The Bull Rider's Manager (8 page)

BOOK: The Bull Rider's Manager
3.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

A small, tan dog stood at the end of the bed and growled.

“Bella, no.” A blonde girl sat up in bed, patting the covers next to her. The dog responded, but kept watching Barb. “Are you a babysitter?”

Barb moved closer to the bed and put the tray over Kati’s legs. “I’m a friend of your uncle’s. He’s not feeling well so I’m going to stay for a little bit.”

“I made him sick.” Kati sank into her pillows. “I brought this crud home from school and gave it to Uncle Hunter.

“No one makes anyone else sick on purpose. It just happens.” Barb straightened the pillows around the little girl. She was way too thin. JR was at least a year younger and probably double this girl’s size. “You need to eat. Do you want something else?”

Kati shook her head. “This is fine.” She picked up her spoon and took a sip of the soup. Her eyes widened and she dropped the spoon. “I forgot. Thank you for bringing me food.”

“You are most welcome. But you need to eat. Thanking me isn’t going to get some meat on your bones. And if you don’t eat, you won’t get better.” Barb brushed a lock of wayward hair out of Kati’s eyes.

“Then I’ll go to heaven with my mommy and daddy.”

The pain in Kati’s eyes broke Barb’s heart. “And your uncle and grandpa would be very sad. So instead, we’re going to eat and get better, right?”

A slight smile crossed Kati’s face. “I’ll try.”

“I’ll tell you what, after I deliver your uncle’s tray, I’m going back into that kitchen and making brownies.” Barb sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you like brownies?”

Kati nodded. “My mom and I used to make them every Sunday.”

“Well, I’m not sure I can make them as good as your mom did, but I’ll do my best.” Barb handed Kati her spoon back. “Now get eating before your soup gets cold.”

Barb sat and watched the little girl for a few seconds, and watched the dog watching Kati eat too. She’d check out the kitchen and make sure the dog food bowl was filled before she left too. Who knows how long Hunter had been out of it.

“I’ll be back later.” Barb walked to the door.

“Tell Uncle Hunter I hope he feels better soon,” Kati called out.

No doubt about it, the kid was a charmer. Barb smiled as she headed back to the kitchen for Hunter’s lunch.

Hunter was already asleep when Barb slipped into his room. This room looked like Hunter. Deep green bedspread that matched his drapes, mahogany furniture, and large in-suite bathroom to the side. Definitely designed by someone, not Hunter.

She sat the tray of food on the nightstand and covered him with the bedspread, once again struck by how handsome the man was, even without that killer smile. No, living with this Adonis for the rest of her life wouldn’t be that much of a hardship. Her thoughts traveled back to their night together and she smiled. Too bad their marriage was just a fairy tale — as soon as Hunter got better, the dream would be over in one fell swoop of the pen.

Barb turned off the lights and walked back into the kitchen to grab her cell. “Hey, Lizzie, I’m staying in town for a couple days.” She paused, listening to the other end. “I’ll call the home right now. What exactly did he say?”

As she listened, her heart sank. Jerry Jones, the manager of the Countryside home had called to make payment arrangements. And according to what he’d told Lizzie, putting a lien off her mother’s house was off the table. Barb would have to guarantee her mother’s stay with some other form of collateral.

She ended the conversation with Lizzie after refusing to get James and the business involved. “You guys have too much on your plate as it is, you don’t need to be getting into debt for me.”

Hanging up the phone, she called and basically had the same conversation with Mr. Jones. Except she got a month reprieve. If she could come up with the down payment by the end of the month, her mom would be allowed to stay. If not, well, he was sorry, but they’d lost too much money using homes in the sinking real estate market as collateral lately. It wasn’t personal.

Barb hung up the phone and started pulling out supplies to make the brownies. Hell yeah, it was personal. They’d had an agreement. Sure, she’d never signed papers, but still.

Barb focused on the comforting routine of baking, something Lizzie’s mom had taught the girls every winter Saturday when they couldn’t take the horses out. Barb had loved spending time with Lizzie and her mom. Lizzie’s home was so different from Barb’s. Lizzie’s was warm and friendly. Barb’s perfect and untouchable.

