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Authors: Christine

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He's Got Her Goat (6 page)

BOOK: He's Got Her Goat
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“So am I.” Almost calmed down, she took a sip of her soda. “Mostly because I don’t have anyone to milk the goats tomorrow morning. Now I’ll probably have to close down my booth for the rest of the season.”

He felt for her. It was hard to deal with unexpected reversals but part of any business. “Do you need the sales that badly?”

“Not really. My website is generating more traffic than I can keep up with.” She dropped the sandwich back on the table and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I’m doing the farmers market for me. Day after day alone at the house, sending out orders, mixing new formulas is lonely. I like interacting with my customers and rubbing elbows with the other vendors. Without it, the police chief might be right, I may become a crazy goat lady after all.” She peered at him with a look that reminded him of his sister when she was begging for a compliment.

He laughed. “No arguments here.”

She broke into a grin and sat back. “So, what do you do for a living?”

Sterling paused. “I’m currently looking for opportunities.” That was true in a way. If he had to write a job description of his responsibilities, researching opportunities was as close as anything he could think of.

She pinched the tomato, lettuce and sauce that had fallen from her sandwich with her bare fingers and stuck it in her mouth. “Any way I could hire you?”

“Why would you want to?” After her little rant about lying, he was losing his nerve. Did this girl let just anyone into her life?

“I’m desperate. It’s you or close the booth.” She began folding up the remaining half of her sandwich in the paper wrap. “Was Austin lying about you?”

“No!” Sterling sat forward. “In fact he made me promise to be nice to you.”

“The nicest thing you could do right now is help me out. It would only be for the next two days. Then you never have to see me again.” She bit her lip and held her breath, waiting for his response.

This was not in his plan. He was going to get this initial meet done, report in, then spend the weekend doing what he’d been looking forward to for weeks. Cursing his boss in his mind, he relented. “Okay, but it’s only for this weekend.”

“It’s a deal.” She lifted her hand across the table to shake but still had mayo on her fingers.

He hesitated for only a moment before taking her hand, amazed at the strength and surety of her grip. He hoped she could keep it up through the mess that was sure to come.

 

Chapter Six

“O
KAY.” PAIGE SAT TALLER
in her chair. “If you’re going to work for me, we’ve got to get a couple of things straight. First, I’ll pay you in cash, but not until the end of the weekend.”

“Huh.” So she wasn’t a total fool. That way he’d have to stay the whole time. Clever girl, he thought to himself. “Go on.”

“The booth opens at seven-thirty sharp and goes until nine on Saturday then half a day Sunday. I’ll need you there the whole time. Now we only have to decide on your wage.” She pursed her lips then clicked her tongue in thought.

“$250 a day?” he suggested. He got twice that per hour for consulting.

“That’s a little steep, but if it’s what you want, fine. I’ll see you in the morning then.” Paige shoved the leftover sandwich in her purse and rose to her feet. She took a step to leave then stopped and cocked her head. “Can I give you a ride to your car? General parking is quite a walk, and it’s getting nippy.”

Adjusting the wrapping on his hoagie and making himself comfortable, Sterling shook his head. “I’m taking the bus.”

“No, you’re not,” Paige said.

Man, she was bossy. “Yes I am,” Sterling said with conviction.

She sat down and stared at him. The gold flecks in her brown eyes seemed to burn. “The busses stopped running an hour ago.”

“There’s more than one way to skin a cat.” His father used to always say that. Odd, he’d successfully not thought about home for years now. No wonder when the man’s favorite phrase reeked of animal cruelty. Rewording his response, he said, “Then I’ll take a cab.”

“Where are you headed?”

He couldn’t tell if she was asking to check up on him or to offer him a ride. “Into the city.” To discourage her he added, “It’s a good hour drive.” It was really little more than half an hour.

She slapped the table with her open palm. “Are you crazy? That would cost you eighty dollars at least. You’re out of work.”

All he wanted to do was change out of his wet shirt, sleep in his own bed and get this girl off his back. “It’s alright. I can handle it.”

She squinted and stared at him for a solid minute. He couldn’t meet her gaze and wasn’t sure why. It felt like guilt, but what did he have to feel guilty about? He was offering the whole weekend to her for a fraction of what he’d normally charge.

Unexpectedly, she put her hand on his. Her skin was like velvet. He hadn’t noticed before. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “I’ve still got to milk the goats. If you’ll help me, I can be done in half the time. Then I’ll drive you to the city tonight. Deal?”

Waiting for a cab in the sticks would take half an hour at least, so it wouldn’t be that much longer to go with her. Besides, his boss would be happier if he could get a look at the goat girl’s place. “Sounds like a plan.” He chucked the remainder of his dinner in the nearest trash can, and they headed for the door.

As they walked to her car, Sterling realized how right she had been. The temperature had plummeted, and the wet front of his shirt felt like someone had pressed a blue icepack to his chest. Paige was wearing a red sweater and seemed unaffected by the cold.

