Authors: Tina Leonard
“Oh.” It was important to keep separation between he and Nick so he wouldn’t resent him. As long as Santana was the employee, and Nick the employer, Santana didn’t have to think: He could just work. For however long that relationship remained beneficial.
It was good for both of them.
“So who won the game?”
“I have no idea.” He sighed, sounding sleepy. “I went looking for information, and found a whole world I never knew existed. Back room bar and shenanigans. My brothers would love that place.”
“You miss them, don’t you?”
“I miss our family—the way it was. Yeah. I miss what we were. Before.”
Emma leaned against the pillow, tucking the sheet under her arms. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Except maybe dad’s. But what the hell. Gambling’s a terrible addiction, and I’m glad he was able to break it, at least to some extent.” He sighed again, deeply.
Emma thought it best to change the subject. “When does Nick think they can bring him new wheels and tires?”
“The boys across the way think they’ve got a set of wheels they can temporarily put on, at least so a tow truck can load him up and take his precious hunk of junk to the city for extra-special treatment at whatever fairy tale store is required for rich folks and their expensive rides. How’s Sierra?”
“Last I saw, much improved.” Emma’s brows furrowed. “It was so weird how that fever hit her. My guess is that it was around one hundred two.”
“She was definitely ill.” He was quiet for a minute. “She’s not herself anymore. The truth is, she’s been acting strange ever since we found out about our father.”
Emma thought about Miss Sugar’s astonishing gossip. “She doesn’t talk about it much.” Actually, Sierra was more quiet than her brothers about her grief. “I’d like to say that Sierra is just being quiet, but in some ways, she was the wild one of your family, I’d have to admit. I get why you’re worried, but maybe it’ll pass in time, Santana.”
“It’s the tattoos and the hair that worry me. She was never really a renegade.”
“I wouldn’t take those things necessarily as the mark of a renegade. You have a tattoo.” He had a pretty spectacular lightning strike on his upper back, right shoulder.
“It’s the piercings and everything else.” Santana shifted on the bed. “It’s the wedding dress store, too.”
“Why is that cause for alarm?”
“It just worries me how fast she jumped into an arrangement with Nick.”
“You did.”
“Yeah. But this magic wedding dress business is crazy. Sierra knows nothing about owning a store, nothing about retail. I don’t like any of it. But there’s not much I can do about it.”
“She has to give it a shot. If it doesn’t work out, she’ll go to work at the fire station,” she reminded him.
“Over my cold, dead body.”
Santana went silent for a moment, then she felt his big frame leave the bed. By the sudden tugging, she could tell he was pulling his boots back on. “Where are you going?”
“You need your rest. I’ll see you in the morning. Miss Sugar says seven a.m. sharp for breakfast, or we go hungry. Goodnight, Emma.”
He left, closing the door quietly behind him, and Emma knew sleep was going to be impossible now that he’d left her without even a kiss.
• • •
Nick started when the passenger-side door opened again. When had his car become the local hangout?
Sierra got in, slamming his door with a bit more force than a car this expensive required. “Careful,” he chided.
“This is just a car,” Sierra glared at him. “Nothing special. It’s metal and glass and some really nice leather seats.” She reclined her chair.
Nick wasn’t certain how he felt about that. He already had a wedding dress taking up space in the back, where technically he could at least lie down if he moved the damn thing. He was probably more comfortable up here, though. “Do you have a point?”
“Yes. It’s that you shouldn’t worship things so much that you freeze your balls off.”
“Says the woman with an ancient, moth-eaten gown in my back seat.” What had happened to him? The bachelor lifestyle was one he’d savored, enjoying it to the fullest.
Until everything had changed.
Damn Dad, anyway. Why did you have to leave me with these five responsibilities
?
Of course the Darks weren’t his responsibility, technically. He could just walk away.
“It’s not moth-eaten!” Sierra shot him yet another glare, which would probably look really menacing on anyone but her. She had the cutest pixie face and expressive eyes, and darling full lips.
She also had face jewelry and wild hair that looked like she’d stuck a finger in a socket. And a sassy mouth.
He shifted in the seat, thinking he was in no danger at all of his balls being frozen. Something about Sierra had the strangest ability to heat him right up, to an uncomfortable degree.
