Close Enough to Touch (14 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I’
VE
GOTTA
GET
THIS
,”
Cole
ground out to the production assistant who was trying to get him to agree that
the barn corral could indeed be easily moved to a place that got better natural
light. “Excuse me.”

Cole glanced at the screen of his cell phone, didn’t recognize
the number, and still breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever it was had to be better
than this boy who looked eighteen years old and didn’t have a lick of common
sense.

“Hello?” He headed straight down the trail that led from the
barn to the meadow corral. The background noise of two dozen people began to
fade behind him. But there was no answer on the phone. “Hello?” he repeated.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” a rushed female voice
said.

“Okay. Who is this?”

“There’s no spare tire in her car.”

“Grace?” he asked, feeling stupid even as he said it. Of course
it wasn’t Grace. She was… He glanced around, realizing he hadn’t seen her
since—

“I’m sorry to spring this on you, Cole, but I don’t have a
credit card to pay for a tow and the spare tire isn’t in the trunk and I can’t
be late or they’ll think…”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know. About halfway toward the ranch after I turn off
the highway?”

“Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Really? You’ll come?”

Cole looked at the people milling about. The crowd had thinned
out, at least. But Madeline was still here, ruling over them all from the front
porch of the big house. “Yeah. See you in a few.”

Just like that, he escaped, the way he’d been wanting to all
day. But the escape was bittersweet, because he knew he’d be returning in half
an hour. But he had work to do. Real work. The horses were stressed from the
ruckus and traffic, and Cole had decided they’d be better off at the meadow
corral than in the barn. These were ranch horses. They could handle sleeping in
the lean-to for a few nights during the summer. They didn’t need blankets or
even a roof over their heads, and they could take on coyotes with a well-placed
kick.

But like Cole, they couldn’t take these people with their
earpieces and notepads and sunglasses and hard laughter.

As soon as he was out of the yard, Cole rolled down the windows
of his truck and turned off the radio. He wanted some peace and quiet, and if
rescuing Grace got him thirty minutes of peace, maybe she wasn’t so bad.

Ridiculous, though. Apparently she was way worse than he’d
imagined. A thief, huh? He wouldn’t have guessed that. Though he hadn’t liked
seeing her tortured earlier. Humiliated. Ironic that she’d been slapped in the
face by the people she’d brought here.

After all her tough talk, he wouldn’t have expected her to put
up with that kind of shit. But it seemed she was just like everyone else in
Hollywood—willing to give up every bit of herself to get near the dream. Kissing
ass. Apologizing for someone else treating her like shit.

When he saw her ten minutes later, she looked too small. She
stood at the side of the road, arms crossed and jaw set, and glared at his truck
as if Cole was to blame for whatever had happened. He pulled over and stared at
her for a moment, so small against the wide landscape.

Grace glared and motioned for him to hurry up. He wondered if
she’d bother with a thank-you.

“Hurry!” she said. When he opened the door, she rushed to
speak. “I have to get back as soon as possible!”

Nope. No polite thank-you. Not even an impolite one. But then
her face softened. Just for a split second before she got control. “I’m sorry.
Thank you for coming. I just…”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know if it was a nail or a leak or… The tire’s flat
and there’s no spare.”

“No spare?” He walked toward the car. “Pop the trunk.”

She rolled her eyes but opened the driver’s door and popped the
trunk. The well that should’ve held the spare was, indeed, empty.

“Oh, look!” Grace exclaimed in a saccharin-sweet voice. “I’m
not an idiot woman! It’s a miracle.”

“I’m here to help, you know.”

“Then help!”

He was surprised to find himself biting back a smile. “Fine.
We’ll need to get the tire off and take it into town for a repair.”

“No! I can’t be late, Cole. Please. Not after that. Eve’s car…
She’ll think… I just can’t be late.”

She wasn’t angry, he saw now. Not at all. She was scared.
Anxious. And a little panicked, too. Her dark eyes darted from the car to him to
his truck. “All right,” he said. “Get in. I’ll drive you and then come back for
the tire.”

