Читать книгу Once Upon a Time in Tarrula / To Wed a Rancher - Myrna Mackenzie, Jennie Adams - Страница 12

STACIE melted into Troy’s arms and his touch and his kiss with so much giving that Troy struggled not to sweep her up against his chest and …

What? Carry her to her bed inside her home and make love to her through the night? It was exactly what he wanted. To want was one thing, but it also felt like what he needed—and how could that be, when Troy had made his choices? When he controlled his life and his decisions and he’d already decided that showing any interest in Stacie could only end badly?

He didn’t want to hurt her, and if he had no desire to lock in to any kind of meaningful relationship he would hurt her. He had to stop this, now, before it went any further.

Troy was a man of discipline. That discipline had saved his life and kept his team in one piece more times than he could count. And yet right now, even as he warned himself to stop, he drew Stacie closer and wrapped his arms even more snugly around her as he kissed her again, tasted her again. He felt as thoughg he needed that taste, needed to know every nuance of kissing her.

She brought out odd, untapped feelings in him that he didn’t understand, that seemed to bypass all of his usual outlook and attitude. As he held her, he wanted to be reverent, to cherish what he held as a precious gift. New, intimidating and completely unanticipated, these concepts swelled inside him.

There’d been Linda. He’d cared for her as much as he was capable of doing. She had reciprocated those feelings to a similar degree. But theirs had been a tough, goals-focused relationship. Perfect to him, because she would not have welcomed the gentle things he couldn’t give—that his mother had lamented the lack of as she’d tried to place her emotional baggage, her dissatisfaction with her marriage and her life, onto Troy.

His mum was probably still dissatisfied while she and his father roved all over Australia, part of the grey army living the retirement ‘dream’.

Not your problem, Rushton. It never was.

As for all those tender feelings, was he saying he could give them now?

The question confronted him enough that he shoved it away, rejected it. He knew he couldn’t give those things. He didn’t have them inside him; he didn’t even have what he’d given to Linda any more. He had lost his career and had to rebuild, and lost a part of himself physically as well. Troy hated the limitations that put on him.

And, if he was honest, he hated the loss of relationship and identity that he’d found in the army, a place where his lack of soft side had been a trait of value.

Was he having an identity crisis now? Was that responsible for these strange thoughts and things that seemed a lot like soft feelings as he held Stacie in his arms?

‘What are we doing, Troy?’ Stacie whispered the words against his lips.

What indeed? His hands were in her hair, sifting the soft tresses through his fingers.

‘We’re stealing a moment, and that moment is more than we should have taken.’ He’d meant the words to be practical, to help back the situation off and give them both the chance to walk away without needing to make too much of it. For all he knew, Stacie hadn’t and wasn’t making too much of it.

But his voice was too deep. He released those straight brown tresses too slowly. His hands came to rest too gently, caressing the curves where her arms and shoulders met.

Stacie drew back at the same time he did. Her lips left his and her hands slid from his chest and down his forearms. Also slowly. Also … reluctantly.

Did she find it as difficult to let go as he did? To let her hands fully drop away, as Troy struggled to make his hands release her?

‘I’m sorry, Stacie.’ He didn’t want to apologise for a kiss that had been an unexpected intimacy but he had to.

‘Troy, you’re right. We shouldn’t have done that.’ She took a step back, away from him, away from what they’d just shared. A confusion of thought clouded her gaze as she, too, said what she felt had to be said. ‘I can’t—I made the choice to be alone. I’m not looking for a relationship. Not now. Not ever.’

‘Why not? Who hurt you?’

‘It’s not like that.’ Swift words, spoken in denial as she’d done once before.

She went on. ‘My single future is important to me. The last thing—’

‘The last thing we should be doing is kissing each other when neither of us is prepared to pursue where that might lead us.’ Troy’s tone should have been stronger, more believable. When he spoke again, he made sure that it was. ‘You’re right. I’ve made the same choice you have when it comes to relationships.’

