The Hottest Ticket in Town. Kimberly Meter Van
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who’d ever meant anything to you, including the Bradfords.”
“Shut your mouth. Don’t you dare talk to me about walking away when that’s exactly what you did when you joined the Marines, leaving me behind as if I were an old sack of potatoes,” she retorted, her fury returning in a blaze of fire. “You’ve some nerve, Kane Dalton, to talk to me like you’ve got a leg to stand on. You left me without so much as a ‘catch you later’ and I was left to deal with the fallout.”
Kane buttoned his lip—as well he should—and didn’t deny her accusation, but that didn’t stop him from maintaining his position. “The situation between me and you ain’t got nothing to do with the Bradfords. You could’ve kept in contact and if you had, you would’ve known about Cora.”
“I did keep in contact as much as my schedule allowed,” she told him as tears pricked her eyes, but she held them back. He was right. She should’ve made more of an effort, but Trent kept her moving at breakneck speed and it was hard enough to remember what city she was in, much less to call people from her former life. But she couldn’t say that—even to her own ears it sounded petty and self-absorbed, no matter that it was the truth—and so she swallowed her tears and her need to defend herself and simply jerked a short nod, conceding a small point. “I love the Bradfords and they love me. If you don’t believe me, you can go screw yourself.” Ignoring her nakedness, because who cared at this point, she tossed the blanket away and climbed from the bed, proud as you please, then scooped up her discarded clothing and walked from the room with her head held high. Take a good look, Kane, because it’s the last one you’re gonna get!
HOT DAMN, THAT ass was going to be the death of him, Kane thought as Laci left the room, purposefully giving him an eyeful out of spite. Oh yeah, he knew it was spite, too, because he could see it in the angry twitch of her sweet hips as she exited. She’d wanted him to know exactly what he was missing—as if he didn’t already know—and make him hurt with the knowledge. His cock throbbed with plaintive disappointment and he pushed at the stiff member with irritation. Ain’t nothing gonna happen with you, so settle down.
He found his jeans and a T-shirt and went straight to the kitchen for some coffee and a slice of Cora’s peach pie. It didn’t matter that Laci was here; the chores waited for no one—that was one thing he’d learned all those years ago and nothing had changed that fact.
He found Laci already brewing the coffee, except he noted with a mix of relief and disappointment that she’d dressed—although the short sparkly number wasn’t exactly made for modesty—and he wondered what her plans were. She couldn’t stay, that was all he knew, but he’d wait until after he’d had his pie to deliver that sour news.
“Did you leave your tiara at home?” he asked, gesturing to her getup with a grimace. “What the hell are you wearing?”
Laci glared. “Don’t you dare get after me for what I’m wearing because it’s none of your business.” She glanced down at the short, impossibly tight dress, but admitted snippily, “If you must know, it’s all I had with me. I left in a hurry.”
That begged more questions, but he bit his tongue. He didn’t want to know what trouble she was in. Whatever was happening in her life was her own doing. Still, he didn’t think he could focus with her traipsing around in that sparkly thing. “I’m sure Cora wouldn’t mind if you borrowed a dress or shirt or something other than that thing,” he said.
“There’s no way I’m going to fit into anything Cora can wear and you know it. You’re just going to have to deal with me in my costume until I can get to town and pick up some supplies.”
“Whoa, now. What are you talking about? You thinking of staying?” The alarm in his voice did nothing for her already prickly disposition, but he couldn’t help it. “C’mon now, what are you thinking? Don’t you have your famous life to get back to?”
“You hush your mouth before you choke on your damn foot,” she snapped with a glower. “I can see right now some things never change. Tact was never your strong suit.”
“Don’t see no point in sugarcoating shit.”
Laci drew a deep breath and started over. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I didn’t even know you would be here, but we have ourselves a situation that we need to work together to figure out.”
He crossed his arms and waited. “This ought to be good. Tell me how we’re going to work this out? I’m all ears.”
“So the Bradfords aren’t here and you’re taking care of the ranch for them,” she surmised.
“That’s about the long and short of it, but I fail to see how that creates a situation for the two of us when it seems pretty clear to me what the solution is.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Is that so? Enlighten me.”
“You leave. I stay.”
“And why should I have to leave? The Bradfords have extended a standing invitation to me. I have every right to be here with their blessing.”
“Why would you want to?” he asked point-blank. “It’s not like we’re the best of friends. I have a purpose for being here...you don’t.” She bit her lip, her gaze acknowledging that fact, but there was something else there, something she wasn’t saying, that she held back. Kane didn’t want to care, but he couldn’t seem to help himself, saying roughly, “Listen, you’ve got your reasons for coming and it’s none of my business. All I’m saying is that I can’t leave because I made a commitment to the Bradfords. You can stay or go, your choice, but if you choose to stay, it could be awkward.”
“So you wouldn’t care if I stayed?”
Hell yes, he would care. “No,” he lied, because there was no sense in adding more fuel to the fire. The fact was, there was some truth to her accusation that he’d left her behind, but she didn’t know the whole story, nor would he tell her, either—that was his gift to her, even if she never knew the whole of it. But he supposed if his arm were twisted, he’d have to admit there was no harm in letting her hang out if she needed to. The ranch was plenty big enough. Hell, he could take the pump house and let her stay in her old bedroom. He exhaled a long breath, prepared to do the one thing he never saw himself doing. “We got off on the wrong foot...you can stay. I’ll move out to the pump house and give you the room. If we stay out of each other’s hair, everything should be fine. We’re adults, right?”
“Yeah,” she agreed and damn, if that wasn’t the right thing to remind each other at the moment because he was fairly certain she was remembering what they’d almost done this morning as adults. She cleared her throat and smiled, gesturing to the coffeepot. “So, how about we share a pot of coffee and start over? Can we do that?”
Sure. And maybe she could stop being so damn easy on the eyes? He cut his gaze away, needing a minute to school his thoughts before they gave him away. “How long you thinking of staying?” he asked, needing to know how long he’d have to suffer the constant barrage of the past in the form of the present.
“Just a few days, I suspect. That okay?”
He grunted in answer. “Sure. I can handle a few days.” He reached for the pot and poured himself a mug, then, because he was practically raised by Cora to do the right thing, he poured Laci a mug as well before moving to the oven where he pulled out the pie. “Grab some plates, will you?” he asked and Laci smiled with delight as she did so.
“Cora made peach pie before she left? That dear old thing is the living embodiment of Betty Crocker and I love her for it,” Laci said, accepting a slice from him.
“Yeah, and Warren gave her hell for it, too. She’s real sick, Laci. I don’t know if that treatment is going to do a bit of good at this point.”
“Really?” Laci’s expression dimmed as she took a bite, but a smile