Ray: Riding Hard Read online

  “Because we were almost killed?”

  “Partly.” Ray leaned a little closer. “And partly because you’re a pretty woman. And a nice one.”

  “Not really.”

  “Huh. Bet me.” Ray touched her face, liking how it flushed even more. “You’re sweet, and you’re alone. Don’t let cowboys take advantage of you.”

  “I’m not.” A sparkle entered Drew’s eyes. “I’m using you shamelessly to help me with this wreck of a house. And I kissed you.”

  “We can debate that. Seems like it was mostly mutual kissing.”

  She took a breath, as though she wanted to argue, then she sent him a faint smile. “Yeah, it was.”

  “Maybe sometime we can do it again.” Ray kept his voice casual, but his heart thumped wildly in anticipation. Damn, but he wanted to do it again. “You know, when we’re not afraid of a house falling on us.”

  She smiled back, but Ray could tell she wasn’t mentally marking a time in her datebook to kiss him again. Oh well.

  Didn’t mean Ray would simply give up. He hadn’t gone out much since his spectacular breakup with Christina Campbell, and he saw in Drew the same reticence to trust, to care, as he felt in himself. At the same time, he sensed her hunger—the need to be in someone’s arms, to be held and treasured. And hell, need for the mindless pleasure of sex.

  Maybe they could work something out …

  “Come on,” he forced himself to say. “Let’s get out of here before more beams drop on us.”

  Drew nodded. She leaned to pick up her hard hat, which had fallen to the floor during their impromptu kiss. She was close to Ray when she rose, and he noticed she gave his body a once-over all the way up.

  Yeah, there could be something here, he thought, his body on fire just from her looking at it. Ray wouldn’t give up until he knew for sure what.

  Drew walked back to the garage next to Ray, her body flushing then chilling as emotion after emotion rushed through her.

  The kiss had been … amazing. Her lips tingled, her blood burned. She hadn’t kissed a man in she couldn’t remember how long. She hadn’t dated hardly at all since she’d dredged up the courage to kick out Erica’s father, and anything since then had been extremely casual.

  What she’d felt when Ray had enclosed her in his body and kissed her in that slow, sensual way had been anything but casual. A heat she’d forced to stay damped woke up and demanded attention.

  Drew shot another glance at his large body, seriously good-looking face, eyes of deep jade. What woman wouldn’t melt when he touched her?

  Probably a lot of them did. He was a rodeo cowboy, a bull rider, a man who put himself in danger for the fun of it. He must have plenty of women chasing after him.

  Not that she’d noticed any at the hardware store or following him to the B&B to see what he was doing. Ray looked a little lonely—though that might be Drew’s wishful thinking.

  Ray left her side to unload more things from his truck. He’d brought tools and a ladder, things she hadn’t purchased yesterday. He carried these upstairs to start patching the holes in the drywall and announced she should paint the entire interior. He could help.

  He’d be coming back, Drew thought with warmth as he spoke matter-of-factly. She really wished she didn’t feel so glad.

  Ray came over every day for the next week. They fell into a rhythm, Drew fixing an extra portion of breakfast and double the coffee. Ray would show up around nine and knock politely at the door downstairs, which Erica would run and open for him. By the middle of the week, Erica simply dashed down the stairs whenever she saw Ray’s truck pull in.

  Ray would insist Drew didn’t need to feed him, then he’d say, “Well, maybe a little bit,” and enjoy eggs and bacon, potatoes and toast. Pancakes one day.

  He’d thank her and help clean up the dishes. Then he’d move to whatever they were working on and start in.

  Drew worked right alongside him, smearing on drywall joint compound, taping and priming each room after they dragged out the furniture, and then helping rip up the threadbare carpet to reveal beautiful, old hardwood beneath.

  “I could make these rooms a suite,” Drew said, gazing at the glow of the wood, which Ray said was golden oak. “For honeymoon couples maybe, or people who want to splurge on a romantic weekend.”

