Entice Me Box Set: The Truth About Shoes and Men\Cover Me\My Favorite Mistake (17 page)

I bit into my lip. Actually,
I
was supposed to be looking where he was going.

He put his hands on his hips and scanned the piled-high office. “Where do we start?”

I looked around. “Where do you keep your computer?”

“Computer?”

I blinked. “You don’t have a computer?”

He scratched his head. “I’ve been meaning to buy one, but never quite got around to it.”

“PDA?”

“Pardon me?”

“Personal digital assistant.”

“Come again?”

I sighed. “Do you have a beeper?”

“Urn…no.” He patted a hand radio on his belt. “But all the volunteer firefighters have walkie-talkies.”

I looked at his belt, then made a self-indulgent detour across his crotch before lifting my gaze. “How is a walkie-talkie connected to your business?”

“It isn’t, but it’s cool.”

I closed my eyes briefly, and when I opened them, he had adopted a rather sheepish expression.

“The truth is, I have a good practice here, but the paperwork is killing me.” He grinned. “I need someone like you to cover me.”

I wanted to tell him that at the moment I was spread rather thin with cover duties, but instead I held out my hand. “Give me your credit card.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“You need equipment,” I said. He complied. I handed him my PDA to play with (the best way to get someone interested in technology, I’d found) and directed him to start organizing his patient files while I went upstairs to my room and booted up my own laptop. Accessing the Internet across a dial-up line was a lesson in patience, but I managed to order a desktop computer, accounting and scheduling software, and one of those multi-function printer/scanner/fax machines for express delivery. Since I was already on the Net, I jumped over to the Neiman Marcus Web site and, with my own credit card, ordered a delicious pair of Ferragamo low-heeled boots for Sam. I reasoned he would have ordered them himself if he’d had a computer.

I returned to the office to find him knee-deep in files, my PDA set off to the side—so maybe technology wasn’t irresistible to everyone. I pitched in to help sort the files, and he was appreciative, but I could tell the administrative
side of the business put him in a dour mood. An hour later my hands were gritty and gray from handling so much paper, but we had made much progress.

Suddenly his phone rang. My heart ratcheted up a notch, thinking it might be the reporter again, but there was no way I could pick it up without diving across Sam and raising his suspicions.

Sam juggled the receiver to his ear. “Hello?” I held my breath, and watched as his face turned serious. “When?…How far along?” He stood and checked his watch. “Tell Watt I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

He hung up the phone. “Watt Hendron’s mare is about to foal and she’s having trouble.”

“I’m right behind you,” I said, reaching for my camera and notepad.

He hesitated. “This could get messy.”

“If you think I’m spending one more minute alone with the snakes than I have to, you’re crazy.”

He shrugged. “If you think you can handle it.”

My chin went in the air. “I can handle it.”

“Okay, partner, let’s go.”

As I climbed into the truck, I said, “Just to clarify—we’re going to see a horse, right?”

* * *

I
SUSPECTED
I might be in trouble when Sam put on a rubber glove that went up to his shoulder, and not for a fashion statement. I’d seen my fair share of PBS specials on animals birthing in the wild, but those PG-rated shows hadn’t exactly prepared me for the goo, the slime and the smell of a large animal being brought into the world. This foal was “turned,” which meant it wasn’t in the right position to be squeezed out naturally. I stared in morbid fascination as Sam stuck his arm into the mare’s you-know-what,
then felt all around, and none too gently. I had to cross my legs.

As soon as Sam pulled out his arm, the mother-to-be, a giant brown beauty, lay down on her side in the large straw-lined stall. Her tail had been bound up, and her coat glistened with sweat. Sam patted her rump. “It won’t be long now, Lily.”

He peeled off the soiled glove and washed up in a bucket of warm water. Watt Hendron left to get more water, and Sam motioned me closer.

I swallowed hard. “Are you sure I should be this close?”

“I thought this was supposed to be an adventure.”

I stepped up carefully, keeping an eye on Lily, who whinnied occasionally and flinched violently.

“You’ll be in a good position to catch all the action,” he said.

He was right, I realized, and crouched to get a photo of him with Lily in the background. No sooner had I clicked the shutter than I heard the horse shudder and fluid shot out of her like a cannon, dousing my Prada slides with slimy baby juice. I covered my mouth with my fist to keep from gagging.

