The Bull Rider Meets His Match (10 page)

“Only seven weeks,” Nancy cooed to the ducks, who seemed more interested in grazing on the fresh green grass than in listening to their mama. Lex's dogs had watched as the pen had been built, showed a moderate amount of interest when the ducks were released then all but yawned and fallen asleep after the ducks settled in. Like Peter, waterfowl were not their thing. Nor were the ducks of interest to Felicity. The cat rubbed against Lex's leg, then headed to the house, tail swaying in the air.

Nancy looked close to tears as she walked toward Peter's truck. She stopped before opening the door and pulled a wallet out of her jacket pocket. “Will thirty dollars a week be enough?”

“For caring for the ducks?” Lex asked in surprise. She shook her head. “I can't take money. It'll be a privilege to keep them for you.”

Nancy's face brightened. “Really?”

“Of course. I may have to get some ducks of my own.”

“You will never regret it. They bring such joy!”

Lex met Peter's eyes. He smiled at her, a very nice smile from a very handsome guy, and she felt...nothing.

Damn.

Just because Grady sparked something inside her every time she was close to him, just because she thought about their kisses a bit more than she should, it didn't mean she had to obsess or worry. She was in control of her life, not Grady and not the community. She would bring this thing with Grady back to where it should be. Mutual animosity would be nice, but animosity only seemed to encourage him.

And her.

She needed to get a handle on the situation, establish a casual-acquaintance relationship with him and then maybe she could relax. No more kissing—that was a given. She was simply too private a person to be a participant in a spectator sport, and if that meant telling Grady that he had won the war, so be it. She'd happily wave the white flag of surrender.

Chapter Ten

On Monday morning Annie came in to the store looking frazzled. The twins, she explained as she hung up her purse and pulled on the smock she wore at the store, had started coming down with colds on Saturday, were cranky as could be on Sunday and now they were officially sick.

“Do you want to take the day off?” Danielle asked with a concerned frown.

Annie tied the waist strings at the back of the smock. “No. Grady's doing fine with them, but I do need to run the cough medicine out to him before noon. The pharmacist said he'd have the prescription filled by ten. I'd be back in less than an hour.”

“Or I could drop it off on my way home,” Lex offered, recognizing a golden opportunity when she saw one. She could talk to Grady in relative privacy instead of at riding lessons or some other public forum. “Unless you want to check on the girls, that is.”

Annie's expression brightened. “You don't mind? Dropping it off? I mean...” She made a face, and Lex knew what she was thinking. If she didn't mind seeing Grady after becoming the talk of the community by kissing in the stands and telling Tiffani the Mouth that they were sleeping together.

“It's on my way home,” Lex repeated matter-of-factly.

“Thanks so much. It actually might be better if you brought it. If the girls are awake when I get there, they may not want me to leave.” Annie smiled a little. “They're never clingy except when they get sick. Then it's cuddle city.”

Half an hour later Lex turned into Annie's driveway. The garage door was open, and next to the small table saw was a weight bench. Grady was on his back, pressing a big barbell.

Lex got out of the truck and strolled over, white pharmacy bag in hand. “You shouldn't do that without a spotter.”

Grady hefted the barbell back into the stand and then sat on the bench, reaching for a towel, which he used to wipe his shoulders and chest. A scar started at his rib cage and dipped south, and Lex noted a few smaller scars scattered here and there. Scars that probably meant he'd barely escaped death. The idea made her stomach tighten. “It won't crush me. I wait for Annie to do the heavy ones.”

“Good to know,” Lex said briskly, shoving thoughts of near death out of her head and tearing her gaze away from the sheen of perspiration on his incredibly muscled torso. She held up the bag. “Cough medicine.”

“Great.” He slung the towel around his neck and got to his feet, crossing to stop in front of her, and as soon as he got close, she felt all the sensations she'd convinced herself she wouldn't feel when she was near him. The feeling that she couldn't get quite enough air in her lungs. The tiny electric prickles of awareness dancing over her skin. She lifted her chin, commanded herself to get a grip.

“Have any hair adventures lately?” she asked mildly.

“Nope, and I'm happy to say that while the pink stuff doesn't wash out, it gets lighter as time goes on.” Grady took the bag from her as she held it out. The paper rustled as he lowered his hand to his side.

“I told Annie I'd deliver that because it's on my way home,” she explained, even though he hadn't asked.

“And you wanted to see me. Straighten out a few things.”

