The Rancher's Unexpected Family. Helen Lacey
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heart and a good chunk of his savings.
Cole shrugged off the memory and got to his feet. “We should probably unpack.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Sure. I’ll just get the bed linen. I’ll meet you outside.”
He took off as though his heels were on fire, instructing Maisy to follow. By the time he was at the car and had taken their luggage from the trunk, the knot of tension in his shoulders had lessened. Until Ash McCune came around the porch and down the steps, carrying a wicker laundry basket piled with sheets and towels.
She swayed when she walked. Swayed. Damn.
Get a grip, Quartermaine.
Cole grabbed both his and Maisy’s suitcases and left his daughter to bring his laptop and her small tote. He stayed several feet back as he followed Ash around the rear of the house and toward the largest of the five cabins that were all within a couple of hundred yards of the main house. She placed the basket on one hip, climbed the steps, opened the door and then walked inside. Cole did the same, instructing Maisy to follow, but her cell rang and his daughter quickly dropped her bag onto the porch near the door and sat down on the step. Figuring it was one of her school friends, he told her not to take too long and gave her some privacy, then entered the house.
The cabin was roomy and open plan, with raked ceilings, a small kitchen and dining area and a large living space. There were a couple of mismatched sofas, a cabinet that housed a television, a gaming console and a large stone fireplace and hearth. It looked clean and comfortable and very livable.
“There are two bedrooms,” she explained. “The fridge and pantry are stocked with the basics, but if you have any special dietary requirements, there’s a supermarket in town. You’re also welcome to join us for dinner at the main house whenever you like.”
Cole nodded and followed her down the short hallway. She walked into a room on her left and placed the basket on the double bed. There was a robe, a small dresser and a chair in the corner and a worn rug on the floor. Cole thought about his huge penthouse apartment, with its modern decor and city views. He’d bought the place after his divorce, fully furnished and without any mementos from his failed marriage.
“I’m sure we’ll be comfortable, thank you.”
“Would you like me to make the bed up?” she asked.
He realized they were standing on opposite sides of the bed and met her gaze head-on. He glanced at the mattress and the serviceable blue patterned quilt draped over the bottom frame. “I’ve been making my own bed since I was eight years old, so I’m pretty sure I can manage.”
One of her incredibly sexy eyebrows arched dramatically. “Well, you did say you were good at most things.”
Cole’s pulse quickened and he motioned toward the bed between them. Awareness flared up, fanned by how the small room suddenly seemed absurdly intimate. “Would you like me to prove it?”
Her mouth opened slightly and she gasped. “Huh?”
Cole didn’t miss the startled look in her eyes. “We could...” He paused, fascinated as color rose up her neck, hueing her pale skin. Without even knowing how it happened, there was enough heat combusting the air between them to start a fire. “We could make it together. The bed, I mean.”
She swallowed hard and stepped back. “I don’t think... I’m sure you’ll manage without me.”
Cole smiled and half shrugged. “Of course. But it won’t be anywhere near as much fun.”
The innuendo was obvious and she turned beet red. And then fled.
It was, he realized, still smiling to himself as he watched her retreating figure disappear through the doorway, going to be a very long three weeks.
I am officially the most foolish woman on the planet.
Ash was still cussing herself twenty minutes later as she washed up and changed into fresh jeans and a red blouse. Then she opened her laptop and typed in the name Cole Quartermaine.
She clicked several of the links that came up, scanned the pages and sat back on the bed, looking at the images on the screen. The Quartermaines were an old-money family in Phoenix. His third-generation Irish Catholic father had a mop of auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes, and his African American mother was so beautiful she looked like a movie star. He had two sisters, both younger. One was a lawyer, the other a marketing executive who worked in the family business. Cole had been born into a NASCAR empire and had a promising career as a driver until a near-fatal accident when he was twenty-seven. Now he managed the family’s team alongside his father. It was impressive stuff.
There were several pictures of him with an array of beautiful women and she figured a man who looked like Cole didn’t have to work hard to get female company. She’d read that he had an ex-wife and there was no mention of a current significant other.
By the time she returned to the kitchen it was past two o’clock. Her mother and uncle would be home later that afternoon, along with Jaye and the three kids currently staying at the ranch. They’d headed into town that morning for haircuts and lunch at JoJo’s Pizza Parlor and to give Ash some much needed time to do a few repairs on the old truck that had seen better days. But she wasn’t in the mood to spend any more time under the hood. She planned on making a roast for dinner that night, so set about preparing the meal and getting the meat into the oven. Then she pulled one of her mother’s signature peach pies out of the freezer and left it to thaw on the counter.
From the kitchen window she had a clear view of all the cabins and wandered back and forth a few times to see if there was any movement from the one now occupied by her newest guests. But nothing. She made a pot of coffee and looked through the pantry for something to snack on, settling on a half-eaten packet of rice crackers.
Note to self—must stop thinking about a certain hot dad. Focus on the real reason he’s here.
Easy.
Ash was dipping into the packet for her third cracker when there was a knock on the door of the back mudroom, which was just off the kitchen. She turned on her heels. The door was open and Cole stood there, looking so totally gorgeous as he rested one strong shoulder against the jamb that her mouth turned dry and the cracker she was eating suddenly felt like sandpaper as it lodged in her throat.
“Oh...hello,” she said and coughed, then coughed again, quickly making her way around the counter for some water. She poured a glass, still coughing. She took a few sips, but the itching in her throat remained and she coughed again. And again. Until her eyes starting watering and she had to bend over to alleviate the dry, choking sensation.
Then she felt an unexpected hand on her back. A large, soothing hand that patted her gently between the shoulder blades. The coughing quickly subsided and she swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his touch through the cotton shirt she wore. Ash straightened immediately, swiveling on her heels. Which only heightened the intimacy of the space between them—which was no space at all. His hand remained on her back and they were close enough that she could see he had a small scar on his temple and another under his chin. And the scent of him once again assailed her senses. Never in her life had she been so intensely aware of a man—particularly one she’d known less than an hour. But this man made her remember that she was more than a mom, a rancher and a police officer...and that she was very much a flesh-and-blood woman.
“Are you okay now?” he asked quietly, dropping his hand.
Ash stepped back and nodded. “Ah, yes... I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said and moved around the counter.
“Oh, no problem, I feel fine now. What can I do for you?”
“I thought we should talk,” he said and met her gaze. “About Maisy. You probably have some questions