Heart of Steele (6 page)

She shook her head. “I tried to sing when I
was young.” She rolled her eyes. “It didn’t work very well.”

He laughed. “What’s the story?”

Tracy sat on the throne behind the drums. “I
was performing with the other kids in my second grade class, and I
hurled.”

“Hurled...on the stage?”

“Yes.” She tapped the ride symbol, creating a
haunting ring. “After that, I wouldn’t try it again.”

“That’s too bad. I bet you have a nice
voice.” Her speaking voice was sweet and melodic. He’d love to hear
her calling his name as she came beneath him on the bed, scraping
her nails down his back... Jeez, he had to stop doing that to
himself. He shifted to relieve some of the pressure behind his
fly.

“I took voice lessons after I moved to LA,
but just to help me with acting. That’s where my dreams lie.” She
swiveled the backless chair to look at the guitars.

He’d had dreams like that, too. His had come
true, and gone far past what he’d envisioned his life would be
like. Now it felt as if he was on the other side of that
rollercoaster ride, heading back down to earth, his goals more
basic and domestic.

The timer in the kitchen buzzed, and she
swung around, her eyes wide. “Did you cook something?” She stood,
sniffing the air.

He held out his hand to her. “The pizza
kitchen in town makes unbaked. My assistant had the caretakers pick
one up for us when they stocked the cabin. You just pop them in,
and it’s instant gourmet.”

Taking his hand in hers, she opened her
mouth, took a breath, then paused.

He waited.

“Steele, thank you for making this more like
a vacation than a jail term.” That cute worry wrinkle appeared
between her brows. “I appreciate it.”

He could tell her how interested in her he
was. Tell her how he’d fantasized about her for months. Tell her
he’d been trying to find a way to get her alone somewhere. But that
was moving too fast, and she was looking for slow.

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Tracy.” They strolled
into the kitchen, the scent of spicy red sauce mingling with baking
dough and as many garbage ingredients as they could load on one
pizza.

He opened the oven door and slid out the hot
baking stone with the pizza on it, put it into its thermal holder,
and set it on the middle island.

“Oooh, yum.” She reached over and plucked a
pepperoni from the top. Blowing on it, her lips formed a sexy
little ‘o’. Her gaze met his. “You want my pepperoni, don’t you,
rich bad boy.”

He crooked a finger at her. He wanted a whole
lot more than that from her.

She held out the pepperoni and Steele took
her wrist in his hand, ate the slice from her fingers, then sucked
her thumb into his mouth and ran his tongue over the pad.

“Oh.” She sighed the word as her lids dropped
and her tongue touched her teeth.

“Yeah.” With a kiss to her palm, he released
her. “It’s getting hot in here.”

“Uh huh.” She swallowed. “Can I do
anything?”

He lifted one brow and quirked the corner of
his mouth. She could do a whole hell of a lot of things for
him.

Her cheeks pinked up.“I mean like pouring a
couple glasses of water for us.”

“Water, beer, or wine?” He pulled the pizza
cutter out of a drawer and cut the pie into little squares.

“Wine sounds nice.”

He gestured to the bottle he’d opened when
he’d put the pizza in the oven. “Grab that bottle and let’s go sit
by the fire.” When they settled on the couch with plates of
steaming pizza and glasses of ruby wine, he noticed her staring out
the wall of windows. “I never get tired of this view.”

“It’s fabulous. The golden lights rimming the
lakeshore. The moon reflecting off the water.” Tracy finished her
pizza and set down her empty plate. “How did you find this
place?”

“It’d been on the market for a few years. The
price was high because of the acreage, and the old house was
falling down. Literally.”

“You had this built?” She tilted her head and
looked at the ceiling. “It’s a great design.”

“Thanks. I saw the view and knew what I
wanted. I found an architect to draw up the plans.” He’d also had
plans drawn up for a big house on his family’s ranch, but he hadn’t
started building that place yet. Without someone to share it with,
it’d just be a sad, lonely house, a reminder that he’d failed to
reach the most important goal on his list. “I paid a premium to get
it done quickly, and eight months later, here we are.”

