Читать книгу True Blue Cowboy - Marin Thomas - Страница 12

Chapter Three

“Fine. We’ll pretend we’ve never met before.” Beth mimicked Mack’s deep voice as she hiked along the walking path.

She was at a loss as to how to deal with the country-and-western cowboy. She’d never had a male friend and found the idea intriguing, but Mack wasn’t the kind of man a woman could be friends with—not after she’d seen and touched every inch of his naked flesh.

She conjured up a likeness of him lounging in the motel bed and...

“Look out!”

Startled, Beth stopped walking and glanced up. Good Lord, another few steps and she would have collided with a saguaro cactus. She turned and discovered Mack standing several yards behind her—he’d sneaked up on her without making a sound. “I was hiking.” Duh. Hoping to distract him so he wouldn’t ask why she’d almost walked into a cactus, she said, “It’s warm today.”

He closed the gap between them. “The weatherman forecasted unseasonably warm temps until the end of next week.”

“Well, eighty-five degrees in January is too hot, even for Arizona.” Why were they discussing the weather? Because that’s what friends do. Flustered, she focused on the canyon in the distance and ignored the sultry scent of his cologne.

“Dave wanted me to tell you that we’re taking Roger Kline and his executives on a horseback ride and eating supper on the trail. José left with the chuck wagon a few minutes ago. Since there won’t be a formal meal in the dining room, you’re invited to join us.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to interfere in an all-guys outing.” She’d met the CEO of Kline Properties and his minions when they’d moved into the cabins next to hers.

Mack took off his hat and shoved his fingers through his hair—hair that had felt silky to the touch when she’d held his head steady while she’d kissed him. “I’m bringing my guitar along.”

After parting ways last month, Beth had listened to country-and-western radio stations, hoping to find a singer whose voice reminded her of Mack’s, but none of them had carried a tune quite like the lead singer of the Cowboy Rebels.

“C’mon, Beth. You’ve barricaded yourself inside your cabin every night this week.”

Barricaded? She’d hoped that by keeping to herself, her infatuation with him would wear off. The way her heart pounded right now indicated that her plan had failed. To be honest, she was tired of staring at the same four walls. What could it hurt to socialize with the ranch guests for a couple of hours? And she’d also like to hear Mack sing again.

“Okay. I’ll join the group for supper.”

His smile sucked the air out of her lungs. Was he really that pleased she’d agreed to go? No, he’s just being friendly. He put on his hat and walked off.

This friends thing bugged the heck out of Beth. Although tempting, a friendship with Mack Cash would be a bad investment. She’d give their companionship all her effort and energy but in the end she’d be left alone.

Beth returned to her cabin and showered. Deciding what to wear was easy. She’d packed jeans she’d purchased years ago—the denim wasn’t as fancy as the pair she’d worn to the Number 10—no bling—but they were comfortable and she could sit on a horse in them. Besides, looking sexy was way down on her list of priorities, as was picking up men or picking up where she and Mack had left off.

Her first priority was figuring out which direction her life was headed.

* * *

“THESE ARE THE BEST damned beans I’ve eaten in years.” Roger Kline glanced at Beth. “Pardon my swearing, ma’am.”

“No worries.” Beth smiled.

“José’s the finest ranch cook in southern Arizona,” Mack said.

“He sure is quiet.” Gerald, a balding man with a potbelly, helped himself to more beans.

When Mack hired on at the dude ranch, Dave had informed him that José didn’t know a word of English, but Mack sensed the camp cook understood more than he let on. Mack sat on a log in front of the fire and shoveled another forkful of barbecue into his mouth, while he watched Beth out of the corner of his eye. At first he was glad she hadn’t backed out of the group supper—he’d wanted to prove to himself that after a one-night stand they could still be friends. But now he regretted her presence.

He’d been positive he’d had it all figured out—why Beth had stuck in his craw after only one night together. For the past year, Mack had been losing interest in playing the field—hot dates with hot chicks was becoming old, but he hadn’t found a woman he’d consider dating exclusively. When Beth had waltzed into the bar, he’d assumed she was another hot chick.

Not until they’d slept together had he realized there was something different about her—an innocence that hadn’t matched her clothes, hair or makeup. When he’d held her in his arms, he’d sensed she wasn’t at all like the other women he’d been with. He’d wanted to get to know Beth better, but he’d woken the next morning alone in the motel room. It had been a hell of a blow to his ego that she’d left without a goodbye.