“This dress is a piece of history of a bygone era,” Sierra told him.
“Are we opening a museum or a dress shop?”
“I am opening a place where dreams come true.”
“And I’m financing this.”
“Yes, out of the corner of your Scrooge-like heart that has some desire for excitement and human contact left in it. Give me a corner of that blanket.”
He tossed half of both of the blankets over her, feeling weirdly like two kids making a fort out of the family linen. It was an experience he’d never had, lacking siblings. Nick glanced at his uninvited guest, noting Sierra’s eyes were closed, her hands fisted in the blankets, holding them close to her chin.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” he said gruffly. “You just got over a fever. We hope.”
“Miss Sugar’s spoonful of sugar worked. I’m fine.”
“You’re not that susceptible.”
“Look. For years all we had out in Star Canyon was a D.O. We lived on home remedies. Not everybody needs to run to a fancy doctor with a prescription pad every time they fart.”
“Are you suggesting I do?”
“Fart?” She shrugged. “Everybody does. Except I forget, you’re not Mr. Everybody. You’re special.”
He sighed. “Why are you out here, heating up the inside of my car?”
“Because you need company. Being lonely is boring.”
“You think I’m boring?”
She rolled her head to look at him. “Don’t you think you’re boring?”
It just so happened that he did, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “So you came out here to tell me I’m a selfish stiff who’s so Ebenezer Scrooge I won’t get out of my costly chariot, and if I so much as sneeze, I’d feel the need to dial up my premium physician for an instant consultation.”
“Sorry,” she said, “it was too much to dump on you at once, wasn’t it? And anyway, that’s not why I’m here. But I’m crabby, so try to overlook it.”
“Thank you,” he said mildly.
“You can sleep in my room with me,” Sierra said.
“I…beg your pardon?” Nick was dumbfounded.
“There’s no reason to be out in this Arctic tomb. You can sleep in bed with me. I promise not to touch you.”
She sounded as if that was the last thing she’d ever want to do, akin to handling a large snake.
“I think Miss Sugar would be offended.”
“Miss Sugar may have to deal with it.”
He considered Sierra’s pointed look. She definitely meant what she was saying. “This is a trap, right?”
“What?” She raised a brow. “You mean the kind of trap where I invite you to sleep in my room, then claim I’m having your baby? Don’t be stupid. My brothers would kill you if they even thought you touched me.”
“Do they do that often?”
“Threaten suitors?” Sierra laughed. “My brothers are well understood in Star Canyon. They don’t have to threaten anyone. You, they’d kill.”
He straightened. “So you’re inviting me to walk into a dangerous situation.”
“Thrilling, isn’t it?”
“Not really.” He burrowed down further in his seat. “I prefer females who are less encumbered by marauding brothers.”
“Yeah, well. You and every other man.” She sighed. “I was hoping you were different.”
He looked at her. “Why?”
“Men with courage are hard to find.”
“Courage? Dealing with homicidal cousins would make me a courageous figure to you?”
“We’re not really cousins, you know.”
“It might be better if we were.”
“That’s…weird, even coming from the world’s biggest pinhead.”
She didn’t understand that filial distance was a good thing. How could he want to kiss Sierra as much as he did?
“Anyway,” Sierra said, “back to my homicidal brothers, I’ve got one at the ranch taking care of your herd. Hope you don’t mind.”
He glanced at her, stunned. “Which brother?”
“Actually, all three of them. Luke, Cisco, and Romero. Although I don’t think Cisco will hang around long.”
“Santana didn’t mention this.”
“He doesn’t know.” She met his gaze with piercing eyes. “And until I figure out how to tell him, you’re not going to tell him, either.”
“Why can’t you just tell him? They’re grown men. No need to hide.”
“They came back to work for you.”
His brows rose. “Instead of going to find their destinies on some remote island or desert, they’ve decided to return and work the family ranch that’s no longer theirs?”
“That’s it.”
“Why did they tell you instead of Santana?”
“I asked them to come back, just for a couple of months. It’s going to be Christmas soon. We need to be together during the holidays. It’s normal for families. Didn’t you know?”