Perhaps if he said it aloud it would help him to cement that thought inside him where it should stay. ‘I don’t want a relationship. I don’t have the emotional …’

How could he explain the reasons? He didn’t want to expose his lack to her. Why did that bother him so much with Stacie? ‘I shouldn’t have let that kiss happen when I knew where I stood with … romance and so on.’ Troy settled for those words.

‘Then we’ll just forget it, Troy.’ She drew a breath and schooled her expression into an outward appearance of calm. ‘I’m sure that’ll be best for both of us.’

‘What made you choose to be …?’ Alone? What had made her decide that she didn’t want to invest in a relationship?

‘It was a broken relationship.’ The words were tight. ‘Thanks for driving me home.’ She rushed on. ‘I’ll contact roadside assistance tomorrow morning and get things sorted out with my car.’

In her back yard, her dog let out a woof of sound. A higher-pitched yip accompanied it. Stacie turned her head in that direction before she met Troy’s glance again. ‘I need to go in, feed Fang and Houdini and do some things. Time’s getting on, and I have a lot of work planned for this weekend.’

Work, not play. Troy had the same kind of weekend planned. It was what he should have stuck to in his thinking tonight, too. ‘Good night, Stacie. I appreciated the work outing as a chance to get to know people a bit better. I’ve got enough of a grip on all of them now.’

The subtext was that they would both draw a line beneath what had happened here. If they both knew it, then that was how it would be.

Troy turned to go back to his car and make the small drive to his house. Distance physically, and distance mentally; if he started with that the rest would surely follow because it wasn’t as though he were emotionally invested in Stacie or anything.

He might have experienced a couple of odd thoughts while he was kissing her, but whatever they’d been he had them more than under control now. Of course he did. Troy put the car in gear and drove towards his home.

Stacie watched Troy get into his car and drive to his house. Once he cut the lights she went inside, took food from the fridge and outside to the dogs. Then she went about all the normal tasks she did on a Friday night.

Except Stacie kept losing track of the cleaning and sorting of laundry and other things. Her mind kept returning to a kiss that had been like no other. To a man she should not have kissed at all, but had.

Troy had made it clear he didn’t want to pursue that path with her, though he’d seemed shaken by the kiss, as Stacie had been. He’d asked about her history, and she’d admitted it, but she’d wished he hadn’t asked.

You’re not dealing with what happened with Andrew, and you need to.

Yes, she was dealing with it. She needed to keep focusing on looking forward, not over her shoulder. Stacie did what had to be done about her place, and went to bed.

When Stacie woke the next morning, her car was parked outside her house waiting for her. There was a note explaining some technical bits of car engineering that she didn’t fully understand. The bottom line was Troy had fixed the problem.

He must have got up at dawn to do that for her, and all without asking her for a car key.

In special-ops, skills like fixing cars, unlocking them and starting them without a key would have perhaps seemed every-day. To Stacie, they represented a whole other world of resilience, determination and way of doing things. One that Troy had lost.

Was that loss his reason for avoiding relationships? He’d said he didn’t have the emotion; had that been drained from him as the result of his loss of career path, and of the injury that had caused that loss? Or did he believe it had never been there?

The weekend passed in separate acts of busyness at each of their homes. She saw Troy out working in his orchard. There was a lot of ladder-work involved. When he seemed to lose his footing and almost fell while Stacie was outside trimming the hedge in her front yard—which she’d been meaning to do for ages!—she almost ran to him but he regained his footing, glaring so darkly over the slip that she could sense his frustration from way over here.

Stacie went studiously back to her work. Later, when he’d gone into his gym, she left a container of home-baked cookies and a note thanking him for fixing her car.

She painted her nails lime-green, stuck fruit stickers on them and dared the dogs to say they were a silly choice. The stickers made her happy while she was sewing, so there.

Monday arrived and Carl told her they would be getting Troy in to participate in Carl’s scheduled top-to-toe examination of the plant. When Troy arrived, Stacie tried to greet him normally. Had Troy spared any thought for those shared kisses since they happened?

Stacie had thought about them plenty, though she probably shouldn’t have.

