It Had to Be You (37 page)

Now that he’d nearly killed himself in the weight room, he’d exhausted all options of self-entertainment. He wished for something to occupy him, to take his mind off everything. At home that want would be sex. Sex on the lunch table. Sex for dessert. Sex, sex, sex.

Now he’d be happy to have someone to sit with and talk to.

Christ, he was getting old. He needed to sell and get out of there. Go back to his life.

But his stomach dropped a little because deep, deep down he was afraid of the truth—that the life he wanted to get back to no longer existed.

He stepped out of the house into the warm spring day.

Goose rushed to the edge of the grass, neck out, prepared to attack. Jake actually imagined the obnoxious thing as the spirit of his father, cursing him, waving his fist. “Honk, honk,” Goose said, and Jake heard “Loser, loser.” He shut his eyes and ears to the image and turned away from the grass, stepping instead onto the driveway.

Goose let him go, but watched carefully.

Callie’s red Jeep was still parked on the driveway. The hood was up, and from beneath it came an exceptional pair of jean-clad legs topped with well-worn boots.

She was talking, either to herself or the Jeep or the old dog lying prone at her feet. “You big, worthless piece of shit.”

Lifting a brow, Jake moved closer, coming to a stop just next to the hood. Shep didn’t waste the energy to lift his head. How he’d ever managed to get another dog pregnant was a big mystery to Jake.

More swearing from Callie.

“Problem?”

Jerking upright, she smacked her head on the hood. With another impressive oath, she rubbed the top of her head and glared at him. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

“I didn’t sneak. What’s up with your Jeep?”

“It won’t start.” She kicked the tire. “And Lou’s on a job interview in Boca. Damn it.”

“I saw Lou right here only a little while ago. He had his tool box out.”

“He was giving the Jeep a tune-up. You’d think he’d have noticed it wouldn’t start.”

“Maybe I can help.”

“Oh no. I’m working on evening out the score between us, not adding to my debt.” She vanished beneath the hood again.

“What, you think I’m keeping track?”

“Oh, stop with the insulted, wounded warrior tone. This isn’t about you.” Her words echoed beneath the hood.

Wounded warrior?
“Look, I worked as a mechanic after high school while I was training to become a firefighter. I could probably—”

“I’ve got this handled, Jake.”

She wasn’t even looking at him. Damn, he was even lonelier than he thought to be bugged by that. He glanced around him.

Still just wide open space. He was going to lose his ever-loving mind out here. The last two visits hadn’t been this way, but they’d been short and quaint and, even better, he’d had a woman with him, tending to his every need.

He didn’t know what he’d expected this time, but it sure as hell hadn’t been this soul-deep loneliness. He turned back to Callie, buried in her Jeep, and wished she’d look at him, talk to him some more, even if it meant hearing more about his father and his life out here, which made him worse off than he’d even thought. “Callie—”

“Honestly. I’ve got this.”

“Right. Because God forbid you actually need anyone.”

She started to jerk upright again, but slowed down just before she hit her head. Looking greatly vexed, she eyed him. “What does that mean?”

“I think I scare you.” He had no idea why he was pushing this. Maybe it was the pain. Or sheer perversity and frustration. Pick one. “You’ve been burned and now you’re protecting yourself. I get that, but you still have to put it on the line and live.”

“And you’re the resident expert on this?”

“I’m not afraid, I’ll tell you that.”
Just lonely as hell.

She slapped a screwdriver against her thigh as she studied him. “You know, as fascinating as this conversation is, I have work.” She stepped around the lazy dog and hopped up into the driver’s seat, slamming the door.

“Please start,” she whispered to her beloved Jeep. “Please.” Because then she’d be able to drive away and forget the look on Jake’s face.

The look that had seemed an awful bit too close to desperation.

She didn’t want to think of him as being vulnerable. Hurting. She wanted him to remain as she’d conveniently filed him in her head—arrogant, conceited, and a pain in her ass, not to mention on the verge of selling the Blue Flame, her heart, her home.
That’s
how she wanted to think of him.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, and how he’d taken her right out of herself while he’d worshipped her body. And then there’d been his expression in the weight room, when she’d talked about Richard. He’d looked starved for the information, angry at wanting to hear more, and terrified he might feel something other than that anger and resentment for the father he’d never known.