Checking the cabinets and fridge, Barb got a chicken ready to roast, peeled potatoes for mashing, and made a fresh garden salad. Hunter must have a standing delivery order from the local grocer because the fridge was bursting to the seams with food. Barb thought of her tiny condo kitchen back in San Francisco and how little time she spent there. This kitchen she could spend days in. Maybe even bake her own bread.

When the brownies were cooling on the granite countertop, she turned on the teakettle to heat up water and when to check on Kati. The little girl was sound asleep and her food gone. Bella opened her eyes and yawned as Barb took the tray away. “You help her finish her soup?”

The dog had the good graces to look guilty as she followed Barb out to the kitchen. There was a dog door in the back door and Bella slipped out. Barb watched her wander the backyard, sniffing at the dollhouse near the garden, slipping through the swing set on the lawn and then walking around the fenced pool until she disappeared behind what appeared to be a small pool shed. The kid wanted for nothing, unless you counted her parents.

Barb rinsed the dishes, placed them into the dishwasher, and went to peek in on Hunter. The man had eaten his soup but the rest of the food still sat on his tray. She decided not to venture back into his bedroom, that way her fingers wouldn’t be tempted to curl through his hair or touch his bare chest. No, she should just stay away from the bedroom.

Barb finished getting dinner going in the kitchen and, having nothing else to do while the chicken baked and the potatoes cooked, she went to find a book to read while she waited.

Two hours later, she sat curled up on the sofa, deep into a mystery that she’d found on Hunter’s well-stocked bookshelves.

“Something smells amazing.” Hunter’s voice surprised her. Glancing up, she saw he’d showered and dressed, the color returned to his face.

“You look better.” She held the book up. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve been meaning to get this, but kept missing the bookstore when I got into town. And the airport stores only carry the bestsellers.”

“I read everything he writes.” Hunter slipped onto the couch next to her. “The clerk over at Little Town Bookstore calls my office when he releases a new book.”

“I met him once.”

The look on Hunter’s face made her giggle. “Get out of here.”

“Seriously. I was waiting for a flight out of San Francisco to South Dakota, I think. Or at least that was my ultimate destination. I changed planes three times that flight.” Barb put a bookmark in the book and sat it on the coffee table. “I was reading one of his books and he sat next to me. He held out a pen and asked if I wanted him to sign.”

“And did he?”

Barb smiled. “He did. He signed his name and cell number for the next time I was in New York.”

Hunter leaned his head back on the couch. “Some pick up line. Hi, I’m a world famous multi-published author. Call me sometime.”

“I bet it works for him.”

Hunter stared at her, hunger in his eyes. “Did it?”

“I never got to New York.”

“You could still go,” he pressed.

“I think I lost the book.”

“That’s good to know.” Hunter squinted at her. “Why exactly are you here?”

“Gratitude isn’t one of your strong points, is it?” Barb leaned over and put her hand on his forehead. “You’re still running a fever. Did you take something?”

“Not that I remember.” Hunter sat up straight. “Kati’s sick. I’ve got to check on her.”

Barb put a hand on his arm. “She’s fine. Last time I checked on her, she was asleep. Her fever’s broken and now she’s just resting. The poor kid’s pretty skinny. Does she eat at all?”

Hunter’s head returned to the back of the couch. “Not much. A lot of ice cream. I can get her to eat ice cream.”

“Well, she ate the bowl of soup, the bread, and the Jell-O for lunch. Although I think Bella ate most the bread.”

Hunter’s eyes opened. “How’d you get her to eat?”

“I promised brownies. I guess she likes them better than ice cream.” Barb stood up. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to eat at the table or in here?”

“Table’s fine. I don’t let Kati eat in front of the television. I guess I should follow my own rules.” Hunter started to stand. “You want me to get her?”

“Let her sleep. She’ll come out when she wakes up.” Barb pulled him to his feet. “Dining room or kitchen table?”

“Kitchen, definitely.” He pulled her toward him and they both fell backwards into the couch. His gaze was smoldering. “Or right here.”

“We’re not going there again.” Barb’s heart raced. She couldn’t believe how their bodies fit together, even right now.

“Married people do.”

Barb pulled away from him and stood next to the couch. “That’s just it, we’re not married.”

“We are in the eyes of the good people of the state of Nevada.”

“It was a mistake.” Barb thought she saw Hunter flinch at that comment. “I mean, we didn’t plan on getting married. It was a spur of the moment thing.”

Hunter stood and walked unsteadily toward the kitchen. “No one plans on falling in love, Barb.”

