Close Enough to Touch (15 page)

“But you must wonder—”

“Okay, I’ll admit that I had a fleeting moment of thinking I
was an idiot to hand a near stranger my car keys and wish her the best. But here
you are. And my car is allegedly still intact.” She smiled, and not for the
first time, Grace noticed that sadness in her eyes. Maybe it was always there.
Maybe it was only obvious when she smiled.

But whatever it was, she was choosing to give Grace a
chance.

“I have a reputation in L.A.,” Grace admitted. “It might be my
fault. I can have an attitude. I don’t like to kiss anyone’s ass, even if
they’re my boss. But I’m good at what I do, and I try to keep my head down.
Still, there’s always that one situation, you know? Where you have to say that
something isn’t right, even if speaking up will get you into trouble. I’ve made
mistakes, but most of them I wouldn’t take back.”

“Good. I’ve worked at the edges of this industry for a while
now. I see the bull that goes on. And, um, let’s just say I see hints of
inflexibility in your personality.”

“Ha. That’s a nice way to say it.”

“Whatever it is, I can see how you might be like oil in their
water sometimes. But let’s see if you and I can manage to make it work. Just
please remember that you’re representing me right now. So if you get into one of
those situations again? Maybe run it by me first?”

Grace felt a surprising rush of emotion. There was no reason
for Eve to give her a chance. There was every reason for her to cut her losses
and let Grace go. Grace felt grateful and touched, and that made her feel
uncomfortable. Strangely, she would almost rather Eve had fired her. Then Grace
could be mad. She could walk away and not look back and tell herself it hadn’t
been the right job for her anyway.

She knew how to handle people being mean to her, but kindness?
That felt like a burden.

“Thank you,” she said, hoping that would be enough.

“You’d better take care of Madeline. The film crew will be here
anytime.”

“Sure. Of course.”

“And I’m still setting up the shots and camera angles for
production. By the time we’re done with that, it should be time to go. Oh, and
your makeup looks nice, by the way. Good idea.”

“Thanks.”

Grace had redone her makeup when she’d stopped for her kit.
She’d changed it subtly, softening it up to offer visual reassurance to the
client. She could use her skills to put people at ease, just as carefully as she
normally used them to keep people at bay. She was growing up. She could do
this.

Still, she approached Madeline warily, half-sure that Willa
would’ve been working her magic in the past two hours, feeding lies bit by bit
into the ear of the director.

But Willa was sitting a dozen feet away, pouting and scrolling
through something on her phone. She glanced up as Grace walked past and
muttered, “Bitch.”

Grace rolled her eyes.

“You made me look like a fool.”

Grace didn’t know what to say to a girl who’d throw someone
under the bus and then accuse them of making her look bad. Under normal
circumstances, Grace would probably walk over and call her every foul name in
the book. But not today. Not here. She kept walking and swallowed back her
anger.

Madeline Beckingham was on the porch, still ruling over a small
kingdom, looking over sketches and issuing directions to the men gathered around
her.

“Oh, thank God,” she said when she looked up and saw Grace.
“They’re on their way from Jackson Airport right now.”

“Don’t worry. I’m quick.”

“I want to look natural. Make me look as though my skin is
naturally flawless, even in the sun. Got it?”

“Of course.”

“And you may find a few stray scars near my ears from a medical
procedure. Cover them up.”

Madeline was only in her forties, but apparently she’d already
had a face-lift. Maybe she had a soft jawline or too much sun damage. Whatever
her reasons, the face-lift was a good one. Grace wouldn’t have guessed, but
scars were never hidden from makeup artists or hairstylists.

By the time she’d finished Madeline Beckingham’s makeup, Grace
felt more herself again. Maybe not ready to take on the world, but ready to take
on one shitty ex-boyfriend and a bitchy production assistant. And maybe even an
irritable cowboy.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

C
OLE
WAS
MUCKING
OUT
THE
LAST
of the stalls when the scuff of a boot told him he wasn’t alone.

“You hanging in there?” Easy asked.

