Читать книгу Convincing the Rancher - Claire McEwen - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

TESS WASN’T PREPARED for a Jeep that looked like an ice sculpture. With a pang of longing, she pictured her underground parking space in San Francisco, where even on the rare frosty morning she never had to worry about a frozen car. Reluctantly she opened her wallet and stared at her rainbow assortment of credit cards, wondering which one she could sacrifice as an ice scraper. The Saks Fifth Avenue card was nice and thick and would work the best, but she didn’t want to risk ruining it. Same with Bloomingdale’s. And there was no way she’d sacrifice Nordstrom—their annual shoe sale was coming up.

She finally settled for Talbots and started scraping at the frosted windshield. The ice came off in a spray coating her bare skin. “Ow!” she exclaimed and pulled her hand away abruptly, shaking it to try to get the frost off and the heat back in.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t bring gloves?” The deep voice had her whirling to confront the mayor. He looked warm and comfortable, his thick parka advertising the fact that he was prepared for the weather. The battered leather cowboy hat on his head was one more reminder that she’d left San Francisco far behind.

“It’s probably seventy degrees at home today,” she said by way of an answer.

“It’s seventy degrees in San Francisco most days. Didn’t you check the weather report before you drove out here?”

She hadn’t. She’d been in denial until she’d pulled into town yesterday. Despite all the arguments with Ed and the cramming she’d done to understand wind power, she’d ignored the fact that she’d be living in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere for the next month or so. Tess could safely say that denial was one of her strongest abilities.

But now there was no denying two things: she was totally unprepared for the weather in Benson, and Slaid Jacobs was one of the most attractive men she’d ever laid eyes on. The navy blue of his parka somehow made his gray eyes even more vibrant, and his broad shoulders filled out the jacket well. He’d tucked his dark denim jeans into brown suede work boots, laced up casually over the cuffs. He was perfectly at home in the cold, in comparison to her shivering self.

She wouldn’t be here shivering if he was chivalrous. If he hadn’t insisted that she stay in town. He might be good-looking, but right now she kind of hated him.

If he noticed, he gave no sign. “Tess, an idea. We’ve got a shop here that sells all kinds of outdoor gear. Let’s leave the car and walk over there. We can have our meeting as we go and you can get set up with the right clothing. You can’t survive out here in that thin wool coat.”

His voice was smooth and rich, like coffee. Like the espresso she couldn’t have this morning because she was stuck in Benson.

“Is this your idea of a peace offering?”

He gave that slow, widening smile she’d noticed right away when she’d first seen him at the bar in Phoenix. It had done things to her then and it was having the same effect now. “Maybe it is. I don’t know you too well, but you seem like someone who might like to shop. Plus, you look really cold.”

Tess glanced down at her beloved gray Burberry, with the nipped-in waist and shiny black buttons, and sighed. The last thing she wanted was a shopping trip with Slaid, or a parka like his, but he was right about one thing—she was freezing. “Fine,” she agreed. “Lead the way.”

He held out his hand, and to her horror she almost took it. Slaid jerked his hand back before she could and shoved it in his pocket, obviously embarrassed, too. This was ridiculous. How were they supposed to work together?

She stumbled along next to him, her brain a chaotic mélange of feeling. Anger that he’d pressured her to stay in Benson, horror that her past had come back to haunt her and her natural appreciation of a gorgeous guy. Memories of what had happened between them that night in Phoenix scrambled her thoughts further. The images and sensations showed up like random jolts of electricity, leaving her nerve endings sizzling and frayed.

If she could just turn off those memories and focus on work and only work, she might be able to think coherently.

She tried to keep up with his long strides in her stiletto boots and keep an eye on the sidewalk, stepping over anything that looked like ice. She could endure a lot, but falling in front of Slaid might be her breaking point.

She didn’t know what to do, so she did what she was best at. She went into business mode. “So thank you for taking his meeting with me...again. As I told you yesterday, I’m in town because I work for a public relations firm that has been hired by Renewable Reliance.”

“Yes, the wind project,” he said, his voice as dry as the desert. “I remember.”

She plowed on. “I’m in charge of community relations.”

“Well, you’re off to a great start. Considering that you’ve already had relations with the town mayor.”

