Close Enough to Touch (12 page)

She would’ve pulled away, but Cole’s hands were too strong, and
he held her tight and fucked her until he groaned and slammed his cock deep into
her one last time.

She couldn’t…God, she couldn’t believe it had been so intense.
He was still inside her, filling her up so much she felt that she couldn’t catch
her breath. When he slid free of her body, she gasped and collapsed, her knees
landing on the cushions.

Cole slapped her ass. “I’ll be right back.”

“Did you just
slap my ass?
” she
screeched as he walked toward the bathroom.

“Yep.”

“You…damn…” Her outrage gave her the strength to push to her
feet, and she yanked up her jeans. “I can’t believe—”

“Can’t believe what?” he asked, strolling back in with an
obnoxious grin.

“That you slapped my ass like you were dismounting a
horse!”

“That’s not how I usually dismount a horse, but that’s just me.
Where do you think you’re going?”

She’d been spinning away, meaning to stomp over to the door and
yank on her shirt, but Cole wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her
down to the couch.

“Hey!”

“Hey, nothing. You always walk out before the dew is dry?”

“The dew?” Grace found herself lying topless on a cowboy’s
naked chest, staring down at him in openmouthed shock. “You didn’t just say
that, did you?”

His hands spread over her back and he smiled softly. “Stay for
a few minutes, all right? I’m not quite done with you.”

“Well, I’m done with you.”

“Fair enough. Consider it a favor, then? Please? For a nice
cowboy?”

“Nice,” she muttered, but his hands felt sweet on her back. And
her muscles weren’t exactly strong at the moment. So Grace frowned to convey her
ambivalence, but she slowly let herself relax into his chest. She laid her cheek
to him, trying to ignore the tingle of pleasure she felt as her skin rubbed over
his soft chest hair.

But she couldn’t ignore the sweet rumble of his sigh. Grace
closed her eyes and exhaled.

* * *

C
OLE
WAS
GLAD
she wasn’t looking at
him anymore. He was having trouble maintaining his good ol’ boy smile.

Holy crap, that had been…

Clearing his throat, he tried to search for the right word, but
his mind was still reeling. Right now, Grace was a perfect, sweet weight against
his body. But a few minutes before, she’d been a line of slim muscle, taut as a
bowstring. All that deadly energy, caught up in a small body. Jesus, just
touching her had driven him a little mad. Mad enough to—

“You’re more intense than I expected,” Grace said.

Cole held his breath for a moment, then said, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not usually. Maybe you inspired me. Should I
apologize?”

She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes as dark and
unreadable as they’d ever been. “Do you think you should?”

Did he? He studied her. Her face was still pale. Her hair still
wild. And her dark eyes watched him as if she’d never trusted anyone. But her
cheeks and mouth were the prettiest pink he’d ever seen.

Cole turned, easing her down to lie on her side, facing him. He
dipped his head to kiss her, and for a moment she seemed startled and pulled
away. He met her gaze, then tried again, moving slower, and this time, she held
still as he pressed a kiss to those pink lips. After a few moments, he felt her
body relax against him and her mouth offered a kiss of its own.

He trailed his finger along her jaw. “I don’t want to
apologize. Because I liked it and I think you did, too. Should I take that
back?”

Her eyes slid away. When she moved, he thought she was getting
up. It’d been intense, yes, but maybe he’d offended her. He’d gotten caught up
in the scalding heat of the moment, and he hadn’t thought about what it might
mean to her. To have a man she barely knew take her as if he’d die if he didn’t
get deep enough.

Shit. But that’s exactly what it had felt like. He
should’ve—

She shifted one last time, and then stopped moving. She faced
away from him now, but she was still lying down, still pressed to his body. Her
ass snug against his hips. Her back to his chest. God, he wished they were
naked.

“No,” she said to the space in front of her. “I don’t want you
to apologize.”

Cole let out the breath he’d been holding, exhaling as slowly
as possible so she wouldn’t be aware.

“I was just surprised,” she added.

“Me, too.”

She turned her head enough to shoot him an inscrutable look,
then settled back down with her head on her arm. He wanted to curl his own arm
under her and pull her tighter against him, but he had the feeling she might
bolt if he did that. She’d barely let herself be kissed, which struck him as
odd. After all, she’d just come twice for him.

Shit.

Twice.