He’d sat on the edge of the bed feeling disenchanted with the singles scene. His thirtieth birthday was eight months away and he’d hoped by then to be with a woman who would stand by his side through thick and thin. A woman he could build a home with. Have a family with. Grow old with.

He’d left the motel that morning determined to find his forever girl but he hadn’t been able to forget Beth and her dolled-up image. And now he knew why he’d been so torn over her—Beth Richards was no buckle bunny. She was a forever girl who’d fallen off the wagon for one night.

Right then Beth laughed at one of the guest’s jokes and Mack’s gut churned with anger—mostly at himself. She’d used him and had made it clear she wasn’t interested in pursuing a long-term relationship, but damned if he still didn’t want her.

And that pissed him off.

“You gonna play a song for us, Mack, or sit there and scowl at the fire?” Dave asked.

“Sorry.” Mack bolted from the log and reached for his guitar. “You caught me thinking.”

“Judging by the look on your face,” Dave said, “you’ve either got money troubles or woman troubles.”

The men laughed while Beth scraped her beans into a neat little pile on her tin plate.

“How about a Garth Brooks song.” Mack strummed a few notes of “Cowboy Bill” then belted out the lyrics, his mixed emotions about Beth lending strength to his voice. He didn’t have to look at her to know she paid attention—the side of his face burned from her stare.

Ted, the eldest of Kline’s executives, sang along, and the other men slapped their thighs in rhythm to the music until the final verse.

Gerald clapped loudly and whistled between his teeth. “You’ve got quite a voice, Mack Cash.”

“Is it true,” Al said, “your mother named you after Merle Haggard?”

Mack shot Dave a dark look and his boss held up his hands. “Hey, it wasn’t me.”

“Jake mentioned it when he took us skeet shooting the other day,” Al said.

Fortunately for Jake, he had the weekend off or Mack would make the wrangler pay. “It’s true. My five brothers and I all got saddled with famous monikers.”

“His eldest brother is Johnny Cash,” Dave said.

The executives laughed then Roger spoke. “Is Cash your real surname?”

“Cash was my mother’s maiden name. She never married any of our fathers.”

“Fathers?” Paul, the quietest in the group joined the conversation.

“Each of my brothers has a different father, so my mother put her surname on our birth certificates.”

“What are the names of your infamous brothers?” Roger asked.

“Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Buck Owens, Conway Twitty and Porter Wagoner.”

Al shook his head. “I bet it was tough to live down those handles when you were young.”

“You’d bet right.” Mack grinned. “Johnny stood up for us until we were old enough to fight our own battles.”

“Are you the only singer in the family?” Ted asked.

“Yep. Johnny’s the foreman of his father-in-law’s ranch. Will works construction, and Conway manages the family pecan farm. Buck moved to Lizard Gulch, a small town near Kingman, and he runs an auto body shop with his wife. Porter is still finding himself.”

“With a voice like that,” Roger said “you must have more women after you than you know what to do with.”

Beth stood. “I’ll help José clean up.” She vanished behind the wagon.

Roger lowered his voice. “I get a kick out of the way that gal blushes.”

“Didn’t see a ring on her finger,” Al whispered.

The hairs on the back of Mack’s neck stood on end. Roger and his four executives all wore wedding bands. They’d better not get the idea that Beth was available for a fling during their stay—she wasn’t that kind of girl.

She was that kind of girl with you.

Dave cleared his throat. “Beth’s the daughter of my old college buddy.”

“What does she do for a living?” Al asked.

For a married man, Al showed too much interest in Beth.

“Beth works for an investment firm.” Dave removed the coffeepot from the fire and refilled everyone’s cup. “She’s enjoying a short break from corporate America.”

“You mind if I ask her to review my stock portfolio?” Al nodded toward the chuck wagon. “I’d like her opinion on a couple of investments.”

Portfolio, my ass. Mack fisted his hand then rubbed his knuckles against his thigh to keep from throwing a punch at the man. Later tonight he’d warn Beth to keep her guard up with Al and the others.

“My guests are free to do what they want here,” Dave said.

Right then Beth returned to the campfire. “Everything’s packed and ready to go.”

“Beth.” Al got to his feet. The middle-aged man was in decent shape but Mack doubted he’d ever fought over a woman before. “I hear you have investment experience. Would you mind meeting with me to discuss my stocks?”

“Beth is busy tomorrow.” Mack stood.

Al glanced between Beth and Mack, uncertain what to say.

Beth avoided making eye contact with Mack. “I’d be happy to meet with you before supper.”

Dave clapped his hands. “Let’s head back.”