She frowned at him, wondering when he'd become so good at reading thoughts. “It needs to be done,” she said. “We can't keep entertaining our friends and acquaintances.”

“Why not?”

“I don't like it,” she responded evenly.

His mouth tilted up on one side into a sensual curve. For a moment she thought he was going to say,
“I beg to differ—you do like it,”
which was an unfortunate truth, but instead he said, “You know... I was trying to figure out the other day how this all got started with me and you. I think it comes down to you taking an instant dislike to me when I started dating Danielle.”

“No. I took an instant dislike to you when you chose the PBR over her.”

“But you think she's better off now, right?”

She didn't have an answer to that one. One corner of Grady's mouth tipped up as he wiped the towel over his neck. She tore her gaze away and focused on the first thing she could find worthy of comment, as she collected her thoughts and prepared for another volley. “The garage looks a lot better.”

“I'm waiting on the siding. Then a little paint and good as new.” He pointed to the framed-in building a few yards away. “Annie's new garden shed.”

“I had no idea you were into construction.”

“There's a lot you don't know about me.”

She met his eyes dead-on. “And things will stay that way.”

He looked amused. “Is this your way of saying uncle?”

“Yes. Uncle. You win.” She held out her hand. “Let's call a truce.”

He glanced down at her hand, then took it in his calloused fingers and instead of shaking it, held on to it as he studied her cautiously. “This feels like a trap.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “No trap. I'm tired of being watched. Talked about.”

“And that's it.”

“What else could it be?”

His eyebrows lifted. “I'm not touching that one.”

“Because there's nothing to touch,” she said through gritted teeth. What was it about this guy that instantly set her off, despite having every intention of maintaining an even keel?

“Yeah. Right.”

“Where do you find hats big enough to fit your head?”

“This isn't ego talking.”

“I'm done,” she said, pulling her hand away yet still feeling the warmth of his fingers on hers.

She turned toward the bay door but only managed a couple of steps before he said, “I think we should go out.” She turned back, certain she hadn't heard correctly. “Instead of playing this game.” He set his hands on his hips, his weight cocked to one side.

She closed the distance between them in a few short steps, pointing a finger at him. “Maybe you're playing a game. I'm not.”

“Yeah you are, and maybe we need to be honest with one another.”

“Here's some honesty.” She reached out and yanked the damp towel from around his shoulders, trying to startle the calm expression off his face. Why should he feel calm when she didn't? He didn't look massively startled by her unexpected action, but his eyes did narrow a little, so she continued on. “We are not going out. We are not kissing one another. We are going to retreat to our neutral corners and stay there.”

She wadded up the towel and jammed it back at him.

“Whatever. If you need me, I'll be in my corner.”

“Why would I need you?”

“One thing I've discovered in life, Lex, is that you never know who you might need.”

“And that's where you're wrong. I will never need you.” She meant it from the core of her being. Because needing Grady would put her in a very vulnerable position, and Lex didn't do vulnerable.

* * *

W
ELL
,
THAT
WENT
WELL
.

Grady stalked into the house and tossed his towel into the laundry box as he walked into the utility room. He'd taken the plunge, asked her out. He'd been honest. Lex not so much.

He told himself it was because she was threatened. Scared for some reason, but it was still hard to swallow. She was brave in all other aspects of life...why not this one? Why not take a chance on him? It wasn't as if he'd asked for a huge commitment or anything. A date. One lousy date.

The woman drove him insane.

He pulled a T-shirt out of the dryer and slipped it on. He still had a lot to do today with the siding and the shed, so he'd wait until Annie got home to shower. A raspy cough sounded from the living room, and he went back into the kitchen, where he opened the paper bag Lex had delivered, took out the medication and used his pocketknife to slit the cellophane holding the dosage cup attached to the top of the bottle.

“Uncle Grady?” Katie's call was punctuated by another low cough.

“Coming, kiddo.” He walked into the living room, where Katie was curled up on one end of the sofa and Kristen at the other, both covered with handmade afghans. No way were they going to spend downtime in bed, where Annie wanted them to be. They wanted to fall asleep to cartoon shows, and Grady wasn't going to argue with them.

Katie pushed herself upright, her pinkish hair semi-matted on one side of her head. She coughed again and Grady held up the medication and measuring cup. “I got the cure.”

She smiled and let him pour the proper dosage, which he checked not once, not twice, but three times, and then she swallowed it. “Cherry,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose.

