Rugged Hearts (8 page)

He tipped his head as he pulled out a few bills from his wallet and the Stetson he wore made it impossible to see his expression. Mesmerized by the breadth of his shoulders in that coat, she opened her mouth to ask if he remembered her, but in the next instant he was exiting the store, his coat fanning out around his legs. It dawned on her he hadn’t spoken a word to her. Not even so much as a how do you do!

“Good luck, darlin’, if you think can melt
that
heart.” Denise eyed Aimee with an arched brow.

“What a strange guy. What’s his story?” Her attention was focused on watching him pause to drop off his bag in the truck, before heading to the meat market next door. His beautiful golden retriever sat dutifully in the cab, content to watch the hustle and bustle around her. Maybe it’d been longer than she thought since she’d met a man who turned her insides to Jell-O.

“Wyatt’s kind of a loner. Has been since Jed, his dad, died. Keeps to himself, pretty much. Denise stuffed the last of Aimee’s groceries in her lime-green Save The Earth bag and handed it to her. “I say you count yourself lucky he acknowledged you at all.” She cackled. “In fact, darlin’, that might be the closest thing to flirting I’ve ever seen that man do.”

Aimee gave the woman a dubious glance and waved as she left, but deep inside the memory of his stoic gaze, left her fanning herself with her mitten.

Chapter Four

Wyatt’s gaze darted to the young woman standing next to his truck. She raised her arm as he approached. “Hi, remember me? I stopped by your place the other night for directions?”

Like he could forget that hair or the shape of those legs encased in faded denim. Oh yeah, he remembered her, fantasized about her, imagined exploring her from the tip of her nose to the tips of her toes, which he just bet were painted pink to match her coat. He nodded and dropped down the tailgate of his truck, placing the bundles of meat in his arms into a cooler. “Are you lost again?” he asked, not wanting her to see the heat in his eyes from his previous thoughts.

He felt her presence at his side and glanced over, meeting her curious expression. “That’s a joke. Thanks for the apple. You didn’t have to do that.”

She shrugged. “Denise says I’m lucky you acknowledge me at all. Quite the reputation with the ladies you must have around here, Slick.”

“My name isn’t Slick and Denise should mind her business.” He shifted the groceries in his crates so they wouldn’t tip over on the way back home. Where he needed to head soon before….

“I was wondering if you’d care to join me for a cup of coffee?”

Before
that
happened. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Do I scare you, cowboy?”

He let out a quiet laugh. “You certainly have quite the mouth on you.”

“That’s not a joke, is it?” she asked.

He slammed the gate of the truck bed. “Look, it’s been a pleasure. Thanks for the apple thing.” He started to leave.

“Oh my gawd. I just figured it out. You don’t like women. Of course, it all makes sense now.”

Wyatt walked to the back of the truck where she stood and stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

She blinked at him, her eyes bright with wonder. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. You hardly come to town, you prefer keeping to yourself. It must be difficult.”

He clamped his hand on the tailgate and pushed his face to hers. Of all the damn foolishness. “What must be difficult?” Wyatt took a deep breath and waited patiently, his gaze locked to hers.

“’Course it’s just as hard for single women. Don’t get me wrong. I do understand. My dad calls this place the land that time forgot. But for a guy with alternative preferences it must be—”

His brows shot up. “What?” he spat out in utter surprise.
Does she really think
…?

She leaned forward, studying him with those beautiful eyes. “It’s okay. I have no problem with it. You know, I think we could be really good friends, just the same.”

“Friends?”

She shrugged. “Sure, why not? I accept your choices.”

“Oh well.” He chuckled with an odd sense of wonder at her gutsiness. “That’s mighty big of you.”

Her mouth turned down. “Look I’m just trying to be nice. Everybody gets lonely now and again.”

“I don’t.” At least if he did, he hadn’t thought about it in a long while. Which wasn’t the point. Good Lord, did people really think he was a
Brokeback Mountain
man?”

She tipped her head and gave him a sweet look of pity.

“Oh for gawd’s sake, this is ridiculous.” He wasn’t sure exactly what it was he intended to prove by his knee-jerk reaction, but the next thing he knew, he’d grabbed her fluffy, pink coat by the shoulders and captured her mouth in a kiss. His immediate thought was to end all question about his lifestyle choices, the second, a realization that while it was a horrid idea, parts much lower found it quite exhilarating.