Tess stopped abruptly as the initial hurt turned to fury. “Is this how you’re going to handle this? Did you want me to stay so you can be self-righteous and hold that night over my head? Because I seem to remember that I wasn’t alone in that hotel room. In fact, you invited me back to your room.”

Slaid stared at the ground, and they walked a few steps in awkward silence. Then he broke it. “I was rude. It was a stupid thing to say. We agreed to keep things professional and I dropped the ball. It won’t happen again.”

She was momentarily disarmed by his apology. “Well, it was a fumble, but maybe you can recover.”

He looked at her in surprise. “You know football?”

She needed a cordial relationship with him to make any progress with the community, which is how she justified her little white lie. “Sure. Some. I’m a San Franciscan. We love our Forty-Niners.”

“So much that you ran ’em out of town.”

Tess stared at him a moment, racking her brain for what she knew about the football team—something to explain his comment. A lightbulb lit in some dim corner of her mind. San Franciscans hadn’t been able to agree on replacing foggy and crumbling Candlestick Park, and a neighboring city had happily jumped in to build the football team a new stadium. She gave a little laugh of relief. “Oh, yes. They’re the Santa Clara Forty-Niners now. It doesn’t have quite the same ring.”

“But they’re keeping their old name, right?”

“Oh, right. Of course.” She was the one fumbling here. Hoping he’d attribute her red cheeks to the wind, she switched back to the topic she actually knew something about. “About the windmills— My job will be to interface with the community and make sure you, and the people of Benson, have up-to-date information about the project. I’ll be responsible for presenting the environmental impact reports and creating opportunities for public input.”

“And if I tell you that the only input the people of Benson will give you is a resounding no?”

“Then my job is to tell you that you’re putting the cart in front of the horse. Renewable Reliance has a right to perform this exploratory process. They’ve already been granted the necessary permits from the Bureau of Land Management. And there will be plenty of opportunities for you and the citizens here to weigh in.”

“But personally, you think this project is bogus.”

“There is no personally. I’m here to do my job—to present information about the project to the public. I don’t weigh in on the projects I represent.”

“But, I take it, the information you present will be your client’s side of the story.”

“Of course. But it will be a true story. Just the facts.”

“Facts can be bent.”

“By everyone involved,” she argued, “including you.” She wanted to kick herself as soon as she said it. What was it about Slaid that made her lose her cool? She should be buttering him up right now, making him and his town feel special, lucky to be chosen as the site of a wind farm. Instead she was trading insult for insult.

They’d reached the door for Benson Wilderness Outfitters, and Slaid grasped the handle and pulled it open for her, but his expression was far from chivalrous. “I don’t bend facts,” he said.

“Well, neither do I.” He waited and she waited, hands on her hips. Finally a slight smile of dawning understanding curved one corner of his full mouth. “You’re not going to let me open this door for you, are you?”

“You go ahead,” she answered. “I can get my own doors.” She didn’t want his bogus chivalry, but if he waited any longer she’d have to give in. She was rapidly going numb, and she craved the warmth she knew would be inside the shop.

“Stubborn much?”

“It’s considered an asset in my field.”

“I’ll bet.” Slaid went in first, letting the door swing shut behind him. Tess grabbed the handle and jerked it open again, relieved to feel the warm air on her frozen face.

Slaid walked partway across the shop, then turned to face her. “So you’re pretty good at your job? That’s why they sent you out here?”

“That’s what my boss told me, but I think he was just desperate to get someone out here to this godforsaken place.”

“Oh, no, not godforsaken.” Slaid’s smile was suddenly gentle. “Spend some time out here in these hills and mountains, and you’ll know we’re right in the heart of God’s country.”

“I may have to pass on that opportunity, Mr. Mayor. Trekking the great outdoors is not my style. Plus, I doubt that God would welcome a poor sinner like me strolling around his chosen land.”

Slaid laughed and pointed to a wall of outdoorsy-looking boots, similar to his own. “Why don’t you get some more practical shoes anyway, just in case God’s a little more welcoming than you give him credit for?”

