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  Now wasn’t the time to make a move. He patted her arm companionably, when all he wanted to do was grab her closer and help take away her pain.

  Backing away, she straightened her shoulders. “Sorry, I don’t know what—”

  “Hey.” Their gazes met. “Don’t be sorry. I’m…” What was he? Intrigued by her for sure, a little intimidated by her being his employer, having daydreams about the two of them all naked, skin on skin, and sweaty. “I’m glad you told me about him.”

  “You really want…to meet him? Harry?” She stared so intently into Pete’s eyes, he nearly had to look away.

  “I would like to meet him.” He gave her a smile. “That way, I can ask him if CJ really stands for Calamity Jane.”

  The spark immediately flared in her eyes and she gave a humorless laugh. “Hayseed, the last man that asked me if I was named after her, is now buried up there on the hill, right next to her.” She pointed in the direction of Mount Moriah Cemetery.

  He backed away, holding up his hands in surrender. “No offense. Can’t blame a man for asking.”

  She nearly smiled. “All right, I need to get to work, and you need to work on your art.” CJ picked up the baskets and Pete got the trash bag. They headed down the steps, her in the lead.

  Since CJ was in a softer mood, this would be a good time for him to ask for another concession from her. “Your photo shoot is in about three weeks. Where is that going to happen?”

  She stopped at her apartment door. “Right here in the garage, with a backdrop. We’re going to hire a bikini model to…you know…lay all over the bike.” She shrugged. “I’m told that’ll sell more raffle tickets or something.”

  He lifted his brows. CJ didn’t seem like the type to go with the cliché. But biker magazines were full of that kind of advertisement. “Probably a good idea. I’d like to be there for the shoot, if that’s okay. Maybe get my picture taken with the bike, too.”

  “Of course. That’d be good for your resume.” She winked then pressed buttons on the keypad. The door popped open.

  He caught a glimpse of a bright space inside. “Thanks. I’ll cover the cost of my pictures.”

  “No, you won’t.” She took the garbage bag from him. “And your meals and beer are free here, too. While you’re working, that is. Not forever.”

  Not forever. That could be the tagline for CJ’s life.

  She started to close the door. “See you later.”

  “Yep.” He turned and trotted down the steps. He had a few new ideas for the bike, now that he knew more about her father, and he wanted to get them down on paper. He paused at the last step and looked up at the second floor windows. How was she going to react when he completely ignored her suggestions? He pushed through the gate, whistling the first song that popped into his head. Crazy.

  ****

  After closing the door on Pete, CJ headed straight for the bedroom. When he put his arm around her on the roof, she’d nearly melted into a puddle at his feet. How did he do that? What kind of wicked chemistry did they have flowing between them?

  She sat on the bed and pulled a sky-blue pillow onto her lap. She could see the two of them wrestling around on her mattress for hours and hours. But was that all she wanted? He was one of those men who women looked for all their lives. Honest, hardworking, gentle, strong, smart.

  “Oh, no. You can’t go that direction.” She wanted to get the hell out of Deadwood. See things in person that she’d only seen on TV. Falling for a rancher who would sweep her off her feet and deposit her in a little house on the prairie was not in her plans.

  And one night with Pete would be enough to turn her goals from world-traveler to apron-clad wife and mother of eight. Lying on her side, she hugged the pillow tight. Best for both of them if she kept him at arm’s length from now on. Closing her eyes, she put everything aside and slept, dreaming of that ranch house and the four walls that seemed to close in on her like a trap.

  That evening, CJ spotted Pete as he came in the back door of the saloon and found a stool at the bar.

  She let Tony wait on him while she kept busy with the waitresses’ orders. She was at the kitchen service counter when Pete’s food came up, and she automatically grabbed it. She almost set it down again, then stiffened her spine and marched toward him. Hell, she was not one to shy away from anyone or anything.

  Setting the grilled cheese sandwich and onion ring basket in front of Pete, she pointed to his half-empty mug. “What ‘cha drinking?”