Wyatt dropped his hands to his sides, surprised as she seemed to be at the fire smoldering between them. She grabbed the truck and stared at him in shock. He backed up and then rounded the end of the vehicle to place a barrier between them. He swallowed hard and rubbed his hand over his still-tingling lips. “You know, lady, you have plenty of nerve implying that you know one blessed thing about me and second….” His gaze fell to the sweet mouth he’d just kissed. “For the record, I happen to like women just fine.” He adjusted the brim of his hat. “And I’ve had no complaints, by the way.”

She blinked a couple of times and cleared her throat. “My apologies. I wasn’t questioning your…just who you use it with.” Her statement faded into a soft, shaky whisper.

His brow rose. It was insane of him to be pleased at her chagrined look, worse that it seemed he’d rendered her speechless. “Believe me, it takes a great deal more to offend me than a stranger questioning my sexual preferences.”

She swung her gaze to his. It felt like a sucker punch to his solar plexus. “Just the same, we’re not exactly total strangers, are we?” She tossed him a smile. “Did you get the stains out of your shirt?”

Wyatt studied her a moment before answering. She was new in town, new in comparison to three-quarters of the population, at any rate. Young, single, pretty—hell, she was a knockout and didn’t his recent fantasies confirm that? Maybe her aggressive city-girl attitude was creating issues in the dating department. “Maybe it’s
you
that’s having problems finding a social life around here.”

Her mouth dropped open. “It just so happens my job keeps me pretty darn busy. I don’t have much time to socialize.”

Something about the way she faltered pleased him. “I guess we have more in common then.”

“So you don’t date much either?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “No, to be honest, but maybe I haven’t found anyone that interesting…yet.”

He saw the wheels turning as she processed his remark.

She blew out a soft breath. “Okay, so, about coffee?” she asked, brushing the hair from her eyes.

He glanced around, pretending to weigh his options, but the truth was that the minimal taste he’d had of her whetted his appetite for more. She was going to have to understand the parameters, because the last thing he wanted—needed—was a relationship. She apparently grew impatient for an answer.

“Good heavens, it’s coffee, not a pre-nup.” She turned on her heel and tossed her hand in the air. “I was just trying to be neighborly.”

God help him, his eyes zeroed in on her heart-shaped butt in those denim jeans. Neighborly was tempting. Neighborly was a start. Sensing things were going to get messy, and against his better judgment, he called out to her. “I’ll meet you over at Betty’s.”

She spun around to face him, wearing that ridiculous cotton-candy-colored excuse for a coat. Her face lit up like a neon sign, and he briefly debated why it should make a part of him happy—granted a part of him long overdue in the socialization department. Wyatt shook his head as he climbed into the truck. Sadie greeted him, wagging her tail. “Stop me now, Sadie. That woman is trouble and I’m heading right toward it.” The trusted canine looked up at him and he swore she smiled back.

There was a bigger crowd in the café than Wyatt expected for four thirty on a Tuesday afternoon. Every eye in the place had been on them since they’d sat down. To make matters worse, she’d chosen the booth, smack-dab in the front window.

Wyatt gave Betty a nod and tried to ignore the side look of approval she gave to…hell, he didn’t even know her name yet. “You know, you seem to know more about me, than I do you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess I haven’t really properly introduced myself.” She glanced at Betty before she stuck out her hand to him. “Aimee Worth, from Kansas City, Missouri, originally.”

Betty stood there, coffeepot in hand, a gleeful observer to the awkward introductions.

“Betty, a little more coffee over here,” a patron called.

“Just a minute, Charlie. Be right with you.” She looked at Wyatt with an expectant gaze, and waited for him to respond in kind. Betty was a stickler for manners. Had been for as long as he could remember.

Holding back a sigh, he reached out and clasped her hand, purposely catching Betty’s eye. “Wyatt Kinnison.” The flesh against his was soft. Warm. Small. He might have lingered a second longer had Betty not been watching them like a mother hawk.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Betty whispered, leaning down to turn his coffee cup over. She offered him a quick wink and a smile. Wyatt released his hold.

After filling both ironstone mugs, Betty left them to wait on other customers.