She felt like she was rooted to the ground. Falling in love? He couldn’t be in love with her. They’d just met. The man was running a fever. Delirious.

Barb followed Hunter into the kitchen and started putting the food on serving dishes. Hunter was setting the table for three. They worked together, silently, like they’d been doing the same routine for years. When they finally sat, Hunter carved the chicken and looked at her. “White or dark?”

“White, please.” She held her breath as he laid a slice of chicken on her plate. This was too comfortable. Too much like watching Lizzie and James together after a year. The only thing missing was JR. As if Barb’s thoughts about a missing child had called her, Kati shuffled into the room.

“Hey, pumpkin. Come eat dinner with us.”

And she did.

Kati chatted away the rest of the dinner, allowing Barb to focus on something else besides the picture-perfect scene in front of her. A life she craved. After Kati had left the table with Bella at her heels to get ready for bed, Hunter glanced up at her. The fatigue in his face frightened her and she made a quick decision.

“Hey, by the time I get this kitchen cleaned up and the food put away it will be kind of late. Do you mind if I crash on your couch?” Barb took her plate to the sink.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“Lizzie’s mom said you make the mess, you clean the mess.” Barb chuckled. “My mom always said order Chinese.”

“I didn’t mean the dishes. You don’t have to sleep on the couch.” Hunter stood behind her, his and Kati’s plates in his hand.

A shiver ran up Barb’s spine. She could feel the heat of his body and was afraid to turn around. Afraid he’d kiss her if she did. Terrified she’d kiss him.

When he didn’t say anything else, she finally turned. He was back at the table. “I think it would be better … ”

“I have a guest room, you know.” He picked a piece of meat off the chicken platter. “This is good. I never can get the skin this crunchy.”

Barb took the mashed potatoes and scraped them into a plastic storage container. “Believe me, it took a lot of trial and error. I’m working my way through the Betty Crocker cookbook, one page at a time.”

“You’d never know it.” Hunter wiped the now empty table with a hot, soapy rag. “Kati and I appreciate dinner and all, but I can handle it from here.”

His eyes told a different story. Barb shrugged. “I guess I’m calling marital privilege then. I don’t want to drive up to Shawnee tonight so I’m staying over. Besides, we have some business to discuss tomorrow and I have to finish getting mom signed into Countryside.”

“I just don’t want you thinking I need you here or something.” Hunter’s voice faded. The man was almost asleep on his feet.

“Don’t worry, big man. I know you don’t need me.” Barb nodded to the hallway. “Now you go get in bed before you pass out and I have to cover you up with a blanket on the kitchen floor.”

Hunter grinned, but nodded. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She turned the faucet on in the sink.

“Barb?”

Turning around she saw him leaning against the doorway.

“You okay?” She put her hand back on the faucet handle, ready to go help.

“I’m fine. I wanted to tell you thanks. Today, dinner, Kati, thanks for everything.” Hunter turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Barb shook her head and started rinsing dishes to put into the dishwasher, pretending for a moment that this was her kitchen and the man and child in the other room were her family.

Pretending until tomorrow.

Chapter 8

When Hunter shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee, he was surprised by three things. The coffee was already made. A basket of fresh baked banana nut muffins sat on the counter. And Barb Carico sat at the kitchen table in his old BSU tee shirt and jean shorts. The woman took his breath away whether she was dressed up and sporting those do-me pumps or in grubbies and barefoot. It didn’t matter. He knew he had it bad. The fact she could cook and Kati liked her just made everything worse.

He poured his coffee and slipped into a chair next to her. “Working?”

Barb leaned back in her chair, tossing her pen next to her laptop. “Dreaming.”

Hunter frowned. “You want to explain?”

Barb got up and refilled her cup. “Let’s just say my financial net worth isn’t where I need it to be to get the loan I need. The drop in the housing market has put a kink in my plans.”

“You buying or selling?” For the first time in days, Hunter’s head felt clear. He broke open the muffin he’d grabbed and spread butter on the still-warm insides.

BOOK: The Bull Rider's Manager
3.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

If We Lived Here by Lindsey Palmer
Officer in Pursuit by Ranae Rose
Stormwalker by Allyson James
How to Meditate by Pema Chödrön
Running with the Demon by Terry Brooks
Bush Studies by Barbara Baynton