The Ranch She Left Behind. Kathleen O'Brien
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I mean. When I...”
She took a deep breath, held out her hand and managed a smile. “I guess I should properly introduce myself, even if it’s a little late. I’m Penny Wright. I’m your...your....”
He took her hand. “My landlady?”
She nodded. “I cannot tell you what an idiot I feel. If I had considered, even for a second, that you...that we...”
She flushed, starting at the neck, which wasn’t very helpful, because it caused Max to focus on the graceful column of her throat. His gaze followed the pink stain up, as it spread across the delicate jawline, and then her cheeks.
And, just like that, there it was again—the hot, helpless, fourteen-year-old feeling. He wanted to kiss that pulsing spot where her throat met her chin—and at the same time he wanted to be the white knight who knew exactly what to say to make her feel better.
But he couldn’t do either one, because he was too busy hoping she couldn’t tell what she did to him...physically. He realized he still held her hand, and he let it go as nonchalantly as he could.
He fought down the sensation. This was ridiculous. The both of them, grown adults, standing here temporarily reduced to blithering idiots—all over a casual kiss. A quick, closed-mouth kiss between total strangers that had meant absolutely nothing.
Get a grip, Thorpe.
“You shouldn’t feel foolish,” he said, smiling. “It was very sweet, and I didn’t mind a bit. But if you’d rather, we could agree that it never happened.”
She nodded eagerly. “If we could, if you would...I mean, that would be terrific. I’d appreciate it. So much. That’s not really me. I mean, I don’t do things like that, ordinarily. It was just—just this silly thing I did because...you see, I was making this crazy list, and—”
He was loving the stumbling explanation, and wondering whether he might have grown too cynical, through the years. This innocent honesty didn’t look like a sham. This looked like the real thing. An adorable, awkward naïveté.
But her cascade of half sentences was cut off by the arrival of more vehicles, which pulled up in a caravan and jockeyed one at a time for parking space in the street just outside the duplex. Max looked first at the newcomers—a late-model pickup truck, a hybrid SUV and a wildly expensive sports car. Then he looked at Penny, whose expressive face was registering both surprise and annoyance.
“Oh, my goodness, they are impossible! I should never have told them the address!” She glanced at Max apologetically. “My family. I told them not to come, but they’re...well, they hover. They mean well, but—”
“Hey! Penny!” A tall blond man in a suit hopped out of the truck, strode over and scooped Penny into his embrace. “What a surprise, kiddo! Ro called and she said we needed to get over here ASAP to help.”
“Dallas!” Penny’s annoyance seemed to fade as she accepted his hug. Max watched curiously, trying to sort out the relationships. Whoever this was, she liked him. Brother, maybe? But there wasn’t much resemblance.
“I’m sorry you had to come,” she said. “I’m perfectly fine on my own. There’s really nothing to be done. My furniture won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
“Ah, but that seems to be the problem. They can’t stand the idea of you camping out on a sleeping bag. Ro and Bree are mobilizing a small army to make this place homey. The SUV is loaded with food, supplies, blow-up mattress, books, shampoos, and there may even be a lawn mower back there. You’ll be lucky if they don’t start hanging wallpaper before it gets dark.”
Penny groaned. But then she seemed to remember her manners. She stepped back from the hug, and, putting her hand on the man’s arm, included Max in her smile.
“Dallas, this is my tenant, Max Thorpe. We’ve just met, this very minute. Max, this is my brother-in-law, Dallas Garwood.”
Max shook Dallas’s hand, noting the sharp scrutiny the blue-eyed man gave him and meeting it with a bland smile and a slightly raised brow. Dallas Garwood was the distrustful type? But what about Max made him suspicious in the first place?
“Nice to meet you, Dallas,” he said politely.
Another man had stepped out of the jazzy sports car and was making his way over. His greeting was warm, but a bit more restrained, as if he weren’t quite as close to Penny as Dallas was.
“Hey, Penny. I’m Gray, and—”
“Gray!” Dallas thumped the newcomer on the shoulder. “Penny, it’s hard to believe you haven’t met Gray. He’s been underfoot for months now. He’s been dying to meet you, because somehow he’s decided you’re the only one who can persuade Bree to set a wedding date.”
Penny accepted a hug from the second man, and then rather stiltedly attempted to introduce him to Max, too.
“Grayson Harper, this is Max Thorpe, my tenant. Max, Gray is my sister Bree’s—”
“Fiancé,” Gray said, stepping forward to help smooth over Penny’s uncertainty about the label. He shook Max’s hand, and again Max was aware of getting a steely-eyed, mildly threatening appraisal.
You’d better be a good guy, the stare said. You’d better not mess with our Penny.
Damn. Max wondered whether he had picked up some kind of scary stain that looked like blood while he was in the basement. Surely he didn’t give off a serial killer vibe, did he? He was just a road-weary dad in jeans and a suede jacket, holding his daughter’s Vampire High pulp novel, and a bubblegum-blue Slurpee cup. How dangerous could he possibly look?
“Nice to meet you, Gray,” he said with a deliberately cool tone. He met the aggressive gaze without blinking.
Commotion over by the cars drew their gazes. Two women were emerging from the hybrid SUV—one blonde, one black-haired, both stunning. They laughed as they stumbled over each other and tried to extricate large casserole dishes. Their hands were covered in large blue oven mitts that said the dishes were still hot.
The sisters, no doubt. Though where the family resemblance was, Max had no idea. Obviously they were bringing dinner—and everything else under the sun. The SUV was packed to the gills with random paraphernalia. In addition to the unwieldy casserole dish she carried, the brunette sister had a potted flower tucked under one elbow. The blonde had wedged a framed picture under each arm. They were so encumbered they could hardly walk.
For a second, Max understood why Penny had looked annoyed. Hover might be an understatement.
He needed to get out of the way and let her deal with this. “I’d better go find Ellen,” he said. “We’ve had a long day.”
She frowned. “But we...” She met his gaze with an apologetic smile, as if to say she knew they needed to talk more. But then her glance angled toward the approaching women, and she shut her eyes in something that looked like exhaustion.
“We’ll talk tomorrow?” She made it a question. “About...about the lease and everything. If there’s anything the agent didn’t provide—”
“Everything seems perfect,” he assured her. It was strange—especially given that she clearly already had an army poised to protect her—but he still had the urge to put her at ease. “We’re going to turn in early, I’m sure.”
He lifted one eyebrow playfully. “Most of it is already a bit of a blur. For instance, I can hardly remember this morning.”
She gave him a grateful smile. But the sisters had reached the driveway, so she launched one more time into a rote introduction. Max said the polite phrases, shaking hands with the two beauties who stared at him as if he were Jack the Ripper. They talked about having plenty of food to share, but he insisted on heading back into his own side of the duplex.
He almost got away. Just as he reached his own door, he saw a shadow fall behind him. He turned, and wasn’t