But regardless of her prickly nature, Cole needed to touch her,
so he put his hand to her waist, his fingers resting against the stark black
lines of her tattoo. “When did you get this?”

“The tat? A few years ago.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

She shrugged. “What’s to tell? It’s a tree.”

“A dead tree?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s bare for the winter.”

“Come on. You must know. Tell me what it means.”

Her laugh was just a humorless huff of impatience. “It means I
dated a tattoo artist when I was twenty-three. That’s all.”

“I don’t believe you. If that’s all it was, you’d have a Celtic
cross on your shoulder or a unicorn on your ass.”

That got a real laugh out of her, at least. He didn’t realize
she’d gone stiff against him until she relaxed. “So you checked for unicorns
when you were back there?”

“I did. That’s one more horn than I’m comfortable with in these
situations.” He could practically feel her smile.

“You’re funny, you know that? You have any tattoos? Maybe a
lucky horseshoe or a spur?”

“A heart with ‘Ma’ written in elaborate script?”

“Something like that.”

“You can check me over later. Be thorough, all right?”

“You wish.”

“Oh, you’ve got that right, Miss Grace.”

She laughed, and her body relaxed a tiny bit more. Maybe if he
could get her to melt into him, she’d relax in other ways, as well. Maybe she’d
tell him something about herself. Anything. Though if he couldn’t get her to
melt after two orgasms, the girl might be made of steel.

“I should go,” she murmured, but she didn’t move. If she didn’t
want to leave, he’d give her every reason to stay.

He smoothed his thumb along her ribs. “Tell me about your new
job,” he said, hoping he’d picked the right topic. It’d been a long time since
he’d held a woman like this. Even longer since it had felt so natural. Strange
that it was with someone who represented everything he’d run from.

“I’m working with a photographer named Eve Hill. I hoped she’d
hire me to do makeup, you know? But she needed more help than that, so I’m
working more hours than I expected, and trying out new things.” She flashed a
smile over her bare shoulder. “Clearly.”

Clearly? Did she mean him? He pressed his mouth to her shoulder
blade, amazed that her skin could be so soft when she did everything she could
to make herself look hard.

“I didn’t think I’d be so good at it, but it’s working out.
Thanks to you.”

“Me?” he asked. “Are we talking about your job now? Or sex?
Because yeah, you were damn good at that, but…”

She snorted. “The job, obviously.”

“I’m not following you.”

“The ranch!”

He’d just been putting his mouth to her skin again, but he
froze at her words. “What do you mean ‘the ranch’?” The warm press of her skin
suddenly felt claustrophobic.

“Easy Creek! Obviously I couldn’t have found that site for Eve
unless you’d taken me there. Turned out it was perfect.”

Shock washed through him like water through a sieve. “You did
that?”

“Did what?”

“You brought those people to Easy Creek?”

“Yes! Apparently there was a location scout in town until last
month. He went out of business, so Eve has been taking up the slack. Yesterday,
when they described the kind of place they were looking for, I knew the ranch
was perfect. So, thank you.”

“Thank you?”
He pushed up, trying
to get away from her.

“Hey!” she protested when he nearly knocked her off the
couch.

He finally managed to get to his feet and stalked away. “Are
you kidding me?”

“What’s wrong?”

He turned to see her standing next to the couch, arms shielding
her breasts, expression wary at his sudden change of mood.

“What’s wrong?”
he repeated. “How
could you have done that to me? That’s my place of work, it’s not some scenic
stop on a damn tour, Grace.”

Her jaw fell.

“I can’t believe you,” he said, but then he laughed. “Actually,
I can. I don’t know why I’d find it hard to believe that a girl like you would
think it meant nothing to bring fifty assholes out to my ranch and let them run
wild.”

“
A girl like me?
Are you kidding
me? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re one of them. It’s so obvious. I should’ve
known better than to think anything different. Jesus, I delivered Easy Creek to
you with a goddamn bow!”

Grace stalked toward the door, brushing past him with a glare.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not it. You’re way out of line.”

“Did you not once think that maybe you should’ve run it by me
before you dragged half of Hollywood out there?”

“No, as a matter of fact—” Her voice was cut off by the fabric
of her shirt as she yanked it over her head. Cole looked away from the sight of
her bare breasts.

“As a matter of fact, it didn’t occur to me, because it’s
not
your ranch. You don’t own it. Hell, you don’t even
live there. So, no. It didn’t once occur to me that I needed your permission.
Asshole.”

