Wild Card: Boys of Fall (10 page)

Lorelie laughed and rolled her eyes. “Dinner will be on the table in fifteen minutes.”

Dad left the room with a chuckle, and Lorelie turned to find Glen watching them with an expression she couldn’t even begin to read.

Before she could question him, Glen leaned back in his chair. “He’s a great guy.” She nodded, pleased by his words, until he added, “And I was right. It’s not the football guys getting in your way.”

Lorelie shrugged. She’d had a few months to consider Glen’s comment about her dad being a tough act for another man to follow. And she’d found a way to come to peace with it. “There are a lot of good men in the world, Glen. My dad is one of them. But he’s not the only one. So my bar is set higher. I’m not going to lower it and not going to apologize for what I want.”

Glen stood and placed his guitar on the table. “I’m not asking you to do either one of those things. You deserve nothing but a man’s very best.”

He reached out to her and Lorelie stepped into his arms without a moment’s hesitation. Her entire family would be here any minute, but she didn’t care. After the intensity of their interlude in the hayloft, she was surprised by how this simple hug seemed to affect her just as strongly.

They broke apart at the sound of the front door opening, and Oakley, Sadie and Joel’s voices coming from the foyer. Dad followed them all into the kitchen.

As they gathered around the dining room table, talking and eating, Lorelie was aware of two things. One was how closely her dad was watching her and Glen. And the second was how much she liked having Glen with them. Even Joel and Oakley seemed hard-pressed to keep up their chilly treatment in the face of his sense of humor and tales of life on the road.

He was a really nice guy. A romantic.

And she was going to fall completely in love with him.

Shit.

T
oby
: Last night’s concert was worse than Saturday’s.

Silence

Toby: Glen? You there?

Silence

Toby: Come on, man. Throw a dog a bone. Would you consider apologizing to Trent?

Silence

Toby: Glen?

Silence

Toby: Fuck. Text me when you get this

G
len leaned
against the truck and stared at the main house like a zombie. He’d arrived at the ranch when it was still dark this morning. Dark, in
his
mind, indicated night and sleeping, and his body had rejected being up at that ungodly hour until the third cup of strong, black coffee kicked in.

Now, as the sun was just beginning to set, he was fairly certain he’d never been in this much pain in his life. Merely getting up early had been a cakewalk to the physical anguish he was experiencing now. What kind of person chose to live in a place like this?

Mentally, Glen tried to figure out how many steps he would have to make to get from here to the house. Too many, he decided, as he continued to lean. He was fighting like the devil to make his stance appear casual. In truth, the truck was the only thing keeping him upright.

Coach walked back from the stable, where he’d gone to check on a few things, and slapped Glen on the shoulder. Glen fought not to wince. The older man had been right beside him all damn day. And while he hadn’t done as much of the backbreaking work as Glen, he’d still done his fair share. Something Glen was certain Lorelie would not have approved of if she’d seen it.

“You did good work today, Glen. There might be city blood in your veins, but you’ve got the spirit of a rancher.”

Glen could not disagree more. If this was what it meant to be a ranch hand, he’d stay on the road with Trent Asshole Maxwell until the day he died.

“Thanks,” he said, “but I’m not so sure about that. I’ve played my guitar until my fingers bled and cramped and not felt as bad as this.”

Coach laughed. “Hard work never killed anybody. It’ll get easier.”

Glen couldn’t imagine that, but before he could contradict him, Lorelie appeared on the porch. Glen forced himself to stand up straighter.

Mercifully, she crossed the yard to them, granting him a few more minutes to figure out if he could get his legs moving again.

“You’re back.” She gave her dad a quick kiss on the cheek. “How did the post digging go?”

“A lot faster with this man’s help.” Coach was smiling at Glen. “Covered double the distance I’d hoped today.”

Digging holes for fence posts was excruciating work. As much as Glen was worried about getting his legs to function again, he didn’t even hope for the ability to lift his arms. That wasn’t going to happen for days.

He’d been too busy this afternoon to reply to Toby’s texts and now he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. Apologize to Trent? The idea had pissed him off so much, he’d started digging holes faster. So fast that Oakley had teased him about making them look bad in front of Coach.

Even if Toby called and told him all was forgiven, playing the guitar was definitely out for a day or eight…or maybe forever.

Lorelie’s attention turned to Glen and she laughed. “Did you leave any dirt in the field?” She reached out to swipe her fingers along his cheek.

Glen shrugged, but the motion was cut short when it sent a sharp shooting pain straight down his arms. “I’m afraid some of this might still be manure from mucking out the stalls this morning and composting the crap.”

