12-Alarm Cowboys (108 page)

“After one more stop to get you some clothes.”

“Only if we go to a resale shop. I don’t know when I can pay you back, and I don’t want to start a new life in debt.”

“Okay.” Becket doubled back and turned off Main Street onto one of the side streets, stopping in front of a building. The sign read
WOMEN’S SHELTER THRIFT SHOP
. “I’d rather take you to one of the other shops on Main Street.”

“This is perfect.”

Becket circled the truck and opened her door.

She hesitated, needing to be clear about this purchase. “I’ll pay back every dollar, as soon as I get a job. I promise.”

“You don’t have to.” Becket held out his hand.

Kinsey laid her hand in his. “Maybe not, but I will.” His blue-eyed gaze captured hers as she stepped down from the truck. She missed the running board and fell into Becket’s arms.

He caught her and held her against his chest until she could get her feet under her. “Are you okay?”

A dull ache shot through her middle. Her heart beat so hard against her ribs, she couldn’t catch her breath. Kinsey rested her hands against Becket’s chest, her cheeks heating. “I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy.”

“No, you’re fine. Falling happens to everyone.” His voice was soft, low, and rumbled in his chest, warming her where her breasts pressed against him.

Falling is a very bad idea.
She reminded herself she was just getting out of a relationship. Becket was a good-looking man. If she got involved with him—which she wouldn’t—he’d be a rebound relationship. Not something that would last. Realizing they were far too close to each other, she pushed against him. “I’ll hurry.”

“Take your time and get all you need.”

Kinsey selected two pairs of jeans, a couple pairs of shorts, several blouses and T-shirts and headed for a dressing room in the back corner. The items fit a lot better than those borrowed from Lily’s closet. When she’d finished trying them on, she opened the door to the dressing room.

Becket was there with two dresses and a pair of red cowboy boots.

“What are those for?” she asked, frowning. “I have all I need.”

“If you want to interview for jobs, you’ll need something a little dressier than jeans.” He handed her a hunter green dress. “This one matches your eyes.” He also gave her a soft gray business suit jacket and skirt. “I guessed on the sizes.”

Touched by his thoughtfulness, Kinsey handed him the jeans and shirts and stepped back into the dressing room with the dress and suit. She
would
need dressy clothes for interviewing. The sooner she found a job, the sooner she’d have money to pay back Becket.

The dress and suit fit perfectly. For guessing, Becket was right on. Back in her oversized clothes, she emerged from the dressing room, selected a nightgown to add to the pile and joined Becket at the checkout counter, where he paid for her purchases. Thankfully, the total wasn’t horrible. Glad she’d insisted on the thrift shop, she took the bag of gently used items and left, feeling a little more hopeful about starting over. “Thank you, Becket. I’ll keep a total of what I owe you, and I’ll pay you back as soon as possible.”

“Take your time. You’ve been through a lot.” He took the bag from her and settled it on the back seat. “I’m just happy you came to us.”

Kinsey climbed into the truck and waited for Becket to slip into the driver’s seat. “About that…”

“About what?”

“That thrift shop supports a women’s shelter. I didn’t know Hellfire had one.”

“Along with the growth in population, there was an increase in battered women. The Ladies Aide Society set one up for the county.”

Though she didn’t relish the idea, she had to offer it to Becket. “Rather than inconveniencing you and your family, I should go to the shelter.”

“No.”

The one word was spoken with such finality, Kinsey was hesitant to continue. But she did, determined not to be a burden on the Graysons. “It would make more sense than sponging off you.”

“You’re not inconveniencing or sponging off us. You are part of the family.” He reached across the seat and gripped her hand. “If Dillon comes looking, who will protect you?”

“Surely, the shelter has security measures in place.”

“I don’t trust they would be good enough. Tell you what, let the rest of the family weigh in. If they want you to stay, this topic won’t be brought up again. Okay?”

Kinsey stared at where their hands connected. Electric currents like she hadn’t felt in so long coursed through her arm, into her chest, and lower. Staying with Becket Grayson was a terrible idea. That crush she’d had on him so many years ago hadn’t gone away completely. In fact, the feelings were getting stronger the more she was with him.