With that, she stalked out of the apartment. His door hit the
wall and bounced back so hard that it closed. Cole wanted to go over and open it
again, just so he could slam it himself. Instead, he had to be satisfied with
the convulsive bang of her door slamming.

It had been her.

Her.

She was the one who’d done this to him.

He was breathing so hard he felt as if he’d just run a mile. He
was an idiot. Getting involved with a woman like her. He should have known
better. He
had
known better.

“Shit!” he roared. He wanted to punch something, but the last
thing he needed was a broken hand on top of this broken leg. For once, that
wasn’t hurting. He was too fucking pissed to feel anything. Except the rage.

He paced to the door, then across the living room. He rolled
his shoulders, trying to slough off the weight that had settled there. But he
couldn’t budge it. It felt like the air was pushing in on him. The walls.

Cole grabbed his shirt and his keys and walked out. And he
finally got to slam the door. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
HERE
WAS
ONE
LINE
OF
GROUT
above the tub that was whiter than all the
others. Grace knew this because she’d been standing in the shower staring at it
for the past fifteen minutes. The room got steamier and steamier, but that one
line still glowed white. A repair, maybe. Or just a defect.

Which brought her back to her life.

“God,” she groaned, rubbing her hands over her face.

She’d taken a shower when she’d gotten home last night, but
she’d hoped another long, hot shower this morning would clear the confusion from
her head. So far, nothing. And she had to get to work soon.

Work. At the same place where Cole Rawlins worked.

“Great. Another superintelligent move, Grace Barrett.” What the
hell had she been thinking, sleeping with a
cowboy?

“A girl like you,”
she muttered.
That’s what he’d called her.
A girl like you.
How
had he dared to throw something like that at her after he’d had sex with
her?

She’d known. That was the worst part. She’d known he’d only
wanted her because she was different and dangerous. Known he’d wanted to have
sex with her even though he’d avoided driving her all the way to the ranch. The
sex hadn’t had anything to do with
liking
her. It
never had anything to do with liking her.

Which was fine. Just fine. Because she’d taken what she wanted
from him, hadn’t she? She’d gotten off. Twice. That was a lot better than most
one-night stands. And hell, as badly as it had ended, even that wasn’t the worst
post-sex exit she’d ever suffered. So screw it.

“Screw it,” she assured herself, turning off the shower.
Whatever his problem was, he could deal with it. She had work to do, and she’d
be damned if she’d let some oversexed cowboy mess up her plans. She had a lot
more riding on this job than her feelings.

It took ten minutes to do her makeup, and another ten to dry
her hair and work in a tiny bit of her dwindling supply of styling product. She
got dressed in the last of her work-suitable outfits and was out the door with
ten minutes to spare. Thankfully, she got no glimpse of Cole on her way out.

Unthankfully, Shane was coming down the stairs as she locked
her door.

“Morning, Grace,” he drawled, tipping his hat.

“Shane,” she said without inflection. Had Cole told him
already? Bragged about banging the new chick? It was fine if he had, she just
didn’t like not knowing. And Shane wasn’t giving anything away. He simply dipped
his chin and strolled out the front door. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but
she couldn’t tell what he was thinking and that left her on edge.

At least Cole seemed honest about what he felt, whether that
was lust or disdain. Though at the moment, on her way to a place where he’d be,
that seemed less like a benefit.

Maybe she wouldn’t be needed at the ranch site today at all. Or
maybe Cole would be out on the range, or something.

While she was waiting impatiently for the bus to arrive, her
cell phone rang. Merry’s name popped onto the screen and made her smile.

“Hey, Merry,” she said in relief.

“Hey, yourself. What are you doing? Have they crowned you rodeo
queen of Wyoming yet?”

“No, but soon. I can feel it.”

Merry laughed until she snorted. “What are you doing?”

“I’m on my way to work. You won’t believe what I’m doing.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t ask. But is it strippergrams? I thought they
told you they only hired girls with boobs.”

Grace leaned against a streetlight and laughed so hard she had
to close her eyes. “No, it’s not any form of stripping, so whatever you were
about to say about working the pole, drop it.”

“Like it’s hot?” Merry cooed.

“Yes. What I’m really doing is working with a location scout.
On a Madeline Beckingham movie.”

“Are you kidding me? Oh, my God. Are there robots and
explosions and stuff?”