“Wait!” she yelled and jumped to open the back door. She pulled
out what looked like a very fancy toolbox. “Okay. Let’s go!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered. Christ, she was bossy. He should be
happy to see her like this. Caught by the trouble she’d brought on them both.
Nearly as tortured by these people as he was. She’d brought them here. She’d
done this.

He opened the truck door for her before walking around to get
in the driver’s seat.

“I thought a herd of those antelope were going to swarm me at
any time,” she muttered.

“The pronghorn? You probably could’ve fought them off.”

“Oh, one, sure. But a whole herd? And this is right where we
saw them.”

“Well, you made it.”

“Yes. And, Cole—thanks for saving me. Really.” She crossed her
arms over her chest, and the movement made Cole think of her breasts. Naked.
Small and tight and hot under his mouth.

He shifted. He didn’t want to see her like this. Vulnerable and
worried. He wanted her to be a bitch again. The woman who’d completely screwed
up his life.

“You know Madeline Beckingham,” she said out of the blue.

That worked just fine to get him pissed again. “Yeah? How would
I know Madeline Beckingham?”

“You tell me, but it’s as obvious as the fact that there was no
spare in that car.”

Fine. Now he knew what to feel. Anger. And discomfort. “She
filmed a movie here a long time ago. I was an extra and I helped train some of
the others in Western riding.”

“Is that when you started hating girls like me?”

He shot a look at her and her eyes were back to normal now.
Dark and mocking him. Yet something was different. She’d changed her makeup at
some point. Instead of pure black, her makeup was smokier. Gray with a hint of
violet at the corners. She looked softer. Maybe that was what was throwing him
off. That, and the memory of her gasping into his ear as he got her off.

Jesus.

“Look, Grace. I’m sorry about last night. I was in a bad place
when I went to the bar. This movie shoot, it’s… Then I saw you, and…”

“And? What? You don’t like girls like me. You’ve made that
clear. So you saw me and, what?”

He shrugged. “I forgot about being pissed off. Forgot about the
movie shoot. About my leg. My future.”

“Your future?”

He waved off the question. “All the bullshit. And I didn’t
expect that the person helping me forget was the one who’d screwed me over.”

“Is that what I was doing? Helping you forget?”

He took his eyes off the road long enough to meet her gaze. Not
that it did any good. She showed him nothing. It drove him crazy, that she could
make herself so blank. “Isn’t that what I was doing for
you?
Helping you forget?”

She stared at him until he had to look back to the road. When
he broke the gaze, she laughed that jaded laugh again. “It was sex, Cole. What
you were doing for me was the same thing I was doing for you. Getting off.”

“I can get myself off,” he said. “I’d bet a hell of a lot of
money that you’re perfectly capable of jacking off, too. So whatever it is for
you, it isn’t just coming.”

“You’re wrong,” she whispered.

“No, I’m not. And I got really pissed because I thought you
were one thing to me, and you turned out to be something else.”

“Well, I’m so sorry, Cole!” she snapped. “I guess I wasn’t the
right tool for the job.”

He clenched his teeth together, but she was making him see that
maybe things weren’t as black-and-white as he’d wanted them to be. She hadn’t
done anything wrong. Not from her perspective. She couldn’t have known that what
she’d done would stomp all over the most fragile parts of his life. The wounds
that had healed all wrong. And if she couldn’t have known that, if it hadn’t
been malicious, then Cole was being an asshole.

She’d slept with him. She’d been happy. And celebrating. She’d
slept with him as part of that. And he’d thanked her for it by treating her like
shit.

If she wasn’t the woman he wanted her to be, that wasn’t her
problem.

Cole swallowed a curse and rubbed a hand against his thigh.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Shouldn’t have done what?” she challenged. “Fuck me?”

“No. I mean, that might be your take on it at this point.”

“No. I got off, right? The rest of it hardly matters.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” she asked. She offered a tight smile when he looked
at her. “You’ve been honest, at least. You want my feelings to be hurt? You want
me to feel like shit because you didn’t walk me to my door and tell me I was
special afterward? Well, sorry. I don’t. It takes more than that, cowboy.”

