Tall, Dark and Cowboy (14 page)

When Chase stepped inside the trailer the next morning, the air was still alive with Lacey’s presence, shimmering with the promise of the night before. They hadn’t spoken when they parted. They’d barely spoken the whole time they’d been alone together. He stared out at the street, wondering if she’d tossed and turned and relived every moment of their union the way he had.

The way she’d gathered up her clothes and held him for a heartbeat before she stepped out the door had felt somehow final, as if she’d made up her mind to leave. He’d made up his mind too—he’d accept her decision. What he and Lacey had wasn’t something either of them could control. It was just
there
, and it always would be.

Wherever she went, a part of him would be with her.

The phone rang, shattering the silence, and he stepped over and picked it up, hoping it was her.

He dropped the receiver, then bobbled it twice before he managed to jam it under his jawline.

“Hey.” Casual, yet welcoming. Warm, but not so warm that it made rash assumptions. “Hey” wouldn’t scare her away.

He hoped.

But the voice on the line wasn’t Lacey. It was a man—a man with a gravelly voice and a distinct Southern twang he was clearly trying to cover up with some kind of fake English accent.

“Hello. Could I speak to Lacey, please?”

Lacey?

“Uh, no. She’s—not here.”

“Can you tell me when she’ll be in?”

Chase wished he knew the answer to that himself.

“No, I, uh…” Damn. He sounded like a true professional.

“She works there, right?”

Chase pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. Had Lacey been so sure of her reception from Chase that she’d told someone she had a job here? She must have known he’d jump through hoops for her in the end, just like he had when he was a kid. And she’d been right. It might have taken him a while to come around, but at this point, she could set the hoop on fire and hang it from the ceiling. He’d get through it somehow.

“No.” He tried to hide the note of regret in his voice. “She doesn’t work here.”

“But you know her, right?”

Chase felt a sudden surge of dread. He was pretty sure Lacey hadn’t told anyone she was coming to Grady. That had been the whole point, after all—that nobody would look for her here.

But someone was. And he’d almost given her away.

“Who were you looking for again?” he asked.

“Lacey Bradford,” the voice said. “Pretty lady, brown hair, nice tits?”

Chase resisted the impulse to respond to the coarse description. That wasn’t how he’d describe Lacey. Her smile, that’s what he always noticed. Her eyes. Although…

He set his mind back on track and spoke into the phone. Maybe if he played his part well enough, he could convince the caller he hadn’t known who he was talking about.

“Nice tits, huh? I’d remember that.” He huffed out a coarse laugh. “Haven’t seen her. Wish I had, buddy.”

“She might be calling herself Lacey Keene. You sure she doesn’t work there? This is the address I—the address she gave me. Maybe you just didn’t meet her yet. She would have started in the last week or so.”

“Nobody works here by that name,” Chase said. “I’m the owner.”

“Caldwell?”

He knew that voice. Was it Trent himself? He’d thought the guy had more class than to talk about a woman’s breasts, but maybe he was playing a part. He clenched the phone in his fist as if he could strangle the caller via long distance.

“Who is this?” he asked. “Do I know you?”

“No.” The denial was a little too loud. He did know this guy. He strained to catch the nuances of the voice and find something familiar. “This is her—her boyfriend. She left her husband, and I just want to find her and take care of her.” The caller was trying to sound compassionate, but what kind of boyfriend talks about his girlfriend’s breasts to strangers? And was it Chase’s imagination, or did the phrase “take care of her” have ominous undertones?

“Maybe you might have seen her around.”

“Nope,” Chase said. “Like I said, I’d have noticed if a new set rolled into town.” He sniggered out the nasty laugh again, playing his own part. “Haven’t seen her. I’ll be glad to call you if I do, though.” He glanced up at the old-fashioned phone hanging on the wall. He’d been meaning to get Caller ID. It would help him get back to customers who called with questions about a car, but he’d never gotten around to it. “You want to give me your number?”

There was a click, and the line went dead. Chase set the receiver gently in the cradle. Somebody was looking for Lacey. Somebody knew she was here.

And he was pretty sure it was Wade Simpson.

Grabbing his keys from the counter, he slammed the door behind him without locking it and sprinted across the street, taking the steps to the motel balcony two at a time.

***

Lacey was brushing her hair when someone knocked on the motel room door. The sound was soft, slow, and eerily reminiscent of Wade tapping on her door back home. She’d woken with light swirling inside her from the night before, but now dread closed in like darkness.

“Lacey.”
The voice was a harsh whisper.
“Lacey, I need to talk to you.”