Troy and Carl disappeared downstairs, and Stacie tried to concentrate on her work.

‘Only as I berate myself for allowing those kisses to happen in the first place.’ She fanned the blank sheets of printer paper in her hands before she placed them in the empty tray.

The phone rang as Troy and Carl returned.

Stacie allowed herself one glance in Troy’s direction before she picked it up. ‘Tarrula almond processing plant, Stacie speaking.’

The call was for her boss; Stacie transferred it to Carl’s desk.

Within moments Carl had put the call on hold.

He caught Troy’s gaze and explained about the man coming through that evening, how his business could offer a substantial opportunity to the plant. ‘I can’t make a meeting tonight. My wife has had a minor surgery today; I’ll be collecting her from hospital after work and looking after her.’

‘If you need to take more time off work …’ Troy began.

Carl shook his head. ‘Thanks, but our daughter’s arriving from Sydney first thing tomorrow morning to spend a week with her.’

‘I’m glad to hear things are working out. Stacie and I will handle tonight’s dinner.’ Troy made the decision and announced it firmly. Then he added, ‘If you’re available, Stacie? It’s better to attend this kind of meeting with a strong presence for the plant, I think.’

‘If it’s necessary, of course I’ll go.’ Her heart skipped at the thought of an evening out in Troy’s company but it would be all right. They had indulged in their one moment of exploration. They knew not to repeat it. Stacie certainly didn’t want to repeat it—of course not. She took a breath and tried to ignore her thoughts.

‘Thanks.’ Troy got to his feet. ‘It’s not until seven-thirty, so there’ll be time to go home, take care of the dogs and anything else. I’ll collect you from your place.’

‘I have to go, Mum. The new owner’s pulling up outside in his car.’ Stacie spoke the words into the phone.

‘That’s lovely, dear.’ Mum’s voice bubbled across the airwaves. ‘I’m so pleased you’re going on a date.’

‘It’s not a date, Mum. It’s a work event.’ Stacie bit back a stronger retort, and ignored the relief in her mother’s voice at the same time.

Until Mum said, ‘Before you end the call, Stacie, don’t you think it’s time you visited while Gemma and Andrew are here? They’ve news—’

‘Sorry, Mum, but I really have to go.’ Stacie cut her mother off. She didn’t want to hear about Andrew and Gemma. Mum was asking too much, too soon.

Stacie wanted a comfortable family relationship for everyone again, just as much as Mum must. But surely Mum realised that any hope of that was a long time into the future?

Oh, Stacie’s emotions felt so torn right now.

And still there was Troy, about to drive her into town for this business dinner.

Stacie’s heart-rate lifted the moment she heard Troy’s car approaching outside. From that moment she battled to concentrate on her conversation with her mother. Why couldn’t Stacie just view Troy as a neighbour and the man who paid her wages and let go of the rest?

Because she’d had a taste of what it could be like to be more than that to him, because she liked him, admired and was attracted to him, was curious about his life. There; was that enough to start with?

It was enough to get in a lot of trouble with—that was what. ‘Bye, Mum.’

After she ended the call, Stacie threw her shoulders back. ‘I’m going out there to meet Troy, to talk about business, and I’m putting every other thought out of my mind.’

With these words spoken, she checked her appearance once in the mirror in her room and hurried to the front door.

The last thing she needed was to pine over Troy. He didn’t want a relationship, and Stacie didn’t either. End of story!

By the time she opened the door and walked through, Troy was halfway to it.

When he saw her, he stilled.

‘Hi. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. Mum was on the phone.’ Wishing I was going on a real date with you.

As though Stacie had any kind of hold on Troy to make such a thing happen; of course she didn’t. And even if she did, and he took that up, she wouldn’t want a relationship to be unevenly balanced. It should be a fair exchange, a choice that both people made because it was what they wanted.

Stacie and Troy wanted completely different things.

No, they didn’t—they wanted the same thing, to live single lives. Since when had she forgot that fact about herself—even for a moment!

And she was reaching hugely even to use the word ‘relationship’ when it came to this man.