The thought of Dillon finding her raised gooseflesh on her skin. She would feel better protected with the Graysons than on her own with strangers at the shelter.

“Okay.” She aimed a hard glance his way. “But if they want me to go, I’m going. No argument.”

He let go of her hand and turned the key in the ignition. “No argument.” Becket’s lips quirked upward on the sides. “I’ve even invited Rider to the house to have a say. He’s also in a position to keep an eye and ear open for strangers in town. His shop is just off Main Street, but the diner is right next door. He sees just about everyone who comes in and out.”

Back at the
ranch, Becket left Kinsey in the laundry room and retreated to the barn where he mucked the soiled shavings from the stalls, and then fed and watered the horses, cattle, and chickens. He’d needed the space. After spending the morning with Kinsey, he was feeling things he shouldn’t. Every time he touched her, he couldn’t deny the jolt of fire that raced through his system, igniting desire he’d long thought buried with his divorce.

Kinsey had grown into a beautiful young woman. Though he could still see the same girl inside her, she was mature now, all the curves filled in and stunning. Why did she have to grow up? Perhaps he should have taken her to the women’s shelter. At least there, she would have a place to stay and get back on her feet. He wouldn’t be tempted by the woman who’d been like a kid sister.

No. Becket would have been on edge the entire time, wondering if Dillon would find her there and take her back to Dallas and her life of hell.

He had to control his increasing desire and be the big brother, even if what he felt was anything but brotherly. Add the fact she was just getting out of an abusive relationship, and he would be in way over his head. Kinsey needed time to recover.

He was filling a trough with water in one of the pastures that led off the corner of the barn when Kinsey joined him, wearing Lily’s jeans tucked into the bright red cowboy boots. Because of her petite body, she looked like a little girl in big-girl clothes. Vulnerable and beautiful. The sexy full lips and the swell of her breasts made Becket reevaluate the little-girl image. He found himself wanting to touch his mouth to hers to ascertain whether her lips were as soft and responsive as they appeared.

She stuck her hands in her back pockets and rocked on her heels. “Could I help you with something?”

Her movement strained the fabric over her breasts.

Becket groaned.
You could go away and let my life return to normal.

“Everything’s covered,” he said. “All I had left was filling the trough.”

“What time does your family come home?”

“It varies. They should all be here after seven.”

“If you don’t mind, I can cook dinner.”

“You don’t have to cook. I can have Chance pick up something at the diner in town.”

“I don’t mind. I’m quite good at it.” She laughed. “I had to be, to please Dillon.”

“Well, you don’t have to cook for us. We’re pretty good at fending for ourselves.”

“I noticed some chicken in the freezer. I could thaw it out and make a big pot of chicken and dumplings.”

Becket’s mouth watered. “Margarita usually does the cooking, but with her and Pedro visiting family in San Antonio, and Mom and Dad in Hawaii, we’ve been eating out or making pancakes for dinner.”

Kinsey grinned. “Then let me do the cooking tonight.”

“You don’t have to twist my arm.” He winked. “When do you have to start?”

“Soon.”

“I’ll help.” He turned off the hose and wiped his wet hands on his jeans.

Kinsey’s brows puckered. “I’m not making pancakes.”

“I know.” He closed the barn door and waved his hand toward the house. “After you.”

As they walked, Becket admitted, “I’ve helped Margarita in the kitchen a time or two. Lately, I’ve been too busy, and she shoos me out. Since I took the day off of mending fences and mowing fields to fight fires, I can help out.”

“Okay. But maybe after you shower again.” Kinsey laughed, waving a hand in front of her nose. “You smell.”

Becket laughed, too. “I could always trust you to call it as it is.” Not only was she beautiful, she was the same Kinsey he remembered inside—honest, funny, and caring.

If he ever ran into Dillon, he’d wring the man’s neck. Anyone who’d hurt this woman was one sick bastard.

Kinsey got the
chicken boiling with the onions, carrots, celery, and broth, and Becket pulled out the other ingredients and supplies needed to roll out the dough for dumplings.

For such a large kitchen, the space seemed to shrink with Becket in it. Every time she turned around, Kinsey bumped into him. She rinsed a knife in the sink and dried it off. Then she turned, and Becket was right there, reaching over her head for something in the cabinet behind her.

