Wild for the Girl (12 page)

*   *   *

T.J. wiped arena dust from her fingers onto the thigh of her jeans, then read the text message from Reese:
CALL ME
. Her stomach clenched into a hard knot despite her efforts not to overreact. A quick meeting time or a suggestion for where to eat dinner would have been more reassuring.
Call me
implied that something needed to be explained. Explanations were the same as excuses, and rarely good.

She stuffed the phone in her back pocket, ignoring the ominous tingling that slid across her shoulders. There was no reason to assume something was wrong. But it wouldn’t hurt to put off calling for another fifteen minutes, until she got Black Jack cleaned up and back in his stall.

The workout had tired them both, but it was a good kind of tired, leaving a satisfied glow. Jack had done well, and the exercise had taken her mind off Reese’s girlfriend. She stroked the horse’s hot neck as she walked beside him, murmuring words of praise as they entered the barn.

“Hey, T.J.!”

She turned her head, mouth opening wordlessly when Tad Prescott waved from the far end of the aisle. It wasn’t his presence in the barn hours after his lesson that surprised her. It was the vision in creamy white at his side.

A young woman with flowing blond hair linked her arm through Tad’s as they walked up the barn aisle. T.J. couldn’t take her eyes off her. Her silky cream-colored blouse dipped low between full breasts. Beneath her white slacks, open-toed pumps clicked on the cement floor. As she got closer, T.J. saw the sparkle of rhinestones on the shoes, glittering as she walked, something T.J. thought would have looked laughable on her but which seemed completely appropriate on the blonde. She had to be from Hollywood. No one in Barringer’s Pass, Colorado, looked like that.

Tad grinned as they reached her. “I was just showing off your barn and bragging about what a fantastic rider I’ve become, so don’t contradict me.” He winked, turning to the woman. “T.J., this is Caroline. She just got in today and I’m giving her the grand tour.”

T.J. smiled politely and held out her hand. The woman looked like she was going to take it, then hesitated, looking at T.J.’s fingers. T.J. looked, too. The dust was gone, but horse sweat darkened her fingertips and left black lines beneath her short nails. In contrast, the woman’s hands looked soft and pink, with white tips on her long, lacquered nails. T.J. pulled her hand back with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t touch anyone right now.”

The woman smiled in relief. “Nice to meet you, uh . . . T.J., was it?” She pronounced the letters carefully—
tee jay
—as if she might be unfamiliar with the alphabet, but her voice was soft and cultured. Tad had stumbled on to a classy one.

“Yes, T.J. And I can confirm that Tad has become an excellent rider. I think the movie studio will be thrilled with what he can do.” A thought struck her as she realized he would be filming soon, and the resort was expecting an influx of preproduction people. “Are you with the production company?”

She lifted elegant eyebrows in amusement. “Oh, no. I just happened to be visiting here, and I recognized Tad from his movies. I simply had to say hello.”

“Lucky me.” Tad gave Caroline one of his patented winks, guaranteed to charm. “Caroline’s from back east. Where was it—Baltimore? Brooklyn? The Bronx?”

Caroline widened her eyes in mock horror and gave Tad a playful slap on the arm. “Please!” She turned to T.J. “It’s Boston,” she corrected, but with the native accent that made it sound like Bahston.

Boston. The word echoed in T.J.’s mind as the ominous feeling came racing back, prickling like needles across her shoulder blades. It could be a coincidence, she told herself, blinking at Caroline’s blond beauty. Would Reese fall for that?

Who wouldn’t?

But a lot of people lived in Boston. Tons of them. Fighting the sinking feeling in her stomach, she said, “I hope you enjoy Barringer’s Pass. The mountains are beautiful in the summer.”

“Uh, yes.” Caroline’s gaze flicked to the open barn door behind T.J. and the majestic snow-capped peaks beyond. “I suppose they’re pretty. But actually, I’m just here to visit the owner of the hotel. He’s a close friend.” She smiled.

A knife jabbed into T.J.’s stomach, twisting painfully while she fought to keep her expression serene. She couldn’t resist a jab in return, however small. “You know Mike Barringer? How nice. He’s a friend of mine, too.”

