Chapter 9 #4
Not if you’re innocent, she wanted to scream. But he was right. The court of public opinion had already deemed her a liar and a cheat, regardless of the truth.
“There’s got to be a way that we can communicate with each other. He might discover information that could help clear this mess up and vice versa. Shouldn’t we be in this together?”
There was a long pause. Gina could tell Sawyer was mulling the conundrum over in his head.
“Let me think about a safe way you two can talk without the tabloids catching wind of it. It’s your scandal, not mine. But until you have a truly private way to communicate, I’d suggest no more phone calls.”
He took the exit to Dry Creek. She recognized Mother Lode Road, where the coffee shop was. But when he turned off on a side street and drove for a few miles, she was in unfamiliar territory.
“Where are we?” The homes were close together with dirt driveways. In almost every yard there were a few goats, sheep, dogs, chickens, or a combination of all four.
A double-wide trailer in the style of a ranch house sat at the end of the cul-de-sac. Two tow trucks were parked on what passed for a lawn and a metal garage with four bays took up most of the property. In one of the inlets, she spied Sawyer’s Range Rover.
“This is Mama’s.” Sawyer parked under a shady tree in the dirt. “She owns the only tow service in town. Her son, Buck, is the local mechanic. You mind waiting while I check to see if my truck’s ready?”
“Sure.” It wasn’t as if she had anything better to do.
She pulled her hat down to cover her face.
Today, she’d taken too many chances of being recognized.
But what was she supposed to do—never leave her cabin?
Even on the ranch there was Aubrey and Charlie’s construction crew.
Wendy and Linda had told her to keep a low profile, not to lock herself away from all human contact.
She cracked the window for air, and watched Sawyer walk to the garage to the strains of “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” blaring from one of the car bays.
Ride a cowboy.
The thought had crossed her mind a time or two. Or three or four.
He returned a few minutes later and slid back into the driver’s seat. “Buck is waiting on parts, so no truck today.”
“It’s a good thing I waited.” It was a long walk home, she assumed, even though she didn’t have the foggiest notion where they were.
“Yup.” He reached inside his pocket and handed her his phone. “Put Danny’s number in there and I’ll call him to fill him in on the new protocol not to reach out to you anymore.”
So they were back to that again. He slid her a glance as if it was a test to see if she’d go along with him contacting Danny.
“You still think I’m lying, don’t you?”
“I believe you.” But his voice held a slight waver. Sawyer Dalton was nobody’s fool.
She respected him for that. It was the reason he was such a successful journalist. Despite her self-imposed banishment from the internet, she’d run a Google search on him.
Sawyer had cred, writing for just about every respected publication out there.
He hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t stoop to covering celebrity gossip.
His stories were about wars, coups, corruption, and world leaders.
And when he wasn’t traveling the globe, he was helping to run his family’s ranch.
Nope, Sawyer Dalton was no dupe.
“Good,” she said. “Because I’m telling the truth. What should we tell your mom?”
“We? We shouldn’t tell her anything. You, however, should tell her the truth. She works for you, I don’t.”
“Which raises a good question. Why? Why are you helping me?” Though she welcomed his advice—she could use all the support she could get—she wondered about his motivations.
He’d made it more than clear that he thought of her as a self-indulgent pest, who had commandeered his kitchen and got away with it because she was Wendy Dalton’s high-paying client.
There was a long silence; only the hum of the air-conditioner and the sound of tires swooshing against the pavement.
He finally said, “The sooner your name is cleared, the sooner you can go home. Besides, I’m getting fat with you around.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll be out of here faster than you can count to ten.” She threw her head back. “Oh, how I long for civilization.” But honestly, Dry Creek Ranch was beginning to grow on her.
Unfortunately, so was its owner.
“Civilization?” He raised a brow. “I’d hardly call Hell-A civilized.”
He pulled through the open ranch gate, which as long as Gina had lived here had never been closed. She didn’t know why they had a gate in the first place. Maybe it was to keep the animals in. But she’d never seen a cow on this side of the property and the dogs hung out at Jace’s house.
“Right, living in the Clampetts’ old place down by the river is the height of civilization,” she fired back.
“I’d say it’s a sight more civilized than running the paparazzi gauntlet in La-La Land.”
She’d used up all her pithy responses for the day.
“What are you cooking tonight?” His stomach rumbled as he continued up the blacktop road, past Jace and Charlie’s ranch house, to his loft apartment.
“I thought you were watching your girlish figure.” Nothing about Sawyer Dalton’s physique was girlish. Nope, he was all man, right down to his big ’ole cowboy boots. “Anyway, you’re out of luck, bucko. Tonight, I’m hanging out with Aubrey and Charlie.”
“What about that new ice cream maker? I thought we should test it out.”
“I bet you did. Unfortunately for you, I’ll be testing it all by my lonesome at the cabin and bringing it for dessert for our girls’ night.”
He parked her car in his driveway and let the engine idle. “So you’re not coming up?” He said it as if he was disappointed.
“Not today,” she said. “Why, you afraid you’ll miss me?”
He cut the motor and rubbed the bristle on his chin. “Maybe,” he said. “One thing I’ll say about you is that you’re entertaining.”
She turned in her seat to face him. “And my food. Don’t forget you’ll miss my cooking when I go, even if it is making you fat.” She took a slow turn down his T-shirt–covered torso, pausing on his abs. Nope, not an inch of fat on him.
“I guess I could always buy your frozen entrées. Try to choke ’em down.” The light in his blue eyes sparkled. He was enjoying teasing her.
“Then you’ll have your kitchen back.”
“Yep. Can’t wait.” He reached across the console and took off her sunglasses. Next came her hat.
She suddenly felt naked without them. Especially as he sat there, gazing at her face. She started to finger-comb her hair, but he pushed her hand away and held it in his much larger one. Then, he did something completely unexpected.
He leaned in, covered her mouth with his, and kissed her.
For a hard man, his lips were soft. And exquisitely pliant as they moved over hers, roaming until his tongue was licking into her mouth. She opened for him, letting him take the kiss deeper. He tasted good, like heat and desire, and she practically climbed over the center divider for more of him.
But he made it clear he was the one still in the driver’s seat, tilting her head so that he moved over her and controlled the kiss exactly the way he wanted it.
And, boy, did Sawyer Dalton know what he was doing.
That one hand was still holding hers and the other he’d cradled behind her head.
It was his mouth doing all the work. The hot pull of it was enough to make her panties melt.
He took his time exploring and tangling his tongue with hers.
She felt his bristle against her face. It tickled.
And the musky scent of his aftershave was like a special kind of aphrodisiac.
Her nipples tightened and her body tingled.
And her hands wanted to fill themselves with him.
But when she tried to touch him, he caught her hand and held it still, along with her other one.
It was slow, erotic torture. Just his lips and his tongue, making her temperature rise.
He hummed something low in his throat and lifted his head to look at her, heat simmering in his blue eyes. Once again, he dipped down and caught her mouth for another kiss. Just a short one this time, but sensual just the same.
Then he straightened up, opened the door and got out, tossing her the keys, before he went inside.
Gina sat there, her entire equilibrium off-balance. What just happened? She traced her finger over her swollen bottom lip, trying to pull herself together. Trying to quell the ache between her legs.
The bastard had kissed and run and had left her…well, she wouldn’t say unsatisfied. That had been about the most satisfying kiss she’d ever had. But to just walk away like that…to just leave her in the car all hot and bothered…She had half a mind to go after him and demand that he finish the job.
She didn’t, of course. She had more pride than that. Instead, she went home and made ice cream, hoping it would cool her off.