  “Now you’re thinking like a business owner.” Ray nodded at her. “It’s a good idea. Decorate it up, make it a special hideaway. My sister Grace is good at the frilly stuff. She’d be happy to help.” He glanced at Drew as he rubbed his sweaty face on the short sleeve of his T-shirt. “She wouldn’t take over or anything,” he added quickly. “Just give you advice.”

  “Which I’d take. I have no idea what I’m doing.” Drew left the floor to plunk herself on the drop cloth-draped sofa. “You call me business owner, but this is all new territory to me.”

  Ray rose and went to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. “What did you do in Chicago?”

  Drew hesitated, studying the patch of flooring they’d uncovered. A plastic bottle studded with beads of condensation moved into her view, and she took it gratefully.

  “I was a librarian.” The words came out a bit defensively.

  “No shit?” Ray looked around for a place to sit, but at the moment there was nowhere except the sofa Drew already occupied—they’d moved the rest of the furniture into the bedrooms. She scooted over a little, indicating she didn’t mind him next to her.

  Which she didn’t. The cushions sagged under Ray’s warm strength, making Drew want to slide into him.

  “Must be a huge library in Chicago,” Ray said, sounding admiring.

  “I didn’t work at the big one downtown. I was in a smaller branch. But it wasn’t bad—I had benefits, and Erica could come after school and ride home with me. It’s far harder than you’d think to find a decent job as a librarian, even after years of library school …” Drew groaned as the weight of her decisions struck her. “A good job I quit to come here.”

  Ray’s large hand rested on her back, soothing. “Had to be a tough choice to make.”

  “It was. And this place is such a mess—I didn’t realize how much of a mess. I thought if I could run it or sell it after I opened it— the trust will give me a nice chunk of change if I fix it up and make a go of it. But, it’s impossible. Why couldn’t my grandfather give me the money now so I could use it to fix up the house? If he wanted the B&B running again so much?”

  Ray sat in silence, and she didn’t really expect him to have an answer. His large hand was comforting though.

  The occasional clank sounded from the garage below—Erica was cleaning junk from cabinets there, Cinders helping.

  Ray cleared his throat. “I asked around about Old Man Paresky—I mean, your grandfather. Seems he was known for being quirky. He loved this place, but after your grandmother left him, he let it go to ruin. I’d guess he wanted to find out how dedicated you’d be, instead of just giving you the money.”

  “Because I might find a way to keep the cash without using it to fix up the B&B. I get that.” Drew sighed. “Anyone looking at that house would know it was the sensible thing to do.”

  Ray moved his hand away, and she was suddenly cold. “A nice chunk of change is worth working hard for.”

  “Compared to the pittance I made, even in a decent library job … Yeah, I wasn’t about to throw that away. I could have signed a paper to give up the trust, let a developer take over, and moved on, but I thought …” Drew shook her head. “I thought I could do this.”

  “You still can. You’re already getting into the spirit. You had a good idea about making this place a special suite, remember?”

  “But I don’t know anything about running a business.” Drew’s despair inched back into her. “I’ve always worked for someone else.”

  “Well, I do. I’ve more or less been running a business since I was fourteen.”

  “Have you?” Drew glanced at him with interest, a big, handsome man who never s
eemed to hurry, or worry.

  “Sure. Cowboys don’t just sit around and drink beer, and maybe occasionally get on a horse. A ranch is definitely a business. Kyle and I took over when my dad passed about fifteen years ago. My mom ran it with us for a while, but her heart wasn’t in it. She missed my dad too much. She moved to Austin some time ago with Miles—her boyfriend—and left the whole place to me and Kyle. Miles is a good guy, but he’s a city man. Ranching’s not his thing.”

  Drew’s curiosity stirred as she listened, moroseness fading. “What do real cowboys do? I’ve always wondered.”

  Ray took a long gulp of water, droplets lingering on his lips. “Kyle and I train horses, we run a small herd of cattle, and we employ a bunch of people to help with all the animals. The prize money Kyle and I make riding in the rodeos we mostly put into the ranch. Training takes a lot of time, and so does the office work. Fortunately, we have Margaret to help out. She’s scary, but damn good at her job.” He gave her a faint grin. “So, what do real librarians do?”

