Slow Hand Luke. Debbi Rawlins
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that she had nothing else to spend her money on.
Annie muttered a curse under her breath. How could she have been so selfish? If she’d only taken the time to visit in the past five years….
“Hey.”
She looked at Luke. “What?”
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Right.” He looked around, then held up the bag. “Where do you want me to put this?”
“Anywhere.” She shook her head. “I’ll take it.” The place was worn but couldn’t be neater. The least she could do was to keep it that way.
He let go of the bag but she didn’t like the way he studied her, as if trying to figure out what was going on inside her head. “I sure could use something cold to drink,” he said before she could figuratively show him the door.
“I’m not sure what’s available—”
“Water would be fine.”
She could hardly refuse. She set the bag on the brown corduroy recliner and started to go right, and then realized the kitchen was the other way. He followed, not bothering to hide his interest in the place, checking out the chipped windowsills and cracked kitchen linoleum.
Silly for her to take it personally, but she did. By the time she got to the refrigerator, her annoyance had escalated. She owed him something to drink at the very least. Maybe she should even offer him some money for his time, and then she’d politely explain that she was exhausted. Anybody would get the hint and leave.
She found some orange juice and a jug of iced tea, and then she got out a tray of ice. It took a couple of tries before she found the cupboard that held glasses, a collection of mismatched tumblers and a set of tall pastel plastic ones. She heard a funny click and turned around.
Luke stood there with the blade of his army knife extended toward her.
3
A NNIE’ S GAZE FIXED on the knife. “What are you doing?”
Too late, Luke realized how it must look. He picked up the kitchen chair and turned it upside down. “This thing is a little shaky. Figure it needed some tightening.”
“Oh.” She blinked, then looked at him with relief in her eyes. “Thanks.”
“Happy to help.” This setup was perfect. Luke smiled at Annie. She was cute in an earthy sort of way. With her long untamed brown hair and wide hazel eyes with barely any makeup, she reminded him of a girl he’d hung out with in high school, in fact the only dark-haired girl he’d ever dated. And that had been only the once. After going to a movie, and then making out under the bleachers at the football stadium, they’d ended up being more like buddies. Until he’d skipped town.
He finished the task of tightening two of the legs, his mind racing. Obviously he couldn’t go back to his granddad’s ranch. Seabrook’s hired guns shouldn’t have figured it out and found the place so quickly. Luke had underestimated them. But staying in a motel around these parts was out of the question. He might as well take out an ad in the local paper telling them where he was. Yet he needed to stay close, to find a way to get to Joanne.
Annie Corrigan didn’t know it yet, but she was the answer to his problem. He set the chair to rights and smiled at her. “Have a seat, darlin’.”
Frowning slightly, she set a glass of what looked like apple juice on the table, or maybe it was Scotch. Either one was all right with him. “You go ahead,” she said.
“Anything wrong?” He removed his hat and set it on the table as he slid onto the chair.
“What? Oh, no, I was just—it’s nothing.”
He nodded, picked up the glass, smelled the apple juice and sipped its icy sweetness. He’d have much preferred scotch or better yet, beer, but for now, he needed to keep a wholesome impression. “You know if Chester’s still driving?”
“Not a clue.” She poured herself a glass, and he helped himself to a good look at the generous curve of her backside.
He looked up as soon as she turned around. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll get that car of yours out of the ditch.”
She looked torn. “I don’t want to inconvenience you any more than—”
“You can cook me breakfast. How’s that?”
She sighed, briefly closing her eyes and rubbing her right temple. “Then you’ll have to take me to the store to get groceries, and I’ll owe you again.”
Like hell, he’d go into town. He smiled. “Cheer up.”
“Right.” Her gaze went from the cracked linoleum floor to the yellow refrigerator that had to be over fifteen years old. “Have you taken a good look at this place?”
“Not your responsibility, is it?”
“Uh, yeah, it is, sort of,” she said, abruptly looking away. “It’s complicated.”
“So you’re gonna be fixing it up?”
She turned back to him, her lips parting, but nothing came out. Her shoulders sagged, and finally she said, “Yes.”
“Then you’re in luck. Just so happens I’m between jobs. For room and board, I’m all yours.”
“Really?”
“Do with me as you please, ma’am.”
Her lips twitched. “That’s quite an offer.”
Luke smiled. “You don’t know the half of it.”
She breathed in, her breasts expanding beneath her thin white cotton shirt. “Are you sure about this? It seems like the place needs an awful lot of work.”
“I can’t promise to get it all done, but I’ll do what I can in the next ten days.”
“Fair enough. But I insist on paying you something, as well.”
“No need. A roof over my head and grub in my belly is plenty.”
She frowned suddenly. “Wait a minute. You have a place near here.”
“Yeah, well, the thing is…” He cleared his throat. He knew the question was bound to come up, but he didn’t have an easy answer without sounding like a whipped dog. “I haven’t been back for a while, and the place is a mess.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to concentrate on getting your place in shape?”
He scrubbed at his face. How many questions was this woman gonna ask?
“Not that I wouldn’t appreciate the help…” Curiosity brought out the golden flecks in her eyes.
“Look, when I say I haven’t been back in a while, I’m talking a long time,” he muttered and saw that her interest hadn’t died any. “It’s complicated,” he said, echoing her earlier words.
She sat there quietly for a moment, her thoughts clearly somewhere else, and then said, “Got it.” She stuck out her hand. “You have a deal.”
He stared at her hand for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the gesture, but damn, he didn’t know any women who shook hands. They hugged, they kissed, some of them even pinched his ass, but they didn’t shake hands. Not that this was a bad thing. Just different.
“Um, something wrong?”
“Nope.” He slid his palm against her warm soft flesh. “Deal.”
“Good.”
Neither of them moved for several moments. She withdrew her hand first, took a quick sip of the juice she’d poured for herself and then got up.
He leaned back in the chair and