Romancing the Ranger Page 9

  He grinned. “I know you like that thing I did with the whipped cream last night.”

  Reese giggled, and a pink blush colored her cheeks. “Yes, I did like that, too. Now hand me that two-by-four and let’s get back to work. I want to finish this in time to help Miss Abigail with her chili entry. I’ve never actually made chili before, but I’m excited to learn. I love spicy foods.”

  So did he. He was finding a lot of things that he liked spicy lately. Like his new relationship with the blond-haired city girl—and the hotter the better.

  …

  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. The Summer Festival had sounded fun but she hadn’t counted on the number of people in town who were interested in Wade’s sex life.

  He held her hand as they walked through the booths lining the streets. The men seemed to give him nods of encouragement while the women gave her mean looks. Wade had been here the whole time. If they wanted him, why hadn’t they gone after him sooner?

  Evidently all it took to get him was a night of topless fishing and a can of whipped cream.

  “Yoo-hoo!” a familiar voice called out. Reese was glad to see the friendly smile of Miss Abigail as she beckoned them to a picnic table.

  Wade leaned in to kiss his grandmother’s cheek before directing her to the opposite bench seat.

  Rows of tables sat in the street in a semi-circle around a large open area for dancing. The band was warming up on the stage as they sat down. “Wow, there’s quite a turnout for this event.”

  Miss Abigail nodded. “Oh yes, this is one of the favorites amongst the locals. Everybody loves to kick up their heels and do a little street dancing.” She gestured to the older man sitting next to her. “This is Harry Langston. He’s the owner of the Cotton Creek Gazette and my special friend for the night.”

  Hmmm. Did special friend mean he was her date or that they planned to get jiggy with it later on?

  Either way—ewww!

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Langston. I’m Reese Hudson.” She smiled and shook his hand, trying to get the image of him and Miss Abigail out of her mind.

  “I like your dress, honey,” Miss Abigail said.

  Nothing she had would have been suitable for the street dance, so she’d snuck into town earlier that afternoon to Cotton Creek’s one dress shop. She’d found a white pair of wedge sandals and a simple summer dress in a gorgeous shade of pink. Its A-line style and slim shoulder straps were a great fit for her figure.

  The neckline was a little low, but she had the bust to fill it, and she’d enjoyed Wade’s sexy-eyed look of approval when she’d opened the door of her room earlier that night.

  “I like your dress,” he’d said in a sexy slow drawl. “But I’d like it better on the floor.”

  The steamy kiss he’d given her next was almost enough to have them call off going to the dance and stay home instead.

  The band piped up with a slow country song, and Wade slid out of the bench seat. “The first dance always goes to my best gal.” Before Reese could reply, he turned to his grandmother and held out his hand. “Gram, may I have this dance?”

  Miss Abigail laughed and winked at Reese. “Isn’t he just the sweetest boy?” She took Wade’s hand. “I hope I can trust you to keep an eye on Mr. Langston. He’s quite a catch, you know?”

  Reese smiled at Mr. Langston as he gave her a dashing grin. With his balding head of white hair and short stature, she wasn’t sure what made him such a catch, but maybe older gentlemen with all their teeth were in short supply in Cotton Creek.

  “Would you care to dance, Ms. Hudson?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Oh no, I’m not much of a dancer. And please call me Reese.”

  “Then you must call me Harry.” He slid from the seat and held out his arm. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She hadn’t realized quite how short he was until she stood up next to him in the wedge sandals. He led her to the dance floor and when she turned to him she realized that his nose was at the exact level of her cleavage.

  The tips of his ears turned as pink as her dress as he drew his eyes up from her boobs to her face.

  Oh boy. This was going to be a long dance.

  Fortunately, Harry was a skilled dancer and led her deftly around the dance floor. Country music had never been her thing, and she tried to keep up with Harry’s footwork, stumbling a few times and stepping on the poor man’s feet.