Cole didn’t look up. “I’m still upright, ain’t I?”

“Yeah. You don’t look any worse for wear either.”

“Probably because I haven’t done any real work in days.”

Easy snorted. “You’re doing real work now.”

“I’m doing the work of a ten-year-old. Should only take me
about twenty years to work my way back up to ranch boss. Thirty if I stay
part-time.”

“Cole,” Easy said, one syllable that chastised him for talking
back like a child.

Cole heard the scolding in that word and shook his head. He set
the head of the rake on the floor and steadied his arm against the handle. When
he finally looked at Easy, Cole saw the same man he’d known his whole life. Worn
and silver-haired. Small-boned but tough as nails. Nobody had ever given Easy
anything. He’d worked for every damn thing he owned. Worked since he was six
years old and left with a sick mom and no father.

Cole’s own father had been a good man, but he’d been hard. Yet
somehow still run over by life. Easy, on the other hand, had an inherent
strength that had never turned brittle. It seemed as though he could make things
happen by sheer will alone. Easy and Cole’s father had met at twelve and been
friends from then on. Both good men. Both good cowboys. But Cole’s dad had been
a bitter ranch hand who’d owned nothing more than his boots and his saddle when
he’d died from a heart attack at age fifty-two. Anything else that had ever
belonged to him, including Cole’s mother, had been lost somewhere along the way.
Even Cole hadn’t been around.

He swallowed hard at that memory. It still made him sick. He’d
been out in L.A. with people who didn’t know him and didn’t give a damn. His dad
had died alone.

As for Easy, Cole had always thought he’d known Easy as well as
he knew his own father. Better, even. But now—hell, he had no idea what he knew
anymore.

They stared at each other. “What?” Cole finally asked.

“You want to tell me why you’re so mad?”

He laughed, but the sound was pure anger. “You must be kidding.
You’ve basically told me you think I might be a weak, frightened coward hiding
out in the mountains from the things that scare me most.”

“I said I’m afraid you—”

“Yeah. I get it. You’re afraid I’m not the man you hoped I’d
be. You’re not sure. Fine. That makes me feel better, Easy.”

“That’s not how it is, Cole!”

“Then tell me how it is. Because right now, it feels like a big
pile of shit, and I’m not talking about the muck in this stall,” he snarled,
tossing the rake on the ground, where it bounced and banged before settling. “A
test to see if I’m a real man, huh? To see if I’m worthy of filling your shoes?
You should’ve made this easier on yourself. You should’ve listened to my dad
from the start. Then you wouldn’t have had any doubt.”

His words fell into silence. Cole felt his cheeks flush and
looked away from Easy’s calm stare.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about it,” Easy finally said.
“Your dad was a good man.”

“I know,” Cole said heavily, rubbing a hand over the ache in
his chest. “I know that.”

“But he was wrong about you, Cole. You were a hard worker, but
you were still a kid. You deserved to take a little time to find your way in the
world.”

“I let him down, Easy. And I let myself down, so don’t tell me
he shouldn’t have been disappointed. He was a good man, and I—”

“He
was
a good man. And he was
scared to death. He didn’t like seeing this place turn into a playground for
rich folk. He watched them change things. He watched them come and go through
here, and he was afraid one day you’d go with them.”

Cole pressed his fingers into the ache under his breastbone.
“And that’s just what I did.”

“You were gone for all of two months, Cole. That’s a summer
vacation.”

“It was long enough to break his heart.”

“You didn’t—”

Cole cut his hand through the air. “I don’t want to talk about
this, Easy. I know what happened.”

Easy glared at him, jaw set in a stubborn line. But Cole could
be stubborn, too, when he wanted. He met Easy’s glare with his own. Finally,
Easy sighed and shook his head.

“Fine. We’ll talk about that later. The bigger issue here is
that I don’t want you to throw this opportunity away.”

“What opportunity?”

“That last time, you loved working on that movie.”

Even after everything else, this shocked the hell out of Cole.
He felt his jaw drop. He laughed in complete shock. “Are you crazy?
Opportunity?
To work on a movie? What are you talking
about? I’m a cowboy, Goddamn it!”

