07 It Had to Be You Read online

  Tucker nearly choked on his soda.

  “Does that bother you? Or make you jealous?”

  “Not jealous…” He studied Amy in the moonlight, looking so pretty she took his breath. “Maybe a little envious.”

  She snorted. “Please. You could be getting laid tonight if you wanted.”

  Carefully he set down his soda. “Really?”

  “There were at least three girls in the bar the other night who’d have jumped you in a heartbeat.”

  “But I didn’t want any of them.”

  “Why not?”

  Because I want you. “Don’t you ever feel envious, Amy?”

  “Hell, no.” She shuddered, and wrapped her arms around her bent-up legs, hunching over herself.

  His smile faded. Earlier suspicions about her past took root deep in his belly, and he took her drink from her hands and set it down, keeping her fingers in his, even when she tried to tug free.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said.

  “Not all men are assholes.” He stroked his thumb lightly over her knuckles. “I’m not.”

  Her eyes were shiny, reflecting the starlight and none of her thoughts.

  “Are you ever going to talk to me, Amy?”

  “I talk to you.”

  “About you. About your past.”

  “I’ve told you some.”

  “Tell me more.”

  She stared down at their joined hands. “I filled out the employee forms. You could read those.”

  “Those are confidential, and as a ranch hand, I don’t see them.”

  “Oh.” She seemed surprised to find out her privacy had been kept.

  Surprised, and touched, and his heart ached for her so much, but he didn’t know how to reach her. “Where were you born?”

  “Memphis. I told you my father’s a trucker.”

  “Who wasn’t around that much.”

  She said nothing to that, so he pressed a little. “When he was around, did you get along?”

  Her mouth twisted. “Hard to get along with a drunk.”

  Her fingers were so cold, and though he suddenly felt chilled to the bone himself, he sandwiched hers between his two hands. “Did he—” He winced, unsure how to proceed.

  “Are you trying to find out how he treated me? He likes to blame me for my mother’s death. With his fists. Is that what you wanted to know?”

  No. He’d wanted her to tell him she’d had a princess life, even though he’d known that hadn’t been the case. “Amy.”

  “When I got older, he didn’t blame me so much as…try to pretend I was her.” She pulled her hands from his as if shocked to find them there, and fisted them tight. “That was the worst part,” she whispered. “You know, fighting him off.” She put her forehead to her bent knees.

  God. His heart felt as if it’d been laid wide open, slashed with a butcher knife. He scrubbed his hands over his face, afraid he was in over his head here.

  “Sorry you asked, I bet.”

  He looked at her bent head, at the sun tattooed on the back of her delicate neck. “No, I’m torn between wanting to hold you, and kill your father,” he said very quietly.

  She surged to her feet. “It was a long time ago.”

  “How long?”

  “I haven’t been home since I was fourteen.”

  Four years. Slowly he stood up, too, lifting his hands to put them on her shoulders, but letting them hover, afraid to scare her off. “Where did you go? What did you do?”

  She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Found my way into kitchens, mostly. I was happy in Dallas for a little while, but then the boss found out I’d lied about my age and canned me. I went to New Mexico then. Taos. Loved it there, but the winters were too cold…”

  “So you made your way west. Here.”

  She was staring at her scuffed boots, apparently fascinated by them. “Yeah.” She hugged herself tight. “So now you know about me.”

  Screw not touching her. He wanted to touch her, and he wanted her to like it. To like him. Gently he took her arm, drew her around to face him.

  “Why aren’t you running?” she whispered, her arms still tight around herself. “Didn’t you hear what I said, what’s in my past? I’m a basket case.”

  “No.” Leaning in, he kissed her softly, and then pulled back. Her eyes were wide on his, her breathing shallow with what he hoped to God was arousal, not fear. “You’re the strongest, most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

  She blinked, slow as an owl. “I’m going to bed now. Alone.”

  “I’ll walk you.”

  “I’m not going to invite you in.”

  “I know.”

  She blinked again. “Won’t that…make you mad?”

  “No.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Hey, I just kissed you and you didn’t slug me. That’s enough progress for one night.”

  She just stared at him. “You’re crazy.”

  He held out his hand, waited.

  She shook her head. “Scratch that. I’m the crazy one.” And she took his hand.

  Callie woke up to a glorious sunrise shining through her window. She hadn’t set her alarm, knowing that Eddie and their guests wouldn’t be back until mid-morning. What that meant for her was that instead of rising at five, she could wait until close to six, as half the horses were gone, which considerably shortened her morning routine.

  Her body felt rather amazing, and it took her a moment to figure out why. Jake was currently wrapped around her as if he was her own personal blanket.

  She scooted free and sat up, hooking her arms around her knees. Without waking, Jake flopped to his stomach, hogging the entire bed with the body she never tired of looking at. What was it about his sexy, mind-melting grin? Or the way he touched her deep inside with just one soulful look of those gray eyes? Last night she’d thought she’d been so in control of herself, and yet all he’d had to do was back her up to a tree and she’d abandoned any restraint.

  She took her gaze off him and watched the early sunrise glow outside her window. Sierra walked past, just sauntered right on by. No bridle, no saddle, just the horse, casual as could be. Leaping out of bed, Callie ran to the window.

  “What?” Jake sat straight up, groggy.

  “The horses. Someone let them out of the corral and the stalls.” Swearing, she whipped around and began to dress.

  Jake had been angry plenty of times before, most recently the day he’d realized little Billy was going to try to ruin him. But that anger had passed because he couldn’t maintain fury at a kid clearly being manipulated by the adults around him. He felt only sorrow for Billy now.

  But someone had deliberately put eleven horses in danger, all in the name of yet another prank, and that got to him. He walked up to the huge, ugly tan horse that used to belong to his father. Moe stood nibbling on the grass, and not even Goose had the nerve to chase this big, bad guy off. Jake had a bridle in his hands, and he knew how to use it, but he sure as hell would rather be scaling the side of a burning building. “What do you say we get you back inside your nice stall?”

  Without looking at him, Moe danced sideways, away from him.

  Jake sighed, painfully aware of Callie on the other side of the yard, catching three horses to his every one. “Come on, now. All you have to do is put your head in this thing and then I’ll lead you back home. What do you say?”

  With a snort, the horse trotted away again.

  “He says you’re a pushover.” Tucker grabbed the bridle from Jake, walked right up to Moe and bridled him, expertly avoiding his teeth when Moe snapped at him. “Stop it, Moe. You’re just trying to scare him now.” He glanced back as the sheriff pulled up the driveway. “By calling this in, you’re going to have even more trouble selling.”

  “Don’t know what else to do.” Jake made sure to give Moe plenty of space. “It has to be stopped.”

  Tucker nodded and started to lead Moe away, but then he stopped. Kicked the dirt. “You know th