“Here it comes,” Sam said, and two little horse legs appeared, then a head, then the shoulders, then the whole baby slid out with a rush of fluid. It was covered in white gook and smelled…really bad.

“I’m going to be sick,” I murmured, then tried to stand. I slipped on the slime and flailed backward, sitting down in the bucket of wash-up water. At least it was warm, I told myself.

“Are you all right?” Sam called.

I knew he was too busy to deal with me, so I said, “Fine,” and thrashed my arms until I created enough momentum to free myself. I was soaked from the butt down
and the chilly air instantly turned my cool hipsters into a clammy vacuum, but amazingly, I still had the presence of mind to take a few candid photos of Sam cleaning the foal.

“I’ve seen this a hundred times,” he said, “and it never gets old.”

The camera lens gave me enough distance to regain my composure, and what I saw made my heart swell. Sam handled the animal as delicately as a flower, the look of awe on his face inspiring. I didn’t have to wonder what kind of father he would make, but I did wonder if he’d ever get that chance considering his attitude on commitment.

I got all warm and spongy inside, stirred by the dichotomy of the man. He was without a doubt the most masculine guy I’d ever known intimately, yet he had all the makings of the sensitive type. I was philosophical when I remembered our lovemaking this morning—was it possible for sex to be that exciting within the context of a committed relationship, or were we socially and biologically conditioned to accept and expect wild sex and commitment to be mutually exclusive?

When the foal wobbled to its feet, Sam came over to stand next to me. His breathing and color were heightened by the exertion. Sweaty and covered with bits of straw, he’d never looked more handsome. He turned to me and grinned, and my breath caught in my chest.
Oh, God, don’t let me fall in love with this man
.

“Don’t mind me,” I said to distract him just in case he could read my mind. “I’m going to finish up this roll of film.” I stepped back, out of the stall and into a dirt-packed hallway, and raised my camera for a different angle.

“Be careful, Kenzie,” Sam said. “There’s a lever—”

My hip hit something metal that gave way with a creaking noise. I heard something move overhead and looked
up to see a window-sized piece of wood hurtling toward my head.

My mind said to move, but my feet were frozen. Then a locomotive hit me from the side and I landed with a
whoomph
on the packed ground. Oxygen vacated my compressed lungs, and I saw starbursts. I gasped like a fish on dry land, and sat up with a bad feeling pressing on my heart. Sam had knocked me out of my shoes to save me and for his effort, had been clobbered by the piece of wood that was wrapped with a chain and connected to some kind of pulley mechanism that I’d dislodged.

My heart stalled. I’d killed him for sure this time.

14

“S
O WHAT
was
the thing that he saved you from?” Jacki asked over the phone, her voice croaky—I’d shamelessly dragged her from a deep sleep before her alarm had gone off in order to relate the previous day’s events.

I sighed and laid my head back on my pillow. From this angle in the pre-dawn light, the tree-trunk four-poster bed looked a little ominous. I decided this was as close to camping as I wanted to get. “It was some kind of oversized dumbwaiter to lower grain from the top of the barn. I inadvertently hit a lever and brought it tumbling down.”

“That’s so exciting!”

“Jacki, Sam could have been killed!” That one thought had kept me awake all night.

“But he wasn’t.”

“He could have been!”

She yawned. “Better him than you, friend. I think it was a very heroic thing for him to do.”

“Yes, but I’m supposed to keep him
away
from danger, not bring it down on his head! Sam would probably be safer if I just went home.” I felt a crying jag coming on.

“Well, maybe you should.”

“Maybe I should what?”

“Come home.”

I bit into my bottom lip and rode through the uneasy feeling that bloomed in my chest. “I would,” I said, toying
with the hem of the bed sheet, “but I haven’t finished the article yet.”

“I thought the article was simply your cover.”

“No,” I said quickly, “I’m going to use the article as a career stepping stone.”

“Ah. When did you sleep with him?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“Don’t be coy—I know something happened.”

“That’s ridic—”

“Spill it.”

“Okay,”
I conceded. “Something happened, but it was accidental.”

“Accidental? Did you two mistake each other for something else in the dark?”

“No.”

“What then?”

I squirmed. “It wasn’t planned. On Sunday he sort of…walked in on me…and the dildo.”