  He was a kind-hearted man and patient with her as he taught her the dance and held a conversation at the same time. Obviously Miss Abigail had told him why she was in town, and he asked about the progress at the park and how her writing was going.

  It was a secret thrill to have someone treat her like a real writer, and she gushed about the story she was currently working on while she tried to keep up with the steps.

  “It sounds like it has an interesting premise. Would you like me to take a look at it? Offer you some tips?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, I’d love that.”

  “Why don’t you come down to the paper later this week? I’ve got some contacts in the publishing world, and I can look over your work and give you some names of a few people to contact when you’re ready. And I’m always looking for some good news stories if you want to try your hand at writing a few articles for the local paper.”

  She couldn’t believe her luck. Getting advice from a seasoned writer like Harry could be a huge help to her. “Thank you. And I’ll start thinking of some ideas for articles.”

  The song ended, and a new faster-paced song began. Undaunted, Harry grabbed her hand and attempted to teach her how to swing dance.

  Feeling like an awkward goose next to a graceful swan, she valiantly tried to keep up with the swinging and twirling.

  Her head was taller than Harry’s reach, and the last whirl sent her careening into the table filled with drinks. A stack of plastic cups toppled over and rolled into the street.

  “So sorry,” she said to the teenage girl manning the drink table. Her hip aching from the bump against the table, she tried to retreat from the dance area.

  But Mr. Langston was determined to teach her to swing, and he tugged her back into his arms. He smelled like a cross between breath mints and Ben-Gay, and he laughed easily over her mishap. She had to admire his tenacity and positive spirit.

  Before another embarrassing mishap, a deep voice spoke from over her shoulder. “Can I cut in?”

  Her heart skipped a beat as Wade stepped in and wrapped a muscled arm around her waist. Thank goodness.

  Saved by the ranger.

  Pulling her close, he moved her smoothly across the dance floor, keeping perfect rhythm with the song.

  In Wade’s arms, she transformed into a nimble dancer.

  Okay, maybe not transformed, but at least she could keep up and wasn’t swinging into unsuspecting punch bowls. She sighed and relaxed into the dance.

  He was so wonderfully tall, and she laid her head against his shoulder and inhaled his manly scent. He smelled so good, and she felt so right in his arms.

  Dang. She was in trouble.

  Her heart bounced around in her chest, and she couldn’t stop smiling. They had less than a day’s work left on their project, then there’d be no reason to stay in town. But she wasn’t ready to say good-bye to the ranger.

  She needed to tell Wade she was leaving this weekend. Best to make it quick. Rip it off like a Band-Aid. Act like it’s no big deal. It’s not like he was emotionally invested, either. He would probably be glad to get her and Bagel out of his hair.

  Yes, that was the smart choice. Tell him tonight.

  But first, she could enjoy this dance—this night. Revel in the feel of his arms around her as he glided them along the dance floor.

  A thin sliver of pleasure ran down her spine as he softly sang the lyrics to the sweet country song into her ear.

  His voice was low and husky, and her insides warmed as she thought about a different kind of dance she wanted to do with him.
A dance that involved just the two of them, alone in a room, with the same country song, but a lot less clothes.

  She would tell him she was leaving. Soon. Maybe just not right now.

  And just maybe he would ask her to stay.

  …

  Wade drew Reese close to him as he two-stepped her across the dance floor. She was a good dancer and fit perfectly in his arms.

  Everything was perfect about her tonight. From the way her long blond hair fell in loose curls around her bare shoulders to the way she filled out that pink dress.

  Damn, did she ever fill out that dress. Or mostly fill out.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only man at the street dance who’d noticed how amazing Reese looked, and he’d experienced little nigglings of unease as he’d watched the guys from the park give her appreciative once-overs.

  He knew those guys and was sure the thoughts going with those looks were not rated G.

  He’d kept Reese by his side most of the night, but damned if Toby from maintenance hadn’t asked her to dance the minute he’d stepped away to grab them a couple of beers.