“So your brothers are running the ranch for me right now?”
“I told them you needed the help. We’re stranded here for who knows how long.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Well, ranch life doesn’t wait until you show back up in your Jaguar.”
“Range Rover.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Thank you for sending them over,” he said, thinking he now had four brothers to get through if he was ever going to—
To what? Kiss this wild woman? Date her? They were so different from each other he shouldn’t even be thinking what he was thinking. Not about her soft lips, her big eyes, her delicate body, the sparks she threw off when she lit up with her harebrained schemes—
“That’s good. Nice to know. And your secret’s safe with me. Although it won’t be a secret much longer, once we get back. Now get out.”
Sierra looked at him. “What?”
“Get out of my car. Please.” Nick really, really wanted her to go. If she didn’t, he couldn’t be held responsible for not tasting those lips.
He’d be royally screwed if he did.
“Why?” Sierra demanded.
“Because you’re bothering me. I’m trying to work. It’s the first time since I’ve met you Darks that I’ve actually had utter silence. No barking dogs, no scrawny tie-dye-haired woman sassing me, no wedding gown ridiculousness—”
She gasped. “You don’t mean that!”
“Out of the car. Time is money, and you’re taking up time I could be working.”
“It’s all about money for you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Goodnight.”
She got out, peering back in at him for a second. “If you get tired of being a frozen freak, there’s space for you in my room.”
It was so tempting he wondered if he was stupid to pass it up. “Your brother would take a chunk out of my hide.”
“Don’t be a boring chickenshit, Nick Marshall.”
No one in any boardroom would have ever called him such. “We discussed your homicidal brothers, didn’t we?”
“For the record, my room has two beds. I wasn’t seducing you, dork.”
She slammed the door, drawing a wince from him. His car had never been treated with anything but the softest touch. Then again, what did it matter? The thieves had left his car axles perched on cinder blocks, a well-practiced maneuver to get wheels on and off with a minimum of fuss. She was right: the car was just metal and glass.
She was beauty and sass.
He wasn’t going to tell her the truth about her birth parent records. That job he’d assigned to her brother, his foreman.
I’m an asshole like my father.
He told himself Sierra really did have homicidal brothers, but that wasn’t why he needed distance.
She might not have been attempting to seduce him, but if he went into her room, he damn sure would be hard-pressed not to seduce her.
He’d keep her secret, though. Just like he was keeping his.
He settled back down in the seat, and told himself to go to sleep. The door opened again, but he didn’t open his eyes. Damn it, had these people never heard of texting? They could reach him faster that way, and with a whole lot less bother to him.
“If you get out,” a raspy voice said, “we can fix up your car and get you at least to the nearest town.”
He jumped. The man looked perfectly fine, in an overgrown, flannel-wearing sort of way. “I have a service coming tomorrow, thanks. Do I know you?”
“I’m Miss Sugar’s brother.”
“Ah.” Nick got out of the car reluctantly, and the man closed the passenger-side door. Nick glanced at the truck the man drove. There was a stack of tires haphazardly thrown in the back, very visible thanks to the spotlight on the top of the man’s truck emitting enough light to blind angels. “Are those my tires?”
“Could be. I just buy them when they come my way.”
Nick approached the truck bed. Those
were
his tires, high-quality, expensive tires that weren’t anything like the stacks of tires beneath. Great, just great. He was the victim of a scam, and Miss Sugar was the chief con artist. “You’re Miss Sugar’s brother, you say?”
“I am. Name’s Sid.”
“What’s going on?” Santana asked, coming out of the diner. “That light on your truck is shining through the whole damn—are those your tires, Nick?”
“Yes. He apparently doesn’t have my wheels, though.”
“Doug Weathers probably has those,” Sid informed them. “He buys ’em, no questions asked.”
“He doesn’t want them,” Santana said, stunning Nick. “I ought to report this establishment for preying on its customers.”
“Hey!” Sid drew his girth up. “I didn’t know these were his tires!”
“Hit the road, or I’m calling the law.”
“Sheriff’s my cousin!” Sid exclaimed.
“Then I’ll call the Better Business Bureau and a few other places. News stations, for one,” Santana said. “Go.”