Despite all the tension between them, Tess had to laugh at that. She went over to study the boots, wondering which ones were the least ugly. This was strange. She’d never had a business meeting that involved shopping before. And she’d never have guessed Slaid would be so helpful. He quickly pointed out the most feminine and classy looking of all the hiking boots on the wall, and also found her some wool socks to try them on with. Then he came back with another pair of boots for wearing around town—knee-high black leather with a sturdy rubber sole and low heel. The kind of boots a lot of women were wearing to stride around San Francisco these days, though so far Tess had passed on the trend. But once she slid them on over the wool socks, she knew her style was going to change, at least for now. They were comfortable and, more important, warm.

Then Slaid wandered over with a knee-length down coat in a rich, dark teal blue with fake fur lining a generous hood. Tess slid it on and was pleased to see that it was actually cut in a feminine line, not too thick and bulky. He handed her a sweet, matching teal wool hat and another one in black. He had her choose two kinds of gloves—black fleece for everyday and another pair, more like ski gloves, for when it snowed. Tess hoped she’d be long gone from Benson before that happened. After a couple of turtleneck sweaters were added to the pile, Tess stared at Slaid in awe. “You are a way better shopper than most of my girlfriends!”

He grinned. “I have a teenage son. I’m used to shopping quickly, before he gets too mopey.”

She kept forgetting he had a son. Of course she did. She knew almost nothing about Slaid, except what Samantha had told her and what he looked like naked...and wanting. Tess quickly pushed that image from her mind, but not before it heated her face. She turned to a rack of scarves and studied them intently.

“How about that eggplant color,” Slaid suggested. “Or the dark blue, to match your eyes. They really are so blue they’re almost purple, aren’t they?”

“The eggplant might go best with the teal coat.”

He picked up the scarf and gently wrapped it around her neck. His fingers brushed the skin there and she shivered, fighting the sudden urge to lean into them. “Yep. Your eyes are almost purple.”

She looked up then. His expression had grown serious, his voice soft. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.” He was so close she could kiss him if she just leaned forward a few inches.

“And that is totally inappropriate,” she reminded him, and herself, pulling away abruptly. But some strange fragment of her heart fluttered at his words. And she realized that by never sticking around to get to know the men she slept with, she’d missed out on little compliments like this. And another thought flickered. What else had she missed out on? She turned away and went to the front of the store, loading her items on the counter.

The clerk was on a ladder, hanging up climbing ropes on a high rack near the door. Slaid wandered up next to her and called, “Harris, this is Tess Cole. She’s in town for a while and needed some warmer clothes.”

Harris turned and grinned. “Hey, Slaid.” The man climbed down and surveyed the pile of clothes. “Gotta make sure you’re layered up for the mountains. You be careful out here, Tess. The weather can change on a dime, and you can count on some pretty cold nights this time of year.”

“It’s hard to believe I’m just a day’s drive from San Francisco.”

“A day’s drive but a world away.” Harris smiled as he loaded the clothes into a big paper bag.

“You’re not kidding.” Tess handed him her credit card, feeling hollow at his words. A world away and not the world she wanted to be in.

She sighed, unbuttoning her beloved wool coat and folding it carefully for Harris to put in the shopping bag. She slid her arms into the new parka, vowing to smack Slaid if he tried to help her into it, and ignoring the tiny twinge of disappointment that winged through her when he didn’t. Zipped into the fluffy down, she was incredibly cozy, but all that puffiness felt a bit like she was wearing a spacesuit—as if she needed another reminder that she was in an alien environment.

But as soon as she stepped outside she was grateful for the down barrier between her and that crisp cold. They started along Main Street, back toward Tess’s little cottage.

“I’m a little apprehensive to continue our meeting,” Slaid said. “It seems as though when I’m around you, my foot goes in my mouth and I say the wrong thing. I’m sorry.”

“Let just focus on work,” Tess said. “Let’s forget about that night two years ago. It doesn’t matter, it’s irrelevant.”

“Right.” Slaid nodded, but he gave her a slightly quizzical look. “Completely irrelevant.”

“Yes.” She hoped she could follow her own advice. His moments of kindness and humor had her a little worried, too. She couldn’t afford any complications. Succeeding at this job required all her focus. And she could already tell that Slaid had the ability to make things a lot blurrier.