  “Lite. I’m heading out to my friend’s place, but I’ll be back in the morning.” He looked into her eyes. “Are you visiting your dad tomorrow?”

  She froze, his mug in her hand. She hadn’t planned to visit Harry. Didn’t think Pete was serious about meeting him. But why not? Get it done and over with, anyway. “Around ten?”

  “Sounds good.” He bit into an onion ring, his white teeth strong and straight.

  A flash of her imagination had those teeth nibbling at her nipple. She shivered, hot and hungry for the one thing she promised herself not to partake of.

  He chewed, watching her. His gaze dropped to her T-shirt, his chewing stopped, then his gaze shot to her eyes. One brow rose. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed, sexy in his strong neck.

  Damn, hard nipples and a thin T-shirt. She turned quickly, nearly ramming into Tony as he passed with a bucket of ice. CJ refilled Pete’s beer and set it in front of him. “I’ll come by the garage and get you.”

  “I’ll be ready.” He winked at her.

  She walked away. This crazy, middle-school crush she had on him would not continue.

  The lie fell away from her libido like peeling paint.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning at ten, CJ stood outside the garage in a purple sundress and white sandals. She’d put her phone and clutch into a white purse, which felt almost ridiculous hanging from her hand. Why carry a bag when you had pockets?

  She took a few breaths then keyed in the code and pushed open the door.

  Pete sat at a tall stool, hunched over a makeshift table of sawhorses and particle board. He’d opened all the windows and the breeze rushed through and out the door. He grabbed at papers as they tried to escape the table.

  CJ quickly shut the door. “Sorry.”

  He turned, smiling. “Not a problem.” He looked her up and down, then whistled. “You look stunning.” He walked toward her.

  She glanced down, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. Why did he always say the right thing? How did he always make her feel…beautiful? She gritted her teeth. What had she just told herself? Don’t let feelings creep in. “Stunning, if you like eggplant.” When she glanced at his face, he frowned.

  “You don’t need to do that.” He took her arm and guided her toward the door.

  “Do…” She was going to ask, “what?” but she knew exactly what he meant.

  He opened the door for her and gestured to his truck. “I’ll drive.”

  She looked at the well-used vehicle. Riding in his truck, sitting next to him, sharing the same air; it all seemed too cozy. She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “My car is inside the attached garage.”

  He kept walking toward his pickup. “This is out and ready.” He opened the passenger door and helped her in, closing the door and jogging around the front of the truck.

  After they were on the road, he gestured to the backseat. “Okay if I bring a sketch pad into the care center with me?”

  “Sure. Dad is…was…an artist. He’d enjoy seeing you draw something.” She looked out the window. Harry used to have an incredible talent for capturing light and emotion from a scene. Now, he could barely hold a pencil.

  “I’d like to see his work.” Pete pulled into the driveway.

  “I have nearly all of his works hanging in my apartment.” The few paintings he’d sold, were prized possessions of Harry’s friends in Deadwood. Maybe she could sell a few more to benefit the care center.

  “Is that an invit
ation?” Parking the truck, Pete wagged his brows at her.

  “Huh?” Oh great, he thought she’d invited him to her apartment? And now her cheeks heated. “Not likely, hayseed.”

  With a laugh, he opened his door and came around the hood.

  She had her door open before he got to her, and slid out while he grabbed his sketchpad and a small box, and followed her toward the front door. “Just so you know, Miss CJ, technically, I’m a cowboy. We don’t raise any hay on our ranch. Just cattle.”

  Her heart thunked a couple times. A cowboy. Hell, one of her sweetest fantasies was riding off into the sunset…

  “You ready?” He placed his hand on the door handle.

  She’d stopped dead in her tracks, daydreaming of Pete on a horse. “You have horses?”

  He nodded. “Yep. Mom’s a horse lover. Rides every day.” He pulled open the door. “You ride?”

  She shook her head. “Not since high school.” CJ walked into the facility, greeting the staff, then signing in for them both.