  What was wrong with him? Reese didn’t belong to him. She could dance with whoever she wanted to.

  Hold up now.

  He took a step forward as Toby’s hand inched lower on Reese’s waist. His coworker looked up and caught his eye, and the meaning behind it, and quickly moved his hand back up.

  Jealousy spiked, taking him by surprise. He wasn’t the jealous type. Or he hadn’t been until now.

  What made her different? And what did it matter? She’d be gone in a few days anyway.

  Maybe he could ask her to stay. Just to spend the weekend or a few more days.

  Maybe he could draw the project out, make it take a little longer.

  Who was he kidding?

  Reese had a life in Denver. A job, friends, her dad. She wasn’t going to want to stay up here in this Podunk town when she had a future waiting for her in Denver.

  What could he offer her anyway? A busted down pickup and a mountain of credit card debt. Didn’t sound like much of an offer to him.

  Reese was used to flashy cars and eating in expensive restaurants. He preferred his grandmother’s home-cooked meals to anything that was offered in a fancy restaurant. She played tennis in a country club while he liked to go fishing on a lake or hike into the mountains.

  They were just too different. And he didn’t need all the extra complications Reese Hudson and her chubby little pug would bring.

  Probably better that she was leaving. It would make things easier on them both.

  Besides, it wasn’t like she was emotionally invested or anything. She’d probably be glad to get him out of her hair.

  Oh great. Now he was thinking about her hair. The way it felt like silk as it ran through his fingers. The way it fell across his pillow as she lay under him in bed. And the way it smelled.

  Lord have mercy, her hair smelled amazing.

  “Did you get one of those beers for me?” Reese stood in front of him, her question breaking through his thoughts. She smiled up at him, her face happy and lit like a ray of sunshine.

  He handed her a bottle, and her fingers brushed his as she took it. “I saw Toby trying to grab your ass as you danced.”

  Geez. Where did that come from? He’d planned to say something about getting her a cold one, but it seemed her happy positive vibe somehow brought out his dark thoughts of jealousy and her leaving.

  Her smile fell and her happy expression was replaced with one of surprise. “What’s wrong? Are you jealous?” The smile returned, this time taking over her whole face. “You are. You got jealous that someone else was dancing with me.”

  He could feel his own scowl deepen. “Why does that make you so durned happy?” He would never understand women.

  She leaned forward, putting her lips next to his ear and inadvertently giving him a great view down the front of her dress. His face might be scowling, but other parts of him were suddenly feeling very happy as her breath tickled his neck.

  “That means you like me,” she whispered, her voice low and sexy.

  Yes. He guessed that’s exactly what it meant.

  But she didn’t need to know that. “Don’t get cocky. Maybe I just don’t want half the town looking down your dress or trying to cop a feel.”

  She grinned up at him. “Because you like me.”

  The smile happened before he could stop it. He felt the corner of his lip twitch upward, and he took a swig of beer to hide the expression.

  Too late. She saw it and grinned back.

  Her grin turned impish, and he knew a naughty thought had just crossed her mind. “How about you take me back to your place, and I let you look down my dress and cop a feel. Or two.”

  “Or ten.” He did like the way this woman thought. Grabbing her hand, he waved good-bye to his grandmother and Harry and tugged her toward the truck. “Let’s go.”

  …

  The following Monday morning Wade stepped out of his truck. He carried a tray of iced coffees and a bag of maple-iced donuts.

  Reese was already on the job site, her blond hair pulled up into a ponytail and a blue ball cap on her head. She wore the khaki shorts that he loved and a tank top that clung to all the right spots.

  Damn. This was a view he’d miss.

  The project was almost finished. It wouldn’t take them more than another day or two. That thought didn’t make him happy.

  “What’s this?” Reese asked, taking the tray of coffees from him.

  “Iced coffee. I had them put in cream and the flavor you like.” He drew an arm across his forehead. “It’s too hot for regular coffee.”