“No, this one is about monsters. And cowboys. Hence the
location. But it’s more than I could’ve hoped for. An industry job in Wyoming.
And the pay is good.”

“Speaking of—”

“I’m not moving to Dallas!”

“That’s not what I meant. Scott called me.”

Grace’s heart dropped with such suddenness that she felt dizzy.
She pressed her shoulder harder to the streetlight to be sure she didn’t fall.
“Merry—”

“He left a pissed-off message, asking if I knew where you were.
He says if you don’t call him, you’ll be sorry.”

“I…”

“What a dick,” Merry snarled. “Oh, my God. I hate that
guy.”

“I know,” Grace breathed. Lights danced behind her eyes. He
hadn’t said anything more. Merry didn’t know.

“You should’ve left him a long time ago.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Listen, my bus is almost here.”

“Okay, I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Call him if you
want, but I don’t think you should. I blocked his number, so it makes no
difference to me. But I thought you should know he called.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want me to call him back? Tell him to go to hell?”

“No!”

Merry laughed. “Are you sure? I could tell him he’s no good at
oral sex. Isn’t that what you said? He tried that alphabet trick on you
once?”

Relief made Grace smile. “Yeah. But I almost had him trained by
the end.
Almost.
”

“Good for you.”

“My bus is here,” Grace said, relieved that it was the truth
and she didn’t have to lie to her best friend any more than she already had.

“Okay. Have a great day. Say hi to Madeline Beckingham for
me.”

“Sure.”

“I love you, Grace.”

“Me, too,” she said. It was the only response she ever gave.
But Merry’s words filled her up with a warm feeling. Such a warm feeling that by
the time she stepped onto the bus, her panic had almost faded entirely.

She had nothing to be unhappy about, after all. It was a
beautiful day, nobody on the bus tried to start a pleasant conversation, she had
a roof over her head and she was earning money. Plus, she’d fucked out all her
stress last night.

Heck, yeah, she had.

So when Grace stepped off the bus, she put a little extra sway
into her step and clomped her way down the wooden sidewalk.

“‘Stay gold, Ponyboy,’” she said with a smile as she opened the
door to the studio.

“What?” Eve asked from behind the counter. She looked up from
some prints she’d been reviewing. “What’s a ponyboy?”

Grace flushed. Apparently Eve had never seen
The Outsiders.
Merry watched it once a year and made
Grace watch it, too. “Nothing. Sorry. Just a movie joke.”

“For…yourself?”

“Yes.”

Eve just nodded and slipped the photos back into an envelope.
“Ready for a long day?”

“I’m ready. Are we heading back out to the ranch?”

“Yes, I’ll drop you off there. I’ll be working at the
river.”

“Great,” she said, not quite meaning it. She wasn’t exactly
worried about seeing Cole again, but she didn’t want to put up with his glaring
face first thing in the morning. Especially without caffeine. She still didn’t
have a coffeemaker, and she’d forgotten to stop for a cup at the gas
station.

But Eve rode to the rescue. Or she drove to it, pulling up to a
drive-through coffee place. Grace nearly wept with happiness at the smell. A
real latte. My God. It had been weeks.

By the time they bounced over the last few yards of the ranch
road, Grace was ready to face Cole. It was a good thing she’d braced herself,
because as soon as she got out of Eve’s car, he looked up from a conversation
and his gaze caught hers.

She raised one eyebrow. He lowered both of his.

“God,” she muttered. “Men.”

“You already have man problems?” Eve asked from just beside
her.

Grace winced, realizing she’d muttered out loud. “Kind of.”

“One of these production guys bothering you?”

“Nobody bothers me,” Grace said.

“Good for you. You know any of these people?”

She glanced around. “Probably not. They’re mostly
preproduction. Not a lot of call for makeup.”

“All right. You’ve got my phone number if you need me. And if I
get out of cell range, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. The catering’s been
lined up, so we can grab lunch here when I get back.”

And just like that, Grace was in charge again. Well, not in
charge of much. Just her side of things. Clearing up problems. Making phone
calls. She’d have to add more minutes to her phone. Maybe even get a real
plan.

No, that was too permanent. When she went to Vancouver things
would be tight, and money uncertain. But… For the first time, it occurred to her
that she might have more options. Working in makeup was a pretty narrow field.
Sure, there might be a perfect opening now, but there was a good chance she’d
find nothing afterward, and she’d probably stay in Vancouver for a little
while.