“You have been, yes. A good cowboy. A great hand. A man to be
proud of. But you need to consider the worst here, Cole. Your leg—”

“My leg is fine,” Cole snapped.

“Cole.”

“It’s
fine.
I can’t even believe
you’re bringing it up. In a couple of weeks, I’ll be back out there.”

Not liking the way Easy was looking at him, Cole shook his head
and picked up the rake again. “Come on, Easy. If that’s what you’re worrying
about, set it aside. Jesus.”

He felt a little strange. Dizzy. He didn’t want to talk about
this anymore, but Easy just kept staring.

Cole started to turn away to finish his work, but one of the
ancient barn doors swung open and there she was. Madeline Beckingham herself
stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.

Cole and Easy were both frozen for a moment, caught by the
dramatic sight of dust motes dancing in front of her gilded silhouette.

“Cole Rawlins, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you
hiding from me?” She laughed as if the idea were hilariously ludicrous. Cole
didn’t crack a smile. “Come on. I need to find a horse to ride out to that
little bridge past the tree line.”

“I thought that’s what all the trucks were here for.”

“Documentary shoot,” she said. “A horse is going to look a
whole lot better than an SUV. Plus it’s been nearly a year since I’ve ridden,
and you know how much I love horses.”

Yeah. She loved horses. Or she loved the romance of them. The
drama and style. The same way she loved the cowboy boots and tasseled belt she
was currently wearing. Her family had owned a home here when she was a kid, but
that didn’t make her a local.

“Come on!” she said, waving both her arms.

Cole glanced at Easy. “You letting her use the horses?”

“If she can ride, I don’t see a problem with it.”

“Great.”

Though everything inside him told Cole to move away from
Madeline, he walked toward her.

“You’re a lot more serious than you used to be,” she said,
looping her arm through his to turn him toward the distant corral. Seemed they
were going to take a leisurely stroll.

“I’m not a kid anymore,” he said darkly.

“Yeah? I thought you were pretty nicely grown-up back then. But
I have to admit, I kind of like your new dark and dangerous side.”

He clenched his teeth and kept walking.

“We never got to say goodbye, you know.”

“Somehow, I didn’t think you noticed.”

“Oh, come on, Cole.” She squeezed his arm tighter against her,
making sure his muscles pressed into her breast. “You know how much I liked
you.”

He did know, as a matter of fact. Because she’d discussed it
with her friend during sex. With him. With both of them.

Jesus, he’d thought he’d died and gone to heaven when he’d
figured out exactly what the “special date” was. Her girlfriend was in town from
London to discuss financing a film, and apparently they liked to have fun
together. Lots of fun. Cole had been more than willing, but it had also
been…surprising. And strange. They’d talked about him as if he wasn’t there,
even as they’d used his body. They’d commented on him, cracked private jokes,
told him what they wanted and when they were done.

Strange or not, he’d been happy to contribute. But once the
thrill had worn off…

She nudged him to get his attention. “I have a dinner tonight,
but why don’t you come by afterward. We can have drinks. Get reacquainted.”

“No,” he said immediately.

“Are you seeing someone?”

He thought of Grace. “No.”

“Then come see me. It’s been a long time. Too long.”

He didn’t say anything in response. He’d already said no. That
was the end of it. But Madeline didn’t hear no very often.

“It was good, Cole. God, it was so good. I missed you when you
left. So, tonight when you’re not seeing anyone and you start remembering how
good it was…” She laughed. “Well, you know where I’m staying.”

He almost asked how many other people would be there. But that
would reveal too much. He was damned if he was going to reveal anything at
all.

“Oh, I want that pinto!” she said suddenly. “Can I have him?”
And that was about as much consideration as she gave men, too.

“Sure. The pinto’s fine. He’s young. He’ll probably be grateful
for the exercise.”