She lifted her head and almost laughed. It was Chase. He couldn’t wait to see her. She put the brush down and headed for the door, popping up on her tiptoes to look through the peephole. He was standing with his hat in his hand, shifting from one foot to the other like a kid on his first date, but his expression was somber.

“It’s important, Lacey. I got a phone call. A call for you.”

“But nobody knows I’m here.” She swallowed a bolt of panic and opened the door, glancing left and right, the sweet warmth of the night before chilling to a feeling of being hunted. “Come in.”

“You’d better sit down,” he said, taking her elbow and guiding her toward the bed.

Bad idea. Her head and heart were already humming with just the awareness of where they were: a motel room. With a bed. Just one small step, one moment of weakness…

“No.” She shook him off. “Tell me about the phone call.”

“It was a man, asking for you.”

“A man?”

“He wouldn’t say who he was. But he asked for Lacey Bradford. I think it was Wade.”

She bit her lip, looking up into his eyes. She was sure he was telling the truth. But how could Wade know she was here?

“He thought you worked for me. He didn’t seem to believe me when I said you didn’t. He said you’d given him my address.”

“I didn’t give anyone… oh. Shit.”

Chase’s eyes widened, and Lacey realized she’d sworn. She normally tried not to, because her English teacher in eighth grade had said it indicated a lack of imagination. He said there were always better ways to express yourself than using four-letter words.

“Shit-fuck-damn,” she said. There. That had twelve letters.

Chase’s eyes widened more. “What, Lacey? What’s wrong?”

“I
did
give somebody that address.”

“My address? Who?”

“I don’t know who.” She sighed. “I got a credit card. I signed up for it from a mailing that came to my house. It’s in my name only—not Trent’s, not Mrs. Lacey Bradford. Just Lacey Bradford. I never told Trent about it, and I figured nobody would know about it to trace it.”

“Lacey, all he had to do was get your credit report.”

“What’s a credit report?” She felt hot tears stinging at the back of her eyes. She was so stupid. She didn’t know anything. She’d figured that as long as they didn’t know she had an account with MagiCard, Trent’s former pals wouldn’t be able to trace it.

“A credit report tells what money you owe, and whether you’re current on your bills.”

“But I am current on it. The bill won’t even come for two weeks.” She looked down at the ground. “One week now. And I didn’t charge anything. I wasn’t going to leave the bill for you to pay or anything. I figured I’d have a place to live by then.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re current or not. Your credit report tells what lines of credit you’ve opened. What cards you’ve applied for.”

“So just anybody can get this report and find out my private financial information?”

“Not anybody, but almost. A landlord. A bank. A car dealer.”

“A cop?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Probably.”

“Shit.” She collapsed on the bed, covering her face with her hands. She had no car, no money, no place to go, and she couldn’t stay in Grady. She could run like a rabbit, off across the plains, but there was no hidey-hole out there for her. And if Wade didn’t find her, she’d die of sheer nervousness worrying about the possibility. “Now what am I going to do?”

“Well, you can’t stay in Grady.”

She was surprised at the anger, despair, and hopelessness she felt at the truth of that statement. She’d been in Grady less than a week, but she’d miss it more than she missed home. She had a friend here—a place in the world.

“But I can’t just leave,” she said. “There’s Annie. And Pam.”
And
you
, she thought.
You
most
of
all.

“Lacey, I know.” He sat down beside her, and she leaned into him, wondering if he really did know. If he understood the words she’d left unspoken. “But you have to get out of town.” She felt the mattress shift as he settled beside her and his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

She knew she should shrug him off, but she needed him, just for a minute. She let herself tilt sideways, her head resting on the hollow below his shoulder. He turned his head so that his lips were inches from her hair. As he spoke, she could feel the warmth of his breath, the stirring of her hair as he said the words.

“Come home with me.”

She felt a surge of relief wash over her like a wave. She could go home with Chase. She could hide there, and he’d take care of her, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. She could just depend on Mr. Dependable, like she’d planned on in the first place.

Fighting the undertow, she floundered to the surface and shook off the urge. Going home with Chase wasn’t a solution. For one thing, they’d find her. They had the car lot address—it would only take them a quick hop, skip, and jump to find his house. And more important, she’d be breaking her promise to herself—the promise she’d made when Chase himself pointed out that she’d always depended on a man. Surely she could do better than that.

They had the address from the credit card, so it wouldn’t hurt to charge on it now, as long as she was leaving. She could get a cash advance and take off, head to Denver, get another cheap motel room, and find a job. She could disappear into the city. They’d never find her.

If only she had a way to get there. She glanced across the street at her Mustang, still parked in front of Chase’s trailer.