But preproduction stuff? Location work? That could open up a
whole new world for her, at least until she could get settled and figure out her
next step.

If
Eve were willing to give her a
recommendation, Grace might be able to slip in on the ground floor of a company.
And Eve seemed to like her. In fact, she treated Grace like an equal, as if she
weren’t a stranger in a strange land. Maybe her time in Wyoming would be less
like limbo and more like a season away from her real life. Nothing to be taken
seriously, but nothing terrible either.

She looked up from entering lot dimensions into a laptop and
caught Cole looking at her. She aimed her most emotionless stare at him.

Okay, not a season away from her real love life, apparently.
That was as screwed up and nonsensical as ever.

Cole looked away first. Good. She didn’t know what the hell he
was so upset about. She hadn’t taken anything from him. He was still at the
ranch, still walking around in his tight, dirty jeans and button-down shirt.
Still wearing his scuffed cowboy boots and worn hat.

He glanced up and found her still looking, then tugged the brim
lower before turning away.

Grace smiled and bent back to her task.

Did he think she couldn’t handle this? Sex without the
niceness? Hell, that was the way she preferred it. He could call her anything he
wanted; he couldn’t take back her orgasms. And that was the point of sex, after
all. Getting off. So, a complete success.

Ignoring the fact that she seemed to be trying to talk herself
into something, Grace held her smile. But it fell away when her eye caught on a
woman who looked familiar.

Grace looked down at the computer, then slowly up again. This
time the young blonde woman was looking back at her, and Grace’s heart sped up.
She knew this woman, but how? Her ice-blond hair was cut into a symmetrical bob
that framed her lush face. Her eyes narrowed on Grace, but this time, Grace
didn’t look away.

Who was she?

Grace suddenly placed her, picturing her lips painted red and
her petite body encased in a skintight scarlet dress. She’d met this woman at a
party once. But which one?

Though Grace looked back to the spreadsheet on the computer
screen, she didn’t see it. She was rifling through memories, instead. A year
ago, there wouldn’t have been nearly as many parties to remember, and few that a
woman like that would’ve attended.

But Scott had made his mark on Grace’s life. At first, his
gentle suggestions about her career had felt like help. She’d been a great
makeup artist, in demand with a certain population. Artsy filmmakers and
independents had loved her. But Scott had pushed her to want more and try
harder.

At first it had been thrilling, getting work on big-budget
movies, but she hadn’t quite fit in. And she’d rubbed people the wrong way. But
Scott had been so happy. She’d been his ticket from TV to film. Introductions.
Industry parties. He’d been thrilled. And Grace had been miserable.

She might’ve broken it off at that point, but then she’d been
fired. And bad-mouthed by that asshole director. And Scott had let her move into
his place. A favor. A blessing.

But after a while she’d become extraneous. Worse than that.
She’d become a liability. An edgy girl in a world of glamour. A tough girl
forced to rub elbows with beauties like that blonde.

Who was she? More important, did she know Scott?

Grace looked back up, trying to seem natural instead of
nervous. The woman was gone. Grace slumped in relief.

Nothing to be worried about. Everything was fine.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Hello,” a cool voice said from just behind her.

Grace spun around to find the blonde eyeing her with a less
than friendly smile.

“You’re with the scouting team?”

“Yes. Hi,” Grace said.

“I’m Willa,” the woman said, not offering a hand. “Willa
James.”

“I’m Grace.”

Her fake smile tightened. “Grace,” she repeated. “Of course.
You’re from L.A., right? We’ve met before.”

Grace’s heart began to pound, but she tried to tell herself it
was fine. She’d met thousands of people during her career. Hell, she might have
even met thousands of people at parties.

“I am,” she finally said, and left it at that.

Willa. Her mind scrambled.
Willa.
Willa, who was the girlfriend of Malcolm? Who was a good friend of Diane. Who
maybe knew Scott from—

“What are you doing in Wyoming?” Willa pressed.

“Working.”

She sneered. “Aren’t you a makeup artist? Are you here to make
sure the crew look good?”

Adrenaline flooded her veins and she snapped, “Yes, exactly.
I’m making the lighting guys pretty.” But she immediately regretted it. This
woman knew her somehow. And Grace couldn’t afford to go pissing people off
anymore.