The joke went over her head. Or maybe it just hadn’t been very
funny.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

G
RACE
WAS
RELIEVED
she didn’t have to ride home alone with Eve. One of the preproduction
photographers recognized Eve from a photography retreat they’d attended years
before. He asked if she wanted to grab dinner, so Grace had ridden home in the
backseat, happy to shrink into the corner and pretend she wasn’t there.

Despite her new boss’s reassurances, Grace was still
self-conscious about that scene. Out of all the messes she’d managed to get
herself into over the years, that confrontation had been the most mortifying
moment. Because there was truth in it this time. Because she’d done something
really stupid.

She hadn’t meant to take anything from Scott, only what he’d
promised her. And then… God. She’d always been able to be arrogant about things
people had thrown in her face, because she made very sure that no one ever knew
enough about her to injure her. People could say anything they wanted, nobody
knew the real Grace Barrett.

But now people knew something real enough to hurt. Lots of
people.

When they got to the Stud Farm, Grace murmured a good-night and
slid quickly out of the car.

What the hell did it matter anyway?

This place was only a temporary resting point. She didn’t
really know these people and never would. She’d leave and they’d remember her as
a purple-haired chick with a shady reputation and a grumpy disposition. Hell, a
few years ago, the idea would’ve delighted her.

“Must be getting old,” she said as she hurried up the front
walk.

“Grace!” a female voice called from the blue dusk beyond her
sight. “Is that you?”

“Jenny?”

Jenny emerged from the shadow of the pine tree and waved. “Hey,
I’m off early tonight, so I’m glad I caught you! I already left a message for
Eve, but I didn’t have your number. Want to get together Sunday evening?”

“Eve?” she asked nervously.

“Yes, we both have birthdays next week, so I thought this would
be a fun way to celebrate.”

“By getting together with me? I don’t think so.”

“You promised we’d do makeovers!”

“Oh. I don’t…” She clutched the handle of her makeup kit
tighter, afraid her suddenly sweaty hand would lose its grip. “Eve’s my boss. I
don’t think she’d want to hang out with me.”

“This is a small town.” Jenny laughed. “It’s pretty slim
pickings as far as girlfriends go. Boyfriends, too, for that matter. If we
didn’t fraternize, we’d all just stay home. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh. I…” Crap. This would be awkward. Even if Eve would’ve said
yes yesterday, she wouldn’t say yes today. Why would she want to hang out with
someone like Grace? Someone she had to worry might steal her car?

“
Please?
Come on. You owe me. And
you promised. And Sunday’s my only night off this week.”

It would be fine, she told herself. Eve would say no. Of course
she would. “Okay. Sure. It sounds like fun.”

“Yea! I’ll give you my address later, all right? I can’t
wait!”

“Happy birthday,” Grace said as Jenny waved and disappeared
back toward the saloon. “Almost.” She heard Jenny calling goodbye to the people
lingering on the saloon porch, and then she heard the distinctive sound of the
woman’s muscle car starting. Grace didn’t know enough about cars to know the
make, but it was definitely American and old and it was definitely yellow.

That kind of car was almost exclusively driven by men, and
Grace liked that about Jenny. That she drove a loud car that looked like it
should be used for drag racing. Maybe Grace would buy a car like that someday.
Or maybe a motorcycle. She’d like that. She’d wear leather pants and a shiny
black helmet. She’d go anywhere she wanted. Fly across the country like a
bird.

The idea took hold of her. It grabbed her and held her heart in
a fist.

She could buy a bike. As soon as she paid Scott back. She could
buy something cheap and go anywhere. Chicago. New York. Toronto.

Anywhere.

The idea of getting back to a big city loosened the fist
squeezing her heart. God. She could fade back into the crowd. She could work
during the day and then sink into a life apart at night. Where she never saw the
same people and never knew anyone. And no one ever knew anything about her.

“God, yes,” she said and sighed. That was what she needed. To
be
unseen.

For now, she just wanted to get inside and take a shower and
collapse. On a secondhand sleeping bag. Well, it was better than a park bench
any day. There was a door that locked. Walls to keep her safe.