Lorelie gave her dad a quizzical look. From the way Coach raised
his
shoulders, it was clear he was confused too.

“You mucked the stalls?” she asked.

He nodded. Joel and Oakley had been waiting for him as soon as he pulled into the driveway this morning, pitchfork in hand.

“I wondered who had done that. Joel, Oakley and I take turns because composting is such a smelly job. I said I’d take care of it this week, since digging postholes is grueling work. I actually thought maybe Joel or Oak had forgotten…and I figured they were paying for it right about now.”

Oh, someone was paying for it, Glen thought, but it wasn’t Joel or Oakley. Yet. They’d been hazing the new guy, and, like a jackass, he’d fallen for it, not realizing what the day had in store.

And then, speak of the devils, they appeared.

“Hey, Lorelie,” Joel said, confused at her hostile look, until she spoke.

“You had Glen muck out the stalls?”

Joel was a decent enough guy to look a little bit guilty. Oakley just grinned, clearly pleased with the gag.

“Glen said he wanted to learn how to be a ranch hand,” Oakley explained. “We were just giving him an overview.”

“All in one day?” Lorelie wasn’t backing down. She was pissed. “Listen—”

Glen cut in before things got too bad. “It’s okay, Lori.”

She paused, mid-tirade, to look at him. “No. It’s not.”

Though it cost him a bit in terms of effort, Glen managed to reach out and grasp her hand. “It’s a guy thing. We do the same thing to new bandmates when they first join. Make them carry the heaviest amps, do all the grunt work nobody else wants to. Takes them a few days, but eventually they figure it out and the initiation is over.”

Coach chuckled. “Nice of you to be so forgiving. If I’d known you’d put in all that work before the fence building, I would have called a halt earlier. As it is,” Coach looked at Joel and Oakley, “we’re going to call this initiation over right now.”

Oakley and Joel didn’t look happy with that edict. No doubt they’d had more torture planned for tomorrow.

But Coach wasn’t finished. “Tomorrow, Glen and I will start setting the posts, while you two finish digging.”

“You’re coming back tomorrow?” Lorelie asked him, sounding somewhat surprised.

Prior to her appearance, he’d been trying to figure out how to get out of working the rest of the week. Now his pride was involved. It was clear none of them expected him to return.

“Of course I am. I promised to help your dad build the fence.”

It was worth every ounce of agony he was now suffering to see Lorelie’s face light up.

“Besides,” he added, not able to resist getting back a little of his own with the ranch hands, “I’m not about to throw away my chance at seeing you everyday.”

Her grin grew.

“I see,” Coach muttered.

Damn. Glen had forgotten her dad was there, listening to him flirt. While he hadn’t given Glen any indication that his interest in Lorelie bothered him, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Coach felt the same way as the football players.

He dismissed the concern. If he did, why would he invite him to work on the ranch? Unless he was testing Glen the same way Joel and Oakley were.

“Well, I just took a big-ass chicken potpie out of the oven, so why don’t you guys go get cleaned up?” Lorelie suggested.

As tempting as food sounded, Glen had officially reached the end of the line on strength. He wasn’t even sure how he was going to manage to drive back to the B&B. He looked down at his dust-covered clothing. “Butterfly, I’m not sure anything short of a three-hour hot shower and burning these clothes is going to get me clean again. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on the food. I’ll just drive back to town now.”

It did funny things to Glen’s stomach—things that had nothing to do with hunger—when Lorelie looked disappointed to hear he was leaving. It wasn’t an expression he’d ever seen thrown his way. People didn’t expect him to stay, so they weren’t sorry to see him go. The idea that Lorelie didn’t want him to leave stirred something inside him he’d never really felt before.

Regret.

Regret at the idea of walking away from her. Even for just a night.

“You know what,” Coach said. “It seems silly for you to keep that room at the B&B when you’re going to be working here all week. We put in long hours and the last thing you need is to tack a drive to town at the beginning and end of that. Why don’t you go into town with Glen, Lori, and help him pack his stuff? You can stay in our guest room while you’re in Quinn.”

Lorelie’s face flashed pure delight, while Joel and Oakley exchanged a somewhat horrified glance. As for Glen, he didn’t know what to think. He was sure sleeping under the same roof as Lorelie and her dad would be pure torture. At the same time, he wasn’t gentleman enough to say no.

“That’s real nice of you, Coach.”

“What about the barracks?” Joel interjected. “I mean, we’ve got a building right on the property all set up for ranch hands. He can have the whole place to himself.”

Coach shook his head. “The man’s lookin’ to get that inch of dust
off
him, Joel. Not sleep in more of it. That place is filthy and you know it.”