He missed his life, and she knew he was afraid he’d never get it back, that he wouldn’t heal, that he couldn’t perform. That had softened her, when she hadn’t wanted to be softened.

Jake reached under the hood.

“Jake, move.”

“Wait.” He leaned in further. His shirt came untucked from his faded Levi’s.

Not that she noticed. To distract herself, she opened the door. “Shep. You coming or what?”

The old dog groaned, got to his feet.

“I wouldn’t bother, old buddy.” Jake reappeared and looked at Callie. “Someone pulled your coil wire.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s missing. You think Lou took it?”

“No. Why would he?” She hopped back out of the Jeep and looked under the hood again, unable to believe her eyes. Why hadn’t she seen this before? “No wonder I couldn’t start the thing.”

“Yeah. Callie—” He broke off at the sound of a truck rumbling up the driveway.

Michael’s Dodge. He got out of the truck and walked over to them. “Hey, babe,” he said, pulling Callie into a friendly embrace. Only a little taller than she, he was blond and blue-eyed, and so perfectly featured he should have been in the movies alongside other current hotties like Orlando Bloom. But financing was his thing and so was Arizona, and she was glad. He felt warm and familiar and safe as he hugged her, and she resisted the urge to put her head on his shoulder.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked, squeezing her gently.

She lifted her head and gave him a baffled smile. “I didn’t know you were picking me up. I was coming to meet you, but I have Jeep issues. Michael, this is Jake Rawlins.”

“Ah.” Michael shook Jake’s hand, his eyes assessing. “Figured I’d meet you sooner or later. What’s the matter with the Jeep, Callie?” He stuck his head under the hood. “Your coil wire is missing.”

“We know that much,” she said.

“We just don’t know why,” Jake said.

The two men looked at each other for a long moment, doing the size-the-other-man-up thing, and Callie barely resisted rolling her eyes. They were both incredibly good-looking men, and also incredibly different. Jake was taller, leaner, and definitely edgier, with an air of mystery Michael could never achieve. But truthfully, any man would have paled a little standing next to the sheer maleness of Jake.

“You shouldn’t let just anyone drive the thing,” Michael said to her. “I saw Stone in it last week, and Eddie in it yesterday getting gas for you. And you just let Lou tune it up. You do know why he was let go from Roger’s.”

“Yes, but he’s innocent of those charges.”

“Roger’s an ass,” Michael allowed. “Still, anyone could be messing with you. We can get a new coil wire in town after we eat.”

“Well, if Lou took it while he was working on the Jeep, he had a good reason. Maybe he’s just getting me a new one.” Callie turned to Jake. “I’ll be back. We’re just going to go over some financial—”

“No, we’re not. No wasting our lunch date on business talk.” Michael waved at Jake before leading her to his truck. “Everyone deserves a break, and that’s what this is. A lunch break.”

Callie craned her neck as she pulled on her seatbelt. Jake was already walking away. “Why did you do that?” she asked Michael when he got behind the wheel.

“Do what?”

“Let him think this is a date. It’s a working lunch, and you know it. I want to talk about getting a loan, and what I need—”

“He was looking at you funny. Like he wanted to gobble you up.” Michael’s searing blue eyes suddenly weren’t light and friendly, but protective. And worried. “You want to buy Blue Flame from that man? Then you want to be friendly but distant. Nice but cool.
Not
a pushover, and definitely not available.”

Callie shook her head, but laughed at his twisted logic. Being distant and cool just might keep her out of Jake’s arms. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I always am, babe. Always am.” He shoved the truck into gear and drove into town.

The Japanese businessmen left. That night, when Lou came back from town, Callie asked him about the coil wire.

“It was there when I was working on the Jeep,” he said with such confusion that she believed him. He went out to check for himself, and scratched his head. “That’s odd.”

More than odd, but she’d already picked up another coil wire, so she put it out of her head because her poor brain was too full to dwell.

A group of Tucson librarians came the next day for a ride to an abandoned ghost town, guided by Eddie and Stone. Stone had been sick in the morning but thankfully had recovered enough to take them. Callie had a bad feeling he’d simply been hungover yet again, but since he’d been able to do his job, she didn’t interfere.