“So did you grow up here?” Aimee asked, curling her fingers around the cup.

He started to answer.

“You two kids want anything to eat?” Betty was back. Her gaze darted from one to the other. “We’ve got a tasty hot beef sandwich Jerr’s cooked up for the special tonight.”

Wyatt glanced at Aimee. “I can’t stay, sorry. I’ve got…an appointment.” It wasn’t a falsehood. He did have a class, though not for another three hours or better.

“Yeah, me, too,” she quickly interjected. “Just coffee. Thanks, Betty.”

“Sure thing, darlin’.”

As she turned away, Wyatt caught her raised eyebrow at Aimee. Small towns. Jed used to say they were both a blessing and a curse. He had that right.

“I’ve been at the ranch since I was about twelve.” He answered Aimee’s question despite his discomfiture with the crowded room.

“I heard you don’t get into town much.” She sent him a shy smile and raised the cup to her lips. “Where’d you live the first twelve years?”

Wyatt toyed with the handle of his coffee mug, wondering where she’d heard talk about him. “A lot of places. We moved around a number of times before we came here.”

“Yeah?” She took a sip. A long stretch of silence followed.

His hat and coat hung on an iron hook set up between the booths. He now wished he’d left it on. It would have made leaving so much easier. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, curious to know what other gossip she might have heard. “So why don’t you tell me what you’ve heard about me, first, and we’ll go from there.” He crossed his arms and leaned forward on the table, pinning her with a steady gaze. God almighty, she had beautiful eyes. He should probably feel more guilty thinking about a grade-school teacher like this, but he didn’t. He was curious though, to know if she felt the same sizzle. That kiss alone was inspiration enough for his overactive imagination.

She looked out the window to avoid his question, he guessed, but then she faced him squarely. For having only met her twice, he found her expressions so easy to read. Like now, when she was nervous, a flash of uncertainty grazed her eyes.

“I heard it’s been hard on you since your dad died. I’m sorry for your loss. There aren’t too many places in this town you can go and not hear a story about him. He was well-loved by this community.”

Wyatt sat back and tried to relax. He picked up the mug and held it, giving his hands something to do. “Thank you. He was a good man. I do miss him…. A lot of folks around here do, I guess.”

“It certainly seems as though he enjoyed being involved.”

The slow, familiar buzz of guilt started in the middle of his gut. It happened every time someone tried to compare him to Jed. “Yeah, that’s very true.”

“I only mention it because I’m involved this year with organizing the toy-and-food drive. I understand he was instrumental in starting that.”

“Giving back was always important to him. Never a better time than at Christmas.” Wyatt caught Betty’s eye and lifted his cup for a refill.

“It sounds like you don’t share that philosophy.”

Ah yes, there it was. He scratched the back of his neck and searched for a polite way to tell her to mind her own business. He shrugged. “I have different ideas about it, is all.” She stared at him as though waiting to hear him list them one by one. “And I prefer to leave it at that.”

An awkward silence slid by as Betty refilled both their cups.

Aimee cleared her throat. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t try talking you into helping with the drive.”

“Nope.” He took a long swallow of coffee and hoped one of them would change the topic—the sooner, the better.

“Even if I said pretty please?”

He should have listened to his gut and declined her invitation from the start. Wyatt placed his cup on the table. “Did you ask me to coffee to get me involved in your fundraising event?” The expression she wore was a mix of pity and curiosity. Clearly, he’d taken her by surprise. “Sorry, but if that’s the case. I’m not your guy.”

“I-I….” Her cheeks shaded pink, and she stared at the cup in her hands. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Wyatt looked around, aware others had been listening to the conversation. “Look, it’s complicated.” His disdain for the holiday was tiresome to have to explain. Most folks in town had given up counting on his involvement and no longer questioned his reasons. Aimee, being new, didn’t realize experiences in his life had shaped his choices. “Listen. I respect those who volunteer and the events are well worth it, I agree. But all the goodwill-toward-men stuff is your choice, your belief, not mine.” The more he thought about trying to explain, the worse the whole idea sounded in his head. “Look, Aimee, it’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t get into the holidays like some. Maybe…maybe, I just don’t like Christmas.” He tossed a nondescript smile at her before swallowing the last of his coffee.