“We can clean it up,” Oakley offered. “We’ll start right now.”

“No.” Coach wasn’t going to be swayed. “He’s only here for a week. Doesn’t make sense to do all that work for a few days when there’s a perfectly nice room ready for company in the house.”

Lorelie reacted before the ranch hands could offer any more reasons why Glen couldn’t stay. “Let me go grab the keys to my Yukon. You guys go ahead and eat the potpie now while it’s hot. I’ll reheat a couple slices for Glen and me when we get back from town.”

She darted back to the house and Glen envied her ability to move so quickly. As it was, he anticipated it would take him an hour or so to travel the twelve feet to her car.

“I’ll see you in a little while,” Coach said, heading in the direction Lorelie had just gone. “You guys coming?”

Joel and Oakley followed after a brief wave. Glen didn’t doubt for a moment that they weren’t finished fighting the good fight. That idea was sort of solidified when he watched Joel tug his cell phone out of his back pocket and start texting. Rallying the troops, he figured.

Glen grinned at the thought.

While the overprotectiveness of the men in her life annoyed the crap out of him, Glen couldn’t help but be grateful that she had people who cared about her. He wasn’t going to be here forever and it set his mind at ease to know Joel and Oakley and Carter and Wade and all the rest would keep her safe.

When Lorelie reappeared, Glen pushed himself away from the truck with some effort and took that first excruciating step toward her car. Every muscle in his body rejected the movement. He’d stood still too long. Regardless, he ploddingly put one foot in front of the other, not wanting to lose face in front of her. He wasn’t about to look like an invalid after her dad, Joel and Oakley bee-bopped into the house without so much as a limp.

Lorelie met him at the Yukon. She was standing by the driver’s side door—thank God—and looking at him with concern. So much for hiding his pain.

“Ready?” she asked.

He nodded and gingerly settled into the passenger side. They made the ride into town in silence and Glen almost fell asleep.

He jerked when the car came to a stop, surprised to realize they were already at the B&B.

“I can grab my stuff if you want to wait in the car.” There was no way he’d manage to climb the stairs to his room without groaning every step of the way.

Lorelie opened her door and hopped out. “That’s okay. I’ll help you pack.”

“There’s not that much to pack,” he said when she stepped next to him on the sidewalk.

“Let me reword that. I’ll pack while you get cleaned up.”

They entered the B&B together and while she didn’t say anything, he noticed Lorelie had slowed her pace considerably.

Once they were in his room, she walked straight to the bathroom and he listened as she started the water. When she returned to the room, he was still standing just inside the doorway. Glen eyeballed the bed. What would he give to fall facedown on the mattress and lay there for the next six years or so, dirt, manure and all?

Lorelie read his mind. “No. If you lay down now, you’ll regret it in the morning. Best to work some of the kinks out. Plus there’s the stink factor.”

He chuckled wearily. He smelled like shit. Literally.

“I have to admit that’s the first time a woman has said the word
kinks
to me and my mind didn’t go straight to the gutter,” he joked.

“Well, I’ll have to work it into conversation later and see if I get a better response. Come on.” She took his hand and led him to the bathroom. She’d run him a steaming hot bath and he realized she had the right idea. A bath and then a Rip Van Winkle sleep.

At least, that was what he thought until she reached for his shirt and began unbuttoning it. He was grateful for her help, because God knew he couldn’t have gotten out of it himself. It stank of sweat and manure. He hadn’t been kidding back at the ranch. He was burning the thing.

The problem was Lorelie wasn’t intent on just stripping him out of his shirt. Her fingers started working on the button and zipper to his jeans.

He gripped her wrist. So far, he’d managed to keep his dick in his pants around her. Barely.

And tired as he was, his cock apparently hadn’t gotten the message that his body was out of commission. While the contrary appendage appeared willing to give it the old college try, the rest of him had checked out.

“Lori, I—”

“I’m not going to jump on you, Glen. I know you’re worn out. I just want to help ease some of the hurts.”

His brow creased and she laughed.

“Not that hurt,” she added. Then she shook off his grip—not that it was hard to do, he had zero strength left—and finished unfastening his jeans.

She worked the stiff denim and his boxers over his hips and down his legs. Then she put the lid down on the toilet and told him to sit while she tugged off his boots and finished divesting him of his clothing.

It was the first time in his life he’d been naked with a woman without hope of having sex. Lorelie guided him to the bathtub and he groaned in absolute pleasure as the hot water hit his fatigued muscles.

“Jesus Christ, that feels good,” he muttered.

Lorelie tossed a folded towel on the floor next to the tub and sank to her knees. She reached for a bar of soap as he watched, fascinated.