“Did Jeb ever look at my car?”

“Not yet.” Chase gave her a wry smile. “I think he was too busy screwing my sales associate.”

She sighed.

“Lacey, running isn’t the answer anyway. Where would you go? Come stay with me.”

“They’ll find your address.”

“The ranch doesn’t have an address. The deed’s not even registered to me.”

“I thought it was your ranch.”

“It is. But I registered it in the name of my corporation.”

“Which is?”

He flushed. “Princess LLC.”

“You named your corporation after your
goat
?”

“Hey, Princess meant a lot to me. You wouldn’t laugh if I named it after my dog.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” She giggled.

“But it’s not something anyone else would connect with me.”

She scanned him from head to foot—the tousled, sun-bleached hair, the rugged cheekbones and square jaw, the broad shoulders narrowing to slim hips—and she had to agree.

“No, you’ve got a point.” She couldn’t help smiling. “You’re definitely no princess.”

“Look, you can earn your keep if you want.” Chase held up both palms in a “stop” gesture before she could protest. “I don’t mean like that. You could actually work for me. I could give you a job. You know I fired Krystal, so I don’t have anyone to watch the lot anymore.”

“I can’t do that. That’s right where…”

“I know you can’t stay in town. But without Krystal to watch the store, I’ll have to spend more time at the lot, and I’m already away from the ranch too much. If you stay out there and do some chores for me, it would actually help a lot. I’ll pay you what I paid Krystal, but you can work there instead of in town.”

She shook her head. “Chase, I don’t know anything about ranching.”

“It’s not rocket science.” He tensed his hand on her thigh. “You’re smart, Lacey. You’ll catch on fast.”

She blinked. That comment meant way too much to her. She almost asked him to repeat it. That was pitiful.

She’d been confident once, so sure of herself. The top of the pyramid.

What had Trent done to her?

She looked down at Chase’s hand resting on her thigh. Didn’t he realize he was touching her? That slow warmth crept across her skin, moving upward from the spot where his hand lay.

“It’s hard work, but you might like it. You like horses?”

She shrugged. “I guess. I used to go to the racetrack with my dad.”

“Then you’ll be fine. And being alone at the ranch would beat being all alone on the road, with no money and a broken-down car.”

She realized he was right. Being alone didn’t scare her. At least when she was alone, she was with someone she could trust. But being broke was a problem, especially with her automotive issues.

She’d sworn she wouldn’t trust a man again, and she’d made that vow in a moment of clear rationality. A moment when Chase wasn’t sitting right beside her, the warm patch on her leg lingering after the touch of his hand. Her impulse was to trust him. Her impulse was to lean toward him, let him touch her again—but that would be surrender. She wondered if he could follow the complicated ribbon of her thoughts, unspooling and tangling, snarling into knots.

“I shouldn’t. I can get a cash advance and get out of town before they track me. I’ll go to Denver.”

He went to the window, staring out at the parking lot. “Lacey, if you go, I won’t know where you are. I won’t know if you’re alive or dead, if you’re safe or if they found you. I have to do more than that for you.”

“That’s for me to decide.”

“Look, a week ago you
begged
me for a place to stay,” he said. “I don’t get it. You would have jumped at the chance then.”

“I never begged for anything. And that was before I got to know you.”

“You always knew me.”

“No.” She shook her head. This was one thing she was sure of. “I knew the old Chase,” she said. “That sweet, awkward kid back in high school.”

“I’m still that kid,” he said. “Still awkward.”

She looked him up and down. He was wrong. He was no kid, and there was nothing awkward about the way he stood, feet planted, arms crossed over his chest. She scanned his jaw, stubbled with a day’s unshaven beard, and the way his arms swelled from the sleeves of his T-shirt. His jeans, the worn denim at the fly emphasizing the decidedly un-kid-like developments that had taken place since she’d known him before. Suddenly, the room seemed smaller and hotter, and she realized she was staring at his crotch. She flicked her gaze to his face and felt a blush warming her chest and cheeks.

This was a whole new kind of awkward.

He sat down beside her and put one arm around her shoulders. Next thing she knew, his hand was on her thigh again and his face was close to hers.

“You need help, Lacey. There’s no shame in that.”

She stiffened at his touch, sitting rigid against him, but he just pulled her closer and rocked slightly from side to side in a soothing, rhythmic motion. She couldn’t help laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. “Don’t worry, Lace. Trust me. Let me help.”