Caroline didn’t even blush at being caught stretching the truth. “No, I meant his son Reese. He’s an architect in Boston, but he agreed to take over the resort for a few weeks until his father is able to handle it on his own.”

T.J. didn’t know which emotion to give in to first—her annoyance at Caroline’s making Michael Barringer sound incompetent, or her anger at the easy way Caroline brushed aside Barringer’s Pass and T.J.’s beloved mountains. Or hell, Caroline’s very presence here. But curiosity was stronger than all of them. Steeling herself for what might be coming, she probed at the sore spot. “You said Reese is a close friend?”

The question must have alerted her female instincts because Caroline paused, giving her a long, assessing look. T.J. was painfully aware of what she saw—brown hair still plastered to her head from her riding helmet, sweat-stained T-shirt, dirty jeans, and scuffed boots—and hated that she flushed under the other woman’s confident gaze. “
Very
close,” Caroline affirmed, smiling without a trace of malice. T.J. had been dismissed as a possible threat.

She didn’t sound like a woman who’d been dumped. T.J. managed a faint smile, while inside something crumpled and died. She thought it was hope, but it might also have been trust.

She saw no reason to stand around, making polite conversation with the woman who was here to exercise her claim on Reese. “Excuse me, I need to untack my horse and wash him off,” she told them. Then, because it had been Reese who’d cheated, not Caroline, she added through gritted teeth, “It was nice to have met you, Caroline.”

She turned with Jack, forcing Caroline to perform a quick shuffle backward to avoid rubbing against Jack’s sweat-flecked body. T.J. wished hard for a fly to land on his hind quarters as they passed her, causing a nice swish of his tail that might catch her across her lovely blouse. It didn’t happen, but something better did. Jack raised his tail and with a solid plop deposited a steaming pile of manure on the cement floor.

Behind her, T.J. heard Caroline gasp, then gag at the pungent odor she’d just sucked in. She pretended not to notice, but hoped it ensured that Caroline would stay away from the barn. She didn’t care to ever see her again.

That applied to Reese, too. She should be furious with him, but her heart gave a painful twist at the thought of losing him. Apparently hope wasn’t entirely dead, which could only mean she was in for more heartache.

12

Reese hadn’t liked the lack of emotion he’d heard in T.J.’s voice when she’d returned his call. At least she didn’t make excuses when he reminded her of their usual supper date. Once they talked in person, he was sure they’d be okay.

But not sure enough to quiet the nervous feeling in his stomach. It mattered what T.J. thought. She’d been hurt before, and he wasn’t going to be just another jerk who passed through her life and left her in pain. He wasn’t sure what he
did
want to be, because the thought of being just another fond memory was disturbing, but there was no question she was important to him. More important than Caroline, who was starting to become a distinctly unpleasant memory.

He raced through the afternoon’s work and was ready to find T.J. even earlier than promised. It might be a point in his favor. He was locking his desk drawer when the office door opened.

He looked up, eyes widening in surprise. “Dad!” He stood, but his father waved him back down as he settled into a chair and set his crutches aside. Reese eased onto the edge of his chair. “Is something wrong?”

“You tell me, son. I’ve been invited to have dinner with a Mr. Chaz Milbourne, who’s apparently an acquaintance of yours, and his daughter, Caroline, who’s apparently a
very close
acquaintance of yours.” His dad’s eyes narrowed, waiting for a response.

“Chaz Milbourne? What the hell . . . ?” Ice water trickled into his veins. “Dinner with him and his daughter?”

His father leaned toward him, scowling. “Who the hell is this Caroline person, Reese, and damn it, why didn’t I know about her if she’s that damned important to you?”

He frowned back. “Because she’s not that important to me.”

“She’s not?” Michael Barringer sat back in his chair, his scowl disappearing as he regarded his son with a thoughtful look. “Well, now, that’s reassuring.”

Reese felt suddenly off balance. “Why would that be reassuring? You don’t even know her.”

“I know you, and I have eyes,” he said, as if that cleared up anything. “Maybe I misunderstood the invitation.”

Reese clenched his jaw until it hurt. “No, I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Well, I had the impression that this Milbourne character thinks you have long-term intentions toward his daughter.”

“He does. And I don’t.”

