Authors: Jennifer Ryan
“We aren’t who we used to be. We’ve changed.” Owen spoke the words, but deep down he wasn’t so sure that dark part of himself didn’t still exist, just waiting to come out and screw everything up in his life like he’d done so many times.
“We have. Remember when we sat at Rain’s kitchen table when I came back and you said Rain had let you be a part of a real family. It doesn’t have to be the way we grew up with the old man swapping one woman for the next, using them up and tossing them out.”
“I’m nothing like the old man. I don’t use women for nothing but sex and treat them like shit.”
“Never said you did. I’m just saying you can have what I have if you want it.”
“I just met this woman. I’m not planning a wedding.”
“I’m just saying change your perspective. Go into a relationship looking for forever, instead of just tonight, and you might find what you’re really looking for. Don’t be stubborn like me and waste years because you think you don’t deserve it.”
Owen didn’t say anything. What could he say? He and Brody shared a past that they’d both had to work damn hard to overcome. At some point, they’d each decided to stop walking the road to destruction and take a new path toward something better. Law school and opening his own practice gave Owen a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, but he still felt like he was missing something in his life. He’d found a piece of it being a part of Rain and the girl’s lives. With Brody back, he still felt a part of their family, but he wanted his own. He loved spending time with Dawn and Autumn, but he envied his brother every time the girls called Brody “Dad.”
“It’s late. I’m out of here. Go put your girl to bed.” Brody cocked his head toward the kitchen window. Claire still sat on the counter, her head down between her shoulders, eyes drooping.
Tonight—well, early morning now—he’d put her to bed and watch over her. Some things were inevitable. He wished she hadn’t suffered that terrible scare, or her injuries, but Dale’s reckless move brought him here tonight. Claire made him want to stay.
T
HE FRONT DOOR
shut and the locks clicked into place. Claire tracked Owen’s movements through the small house by his heavy footfalls on the wood floors. He kicked the box next to the sofa on his way to the dining room. She’d done the same thing a hundred times, always with a silent promise she’d get around to moving it. Owen took care of it for her. The box landed on another with a scrape of cardboard. It made her smile. Such a small thing, but it meant a lot to her.
Funny, she’d lived alone for a while now and thought she’d gotten used to it. Not so much. Having him moving around her house, her things, made her realize how lonely she’d been for company. How nice it was to share a space and find comfort in another’s presence.
She hadn’t moved since he’d set her on the counter and gone out to help his brother board up the sliding door. Their deep, muffled voices carried into the house, though she couldn’t make out the words. The familiar, easy way they talked spoke of their close bond. She didn’t have any siblings and wished many times for a sister or brother to lean on and confide in when times were tough. As close as she was to her parents, they sometimes didn’t understand her need for independence. They too often wanted to fix her problems for her, instead of letting her do things her way.
The lights went out in the dining room and Owen entered the kitchen, stopping several feet away. She leaned on her hands, her head bent nearly to her chest. She could only see his feet and legs.
“Claire, you’re exhausted. Why didn’t you just go up to bed?”
“The meds kicked in. Too tired to move.”
Unexpected and exciting, he plucked her right off the counter and settled her in his arms and against his broad, hard chest. Too tired to make a fuss and exert her independence, she gave in to something else entirely and snuggled closer, nestling her face in his neck and settling her head on his strong shoulder.
His chest rumbled with a laugh. “You’re like a contented cat, snuggling in for the night.”
“Deep down, I’m fine on my own. The meds have made me mushy and weak.”
“Not weak. After the night you’ve had, you just need a hug.”
He squeezed her to his chest. She tried to hide the wince of pain, but he felt her stiffen in his arms.
“Sorry, overstepped.”
They reached the top of the stairs, and he stopped.
“No, you didn’t. I didn’t realize how banged up I got. I feel like I got hit by a car,” she joked. “The meds are helping out considerably.
“My room’s on the right.”
Owen walked down the hall and entered her room, stopping just inside and looking around.
“Wow. It’s like another house in here.”
“I moved in over a year ago, but I spent all my time opening the shop and running it. A couple of months ago, I started on the house. I spend so much time at the shop, the most time I spend here is sleeping, so I redid the master bedroom first. I’ve upgraded the bathroom, but I still need to add the finishing touches.”
“You added the flower pots on the back patio with the lounge and table set.”
“I like to drink my coffee out there in the morning when the weather is nice.”
“You spend a lot of time working, so spending the morning outside is relaxing.”
“Yes. Sounds like the same is true for you, too.”
He nodded. “I spend most evenings outside reading over briefs and preparing for court. I take care of the horses and barn cats. It gets me out of my head.”
“You can put me down now.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
She laughed, and he set her on her bed.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping clean up and taking care of the door. If you’ll just lock up on your way out, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’m not leaving. I’ll crash on your couch for a couple of hours. I’ll drive you to work. What time do you need to be there?”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Owen, it’s not your fault that guy got the wrong address.”
“It doesn’t change the fact he threatened you and is still on the loose. Until they catch him, I’m keeping a close eye on you.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but the determined look in his eyes settled her and made her stop. Tonight, she didn’t want to be alone, and having him in the house while she slept made her feel better.
Settled into the pillow, she gave up the fight to stay awake and closed her eyes. “I need to be at the shop by ten thirty.”