“So—” Slaid slowed his stride to match hers “—to sum up our meeting, strictly business now, Renewable Reliance wants to put a wind farm here. And you get to be their spokesperson. What happens next?”

“I’ll get all the informational materials together,” she answered. “Make some pamphlets, translate the environmental impact report into clear talking points and make a video that we’ll have available for people to download or watch at the library.”

“All in a month?”

“If I’m lucky. I think a month of exile in Benson is all I can handle.”

Slaid laughed. “Is that how you think of this? Exile?”

“Pretty much,” she answered, glancing at him. When he really laughed it was low and deep, as if he was truly enjoying himself.

“You know,” he said, his eyes still crinkled with humor. “A lot of people would consider you in paradise, not exile. We get tons of tourists out here to hike, mountain bike, camp, fish, rock climb, horseback ride...”

“None of which I have the slightest interest in.”

“What are you interested in?”

Tess opened her mouth to answer and shut it abruptly. She thought quickly, mentally trying to pick apart her life in San Francisco. “Work, mostly. I shop. Go to the gym. Spend some time with friends.” She suddenly wished she’d made time to take up a hobby.

“Huh.” That was all he said—but it said a lot. When she looked at her answer from Slaid’s point of view, her life, which she always tried hard to portray as glamorous and fascinating, actually seemed pretty boring.

Then he spoke. “How about you try a few of those things I mentioned while you’re here?”

“You mean fishing? Hiking?”

“Why not? If your boss sent you out to live in the middle of nowhere, why not use a little of the time to try something different? I’d be happy to show you around, strictly as professional colleagues, of course. Maybe I could teach you a few new skills.”

She flushed at his choice of words. He actually had taught her a few things during their night together. She was pretty sure she’d taught him a few, as well.

“Not like that.” How had he read her mind? “Not to be crude, but I don’t think you need much tutoring in that area.”

Heat flooded her veins and lit up every nerve. “Slaid, I think it’s best that we agree not to talk about that topic. We need to pretend that Phoenix never happened.”

“Maybe.” There was a pause and she glanced at his profile as they walked, trying to read what that maybe meant. He didn’t elaborate.

“I’m here to work,” she reminded him. “I have to be professional or I could compromise my credibility. And I’d hate to do anything to damage your image as mayor.”

“And how might you do that?” He was looking down at her with a half smile. “You don’t really strike me as the kiss-and-tell type. More like kiss and leave.”

“Trust me, Mayor Jacobs. I was doing you a favor by stepping quietly out of your life—I won’t apologize for that. And I told you yesterday, if you insist I stay on this project, I will, but that’s the only thing I’m here for.”

“Work isn’t everything, Tess. And if you get to know the area, you might think twice about destroying it.”

So that was his motivation. She shouldn’t care, but for a moment she’d thought he really wanted to spend more time with her. And even if it was out of the question, it had been an enticing thought. “I don’t know how else to explain it to you. I represent this project, but it’s not mine. I have nothing to do with it and I’m not destroying anything—I’m simply here to interface with the public.”

“But you just agreed that the project will destroy the area.”

Tess wasn’t sure if it was humor or malice that she saw in his eyes. “I agreed to no such thing! Stop trying to box me into a corner or make me feel guilty. I’m here to do my job and I intend to do it well. I assume you’ll do your job to the best of your abilities, also. Just two civilized adults doing what we’re being paid to do.” They’d reached the gate in her picket fence. “I appreciate your time this morning, Slaid. I’ll keep you informed as the project progresses. And thank you for the shopping trip.”

“Are you warmer now?” he asked, and there was a softness in his voice that surprised her.

“Yes. Not my usual attire for the office, but it will have to do.”

He looked her up and down. She could almost feel his gaze under her layers of warm clothing.

“I think it’s an improvement. They have business casual clothing, why not business country? Business wilderness?”

“I’ll ask my boss about it.” She couldn’t stand there with him any longer. Not with the strange wanting, that couldn’t, shouldn’t be rushing through her.

“Goodbye,” she told him, and fled past the gate and through her front door, shutting it gratefully against the chill of the air and the heat that was Slaid. Maybe she was a coward, but she was ready to hide out in the temperate climate of her little cabin.