  “More than sit shyly in a corner reading books,” Drew answered. “I’m part tour guide, part teacher, part wrangler, part counsellor, part cataloger, part computer geek, part cop. Libraries have become information centers, community centers, makeshift child-care centers, makeshift homeless shelters. Occasionally, we still direct people to the right books. They haven’t quite gotten rid of actual books, no matter how far we are into the digital age. Thank heaven. There’s something timeless about a book.”

  “You like to read?”

  “I do, actually. I read everything I can.” She had to laugh. “I’ve just gone on about the eternal joy of print, but I love my e-books too. I had to give a lot of my paperbacks away or put them in storage to come out here, so now I read on my phone.”

  “Lots of books at our ranch,” Ray said. “My mom’s a big reader, and so is Grace. You could always do a library in your B&B.”

  Drew felt a surge of renewed eagerness. “I could. I’m imagining people coming out here to get away from it all, to sit on the porch and look at the beautiful scenery, read books, and sip tea.”

  “Or go hiking, horseback riding, spelunking, boating … lots to do in the Hill Country.”

  Drew deflated. “I have no idea how to hook people up with what they want to do. Why do I think anyone will come way out here, anyway? Especially when they know what this place looks like?”

  She heard her voice take on a note of despair once more. Ray fell silent, but when she turned to him, she saw sympathy in his eyes, not discouragement.

  The sight made her sit still. Not since before her marriage thirteen years ago had a man gazed at her in quiet contemplation, neither condemning nor demanding. Philip had been either all over her in passion or deriding her for her family, her cooking, her career choice, and any decision she made about Erica.

  Ray simply looked at her in understanding. True, he was a neutral party, a kind person who’d helped her out hauling supplies and who knew about drywalling.

  A really good-looking nice guy who knew about drywalling. And didn’t stare at her like she’d lost her mind, which was what she’d been getting from her friends and coworkers before she packed up her car and headed south.

  The day Ray had rescued the cat, when he’d come out of the bathroom, his hair spiked with his impromptu sponge bath, his skin damp, he’d been delectable. The temptation to kiss him had been high, as it had been in the house when the ceiling had come down and he’d saved her from peril.

  As it was now, while he looked at her with water droplets on his lips and understanding in his eyes.

  Drew leaned toward him, his body heat drawing her in. Ray remained motionless, watching her come.

  “Mom!” Erica’s breathless voice cut through the quiet, followed by her running footsteps. She burst in, waving something paperlike. Cinders rushed in after her, jumped to the kitchen counter, and scattered a pile of bolts with a metallic clatter.

  “Look what I found.” Erica thrust a handful of photographs at Drew, glossy black and whites from long ago. “It’s our house. It was beautiful!”

  Chapter Five

  Ray squeezed his hands around the water bottle, fighting disappointment. Had Drew really started to flow into him, like she wanted to get closer? Or was it just his ego talking?

  It didn’t matter, because she’d wrenched herself away and now perched on the edge of the sofa, gazing at what Erica had found. Her cheeks were rose-colored, her dark eyes sparkling. A pretty woman, and a sweet one. A lady worth knowing.

  A lady with a lot on her mind and on her plate. Ray needed to give her some space, as hard as that was to acknowledge.

  “Wow,” Drew said. “Look at this place.”

  She moved the photos so Ray could see them. The pictures were of the B&B about fifty or so years ago, painted and spruced up, the windows whole, the black shingles solid, the brick chimney Ray had spent time inside sturdy. The porch sported lacy curlicues around the pillars.

  A 1960s sedan rested in the drive—a long, low, wide car that, at the time, had meant prosperity. Other shots showed the house from the back, along with a garden in full bloom.

  “It was beautiful,” Drew said admiringly. “I think those are my grandparents.”

  She pointed to a photo of a couple standing on the front porch, hands on the railing, looking out. They were young, the man black-haired, the woman with her long hair in a ponytail. They stood apart, with some space between them, but they looked contented enough as they gazed at the photographer.