While they were gone, Lou, Tucker, and Jake painted the barn. Lou worked on the inside, Jake and Tucker on the outside. Callie joined Lou until the fumes got to her, then moved outside in time to hear Jake telling Tucker about the coil wire. The two men looked at each other for a long moment.

Later Callie went in to get drinks and when she came out, she found them arguing.

“Something’s up,” Jake was saying. “I can feel it.”

“What’s up is your horrible painting,” Tucker said.

“I’m doing it left-handed. And you’re changing the subject.”

“I’m not sure it’d matter if you switched hands, bro.”

“I’m trying to talk about Callie.”

“Stow the save-the-world complex. Save it for firefighting.”

Jake stopped painting altogether at that and squared off to face Tucker. “You’re as bad as she is. Something’s going on out here. Don’t tell me you’re so selfish that you’d put your hatred of me before her safety.”

Tucker stopped painting, too, and dropped his brush into the paint. “No. Damn it. I’ll keep my eyes out for her.”

“Both of us will,” Jake said firmly.

“How about I keep my own eyes out for myself?” Callie handed them their drinks. “Because if something’s going on, and it would seem that it is, it couldn’t be about me.”

“How do you figure?” Jake asked. “Your horse, your Jeep.”

“The ranch.” She rubbed her temples. “It’s got to be about the ranch. Look, we’ll figure it out.” She could see the worry and strain in each of them and managed a smile she didn’t quite feel. What she did feel was a lump in her throat for these two tall, stubborn, beautiful men looking at her in mutual concern, not even realizing how alike they really were. “And anyway, we have much more to worry about.”

“Like?” Jake asked darkly.

“Like…” They both looked so serious. So intense. She wanted to change that. She wanted to see them laugh. Lifting her brush from the red paint tray, she turned to Tucker and dabbed it right in the middle of his chest.

Tucker sputtered.

Jake grinned.

“Oh, you like that?” she asked him silkily, and repeated the favor on his chest.

He looked down at the hand span-wide mark of red paint in shock. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Tucker moved behind her, gestured to Jake over her shoulder. She knew this because Jake’s face split into an evil grin. “Callie?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“You’ll want to run now,” he said softly.

Before she could, her arms were seized from behind by Tucker, and she was pulled back against his chest.

“Warned ya.” Jake reached down for his brush with his left hand and came up with that wicked smile. He stepped close.

Laughing, she tried to tug free from Tucker. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, I’m thinking about it. How about you, Tucker?”

“I’m thinking about it, too,” Tucker said in her ear.

“Don’t you dare—”

Jake painted a big X on her chest, taking his time about it, too.

Tucker let go of her, and the two of them looked at her and laughed uproariously.

She tried to remain indignant but the sight of these two men laughing, together, was a sight. Almost unbearably touched, she turned her back, not wanting them to see, but they only laughed harder.

Because she was also wearing the paint from the front of Tucker all down her back.

That night Callie spent some time in her office, working on the ranch’s books. Normally she loved this part of her job, being alone, entering numbers, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, but tonight she felt distracted and it wasn’t just the scent of paint still on her skin.

Michael had dropped off the loan application she’d requested. It was a few years early in her life plan, but her life plan had been altered. She’d talked to Michael about it in detail. As a solution, he’d offered her a job at his mortgage company, which she took to mean he didn’t think she could qualify for a loan.

The job was in data entry, a starter position, but she could make more money than here at the Blue Flame. He said she could rent one of the houses he owned in Three Rocks real cheap. He’d offered this countless times since Richard’s death, and she’d never even considered it. She didn’t now, either.

Alone, stressed and worried, she dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her temples. When the phone rang, she looked at the clock, startled to discover it was past nine already. “Blue Flame.”

“I’m looking for Tucker Mooney.”

The voice was feminine and carrying what Callie would have sworn was a fake English accent. Odd. Tucker had led a colorful early life, she knew this, but since he’d come here, he’d had no contact from anyone from that old life. That had been part of the deal when Jake had given him the job two years ago. He hadn’t looked back.