  They walked down a carpeted hallway, the scent of disinfectant prevailing, mixing with some perfumed spray that emanated from small dispensers near the ceiling. Voices called, mumbled, sang. It had taken her a while to get used to the cacophony. How would Pete handle it?

  “Nice place.” He smiled. And it looked sincere.

  CJ stopped at the open door to her father’s room. He sat in his lounge chair watching a sports channel. “The TV calms him, so we leave it on whenever he’s awake.”

  Pete looked at Harry, his face tight. “Is he going to be okay with me? I mean, I’m a stranger.”

  Her breath caught as she sucked in oxygen. “Everyone’s a stranger to him, Pete.” Swallowing a burst of emotion, she pasted on a closed-mouth smile for her dad.

  Pete set his hand on her lower back. “Sorry.”

  Stepping into the room, she waited until Harry looked up. “Hi, Dad.”

  He frowned, his wrinkled face looking too pale, his green eyes searching between her and Pete. “Me?” His right hand shook, his left stayed curled in a fist.

  She moved closer and sat on the small table next to him. “Daddy, it’s CJ.”

  The few gray hairs he had left on his head were standing up at all angles. “CJ?” She could see the name didn’t mean anything to him.

  “This is my friend Pete.” She gestured him closer and used the remote to reduce the volume on the TV. “He’s an artist, too.”

  Pete sat in the chair perpendicular to Harry’s. “Mr. Overton. It’s good to meet you.”

  Harry just looked at the sketchpad on Pete’s lap.

  Pete opened it and turned to a blank page. “What do you like to draw, Mr. Overton?”

  Her dad didn’t answer, his gaze wandering back to the television.

  CJ talked to him as Pete used colored pencils to sketch something. Occasionally, Pete joined in the conversation. After a few minutes, he flipped the page and started a new drawing.

  When Harry began nodding off, she stood. “We’ll get going, Dad.” She kissed his forehead. “You sleep and I’ll see you in a few days.”

  Her dad reached for her hand. He hadn’t done that in a while. “Thank you.” His trembling fingers squeezed hers.

  Tears formed but she blinked them back.

  Pete tore a sheet out of his pad. “Mr. Overton, this will help you keep CJ close, even when she’s not here. He set the paper in Harry’s lap. A head and shoulders drawing, looking so much like her, it could have been a mirror. He’d written CJ in big letters on the top corner.

  Her dad touched the paper, then looked at her. “That’s you.”

  CJ had to bite her lip to keep from losing it completely. “It is, Daddy.” She stroked his arm until his eyes drifted shut. She gestured for Pete to follow her and they tiptoed out of the room. She pulled the door nearly closed. “He likes to sleep more and more now.”

  Pete took her hand. “He’s a nice guy.”

  She had to look away from the sincerity in his eyes, or she’d break down. “You’re a nice guy, too.” She let go of his hand and started toward the front door. “Thank you for the drawing. I never would have thought of that.”

  “You’re welcome.” He followed silently.

  In the truck on the way back to the saloon, Pete turned on the radio and took the scenic route. “Want to stop for lunch?” He glanced at her. “I know a good place.”

  She nodded. “That’d be good.” It was rare she ate anywhere but at the bar or in her apartment. Eating out alone was no fun.

  He swung into a fast food drive-through.

  “Fancy.” CJ pulled a face.

  Pete chuckled. “It’ll taste better once we get to our destination.”

  “And that is where?” She checked the menu, seeing a sub she’d like.

  “Not far. I know you’re busy.” He ordered for them, and once they had the food, headed out of town. He stopped at a spot along Whitewood Creek.

  She reached for her door handle.

  “Hang on.” His hand wrapped around her arm. He took a few seconds, looking at where their skin touched, then pulled back his hand and shifted into four-wheel.

  “Off-roadin’?”

  “Just a bit.” He drove the truck up a barely-there road, over a steep hill, and down to where the river rushed over rocks. “Used to come here when I was a teenager.” He shut off the truck and looked around. “Quiet here.”

  ****

  Pete glanced at CJ. She sat stiffly. “You okay?”