But in this moment Stacie registered every step she took towards him and so did Troy.

His voice was deep. Slow words seemed to rumble from his chest. ‘That colour suits you, Stacie. You look … nice.’ His glance dropped to peach nail-polish decorated with tiny sparkly diamond shapes, and approval shone in his gaze. ‘I like your ever-changing nails. Those ones are very pretty.’

‘Thank you. It’s nice of you to say that.’ It was the silliest thing, a validation of a quirk that her sisters used to make fun of years ago, but somehow it made Stacie feel good to hear Troy’s praise.

Maybe if she hadn’t caught his gaze after that, Stacie wouldn’t have been as affected by the small compliment. But she looked into his eyes, and they were deep pools of admiration.

She’d teamed a pale-peach skirt and matching jacket with a pair of darker peach pumps, and had put her hair up in a loose knot held with a pearl-encrusted clip her parents had given her on her last birthday. A soft cream-coloured blouse matched the pearl clip.

‘Thank you.’ Stacie tried to breathe normally. ‘You look good too, Troy.’

That was an understatement. He looked stunning. He had a military bearing that she doubted he would ever lose. It clung to him, or perhaps it came from within him. Tonight he wore drill trousers and a black sweater that moulded to his musculature.

You’re not to notice him in that way, Stacie.

Troy opened the passenger door for her and stood back.

Stacie caught her breath, caught the scent of the cologne he wore, and fought not to close her eyes to enjoy it all the more. If she did that she’d be right back in her thoughts to being kissed by him, and she couldn’t afford to think about that. She stepped blindly into the car.

During the drive they spoke of the rain, the plant, Troy’s almond orchards and the number of times Houdini had found a way to be over at Troy’s since Troy had first found him.

It wasn’t a long trip and it passed quickly while Stacie was trying to pull her thoughts together for the evening ahead. She couldn’t walk into this night overly aware of Troy. The work aspect of the evening had to be her focus.

It was raining lightly by the time they arrived outside the restaurant.

‘Perhaps the weather forecast will prove accurate and we’ll be rained out tonight.’ Stacie spared a thought for the possibility of frizzy hair, while Troy took an umbrella from the glove compartment.

He took her arm so they could share the umbrella as they approached the welcoming lights of the restaurant. Sensible efficiency shouldn’t have added to her ultra-awareness of him, but it did.

‘That’ll be him over there.’ Troy spoke quietly and guided Stacie to a man waiting at a table set for three to the side of the room.

‘Troy Rushton?’ The man got to his feet.

‘Yes. And let me introduce the plant’s administrative assistant, Stacie Wakefield.’ Troy shook their guest’s hand, and introduced the man to Stacie in turn. ‘Stacie, this is Marc Crane.’

Stacie smiled. ‘Hello.’

Marc was an athletic looking man in his mid-thirties.

His gaze rested on her for a moment before they all took their seats.

Stacie didn’t even register the attention. Well, she did, but just as a passing moment of being summed up.

And how could she even drum up enough interest to care, when the only man she could manage to think about like that was the man at her side?

Andrew had hurt her so much. She’d thought a part of her would go on loving him, even when she didn’t want to. Had those feelings gone now?

She wasn’t thinking of Troy in that way, of course, but she hadn’t expected even to notice a man for a very long time at least.

They settled into their seats at the table. Stacie made sure she took her part in the conversation. With every moment that passed, she struggled not to fall deeper under the spell of her employer’s appeal.

She’d never felt like this. It was as though, by sharing those kisses with him, she’d opened a pathway that she now couldn’t seem to step off, that she wanted to follow forward.

What was she saying—that she did want to try to pursue a relationship with Troy?

Out of the question.

She’d told Troy she didn’t want that, and he’d said the same right back to her.

‘We don’t have split shifts to work the plant around the clock, no.’ Troy answered Marc’s question and expanded to outline the current hours. ‘Thanks to a very good manager, the plant has locked in three new almond suppliers in the past year, Marc, and we’re now in negotiations with several more.’ Troy continued the discussion. ‘The plant shows every sign that it will definitely expand until it is running around the clock.’