She glanced at Cole’s door as she walked to her own. She
thought of knocking. Thought of simply announcing to him that she needed some
stress relief. But she walked to her own door and went inside. She had something
to do first.

Grace took out her cell and carefully dialed Scott’s
number.

“Yeah?” he answered impatiently.

“What are you trying to do to me?” she ground out.

“Well, hello, Grace.” His familiar voice was tinged with an
equally familiar self-satisfaction. “I thought you might decide to finally
call.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Is that what this is about? A
phone call?”

“No. This is about getting my money back.”

She bit back the curses she wanted to rain down on him and made
herself speak calmly. “I already promised to pay you back. I have a plan,
and—”

“Somehow when I found out you’d skipped town without a word, I
doubted whether or not your promises were sincere.”

“They were. I swear. I’m working, damn it.”

“In Wyoming?”

“Yes, in Wyoming! And if you want your money back, it’s
probably not a good idea to tell the people employing me that I’m a thief!”

“Grace,” he said as he sighed, sounding exhausted. “You skipped
town. You haven’t paid back a dime. And you haven’t worked in months.”

“I’m working right now, and I told you I have another job lined
up in a few weeks. And I’m not a thief!”

“I don’t know what you think you are, but my eight thousand
dollars is gone and you took it.”

Grace rubbed her hand over her forehead. “I told you, I didn’t
mean to. You’d offered to loan me a thousand, and I thought the envelope—”

“I offered that loan when we were still together. Don’t play
dumb.”

She swallowed. Whatever Scott’s faults were, he wasn’t stupid.
She’d known when she’d “borrowed” that money that the loan offer probably didn’t
still apply. That’s why she’d grabbed the envelope and slipped it into her purse
without stopping to look at it. He’d never kept more than twelve or thirteen
hundred dollars around before. It was just household cash, not a savings
account.

“I believed you,” he said. “I didn’t want to think you’d steal
from me, but now I find out you’re partying in a ski town—”

“It’s the middle of summer and I’m working! My great-aunt lives
here and she gave me a place to stay.”

“I’ve never heard of this aunt before.”

“Yeah, we don’t hang out a lot. She’s seventy.”

“Look, Grace, I’m sorry, but…”

She tried to make herself breathe slowly, but her heart was
racing. “But what? Did you file charges?”

He was silent for so long that her hands started shaking.

“No,” he finally said. “But I will if I have to.”

“I gave up a lot for you,” she said past numb lips.

Scott’s laugh sounded genuinely confused. “You got fired and I
let you move in. What did you give up?”

“That’s not what I meant.” But even to her, the words sounded
weak. He couldn’t know what she’d given up. And it had been her job to say no to
it in the first place. “I’ll send you some money in a few days, all right? And
I’ll send all of it as soon as I can.”

She hung up before he could say anything else.

She had given up a lot. The only reason she’d been working on
that film set in the first place had been because of Scott. He’d wanted her to
be more successful, more mainstream. He’d convinced her that it was the next
logical step in her life. She’d gotten off the streets. She’d found her gift and
gone to school. And she’d slowly found some measure of security in her life. But
it had never
felt
secure. Crappy apartments, crappy
cars. Fun jobs with independent films that didn’t pay much. She’d supplemented
by working some print jobs, but she’d still lived pretty close to the bone.

But she’d lived on her terms. Her life had been good. Then
she’d met Scott and he’d started asking questions.
Why
don’t you push yourself? Where will you be in five years? Don’t you want to
challenge yourself?
He’d tapped into her insecurities about money and
safety. He’d convinced her that her life wasn’t enough. And she’d let him.

She’d changed for him, like those stupid girls with low
self-esteem she’d spent years mocking. Like her
mother.
She’d changed for a man and she’d lost everything. Just the
way she’d deserved to.

She’d never, ever do that again. Subvert her own needs. Make
herself small. Keep her head down in fear that she’d piss a guy off and he’d
kick her out.

Her mom had done that. Over and over. As far as Grace knew, her
mom was still doing it. Making herself into a meek partner for one man after
another.