Upon reaching the hatchback, Sterling hopped into the passenger seat. While she started the ignition, he played with the climate controls on the panel, hoping to blast the car with heat.

“Sorry,” she said as she slid the car into gear and pulled onto the empty road. “My heater’s broken.”

Folding his arms tight across his chest, he sat back. “It is what it is.”

They hadn’t driven far before she flipped her head his direction once and then again. “Are you shivering?” Her face was turned toward him with her eyes still on the road.

He felt he owed her an explanation. “It’s silly. I got my shirt wet.”

“Oh.” She bobbed her chin. “While changing the bucket under the pump. I’ve got half a mind to chuck the whole contraption tomorrow.”

“No!” Sterling said. “How do you think I sold so much? I had women try out the type of soap that would be best for their situation. Brilliant product.”

“Thank you.” She returned her focus to the road.

He could only see her profile, and it was dim in the car, but even with those impeded conditions, he could tell her smile was beautiful.

She took a left. “Okay, I’ll keep the pump. Besides, it would break Joe’s heart if I threw it away.”

He supposed she was talking about the guy in black. “So is he a boyfriend?”

“He wishes he was.” That’s all she said.

Sterling hoped she’d elaborate. Was there something the guy did that bugged her, or was she just not interested in men in general. He had to ask. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Oh nothing.” Her tone was light. “I have other things on my plate right now.”

“I hear you.” Sterling had said those identical words to other women many times lately, but coming from her, they seemed cold. He shivered again.

“We’ve got to get you out of that shirt.” She rotated the wheel and pulled into a rustic turn of the century stone farmhouse facing a red barn with white trim. It reminded him of the scene on a tacky jigsaw puzzle. She cut the engine and opened her door. “You look to be about Uncle Bill’s size. I think it’d be okay if you borrowed some of his clothes.”

Funny, he had assumed she lived alone.

 

Chapter Seven

T
HE PORCH LIGHT ILLUMINATED
a little circle around the generous oak door, and Paige stood with her hand on the knob. The deputy’s reaction to the mess made her nervous. She turned to look at Sterling, but her focus fell to his lips. They were almost blue. Oh, well. Why delay the inevitable?

Pushing the door wide, she gestured to the cluttered rooms. “Welcome home, such as it is.”

He stepped in the entry. She closed the door behind him and headed into the living area. Halfway there she realized he wasn’t following her. She turned to find Sterling simply standing in the entryway as if mesmerized. Was he worried he might catch some dreaded disease by venturing in? “I assure you it’s completely biohazard free.”

At last he moved, if only to look at her. “No, it’s great.” His eyes shifted further up the hall. “The living room is painted the same color as the house I grew up in.” With careful steps and his hands clasped behind his back, he walked forward with the reverence of a man walking through a museum.

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that reaction. “Where did you grow up?”

“Dallas,” he said absently.

She hadn’t detected an accent. “Texas?”

“No, Dallas, Oregon.”

“Never heard of it,” Paige tried to straighten one of the piles of invoices on the counter but seemed to only bend the pages.

“Most people haven’t.” He shrugged. “It’s a small town a little more than an hour south of the city.” He put his hands in his pockets.

“So you’re from the
other
Dallas.”

“That’s about the size of it,” he said.

Paige slid off her sweater and was about to hang it on the wooden peg inside the closet but couldn’t bring herself to do it. After what happened that afternoon, it would be quite a while before she went into that closet again. She laid her sweater across the back of a chair instead, grateful Sterling was in the room with her. “How nice to be so close to family. I bet you see them often.” She led him toward the back hall.

His pace slowed. “Nope. My mother died ten years ago, and I haven’t been home since.”

From his scowl, she could tell the subject was still tender. “I’m so sorry.” She understood about grief and loneliness.

He interrupted her thoughts. “About that shirt.”

She hurried to the bedrooms. “It’s over here.”

In her uncle’s room she opened the closet to reveal about a dozen button up shirts, each some shade of blue, two light jackets and one white dress shirt with frayed sleeves. It was his spare. Two items were missing. Her uncle’s best shirt and black suit that he was buried in. She could imagine what Uncle Bill would be saying now if he could see her.
Just like you to be taking in a stray… but a good one.

While she selected a denim work shirt and corduroy jacket from the closet, she could hear Sterling shifting from one foot to another behind her. What was she doing alone in a room with a strange man who was probably taking off his shirt that very second? She could imagine his muscled chest, but not what was beneath it. What kind of a man didn’t even interact with his family when they lived so close? This was so wrong. How could she trust him? She’d trusted Blanche and look where it got her. Memories of the fear she had felt that afternoon bubbled to the surface, making her mouth feel dry. She pivoted toward Sterling and caught her breath.

He hadn’t even started undoing his buttons.

“I thought you were going to change your shirt,” she said.

He tipped his hat. “I will, once I have some privacy, ma’am. I don’t imagine your uncle would take kindly to me not being a gentleman in his bedroom, if you know what I’m saying.”

BOOK: He's Got Her Goat
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