“Grace. I’m sorry. Even if your feelings weren’t hurt. Even if
you don’t give a shit and I was nothing more than a fun ride for you. I’m sorry.
I like you, and I shouldn’t have—”

“You don’t know anything about me,” she said, her voice soft
and yet somehow cutting through his words like a machete.

“I know a little. I wish I knew more.”

“Ha. You’ve made pretty sure you’re never going to know
anything more. Girls like
me?
We don’t give that
kind of knowledge up easily. And if you know anything about me, anything at all,
then that was accidental. That wasn’t anything I meant to give you.”

“Yeah. I get that.” He knew she was trying to be tough, but she
was breaking his heart. She didn’t want to show him anything, which just made
him want to see it all.

“But,” she said carefully, “we can have sex again, if you
want.”

“What?” He exhaled the word on a shocked sigh.

“It was good. It’d be even better if you kept your mouth shut
afterward.”

They were almost to the ranch. The truck passed under the sign.
Shadows flashed over his face and then disappeared. Cole had no idea what to
say. He was half horrified and half aroused. The obvious answer was, “Yes. Let’s
do that.” But instead, he heard his mouth say, “Why?”

Why?
What the hell? He was losing
his mind.

“Why not?” she answered.

He didn’t realize he’d stopped, but Grace was opening the door.
She hopped out, transferred her box to one hand and closed the truck door
without another word.

If you want.

If he wanted? Jesus. He couldn’t even get out of the truck now,
not without embarrassing himself. And once again, Grace Barrett had managed to
banish every one of his worries. Even the one that was watching from right
across the yard.

* * *

F
OR
A
MOMENT
, Eve looked genuinely worried. Grace saw it clearly on the
woman’s face as she hurried down the steps of the porch and rushed over.
“Where’s my car?”

“A tire went flat and there was no spare.”

“Oh,” she said, then the worry was chased away by a grimace.
“Oh, my God, I keep forgetting to replace it. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes, Cole gave me a ride and he’s going back to grab the tire
and get it patched.”

“He doesn’t have to do that. I’ll call a tow truck.”

Grace gestured toward the truck that was already pulling away.
“Too late.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about the car.”

“It’s no big deal.” No big deal, and yet they both lapsed into
silence and stood in an awkward limbo for too many seconds. “It’s not true,”
Grace finally said. “What Willa said about me. I know you don’t have any reason
to believe me, Eve. But I don’t have a drinking problem. I don’t do drugs. And
I’m not a…a thief.” The last word was hard to get out. It felt shameful just to
have to say it.

She’d made herself back into that teenage girl who’d run from
everyone, including the police.

And these days, she might set herself apart from other people
in terms of appearance, but she did it on purpose. She tried very hard to walk a
fine line between respectability and edginess.

As a kid, she hadn’t had that choice. She’d lived on the
streets. If her hair had looked wild then, it was because it had needed a good
wash and a cut. And if her eyes had looked dark and angry, they had been. And
those tattered clothes? They really had been dug out of a box outside the door
of a soup kitchen. She’d lived like that for two years after she’d run away.
She’d stolen things. She’d lied and schemed and done what she’d needed to for
food. She’d never actually sold her body, but there’d been a constant,
unacknowledged negotiation between her heart and her mind, hadn’t there? Men
whose interest had been more interesting because they had a place. Or a car. Or
enough money to pay for dinner without even thinking about it. She’d rarely
slept with a boy who’d been like her. A hustler. A street kid.

So she could say she’d never been a whore. She could tell
herself that, but she couldn’t say she’d never been a thief. Maybe that was why
it stung so badly now. Because she really was one.

She swallowed hard as the silence pressed harder against her
skin. “I’m sorry about that, Eve. And I understand if you think it’s best if
we…if I…don’t…”

“Grace, I’ve lived alone since I was twenty-two. I’ve owned my
own business for years. I’ve never had a business partner. Never been married.
Every decision is my own, and I have to trust my gut. And my gut says I like
you. It also tells me that Willa chick is a superficial bitch. So, let’s leave
it at that, all right?”