‘All good to hear.’ The other man nodded. ‘I like to understand how a plant works if I’m thinking about doing business with it.’

Their meals arrived: pumpkin ravioli for Stacie; steak dressed with sautéed prawns for the men, with herb bread in a wicker basket and crisp individual salads. Stacie ate her delicious meal and watched Troy shine as he put the plant forward in its best light to this potential business-contact.

No one would ever have known Troy hadn’t been running the plant in a very hands-on fashion for years and years!

‘I’ve enjoyed the meal.’ Marc glanced at his watch and then met Troy’s gaze. ‘And I’m looking forward to dealing with you. I’ll email you when I get back to my offices to sort out our next step.’

‘I’ll look forward to that.’ Troy rose as Marc did.

The men shook hands and Marc left.

‘He’ll get soaked between here and his car.’ Stacie made the observation as Marc pushed the restaurant’s entry-door open and the sound of deluging rain and rushing wind met their ears.

‘I suppose he will.’ Troy took his seat again.

Stacie smiled. ‘You did a great job of winning him over, Troy. I don’t think you needed me here at all.’

‘I want the plant to progress. That’s just good business-sense. And don’t underestimate the benefit of your presence.’ Troy gestured to a waiter. As the man approached, he asked Stacie if she’d like coffee and dessert. ‘It’s still early.’

‘I would, actually.’ Stacie gave a half-embarrassed laugh. ‘The tiramisu here is really spectacular.’ It wouldn’t be wrong to stay, to talk a little longer, just the two of them would it? If they simply spoke of work matters, didn’t that mean it was fine?

‘I’d rather let that rain ease off a bit before we drive back.’ Troy’s words seemed to decide the issue, and in a wholly pragmatic manner.

So, you see it was obvious—Troy wasn’t thinking about anything even slightly close to memories of kisses. He probably had production schedules circulating in his head!

Stacie told herself she could relax, and if she felt a spark of something that rather resembled disappointment she didn’t allow herself to admit it.

‘You’re digging in.’ She hadn’t really realised it until just now. ‘You’ve taken the future of the plant to heart, not just to see it keep going, but to make the absolute best of it that you can.’

He was already doing the same with his orchards. ‘You’ll make your enterprises here successful, Troy. It’s in your nature to make that happen.’

‘No matter what the career path …’ He seemed arrested by the thought. And then he looked at her. ‘You’re doing the same. Pushing forward.’

‘Yes. I really want to make a success of the Bow-wow-tique as a full-time business, and I believe, now that I’ve positioned myself here at Tarrula, I’ll be able to.’

He blew over the top of his coffee and sipped. ‘I think you will, too.’

Will … what?

For a moment Stacie couldn’t recall the thread of the conversation. She’d been distracted by lips that she’d thought from the start were made for kisses; now she knew …

‘Tell me about growing up, Troy. Or life in the army. Both.’ Anything to distract her from wanting his kisses again.

Too late.

And how would getting to know him more fix her problem of trying not to desire him as a man?

‘I left my home at seventeen.’ Troy took a spoonful of his dessert. ‘I go back for visits, but my parents are retired and travelling a lot. I can’t say we’re particularly close. Dad’s a quiet man, keeps to himself pretty much, and Mum’s always found me a bit hard to … accept, I think.’

He was giving her a chance to get to know him, to glimpse his past world—where he’d come from and what made him tick.

It felt right to reciprocate, at least to a degree. ‘I had a good childhood, a happy one.’ Maybe that was why, as they had all got older, she hadn’t wanted to notice when men started to gloss over her existence and only see her beautiful sisters.

It had taken Andrew, allowing her to believe he loved her and would eventually marry her—and then falling at Gemma’s feet instead, with an engagement ring in his hand, no less—for Stacie’s hopes to tumble down.

Stacie’s chin came up. ‘My sisters are very beautiful women.’ And that was enough about that.

‘Did you have a fulfilling career in the army, Troy?’ Had he reached his zenith before injury had robbed him of all of that?