“You designed this?” She sipped her wine. “It
could be in a magazine.”

“That was suggested. I don’t get up here
often, and I value my private time too much to deal with a camera
crew.” He slid a few more pieces onto his plate.

She nodded and looked at the fire. “And I
threw you right into the spotlight today.” Her shoulders slumped.
“You must have hated seeing that video online.”

“My PR people say that any publicity is
good.” They’d have to spin it somehow so he didn’t end up looking
foolish. He finished the last piece from his plate and set it down
on the coffee table. “For me, it’s just another day in the
spotlight. We’ll figure out a way to lessen the negative impact.”
He touched his tongue to his bruised lip. “No pun intended.”

A half laugh puffed out of her.

Steele picked up the wine bottle. “It would
have been worse if it was footage of me in my private life.”

“Do you have a private life?” Her gaze caught
his. She was serious.

He chuckled. “Yes, I do. I work hard, but I
take time to be with my family and friends whenever I can.” He
refilled their glasses. “And I enjoy what I do, or I wouldn’t stay
in the business.”

Turning to face him, she ran her fingers over
his forearm. “How did you decide that music was what you wanted to
do?”

Her touch sent tingles up and down his arm.
“My parents were musicians. They traveled around Texas and
Louisiana, playing. They brought my sister and me with them.” He
snuck closer and laid his arm behind her, across the back of the
couch, his fingers touching her shoulder. “Mom taught me to sing
and play dozens of instruments, and what she couldn’t teach me,
she’d get me lessons for.”

“I don’t remember reading that about
you.”

“You did research on me?” He took her hand in
his and ran his thumb over her palm.

“Just a little.” She smiled but looked away
to sip her wine.

“When my uncle died, he left his ranch to
Dad, who broke up the band, hauled Mom, Val, and me to the McLairn
Ranch, and we became ranchers.”

She rubbed her lips together for a few
seconds and set down her glass. “How did your mom feel about
that?”

“Aw, she was ready to give up the traveling.
We’d spent every weekend, every school holiday, every summer on the
road. She liked having a place to plant roots.”

“So, you had your choice of becoming a
rancher or a musician?” The fire snapped and she jumped a bit.
“That’s why you do both?”

“Mom wanted me to develop my musical talents.
Dad thought I should focus on learning ranching.” It had caused
more than one blowout between his parents. “I guess, to make them
happy, I did both.” It didn’t leave much time for anything else,
like being a kid.

“That must have caused some friction between
them.”

He looked out the window at the half-moon
rising. “It did, so when I was seventeen, I decided to write a song
to get them to see how much they meant to each other.”

Tracy set her warm palm on his stomach.
“That’s so sweet.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

Apocalypses could happen right now, and he
wouldn’t care. This was as close to heaven as he could get here on
earth.

“What happened when you played it for them?”
She snuggled closer.

“Dad admitted he may have been wrong about
trying to keep me on the ranch. He let Mom send a recording of that
song to an agent.” Tipping his head, he breathed in the floral
scent of her hair. “He gave me a year to test out the music career
idea, but if I didn’t make it by then, I had to knuckle down and
learn ranching at the local college.”

“And?” She laughed. “I ask that as if I don’t
know the results of that one-year test.”

“And...
One Night in Amarillo
ended up
getting me a recording contract.”

Her head popped up and she looked into his
eyes. “You wrote that when you were seventeen? I love that song.”
Her lips tightened and she counted on her fingers. “But you said
your mom died fifteen years ago.”

The old ache settled in his chest. “She died
five months after I signed the contract deal.” His dad had been
heartbroken, his sister was a mess, and Steele? He’d decided he was
tough enough to do everything; write and record an album, help run
the ranch, and hold his family together.

Tracy wrapped her arm around him and held him
tight. “And you’re still doing both jobs all these years
later.”

He’d been doing it all for so long, he didn’t
realize what he’d missed. He closed his eyes and laid his cheek on
top of her head. This was what he needed. This was what was missing
in his life. Quiet moments, silent communion, someone who gave a
damn about him.