  “I’ve never had an iced coffee. I’ve always wanted to try one.” She pursed her lips around the straw and took a sip. He couldn’t help but look at her mouth. She had a great mouth.

  She closed her eyes in bliss. How come everything she did seemed sexy as hell to him?

  “Yum. It’s delicious.” She opened her eyes and grinned at him. “I love it when you introduce me to new things.”

  “You mean like that thing last night in the truck?”

  She laughed. “Well, yes, that, but I also meant like fishing, and frog legs, and maple-iced donuts.” She eyed the bag he was holding. “Speaking of which, do you by any chance have my new favorite flavor in that bag?”

  “I sure do.” He passed her the bag, not sure if he could take watching her eat a donut.

  He loved the way she licked the frosting from her lips.

  Dang. He had it bad.

  What would he do next week when she was gone?

  He had started to look forward to seeing her every day. Counted on hearing her laugh and her stupid jokes.

  Maybe he should tell her how he felt. Tell her that she meant something to him and that he wasn’t ready for her to go back to the city and leave him behind.

  He could suggest that maybe they both take a week of vacation. Go backpacking in the mountains. Get to know each other better. Nothing helps you to know the real personality of a woman until you take her into the mountains for a few days with only a backpack.

  Somehow he thought Reese would do fine.

  He imagined her laughing and taking everything in stride. Finding the positive in all of their experiences.

  Or maybe he could ask her to go away with him. They could drive down to Santa Fe, or he could take her to Mesa Verde.

  Yeah. Right. With what?

  He couldn’t afford to take a week’s vacation and with all the debt Tawnya left him, he couldn’t afford to pay for a weekend in a hotel, let alone a whole week.

  Who was he kidding? Even without the credit card debt, he wouldn’t be able to take her to the kind of hotel she was used to. He’d never be able to take her anywhere in the style she was accustomed to.

  Maybe it was for the best that she was leaving. Then he could just put her out of his mind and get on with his life. Forget about her and just focus on his job and all t
he things he’d been letting slide at the B&B these last few weeks. Let her get back to her own life.

  Uh-huh, he should just forget about her. Yeah, right.

  “You all right?” Reese gave him a questioning look. She had a dab of maple glaze right above her lip, and he ached to lick it from her mouth.

  Just tell her how you feel. See if there’s a chance she’s feeling the same way. “Yeah, sure. I was just thinking there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  There, he’d said something. Laid the groundwork. Now to actually tell her what he was feeling.

  “Oh good, I need to talk to you, too. I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving on Wednesday. The building is almost done, and my dad’s pressuring me to get back to work.”

  Wednesday?

  He’d thought he would at least have the rest of the week. And he’d hoped through the weekend.

  Maybe he could stall the project. Add in an extra task they needed to complete. “Oh yeah, of course. I understand.”

  She picked up a paintbrush. “I thought since we were down to the painting, we’d be able to finish up today or tomorrow. Is that right, or do you think it will take longer?”

  Yes. It will take much longer. Like another week. Actually another month. You need to stay.

  “Nope, if we put in a good couple of days, we should be able to finish up by tomorrow and get you on the road by Wednesday. You can be back in your skirt and high heels and sitting at your desk by Thursday morning.”

  She frowned. “Somehow that thought doesn’t excite me. I’d rather be here, painting an outhouse with you. What does that say about my life?”

  She just handed out the perfect opening. Tell her to stay, you idiot. But the words wouldn’t come. He’d somehow lost the ability to open his mouth. He shrugged.

  “You said you wanted to talk to me?”

  Did her face have a hint of hopefulness about it? Was she waiting for him to ask her to stay?

  “Oh, uh, it was nothing, really. Just that I thought you missed a spot on the trim.” He fumbled for the words to say. “And, uh, Gram wanted me to tell you to be sure to remind her about that recipe you wanted for the chocolate chip muffins.”

  Idiot.

  “Oh, of course. I really did like those muffins.” She turned the paintbrush over in her hands, and he thought he saw a tinge of pink creeping up her neck.