“I’m not worried.” She relaxed just the slightest bit as he patted her shoulder. “I’m just sad. I don’t want to leave. Pam and I are making friends. I never really had a girlfriend before.” She sighed. “Not a real one.” She pressed her cheek against his chest. “You must think I’m pathetic. That I never had a girlfriend before when I had all that money.”

“Money isn’t everything.” He brushed his lips against the top of her head. “I don’t think you had a chance.”

“I had one.” She put her arms around his waist and gave in to his embrace. “Everybody does. I just didn’t take it.”

“
This
is a chance, Lacey. Take it. Come to the ranch.”

She didn’t want to depend on him—but maybe she really could help. He was a man living alone. It would be nice for him to have someone to cook and clean, someone to come home to. She’d make herself useful, just like she had for Trent—cooking, cleaning, being supportive. She’d even do some ranch work. It would be fun.

And as long as she stayed out of his bedroom, it would be safe.

“All right. I’ll go. But only as an employee. No hanky-panky with the boss.” She took his hand and set it firmly in his own lap. “Chase, last night was—well, it was good.”

He’d been staring down at his hand, but now his gaze angled up toward hers, and he smiled. “Good?”

“Better than good. But if I go stay with you, and we keep—you know.” She waved her hand in a gesture that joined his body to hers. “If we keep doing that, I’ll end up falling into another relationship. Depending on you.”

“I don’t mind,” he said.

“But I do. If we’re ever going to have a chance, I have to be on my own for a while. You know, I’ve never had my own place. My own job. My own life. I need to do that.” She sighed. “I’ll stay for a few days. But let’s cool it, okay?”

Chase nodded his agreement, but somehow the atmosphere in the room didn’t feel the slightest bit cool. It felt warm—warm with promises of tomorrow, with memories of the night before, and with his presence right there, right now.

***

Chase squelched a series of inappropriate reactions to the idea of Lacey coming to the ranch. He ran through elation, excitement, and anticipation, settling on urgency as an appropriate response. He was just keeping her safe. Even if Wade had found her in Grady, he wasn’t likely to find the ranch. Looking north from town, all you could see were miles and miles of vacant ground. The only relief from the interminable isolation was an occasional rock and a faint line of blue mountains bordering the horizon in the distance.

And anyone coming to the ranch had to pass Galt’s place first, which meant crossing acres of scrub and near-desert on dusty dirt roads. Galt’s land was so bleak and worn-out, most people would be clinically depressed by the time they made it to Chase’s.

But lonesome was how he liked it. In fact, if it had been anyone but Lacey, he would have regretted having to share his solitude. Krystal had proven that a woman would just be in the way.

But Lacey? That was different. A thousand unlikely scenarios leaped to mind. She’d fall in love with the place. She’d fall into his bed. She’d fall in love with him and stay forever.

That would make him happy. Really happy, for the first time in years.

Or would it?

They could only rehash the old days for so long, and once that was done, they’d have nothing to talk about. She wouldn’t want to talk about crops and cattle, and he wouldn’t want to talk about clothes and whatever else women like Lacey were interested in.

The thought rebounded, bouncing back to what he wanted to believe. They didn’t really need to talk, did they? They hadn’t talked last night, and they’d communicated just fine.

She startled him out of his thoughts by jerking to her feet. “I need to pack. I’ll be ready in a minute.” She bent over the bed, folding a pink flowered shirt and a pair of jeans.

Good. She had jeans. Appropriate ranch wear. Her cotton pants looked nice, but the jeans would skim her curves and stretch when she moved. They’d be harder to get off, though.

He closed his eyes tight, just for a moment, trying to change his way of thinking. Lacey wanted him to cool it, and he needed to respect that.

She bent to lift her suitcase off the floor, and he shoved off the wall.

“I’ll get that.”

The two of them almost knocked heads as he bent down beside her and grabbed the handle. She looked up, startled, and for a moment, her wide eyes met his. A bolt of attraction and lust rocketed straight to his groin, and he stepped back, almost knocking her down as he lifted the suitcase. It tilted and dumped its contents onto the floor.

“Sorry.” He knelt to gather the spilled clothes, grabbing a handful of silky undergarments that slipped through his fingers as he lifted them to the bed. They fell onto the bed and slid to the floor in a flowered, polka-dotted, lace-bedecked mass.

“I can get them.” Lacey ducked down to get the clothes, and he backed away, unwilling to let her kneel at his feet. He stood awkwardly against the wall and tried to concentrate on the splotchy painting of a Spanish matador that hung over the bed. The guy was flailing around with a red cape and wore a desperate expression on his mustachioed face. Chase could identify with the guy. Trying to control his own libido in Lacey’s presence was like trying to master a charging bull with nothing but a pair of red silk panties.