“Which one makes you happy, Steele?” Tracy
pressed her ear to his chest.

His heart rate sped. Hell, she got right to
the slippery spot where he was spinning his wheels. Could he do
both anymore? All three, really. But trying to hold his family
together didn’t feel like a priority any longer. Not with Ryder in
the picture. Fuck it.

His gut told him that it was the right time
to back away from the craziness of the music industry, but his
brain told him he’d probably go crazy if all he had was the ranch
to run. The ranch, no family of his own to share it with, and his
dad and sister trying to shove Ryder down his throat.

He needed to back away fast from that
decision, or it’d ruin this perfect moment. “Right now, all I can
think of is how happy I am right here. With you.”

She sighed and turned her head to look at the
fire. It needed more wood, but he wasn’t moving as long as he had
Tracy in his arms.

He ran his hand up and down her arm. “How
about your childhood?”

She tensed.

Something going on there. Something
painful.

“I’m from Montana.” She moved away from him,
but he kept his hand on her shoulder. “Small town, not much to do
there. I got a scholarship to the U of M, then came out here when I
was twenty two.”

“You mentioned your dad had passed away. Is
your mom still there?” She’d been so open whenever they talked.
This closed-off tenseness felt strange

“She is.” Her hands clenched together in her
lap.

“Were you an only child?” Getting her to talk
was like prying a hubcap off an old truck.

“No, I have a brother. In...Montana.” She
turned to face him, her face too serious. “About today, when I hit
you.”

He blinked. How had she segued to that
topic?

“I just want you to know that I have never
hit anyone before, and I will never,
never
do it again.” Her
hands fisted. “It’s no excuse, but I wanted to explain what I think
happened.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I barely
remember anything after hearing you say...what you’d said.”

He’d known better than to take a private call
in a public place.

Her gaze caught his, then darted away. “I’d
just gotten a text from Reno saying she was going to tell Chase
about Joy. Then you were on the phone, you said that he didn’t need
any more bastards around. I shouted at you, I don’t even know what
I said.” Pressing her fingers to her temple, she seemed to curl
into herself.

Steele remembered. She’d told him that
he
was the bastard, and Chase was ten times the man he was.
That’s when Steele had smiled at her, thinking she was making a
joke, but somewhere inside, wondering if her words were true. But
then, she clobbered him, and all his self-doubt got shoved back
down inside. He’d been hit in the face by the woman he wanted to
bring into his life. Crazy.

“Tracy.” He waited until she looked at
him.

Her body shook, her eyes shining with
tears.

“I would never tell a man to abandon his
child. I can’t explain right now what my dad and I were arguing
about, but it had nothing to do with baby Joy. Or any infant, for
that matter.”

He took her arm and tried to pull her closer,
but she resisted. “I don’t blame you for hitting me. Hell, under
the same circumstances, I would probably have done the same
thing.”

Her lip quivered. “You would have punched
me?” A tiny smile curled her lips as a tear tracked down her cheek.
Was she over the worst of it? She giggled one little laugh.

“Yes.” His voice choked a little as relief
rushed through him. “Although I’ve never hit a woman in my life, I
would definitely have punched you.”

“Thank you, Steele.” She blinked away the
moisture. “No one has ever said anything that kind to me
before.”

He let go with a loud laugh and pulled her in
close.

She wrapped her arms around him and that
rollercoaster ride? It just got back on track and coasted slowly
home.

After a few minutes, she yawned.

“Let’s get you to bed. It’s been a long
day.”

She sat back from him and looked into his
eyes. “Bed?”

“Just sleep.” He brushed her soft hair back
from her face. “We both need it bad, and if I took you into my bed
right now, we wouldn’t close our eyes for at least ten wicked
hours.”

She purred and smiled sweetly. “That sounds
delicious.”

Standing, he took her hand and helped her up.
“Tomorrow, we’ll do wicked and delicious.” He picked up their
plates. “Tonight, I’m tucking you into the peach bedroom, then
going to my room and locking the door so you can’t come in and make
me change my mind.”