He pulled the blanket at the end of the bed over her and tucked her in. She sighed, content to have him close and in her space. After what her husband did to her, she’d kept men at a distance. Maybe she needed to stop putting all men in the same category as her ex.
Owen brushed his hand over her head. “Goodnight, Claire.”
“There’s a blanket in the hall closet,” she mumbled.
“I’ll find it.”
“Leave the light on in the hall.”
“You got it, sweetheart.”
She peeked through her lashes, watching him walk to the door and turn back to look at her before he turned off the lights.
“Owen.”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.”
He closed the distance between them, planted both hands on the bed beside her shoulders, and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He pushed back up and leaned over her, his gaze locked with hers. Something intense vibrated around them and the moment stretched.
Without a word, he stood and walked out of the room, leaving her wanting to call after him to come back.
C
LAIRE WOKE TO
the smell of coffee and pancakes. Stiff and sore, especially her battered hip, she made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower. Clean, dry, and feeling a bit more limber, she dressed in simple black slacks with a turquoise top. She slid her re-bandaged feet into her sandals and went downstairs, amazed to see Owen at the stove, dressed in gray slacks, a crisp white dress shirt with a blue-and-gray tie draped around his neck, but not tied. He looked classy and elegant. Not like the man who’d been woken out of his sleep in the middle of the night and pulled on worn jeans and a Henley shirt. No, this Owen hid the ranch owner under a smooth varnish of class and sophistication.
He flipped pancakes with one hand and talked on his cell phone with the other.
“Yeah, the measurements I gave you should work. How long?
“Not good enough. I need you to put a rush on it.”
Without missing a beat, he poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her with a smile.
“Hey, the insurance is picking up the tab. Get it done. I’ve got to go. Give me a call when you’re ready to install it.” He hung up and stared at her.
The unexpected touch of his fingertip along her shoulder made her flinch.
“Still hurt?”
“No, not really. Maybe a little. I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I ran up to my place about an hour ago and got ready for work. Called your insurance first thing. They’ll cover your damages.”
“Is it worth them paying, since I have to pay the deductible?”
“I paid the deductible.”
“Owen . . .”
“Claire.”
“But . . .”
“I also negotiated a better deal on your insurance. You’ll get an updated bill and a small refund in a few days. Since Brody has a contractor working on his place, I called him. He’ll have a new double-pane sliding glass door installed day after next. He’ll even send the bill to the insurance company for you.”
“Um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. How do you feel this morning?”
“Achy and slow.”
“Drink your coffee. It’ll help wake you up. I think your pain meds are in your purse.”
“I’ll get them.” She moved to the counter, out of his way, but not far enough that she didn’t feel the pull between them. That weird sense of the morning after churned her stomach with nerves, but she didn’t know why. It’s not like anything really happened between them last night. He brought her home from the hospital. He took care of the broken window last night and this morning, saving her the trouble and money on her insurance. He stayed last night so she wouldn’t be frightened, and he didn’t comment on her childish need to keep the hall light on while she slept.
She let out a sigh, remembering the kiss he planted on her forehead and the intensity in the look he gave her last night. She snuck a peek over her shoulder. He plated up several pancakes, swiped a knife through the butter, and spread it over the stack. He grabbed the foil-covered pan on the back of the stove and spooned out steaming eggs. He caught her watching him and smiled.
“Something the matter?” he asked.
The butterflies in her gut and the voice in her head nudging her to kiss him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Making you breakfast.” He handed her the plate of food and turned back to the stove and prepared another plate for himself.
“Why?”
“I thought you might be hungry. You shouldn’t take those meds on an empty stomach.”
“Did you hear from the police about Dale?”
“They’re still looking for him.”
“So, that is why you’re here.”
“Get used to me hanging around. I’m not taking any chances he comes back to make good on his threat.”
“What if he sees you with me, it confirms his suspicions that I’m important to you, and he hurts me because of that?”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t be with me every minute of the day. You have work. I have work. We hardly know each other.”
“You’ll get to know me. Besides, even if they caught Dale today, I’d still want to spend time with you. How about dinner tonight?”
“You’re serious.”
“We’ll discuss it over breakfast. Come sit with me.”
He walked out of her kitchen and into the dining room and took a seat at her table. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d eaten there with guests. Most of the time, she sat at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. Alone.
She sat next to him and took a bite of the buttery pancakes and closed her eyes with a sigh. “These are outstanding.”
“Rain is the pancake maker in the family. The girls devour them most mornings. I paid attention. When you’re a long-time bachelor who lives miles from town, learning to cook is a necessity.
“Come up to the ranch tonight. I’ll barbeque up some steaks.” He looked sideways, considering something, and said, “I’ll take you out. We’ll have a nice quiet dinner in town before I bring you home tonight.”
“You don’t quit, do you?”
“It’s just dinner, Claire. We both need to eat. Besides, that smile you’re trying to hide tells me you don’t want me to quit.”
She hated to admit having a gorgeous man interested in her, making plans to take her to dinner, or—even better—cook for her made her want to smile. She liked Owen and his easygoing way. She didn’t feel pressured by his confident assertion that she’d fall in line with his meal plans. He somehow read in her that she’d like to spend the evening with him. Like he read her need not to be alone last night and stayed because she wanted him to.