‘I don’t know if the climb ever would have ended.’ The colour of Troy’s eyes darkened, as he seemed to consider the question. ‘But, yes, I’d reached a lot of my goals before the injury.’

He went on to explain how he’d moved through the ranks within the armed forces, into special-ops and what he’d achieved there. When Troy told her about the mission that had resulted in his injury, he was guarded about details, but told enough of a story for Stacie to realise the relief he’d felt that the mission had been a success—that no one else on the team had been injured, that they’d all got out alive and accomplished what they had set out to do.

Stacie met his gaze and something in it warned her not to become too sentimental about all that. ‘I’ve lived an easy life in comparison. I have supportive parents and my sisters. Now I have my farmlet to gradually bring up to standard inside and out, and my Bow-wow-tique business to grow. I’d dabbled with it for a couple of years before I moved here. I’m glad I finally got serious about it.’

‘I think you’ve lived more than you realize, or are perhaps letting on.’ His low words were observant. ‘And I think I’d find it interesting to meet your family.’

Too observant; Stacie had been through pain and she didn’t want to carry all of that forward into what her life was now. She wanted to leave it behind her, and he’d just hit on the one topic Stacie didn’t want to explore—how she currently related to her family.

‘I want to live my own life, my own way.’ The words came on a burst of sound, and she turned her attention back to Troy to get away from the emotions they invoked. ‘With a career like yours, would you have planned to marry?’

The moment she asked the words, she shook her head. ‘Sorry. That’s not really my business.’

‘I was engaged to a woman who also had a career in the army.’ Troy’s words held a calm inflection that didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes.

Somewhere in their depths, Stacie saw turbulence: anger at fate, perhaps, for robbing him of his dreams, not only in terms of work, but personally as well?

Why had the engagement ended?

‘Linda couldn’t move forward with me. I’d have held her back.’ Troy spoke the words flatly. ‘If she hadn’t made that decision, I’d have made it for her.’

‘She agreed to this because you were injured?’ Shock made her words sharp; disapproval honed them even more. He didn’t need to confirm it. The truth was in his steady gaze. ‘That’s wrong.’

It hadn’t been love! This Linda should have been at his side, seeing him through!

A deep anger filled Stacie. Hadn’t Troy faced enough, without such a loss being added at a time when he must have been able to accept it least? Yet he was saying he’d have instigated the break up if his fiancée hadn’t!

‘I have no emotion for a second attempt at a relationship.’

His words made it clear that he believed that he had a lack of emotion deep down within himself. Stacie had looked into his eyes; she’d seen the hardness.

But he’d held her gently, kissed her softly as well as with passion.

Had she imagined those emotions in Troy because she wanted them to be there?

Just as you did with Andrew, Stacie? Except in his case those emotions weren’t truly there for you but could be found and handed to your sister.

‘I understand, Troy.’ In the end, she did. He wanted to be her neighbour and employer and that was all.

Whatever she felt about anything else, that was Troy’s expectation.

‘I wonder if the rain has eased at all?’ Stacie glanced towards the door. ‘We should maybe go.’

The getting-to-know you mission had certainly been accomplished. Whether the results felt particularly palatable just now or not was another thing. Well, they could be friends and colleagues, couldn’t they? That was what she’d felt would be sensible from the start. Stacie got to her feet and made the choice then and there to prove they could be exactly that.

It might take all the pride and determination she had, but she would make it happen.

After all she’d been through with Andrew, she wasn’t about to pine over Troy!

Troy escorted Stacie from the restaurant. He’d imparted more about himself than he’d planned to. Stacie had admitted to a broken relationship, and he’d drawn his conclusions about that: one of her sisters had stolen her man.

The hard knot in his chest must be disapproval of that sister. She’d treated Stacie badly.

Just as Linda treated you badly.

What was he thinking? Linda had done exactly what he’d expected of her.

He led Stacie through the rainy night to his four-wheel-drive. It was time to take her home and forget about swapping confidences, and too much examination of himself, when he was already quite clear just who he was!