  “I think I was here once, too.” She grabbed the bag of subs and slid out of the truck then wandered toward the river. “With Dad.”

  He gathered the sodas and the two folding chairs CJ had hauled into the garage that first night, when she’d brought him pizza and beer.

  When she stopped at a big rock by the river, he set everything down and waited for her. She wasn’t one for stillness, and when she took the time to just stand and stare, he figured there had to be a lot going on in her head. After a while, she wandered over and sat in the chair next to him.

  He handed her a sub and set her cup of soda on the grass and they talked about the places around the region they’d visited.

  After they finished, Pete went back to the truck for his sketchpad. He sat on the big rock by the water. “Can I sketch you?”

  “No.” She slid lower in her chair and closed her eyes. “I just want to get some sun.”

  She’d been quiet since the visit to her dad. How could he change her mood?

  A half hour later, he finished his drawing and jumped off the rock, nearly landing on a snake. He must have let out a curse because suddenly she was curled up on her chair.

  “What is it?” She sounded more curious that afraid.

  “Snake.” He looked closer. It was just a harmless garter snake. A baby. He picked it up carefully, the way he’d done a thousand times back on the ranch.

  “Don’t you bring that over here, Pete Gonally.” That was the boss lady’s voice he was used to.

  “You don’t like snakes?” He took a step toward her, holding the little thing up for her to see.

  “No one in their right mind likes snakes.”

  He took another step. “You’re saying you’re in your right mind?”

  “I will throw a chair at you if you come one step closer.” She got up and actually picked up the lawn chair.

  “But he’s so cute.” He took another step. “Look at those sweet eyes—”

  “Pete. I’m serious.” She took a step back and held the chair above her right shoulder.

  “Okay. Okay.” He held out the snake and bent down.

  She set down the chair.

  He put the creature on the grass but picked up a short stick. “Just touch it once.” He jogged toward her, holding the stick out in front of him.

  “Pete, you shit. I’ll fire your ass.” She kept the chairs between them, but stood her ground.

  He stopped and held the stick flat in the palm of his hand. “You
afraid of a little bit of wood?”

  “Oh, hayseed.” She stalked around the chairs toward him, the gleam in her eye promising revenge. “You’re just about to regret messin’ with me.”

  Pete backed up slowly, wanting to draw out this playful side of her.

  When she advanced on him, he backed up at a jog, judging how close he was to the riverbank by the rocks under his boots.

  She fisted her hands as she flip-flopped toward him, but her lips curved upward slightly at the edges.

  When he knew he was close to the water, he opened his eyes wide, windmilled his arms as if he’d lost his balance, and shouted, “Help!”

  She ran the last few yards and grabbed him by the front of his pants with both hands.

  He stopped his acting, feeling her fingers inside his fly. Instantly, blood flowed there and a hot pulse swelled him until there was only a layer of cloth between her fingers and his manhood.

  CJ’s mouth formed a little “O” as she stared down at the activity in his pants. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling green like the brightest spring leaf.

  Of their own volition, his hands grasped her arms. This was what he’d imagined when he’d thought of bringing her here. The two of them, alone, their gazes locked, their hearts pumping fast. He leaned in.

  She tipped her head.

  Their lips met, hers warm and trembling, his firm and sure.

  Sliding her hands onto his hips, she pulled him closer to her curves, just barely pressing herself against the ridge behind his zipper.

  Pete set his hand on the nape of her neck and ran his tongue over her lips.

  She responded with a sigh, and he pressed his tongue inside her sweet mouth, discovering that her taste was a little oniony, a little breathless.

  When his hand slid down her spine, she shivered and let her tongue meet his.

  Then there was nothing. She jumped back as if he were the snake.

  Between her brows, lines formed. “This isn’t a good idea, Pete.” She pressed the back of her hand to her lips, staring at him as if she couldn’t look away. “I thought I could separate…I’m sorry.”

  He took a moment to compose himself. “I’m not sorry. I want this.” He didn’t want to waste any more time pretending, going slow, not having her under him in her bed. “But if you need more time…”