“I don't know if they make blue cough syrup, sweetie.”

“You should check,” she said as she settled back into her nest and coughed again.

He looked over at Kristen, who was sleeping soundly, her mouth hanging open. When kids slept, they really slept. He wasn't going to wake her up to take medicine. When she needed it, she'd wake up.

“Do you need anything? Water? Crackers?” he asked.

Katie yawned and shook her head, then coughed weakly as she picked up the remote. “No.”

“Okay. Well, I'm going to work on your mom's shed some more. If you need me...”

“I know.” She pointed at Annie's cell phone, which his sister had sacrificed so that they could call Grady in from outside by merely pressing one button.

She yawned again, and Grady expected her to be sound asleep in a matter of minutes. It was the first time since the cake incident that he'd been absolutely certain of where he'd find the girls when he returned to the house. Tomorrow would probably be a different story, since Annie told him that kids bounced back fast. She'd know, and he was learning.

Funny thing—he really enjoyed pseudoparenthood. Even the pink-haired emergency parts.

That was one good thing he'd gotten out of coming home. And he was enjoying the time with his sister. Two good things. He no longer wondered if he and Danielle were meant to be. Three good things.

And...maybe he'd better stop there while he was ahead. Because if he gave any thought to the Lex matter, he was once again going to start dwelling on the one big negative of his return home. He was falling for a woman who swore she was never going to need him in any way, shape, or form.

* * *

L
EX
WAS
BUSILY
currying the minidonkeys early Thursday morning when a familiar white utility truck pulled into her driveway and Peter got out of it.

He smiled that easy smile of his as he approached. “My grandmother wanted me to visit the ducks.”

Lex laughed as she set down the currycomb and started toward him, the two donkeys and the goat trailing behind her. “They're doing great.” She gestured toward the pen. “Come and see for yourself.”

They walked to the pen, and then Peter took out his phone, giving her a self-conscious smile. “She wants pictures.”

Lex simply smiled back. Peter took a few photos, then pocketed the phone. “They look as happy as ducks can look.” Channing waddled by, making a clackety sound with his bill. He looked so serious as he went about his duck business, and the lady ducks did seem to find him incredibly attractive.

“Your grandma was right. I do enjoy them. I sit on the porch and watch them waddle around and swim. Feed them duck treats and veggie peelings. I'd love to let them out and see them in action on the stock pond.” Which was what she'd do if she got a small flock of her own. Ducks on the pond would be nice. Of course, she was going to get the not-so-exotic kind. Regular ducks were good enough for her.

“These guys will never taste freedom,” Peter said with a half smile. “Gram is too nervous about their safety. She hatched them all, you know. Raised them from the time they were little puffs of fluff. She's always been nuts about poultry and as she's gotten older, she's really gotten...obsessed?” He smiled again. “I mean that in a nice way, of course.” Lex's heart melted a little as he spoke. He really was a good guy.

“It's nice that she's able to move to a place where she can keep them.”

“It was actually a challenge finding a place with enough of a yard to allow her ducks, but not too much to take care of. Another plus is that it's not that far from the clinic, so I can check on her easily. We only have to wait for the seller to finish vacating the premises.” He started back toward his truck, and Lex fell into step. “Are you going to the Founder's Day picnic?” he asked as they walked.

“I hadn't planned on it.” Danielle was busy, and she wasn't one to head to public events alone. Nope. She'd rather hole up in her basement and engrave silver. Or cut out copper cowboy boot Christmas decorations—her latest venture. Anything but be stared at as people speculated about her and Grady.

“I haven't been since visiting my grandparents as a kid, but I have good memories.”

Lex tried to remember seeing Peter there at the celebration and couldn't do it.

“I was shy,” Peter said, correctly guessing the direction of her thoughts. “And I usually stayed close to my grandparents, because they were nervous about me straying too far afield. But I had fun. Loved the fireworks and the games.”

“I should have made more of an effort to get to know you,” Lex said. “You only lived about a mile away.” Which was close by rural standards.

“To tell you the truth,” Peter said with a crooked smile, “you scared me.”

“Really?” Huh. She'd never tried to be scary back then. Maybe it was simply part of her general personality.

“Well, you were cute and confident, and I was neither.”

But he had been adorably awkward, and Lex had always liked him. She had no idea he'd been intimidated by her. Why couldn't Grady be intimidated by her?