“So you said. Then why does he think so? Have you been leading her on? Look here, Reese. Maybe I only got to see you during the summers while you were growing up, but if you think it’s okay to lie to a woman in order to have your way with her—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I didn’t lead her on or lie to her, Dad. I broke up with her. We were never even that close. But Caroline Milbourne gets everything she wants, and apparently she wants me. And since Daddy makes everything happen, she must have told him I wasn’t cooperating.”

“Oh.” Michael’s mouth twitched with disgust. “Ol’ Chaz must be a big shot.”

“CEO of an international bank. Lots of friends in high places, including my boss.”

“Got you by the balls, eh?”

“No.” Reese gave him a hard look. “He may think so, but he’s not running my life.”

“Good man. Does this have something to do with the fact that he thinks I’m bedridden?”

Reese winced. “I tried to keep you out of the picture.”

“Wish you’d told me. Boy, I would have hammed it up. Now I have to have dinner with this guy.” He considered it. “Might be fun to pull his strings a little.”

“Don’t.”

“Son, the man has to learn he can’t manipulate the Barringers. This is a matter of pride and respect.”

It was a matter of his job. A delicate approach might save it. “I’m going to dinner with you, Dad. I just need to make a phone call first.”

“Fine.” Michael rose, shoved the crutches under his arms, and hobbled toward the door. “Meet us in the main dining room. And tell T.J. I said hi.”

Reese’s eyebrows pulled into one long, suspicious line as he watched his father leave.

*   *   *

T.J. dropped the metal scoop in the grain barrel and gave the phone display a cautious look. Reese was supposed to show up, not call her. She had a bad feeling about this. “Hello?”

“T.J.” She could already hear an apology in his voice and stiffened in anticipation. “I can’t make supper.”

“Oh.” Oh, no. He was backing out.

“It’s not because I don’t
want
to. I have to have supper with my dad.” He paused, as if considering whether he should say more. “And Caroline and her father.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the expected ache gripped her heart in a tight fist. Expected or not, it still hurt enough to knock the breath out of her. “I see.”

“T.J., this isn’t about me and Caroline. Her father is trying to make this about my job. He needs to accept that it won’t happen between us, but I have to finesse it so he doesn’t hurt the company in the process.”

How hard was it to say,
It’s over?
And since when did it require dinner with both parents? She might be a small-town country girl, but she wasn’t naive. “Whatever.”

“T.J., I am
not
dating Caroline.” She could hear the worry in his voice, no doubt because his cozy little two-girlfriend scheme was falling apart.

“I heard you.” She just didn’t believe it anymore.

“They’re waiting for me, so I have to go, but I’ll give you the whole disgusting story later.”

Disgusting
—that was a good word for it. T.J. put a hand over the sore spot in her stomach, wondering why she suddenly felt sick. She should feel angry. Men who lied and cheated deserved her wrath, not the satisfaction of giving her a self-pitying stomachache. But oh, God, it hurt too much to find that fury, no matter how justified, and the churning pain was all she could feel.

“T.J.?”

“What?”

“I
will
see you later. We need to talk.”

Not if she could help it. “Bye.” She ended the call and let her knees crumple until she was sitting beside the grain bin, staring at the cement floor.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this, damn it. He was allowed to leave her, she’d always known he would. She’d been prepared for it. Sort of. But he’d lied, too, and that was unexpected. She should be furious. She should call him a lying, cheating son of a bitch and tell him she was glad he was leaving.

She’d do that. Maybe tomorrow, as soon as she found that core of anger. But right now it hurt, a searing pain that brought tears to her eyes, because, damn it, damn it, damn it, she loved him. Despite her promise not to. Despite knowing she’d get hurt.

She’d been right about that part. It hurt like hell.

Well, she’d been hurt before. The one thing she wouldn’t do was sit here and take it, because the old axiom was true: if you fall off your horse, you get right back on.

Sniffing back the hurt, she got to her feet. She’d fallen off her love life, hard, and she knew what she had to do to get back on it.

*   *   *

Reese shifted in his chair, wishing everyone would eat faster so he could get the hell out of here. His call to T.J. hadn’t done a thing to reassure him that she understood. He needed to see her, but he couldn’t be in two places at once, and he was afraid to leave his father alone with Chaz Milbourne.