  “Must have been right before they split up,” Drew said. “My grandmother took my dad to Chicago and never came back to Riverbend.”

  She sounded sad. It was sad when families broke apart, Ray well knew. His dad was gone, his mom in Austin with Miles. Ray and Kyle and their sisters were drifting off now, each in pursuit of their own lives.

  “Shows you what you can do with the house, though,” Ray offered, shoving aside melancholy thoughts.

  “Yes.” Drew touched the photo wistfully. “With about a million dollars.”

  She had a point. Gave Ray an idea, but he’d have to follow up before he blurted it out. Didn’t want Drew getting her hopes up for nothing.

  Sunlight touched them through the windows, the afternoon waning. Ray glanced at his watch and grimaced.

  “I have to go,” he said with great reluctance. “My brother, the dumbas—uh, dumb butt—bet Dr. Anna she couldn’t ride the mechanical bull at a cowboy bar tonight. I have to drive him—he’s still not cleared to drive himself.” Ray took in Erica’s sudden interest and Drew’s blue eyes, and inspiration seized him. “Come with us.” He ignored how fast his heart raced as he said the words. “Dr. Anna wouldn’t mind, I don’t think. Kyle’s not a bad guy when he’s not complaining, and it will be fun to see Anna win his stupid challenge.”

  Drew’s smile blossomed. Damn, she was beautiful when she smiled. Made Ray want reasons for her do it some more.

  Drew took a breath, but whether to accept or turn him down, Ray was not to know. Her cell phone rang at the same instant.

  The phone lay across the room on the counter that separated living room from kitchen. Erica leapt to it, snatching it up.

  “It’s Uncle Jules!” she shouted as she answered it. “Hi, Uncle Jules. This is Erica.”

  Ray watched Drew’s expression change from excited interest to alarm to dismay in the space of a moment. Next came anger, and finally, resignation.

  “Your brother?” he asked quietly.

  “My dad’s brother,” Erica announced, holding the phone away. “He wants to talk to you, Mom.”

  “I have to take this,” Drew said, rising. Her face had gone wan, anything welcoming in her eyes vanishing, her body taking on a rigidity Ray hadn’t seen before. “Sorry, we won’t be able to go tonight.”

  Ray got to his feet with her, his disappointment acute. Drew remained fixed in place, clearly not about to take the phone while Ray was there.

  He sw
allowed and gave Drew a stiff nod. “See you, then. Stay out of trouble, kid,” he said to Erica, who grinned.

  Erica held out the phone to her mom, the call from her uncle not concerning her like it did Drew. Why not?

  Ray would have to figure it out another time. Drew waited, her face shuttered, not moving toward Erica or indicating she’d see Ray out.

  He caught up his hat, which he’d left hanging on a chair, gave Drew and Erica another nod, and made his exit. Ray heard no voices behind him as he clumped down the stairs—Drew was waiting until Ray moved well out of earshot before she went for the phone.

  Outside, he looked back. Erica, at the window, gave him a hard and zealous wave. Ray lifted his hand in response, which elicited a big smile.

  He packed up his tools that he’d left lying on the back of his truck, shut the tailgate, and started up. He pulled out from the B&B as the sun set, but his mind remained on Drew and the smile that lit her face, his idea for helping her, and speculation on why the phone call had unsettled her.

  Ray drove around a long time, lost in thought, before he remembered to head home and pick up Kyle for the night’s event.

  “Who was that?” Jules Bolan demanded.

  Drew bit back her angry response as she took the phone and kept her voice calm. Erica liked Jules, her one link to her father, and Drew wasn’t about to destroy that relationship.

  “No one,” she said quickly to Jules. “A guy helping us fix up the place.”

  “You hired him?” Jules’ deep voice was much like Philip’s, a fact that always made Drew shiver. “You should have asked me—I could have a team down there any time you want.”

  “No.” The word came out sharply, and again, Drew modulated her voice. “No. It’s all right. There’s plenty of people here who can do the work.”

  She had no idea whether there were or not, but she did not want Jules coming to Riverbend to take over. The one thing she’d very much wanted to leave behind in Chicago was Jules.