07 It Had to Be You Read online

  And yet Jake must have fond feelings for Tucker, or at least responsible feelings, to have done so. She knew they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Why didn’t they just do what brothers do and hug and move on?

  “I talked to Mom a while back,” Tucker said. “She said she’s been trying to call you. You don’t know how to return a phone call?”

  “Oh, I know how to return a phone call. When I get one.” Lazy as can be, Jake sprawled his long body out in one of the lounge chairs. Only Callie seemed to see how carefully he really moved, clearly not using his right arm or shoulder.

  Tucker stepped closer, his hands fisted. “You saying she lied?”

  “I’m saying she’s doing what she does best. Stretching the truth.”

  Callie stepped between them, mostly because she recognized that look dawning in Tucker’s eyes. Trouble. She didn’t want it here. “Let’s stick to the bigger issue, boys. We’re booked in the big house,” she said to Tucker. “We need a place for Jake to stay.”

  Tucker stared at her.

  She stared back.

  “Fine. Damn it.” Muttering to himself, he headed back inside.

  “Tuck, wait,” Callie said. “I forgot to ask you. Who fed the pigs this morning?”

  “Me.”

  “You left the latch open.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, someone did. They were running loose and enjoying themselves when I got outside. Took me an hour to catch them all.”

  He turned to look at her. He eyed her hair, which she knew probably still held some mud, readily visible in the long, strawberry red strands, but at least he was wise enough not to mention it. “Couldn’t be,” he said. “I always wait for the latch to click because they like to push at the gate as I walk away. I’m going to go have a look.” With one last annoyed glance shot in Jake’s direction, he stalked off.

  The slider shut hard.

  In the silence, Jake lay on the lounge, suddenly beyond exhausted. “Well, that was a touching family reunion.”

  “Yeah.” Callie stepped to his side. She was frowning, a little pucker appearing between her wide green eyes. She had a spec of mud there, too, which had made Jake want to laugh earlier.

  Now he didn’t have enough energy to laugh. Flying into Tucson, then driving eighty-five miles into this godforsaken middle of nowhere had taxed him. It used to be he could run five miles a day and wear sixty-five pounds of gear for hours upon hours in relentless, dangerous conditions, but ever since the roof incident and subsequent surgery, he’d been a worthless piece of shit. His physical therapy had been brutal but he was on his own now, with a list of exercises he had to do every day to work his shoulder. He’d been doing that for a month and could still hardly do a damn thing on his own.

  God, how he hated to admit that.

  And now to be here, on his father’s land…Jake tried not to think about Richard often. The man had been just one of a slew of short-lived marriages in his mother’s life, and the only one Mary Ann Mooney hadn’t managed to con. Because Jake had lived with his mother, a woman who hated the Arizona desert more than she hated being single—and that was saying something—she’d moved with Jake to LA after his birth. Richard had called Jake once a year on his birthday until his twelfth, when Jake had told his father he didn’t want to be a cowboy, but a firefighter. After that, the annual calls stopped, as if Richard had decided he hadn’t had a kid after all.

  And yet he’d left his entire legacy to Jake. The idea of it only added to his exhaustion.

  Idly he wondered if he could just sleep right there in the lounge so he wouldn’t have to muster the energy to get up. Callie, of average height and average weight—and perfectly sized curves, he had reason to know—probably had more strength in her little pinkie than he had in his entire body, and if that didn’t rankle…

  She still looked hot in the whole cowgirl setup, he couldn’t help but notice. Long fiery red hair braided down her back, brilliant green eyes that flashed her every emotion, heart out on her sleeve for the world to see.

  They’d once spent an unforgettable evening with a bottle of whiskey in her cabin, sharing confidences and shots, talking about much more than either of them would have if they’d been sober. He’d had some timing that night, when it came to talking about his father. He still regretted not waiting until after they’d done the deed to tell her he thought Richard Rawlins had been a selfish, thoughtless asshole and an even worse father. But no. Callie had addled his brain with her big, expressive eyes, her warmth and compassion, the sexy little sounds she made when he touched and kissed her—

  But then they’d stopped for another shot, and had started talking. Big mistake, talking to a woman while naked. She’d kicked him out of bed and her life in one fell swoop.

  Now she might look at him, she might even want to touch, but she was far too stubborn to ever admit she’d acted hastily. He figured some of that stubbornness came naturally to her. With all that red hair, she probably couldn’t help it.

  “What happened to you, Jake?” She gestured to his shoulder.

  “A tumble through a roof.”

  She gaped and moved closer. “You fell through a roof?”

  Three stories. Into flames. “No big deal.”

  She pointed to his scar, her finger nearly touching him. In her eyes and voice was a new softness that made him wonder if they shared another bottle of whiskey now, if she’d—

  “It looks like a big deal.”

  Uncomfortable with what he was afraid was pity, he shrugged, a movement that caused not a little shaft of pain. “Worried? ’Cause we could get comfy and…talk about it.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Hell, no, he didn’t want to talk about it. “I’d rather you kiss it better.”

  “Don’t be a jerk.” A little hesitant, she kneeled at his side. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Really?” She lifted her gaze from his scar to his face. Studied him. “Because it looks bad.”

  Apparently he was far more tired than he’d thought, because he would have sworn she was actually concerned. That touched him, when he hadn’t planned on being touched at all. Not knowing what to do with that, he laughed. “You want to play nurse, Callie? Because I’m game.”

  She let out what could only be called a growl and surged to her feet. “For your father, I would have.”

  A strange feeling filled his chest, and he was afraid it was jealousy. His father had treasured her as an employee, while pretending he didn’t have a son because that son had dared to have different hopes and dreams than his.

  “I’d also play nurse for any of your animals,” she said. “Anytime.”

  But not for him. Yeah, he got that loud and clear. He just didn’t know why he’d hoped for something else. Or why, for that matter, he’d never been able to forget her. Jesus, he was crazy to be here, on his father’s land, near his brother, with the daily reminder that no one, no one who shared his blood gave a shit about him.

  “Do you really intend to stay for three or four months?”

  “Maybe.” What he didn’t intend to do was tell that he had nowhere else to go and no one else who cared. That he needed help with even opening a damn can of soup, never mind reaching up into a cabinet for a bowl to dump it into.

  Or that he could really get behind selling this place for the money to pay down his mortgage, get the best attorney he could to fight this whole Billy thing, and maybe even take that cruise Troy had suggested.

  “I don’t get it.” She sounded bewildered and unsettled. “Why would you want to stay so long?”

  He stretched out his legs even further in preparation for the nice nap he intended to take.

  “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

  He wished.

  She was close again, her knees brushing the lounge. Her gaze ran over his body. If he hadn’t been so dead…

  “Jake? No work?”

  “Not