Suddenly, Annie's Father. Sherryl Woods
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a cloud of perfume in her wake. Slade tried not to let the scent stir him the way it usually did. Sometimes he thought he smelled that soft, flowery aroma in the middle of the night. Those were the nights he tossed and turned till dawn and cursed the day Val had come to live at White Pines and taken an interest in him.
“Nice view,” she observed, gazing out at the creek. “What are you doing here, by the way?”
“Moving in,” he said, backing out of the room before his body could get any ideas about tossing her onto that feather mattress to see if it—and she—were as soft as he imagined.
She turned slowly. “Alone?”
“No.”
Something that might have been disappointment flared briefly in her eyes. “I see.”
Guilt over that look had him admitting the truth. “My daughter’s coming to stay with me.” He tested the words aloud and found they didn’t cause quite so much panic since his talk with Cody. Knowing he’d have backup had eased his mind. Maybe Annie could survive having a father as inept as him, after all.
Val’s expression brightened with curiosity. She seized on the tidbit as if he’d tossed her the hottest piece of gossip since the world had discovered that singer Laurie Jensen had a secret baby by the man who was now her husband.
“You have a daughter?” she asked. “How old? What’s she like? Where’s she been all this time? What about her mother?”
Slade grinned despite himself. “You care to try those one at a time?”
“Oh, just tell me everything and save us both the aggravation,” she retorted. “I wouldn’t have to pester you so if you’d open up in the first place.”
“Is that so? And here I thought you enjoyed pestering me.”
“Getting you to talk is a challenge,” she admitted. “And you know how we women react to a challenge.”
He regarded her intently. “So, if I just blab away, you’ll go away eventually?”
She grinned. “Maybe. Try it and see.”
“Sorry. I’m too busy right now. Maybe another time.”
The dismissal didn’t even faze her. “Busy doing what? Looked to me like you were daydreaming when I came in.”
“Which is why it’s all the more important for me to get started with the work around here now,” he said, and headed for the kitchen again. He’d seen cleaning supplies in there on his first stop. He snatched up a broom, a vacuum, dust cloths and furniture polish. He figured he could give the place a decent once-over in an hour and be back on the job before noon.
Val reached for the broom. “Give me that. I’ll help.”
Slade held tight. “There’s no need. You’ll ruin your clothes.”
The woman always dressed as if she were about to meet with the press or go out for cocktails. He doubted she owned a pair of jeans or sneakers, much less boots. In fact, today was one of the rare occasions when she wasn’t wearing those ridiculous high heels she paraded around in. He had to admit those shoes did a lot for her legs. It was almost a disappointment when she traded them for flats, as she had today.
In flats, she barely came up to his chin, reminding him of just how fragile and utterly feminine a creature she was. It brought out the protective instincts in him, despite the fact that there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Val Harding could look out for herself. Heaven knew, she protected Laurie with a ferocity that was daunting. No one got anywhere close to the singer without Val’s approval. Slade secretly admired that kind of loyalty. Too bad Suzanne hadn’t possessed even a quarter as much. They might have stayed married.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, give me the broom,” Val said. “A little dust never hurt anything. You’ll get finished that much sooner if you let me help. Otherwise, I’ll just trail around after you asking more questions you don’t want to answer.”
She had a point about that. It wasn’t likely she’d respond to his dismissal and just go away. Reluctantly, Slade relinquished the broom and watched as she went to work with a vengeance on the wide-plank oak floors in the living room. She attacked the job with the same cheerfulness and efficiency with which she ran Laurie’s professional life.
When she glanced up and caught Slade staring at her, she grinned. “Get to work. I said I’d help, not do the whole job.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said at once, and turned on the vacuum. As he ran it over the carpet in the bedrooms, he could hear her singing with wildly off-key enthusiasm. He wondered if Laurie had ever heard one of her country music hits murdered quite the way Val was doing it.
With her help, he had the house tidied up in no time. Fresh air was drifting through the rooms and filling them with the sweet scent of recently cut grass and a hint of Janet’s roses from the gardens at the main house.
An odd sensation came over him as he stood in the living room and gazed about, listening to Val stirring around in the kitchen. The place felt like home, like some place a man could put down roots. For a man who’d spent most of his adult life on the road, it was a terrifying sensation.
* * *
Slade Sutton was the most exasperating, frustrating man on the face of the earth. Val watched him take off without so much as a thank-you. He looked as if he were being chased by demons as he fled the house. The limp from his accident was more exaggerated as he tried to move quickly. She knew his expression, if she’d been able to see his face, would be filled with annoyance over his ungainly gait and, most of all, over her.
Of course, he had that look a lot when he was trying to get away from her, she admitted with a sigh. It had been months since she’d first met him, and she could honestly say that she didn’t know him one bit better now than she had when she’d paid her first visit to White Pines.
No, that wasn’t quite true. Today she’d learned he had a daughter. Amazing. How could anyone keep a secret like that, especially around the Adamses, who made her look like an amateur when it came to nosing into other people’s lives? Laurie had tried to keep Harlan Patrick’s baby a secret from him and that had lasted less than six months. Of course, the tabloids had had a hand in leaking that news and sending Harlan Patrick chasing after Laurie.
A lot of women would have given up if they’d had the same reception from Slade that Val had had. Why go through the torment of rejection after rejection? Why poke and prod and get nothing but a shrug or a grunted acknowledgment for her persistence? She’d asked herself that a hundred times while she’d been in Nashville this last time. She’d hoped that a little distance from the ranch would give her some perspective, maybe dull the attraction she felt for him. After all, Slade Sutton wasn’t the last man on earth.
But he was the only one in years who’d intrigued her, the only one who hadn’t been using her to get closer to Laurie. In fact, he was the only man she knew who barely spared a glance for the gorgeous superstar. Val had caught him looking at her, though, sneaking glances when he thought she wasn’t aware of him. Maybe that hint of interest, reluctant as it was, was what kept her going.
Or maybe it had something to do with how incredibly male he was. Handsome as sin, a little rough around the edges, he had eyes a woman could drown in. She’d discovered that when he finally took off his sunglasses long enough to allow anyone to catch a glimpse of them. A dimple flirted at the corner of his mouth on the rare occasions when he smiled. His jaw looked as if it had been carved from granite. In fact, he was all hard angles and solid muscle, the kind of man whose strength wasn’t obtained in a gym, but just from living.
Bottom line? He made her mouth water. She sometimes thought that if he didn’t kiss her soon, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.
Then again, she preferred to think she wasn’t quite so shallow. That it wasn’t all about lust and sex. Maybe she just liked a good mystery.
Slade