“Sorry,” he said, his breath warm in her hair. “I thought we could use something to drink. It’s getting kind of…” he paused with the glass in his hand, “…hot in here.”

Kinsey’s heated cheeks and body were proof of that. But the air conditioning did nothing to quench the fire inside. “Umm, do you know how to make the dumplings?”

“I believe I have everything you want on the counter.”

Everything I want?
Kinsey could think of other things besides flour and rolling pins. “Okay, I can roll out the dough.”

“Show me what to do, and I’ll do it.” Becket stood where he was without moving, blocking her escape.

Her pulse humming through her body, Kinsey was tempted to lean into him. But having escaped one man, she didn’t think she was ready to start anything with another—no matter how tempting Becket was. “You could start by letting me get past you.”

He tilted his head, a smile playing across his lips. “You’re not like I remembered.”

Neither are you.
“Not the skinny kid following you and your brothers all over the ranch?”

“No.” His gaze seared a path down her length. “Not the gangly teen. You’ve filled out in all the right places.”

Her body tingled everywhere his glance lingered, and Kinsey hiked her brows. “Sounds like a line.”

“No line. Just the truth.” He stepped back and waved to the counter with the ingredients for dumplings. “Show me.”

Hands trembling, she measured flour and shortening into a bowl and cut it together, then added water. Once she had it all mixed into a big, doughy ball, she turned to Becket. “If you want to help, you can sprinkle flour on the pastry sheet.”

He grabbed a handful of flour and dusted the sheet. “Like this?” When he finished, he tossed some at her.

It hit her square in the face, spreading white powder all over her nose and cheeks. She blinked for several seconds, then nodded calmly and set the round ball of dough on the pastry sheet. Without remarking on the flour in the face, she dipped her fingers into the flour canister. “When you roll out the dough, you have to dust your rolling pin to keep it from sticking.” She sprinkled the flour on the rolling pin, and then tossed some at Becket’s face. Her shot missed and landed in his hair, sliding down the side of his head into his ear. He looked so ludicrous, the sight made Kinsey giggle.

He nodded. Straight-faced. “I see. Perhaps we should roll out the dough.” Becket stepped closer, took the pin from her, and rolled it across the big ball, barely making a dent.

“You have to be firm with it.” Kinsey laid her hands over his, pressed the pin into the pastry, and rolled it flatter. He smelled good, like soap, aftershave, and male. The white flour in his hair made him more approachable, fun-loving, and somehow younger than the oldest Grayson brother. He’d changed—grown older, matured, and become the responsible, potential head of the family in the intervening years—and she liked him even more than she had as that young teen. If only she hadn’t just come from the disaster of Dillon.

Flour hit her smack in the face again. Kinsey wiped at the white stuff and sneezed. “Hey. We were even up to that point. Now it’s game on.” She grabbed a handful and threw. This time her aim was true, and the bulk of the flour hit him in the face.

Kinsey clapped her hands and giggled. “Ha! Gotcha that time.”

“You realize that no good aim goes unpunished.” Another puff of flour exploded on her forehead.

“You’re making a mess of the kitchen,” she warned, opening a cabinet door to block his next assault. “Someone has to clean this up.” Kinsey let down her guard for a second. More flour exploded on her shoulder. “That’s it. Gloves come off. It’s time for some payback.”

This time, when she saw him scoop a handful of flour, Kinsey ran.

Laughing, Becket gave chase.

Kinsey dodged him, running around the kitchen island.

Becket ran after her, and then switched directions, ending up in front of her.

In her attempt to stop, Kinsey skidded, her feet slipping on the flour coating the floor. “Whoa.” She teetered, and then fell forward.

Fortunately, Becket was there to catch her, pulling her into his arms before she hit the floor.

With Becket’s arms around her, she froze, her breath catching in her lungs. Her breasts pressed against his chest. She’d never felt more excited and confused as at that moment in Becket’s arms. With all her heart, she wished she could stay right where she was, with his strong arms wrapped tightly around her. Safe, secure, and cared for. This was how love was supposed to be. Not controlling, demanding, and painful.

Becket’s gaze burned into hers.