The men set their empty coffee cups in the dishpan on the wagon’s sideboard then walked to their horses. When Beth did the same, Mack made a move to go after her but Dave snagged his arm.

“What was all that?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Dave narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on between you and Beth?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You got defensive when Al asked to meet with her.”

Mack nodded to the shadows beyond the campfire. Once they were out of earshot of the group, he said, “You and I both know Al wasn’t referring to his stocks when he asked Beth to look over his portfolio.”

“If I thought Al was a threat, I’d have stepped in. I’m not going to let anyone take advantage of Beth.”

“I don’t trust Al not to cross the line with her.”

“Beth’s a smart woman. She can handle Al.” Dave walked off and joined the guests by the horses.

Mack watched the city slickers swarm Beth. His brilliant idea to have her join them for supper so he could get to know her better had sure backfired in his face.

* * *

BETH SAT ON the cabin’s tiny porch facing Black Jack Canyon and sipped her tea. She marveled at the crazy turn her life had taken in the past year. The emotional highs and lows had exhausted her.

She couldn’t remember the last long vacation she’d taken from work or when she’d slept in until seven o’clock in the morning. Her stay at the guest ranch had been a nice change from sitting at her desk staring at a computer screen all day. She hadn’t realized how much anger and resentment had built up inside her after she’d discovered Brad had cheated. The daily hikes she’d taken at the ranch had helped expel the poisonous feelings from her body.

“Mind if I join you?”

She jumped inside her skin, almost sloshing tea onto her jeans. “I wish you’d stop stalking me.”

“Stalking? I knocked on the front door before I came back here.”

She motioned to the chair next to her. “Have a seat.”

Mack accepted the invite and propped one boot against the porch rail. They sat in silence. The scent of his aftershave drifted past Beth’s nose and she gave up fighting the memory of their night at the motel. Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t relived those few hours in his arms. Mack’s presence at the ranch forced her to confront her feelings for him when she’d rather leave them be.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“How long were you married?” he asked.

“Five years.”

“Where did you meet your ex?”

She’d known Mack would eventually ask these questions. “A friend invited me to her company picnic. I ended up on Brad’s softball team.” Krista had been an intern at the TV station, and since she didn’t have a boyfriend she’d brought Beth to the annual spring gathering.

Mack chuckled, the intimate noise reminding her of the sound he’d made when he’d nuzzled the skin behind her ear and learned she was ticklish. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m imagining you hitting a home run and your ex’s mouth dropping open.”

“Amazing,” she said.

“What?”

“I did hit a home run, but the reason Brad’s mouth hung open was because I plowed him over at home plate.” She smiled. “He wouldn’t get out of my way.”

“You’ve got an athlete’s body. He should have known better.”

She’d rather Mack tell her she had a siren’s body.

He told you that night that you were sexy.

Mack cleared his throat. “I stopped by to warn you about Al.”

“Why?”

“Needing investment advice isn’t his only motivation for wanting to get together with you.”

“I’m sure you’re wrong. He’s married.”

“I don’t trust the guy.”

“I appreciate the warning, but I can handle Al.” She expected Mack to continue badgering her, but he changed the subject.

“Are you originally from Yuma?” he asked.

“No. I was born and raised in San Diego.”

“How’d you end up in Arizona?”

“After earning a Master’s in finance I received a job offer from Biker and Donavan Investments. They had an opening in their Yuma branch. The starting salary was very competitive and with student loans hovering over my head, I took the position.” For the most part she hadn’t regretted it. She’d lived frugally and had paid off her school debt in record time. Then she’d met Brad, and after they’d married he was promoted to five-o’clock sports anchor and before she realized it, Yuma had become home.

“What about your family?”

“I’m an only child. My parents still live in San Diego. My father is a retired airline pilot and they travel now.”

“I can’t imagine growing up an only child.”

She didn’t want to talk about herself. “Besides the brothers you mentioned earlier tonight, do you have any sisters?”

“One. Dixie. All of us were raised by our grandparents.” He took off his hat and set it on his knee. “The men who fathered me and my brothers wanted nothing to do with us, and my mother came and went on the farm as she pleased. None of us kids were close to her. She died before our grandparents passed away.”

“Do you like being part of a big family?”

“I don’t know any different. You get used to all the chaos that comes with seven kids trying to coexist in a house with one bathroom.”

The noise level inside their home must have been impressive.

“Grandma Ada used to threaten to spank our backsides with her big cooking spoon if we didn’t stop tearing the house apart.” He leaned forward in the chair. “Was it tough growing up an only child?”