“No, he didn’t.”

I cringed. “Yes…he did.”

I heard a choking sound, then a thud and distant laughter. She’d dropped the phone.

“Jacki,” I yelled, “you’re not helping!”

I heard a rustling sound, then she was back on the line. “
How
did he happen upon you and the dildo? What— were you playing with yourself in the hallway?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I was in my bedroom.”

“And?”

“And he…came to the door to talk to me and he…heard me.”

Jacki squealed. “So he broke down the door and ravished you?”

“No,” I said miserably. “He had a key and my full cooperation.”

“And was it as good as before?”

“Yes. And he didn’t have a heart attack, thank goodness. Although, one could perceive that as an insult.”

“You’re really sick, you know that?”

I winced. “I know, I’m so confused. Helena sent me here to keep Sam out of trouble and so far all I’ve done is
cause
trouble. For both of us.”

“What happened to the girlfriend?”

“He says they’re not a couple, but I don’t believe him.”

“Why not?”

“She dropped by his house last night to see him.”

“You were spying?”

“
No
. I was simply looking out the window.”

“Uh-huh. And did she spend the night?”

“How would I know?”

“Because you were spying.”

I sighed. “Okay,
no
, she didn’t spend the night. I happened to be looking out the window again when she left a few minutes later.”

“Uh-huh. So she’s still hung up on him. What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.”

“So why are you worried?”

“I’m not worried.”

“You sound worried.”

“Okay, I’m
not
worried about a girlfriend, but I’m worried about…everything else.”

“You’re worried about falling for this guy?”

I frowned. “No. I’m worried about my job, my career, my future.”

“Uh-huh. So what’s on the schedule for today—sheep dipping?”

“I don’t know. We’re supposed to make a couple of house calls this morning, then Angel is scheduled to be
fixed this afternoon.” From where she snuggled next to my butt, Angel lifted her head and whined. I gave her a comforting pat, woman to woman-dog.

“That’s a little sad, don’t you think?” Jacki asked. “Taking away her ability to have babies?”

“Since when have you been big on babies?” A thought burst into my brain. “You’re not—”

“No, I’m not pregnant, Kenzie. But…Ted did ask me last night my thoughts on having a family.”

“And what did you say?” I held my breath because among the four of us, Jacki had been voted Least Likely Ever to Own a Breast Pump.

“I told him it sounded appealing.”

My mouth opened in surprise. “Wow…that’s…” I couldn’t pretend. “Confusing, actually. Aren’t you the one who said there should be a leash law for children under twelve?”

Jacki sighed musically. “I’m telling you, Kenzie, meeting the right man changes a woman’s perspective. Lately I’ve even been combing the real estate listings for a little house in the burbs.”

My eyeballs popped. “The
burbs?
This sounds serious.”

“I think it might be.”

At the wistfulness in her voice, jealousy twinged through my chest just prior to friendship kicking in. “That’s great, Jacki. Really.”

She sighed. “I don’t mean to be riding you about Sam Long. I’m just so happy with Ted, I guess I’m projecting onto my friends. But you and Sam are such opposites, it would probably never work out.”

“Right,” I mumbled.

“Maybe the guy in your office who asked you out is Mr. Right—what was his name?”

“Daniel Cruz.”

“Yeah. You like him, don’t you?”

“I guess so.” I hadn’t thought of him since I arrived in Jar Hollow.

“You said you weren’t allergic to him, so maybe he’s the one.”

“Maybe.” I squinted, but couldn’t conjure up his face.

“Let me know if you decide to come home early.”

“Thanks for letting me ramble. I think I’m overreacting to everything because I’m homesick.”

“Uh-huh. Good luck this morning. Try not to kill yourself. Or anyone else.”

I smirked into the phone. “Bye.”

I hung up and squeezed my eyes tight against the barrage of emotions hammering in my head. Sam and I hadn’t talked much after I’d clobbered him with the hand elevator, although he assured me that other than a headache, he was fine. In fact, when we’d arrived back at his place last night after dark, he’d hinted that he wouldn’t mind some company in a hot shower. My raw and reeking body had leapt to attention, but I had resisted his sexy grin. Then his grin had disappeared and he’d asked if I was still stuck on my man allergy theory. I said I was, and he said good night.