Where will you be?”

“My place in town.” Brandon looked horrified.

“I'm not staying out here,” Ben said.

“So it's just you and me?” she asked Logan. “Way out here in the ass end of nowhere? Alone?”

Logan nodded.

Hanna tried to keep the smile from curling on her lips. But she failed.

And when he added, “Not a twin in sight,” she couldn't help laughing.

***

Her father was thrilled about this new opportunity, but bemoaned the fact that she was leaving for a couple months—or more. Once she'd packed, he insisted on taking her into town for groceries. He was convinced that without him, she'd starve.

“I won't starve, Daddy,” she said as they trundled out of the truck in the parking lot of FoodWay, the only market in town. “They do have grocery stores in Dallas.” Hanna took her mother's arm and helped her navigate over a step and into the store.

Her father grunted. “Big city stores. It ain't the same.” He brushed at his cheek.

“Daddy?” She peered at him. Were those . . . tears? “Daddy, what's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Daddy . . .”

“It's just . . . What will I do without you?” he asked. “You've never been away so long. It was bad enough when Sidney left.”

“I know.” She gave her father a hug.

“I just can't imagine it.”

“I won't be gone that long. And just think of how much money I'll be making.”

He frowned. “We don't need it now.”

Hanna laughed. “
I
need it.”

The wash of chagrin on his face was amusing. “The money?”

“No, Daddy.” She patted his arm. “I need this. I need to have something. I love that they appreciate my work. They want to
pay
me for it. Do you know how much that means to me?”

“I s'pose, sugar.”

Mom spotted the yarn display on the far side of the store and headed off that way. “You go with her, Daddy,” Hanna said. “I'll shop.”

He frowned. “All right,” he said, a gruff grumble. “But I am paying, and no sass from you, young lady.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Gonna be a long time before I can buy you groceries again.”

“Not that long, Daddy.”

He ignored her. “Get anything you want. Everything.”

She nibbled a lip. “I was thinking bacon . . .”

He laughed. He knew how much she loved bacon.

Well, she wasn't going to get
everything
, she thought as she guided her basket down the first aisle. She'd get dry goods and non-perishables. She couldn't allow Logan and his family to provide all her food, on top of that dazzling salary and a place to stay. She shivered a little at the thought.

The thought of a place to stay. With Logan.

Having him nearby day . . . and night was a stimulating prospect.

She had so enjoyed seeing him again. Even enjoyed the interaction with his brothers. They were all awfully cute. Not as attractive as Logan, of course, but cute all the same. Why her friends Porsche and Amy, and Sidney of course, flickered through her mind as she thought of Ben, Brandon, and Rafe, was a mystery. It would be fun, getting them all together—just to see what happened. Perhaps she would throw a party when the project was finished, and invite them all.

She enjoyed the little slither of mischievousness curling through her. It was highly possible that Brandon and Ben—and their mischievousness—were contagious. Of course, she knew very little about them. They could all be married, for heaven's sake. She made a mental note to ask Logan when she saw him again.

Oh dear.

Another slither. This one not playful at all.

She'd be seeing him again, and soon.

She'd pack up her truck and head out to Dallas. She'd be there tonight.

With him.

Alone.

The thought made her giddy.

That was probably why she wasn't paying attention. She was obsessed with thoughts of Logan—tonight, alone—when she bumped into someone.

She whipped her head up, her lips poised to form an apology, but it froze, half formed.

She hadn't bumped into anybody.

Zack had bumped into her. Grabbed her cart and yanked it to a halt. His fingers, wound in the metal grid, were white.

“Hanna.” A hiss.

His face was a mask. Not at all like the one she was used to, but she'd seen it before, this
look
, that afternoon in his truck. Upon reflection she realized it wasn't a mask at all. This was the real Zack. The other one—the kind one, the funny one, the patient one—that had been the mask.

She forced herself to stand up straight and meet his eye. “Hello, Zack.”

His gaze flicked to her cart. “I hear you're leaving town.”

“For a while. I got a job in Dallas.”

His lip curled. “What the hell kind of job did you get in Dallas?”

Hanna tipped her head. It was none of his business, but Snake Gulley was a small town. He'd learn about it sooner or later. “Painting.”

“Painting?” He barked a laugh. “What the fuck kind of job is that?”

She stared at him, anger and annoyance warring inside her. “It's a job I want, Zack. Please move.”

He snorted and edged closer. She should have known. He never did anything but what he wanted. “You think you're free of me?” The vitriol in his voice shocked her, as did the venom in his eyes. She'd never been so close to a rattler. Never wished so hard she had a gun on her.

“I know I am.”

“The hell you are. You'll never be free of me, Hanna. Go to Dallas. Paint the whole fucking town for all I care. But you'll be back.”

She cleared her throat. “Of course I'll be back. I live here, Zack.”

He grabbed her wrist in his hand and held her tight. His fingers bit into her skin. “Don't get flip with me, Hanna. Don't forget who I am. I can destroy you. Your father, your whole family.”

“Let me go.”

He did not. In fact, his grip tightened.

Fury raged within her. What right did he have to terrorize her? What right did he have to terrorize everyone? Hell, the whole town was afraid of him. Hanna glanced around. Ricky, who was working produce, met her eyes, then paled and looked away. Same with Barney at the meat counter—and he had a knife. None of these men, none of these people, would stand up to Zack.