Grace was just about to power down her phone when it rang. Her
thumb hovered over the red button as she waited for the caller ID to pop up.
When it did, it wasn’t Scott’s name. It was Cole’s.

“Can I interest you in a drink?” he asked as soon as she
answered.

“A drink,” she repeated, glancing toward her door.

“A drink. As a peace offering, maybe?” He sounded as if he was
trying to be charming, but there was a strain in the friendly drawl. Some rough
edge that snuck into the ends of his words. He was stressed out, and so was
she.

“You already apologized,” she said. “And I accepted. So I don’t
need a peace offering.”

“Right.”

Her hands were still trembling. Her head screamed with tension.
She took a deep breath. “But if what you’re really calling about is my proposal
that we have sex again, then yes. Let’s.”

Silence greeted her words. In fact, he was silent so long she
had time to walk to the kitchen and open the peanut butter.

“Now?” he finally said.

She grabbed a plastic knife. “In a few. If you want to.”

Another pause. Briefer this time. “Yes,” he said.

“Good. I’m going to take a shower. See you soon.” She hung up
and felt a tight smile stretch her mouth. Men were so funny. They never knew how
to react to a woman who approached sex the way a guy did. They thought it was a
trick. A mirage. As if she couldn’t want it as much as they did.

She liked that. Men always thought they were the ones doing the
using. They thought they were taking advantage or breaking you down. There was
nothing better than making it clear that with her, that wasn’t the case. She
needed a release right now, and she’d take it.

Half a peanut butter sandwich later, Grace realized she could
hear water humming distantly through pipes. Cole was getting in the shower. This
time, she wanted to see him naked, not just half-dressed. She wanted his whole
body under her hands.

The thought turned her on with immediate and startling
thoroughness. She wanted him naked and hard right now. She liked that she’d
shocked him. Liked that feeling of wicked power. She wanted more of it.

Grace tossed the last of her sandwich, too turned on to think
about anything but getting ready. For sex. With a big, rough cowboy who made her
say and do dirty things for him.

Hell, yeah. After this shitty day, that was just what she
needed. She showered and shaved and used the last of her favorite body cream,
loving the silky feel of her skin as she rubbed it in. She wanted him to moan
when he touched her. Wanted him turned on by the barest brush of skin.

She’d just finished drying her hair and touching on some eye
makeup when she heard a knock on the door. Cole. He couldn’t wait.

Grace stared at her reflection for a moment. He was right that
she wanted to use him to forget. She wanted the pleasure of his body to erase
everything, just for a little while. She’d never tell him that, but it was just
what she needed. Hot, hard sex with a guy who didn’t even want to like her.
Bring it on.

She turned off the light and walked slowly to the door.

“Want something?” she asked as she opened it. And then his
mouth was on hers, his body against her. Yeah, he wanted something. He wanted it
badly. Almost as badly as she did. She was just curling her fingers into his
hair when the noise of a man clearing his throat interrupted.

Grace opened her eyes to see Shane standing in the entry of the
building, closing the door behind him.

“Pardon me,” he said, tipping his hat. “I’ll give y’all some
privacy.”

“Fuck off, Shane,” Cole growled against her mouth. He turned
her, putting her back against the wall, and shut the door with his foot. “Now,
where were we?”

“Right here,” she answered, sliding her hands down to his ass
to pull him tight against her.

“Perfect,” he murmured against her jaw, his mouth going to her
neck to tease her.

God, she could get hooked on that. His mouth on her neck,
sucking, scraping, biting. It made her moan and whimper in ways she wished she
could hide. But screw it. It didn’t matter. Physical pleasure was just that. He
made her feel good, and there was no shame in it. She obviously turned him on,
too. Good times all around.

He pushed her T-shirt up, and she did the same for him. She
hadn’t bothered with a bra, so their naked chests pressed together, their body
heat seeming to double with the contact, until her skin felt seared. Burned
straight through to the bones beneath.

She reached for his belt and had his pants unbuttoned and open
within ten seconds flat. “I want your clothes off,” she said.