Chapter Eight
Joe hadn’t expected Chloe to catch him looking at the sexy lingerie on display, let alone fondling them. So the moment their eyes met, he felt like a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the candy bowl.
Had she known that he’d been thinking of buying one of those skimpy nighties for her?
That he’d envisioned her sitting on the side of his bed, like she had last night, only dressed in a whisper of black silk instead of a cotton gown?
Not that the thin cotton hadn’t been just as sweet and sensual to look at—just in a different sort of way.
He’d better put some distance between her and his lust-filled thoughts before he asked her to try on something for size.
So he let the slinky fabric slip out of his hand and said, “If you don’t mind, I’m going downstairs to check out the menswear.
I need to buy some clothes that fit me better than jeans with a thirty-inch inseam and old high school T-shirts that make me look like a band geek.
” Then he headed for the escalator before she could answer.
She must have gotten sidetracked with another purchase, because by the time she found him in the shoe department, where he was trying on a pair of cowboy boots, he’d already bought three pairs of jeans and several work shirts.
She took the seat next to him and glanced at the shopping bags on the floor. “I see you’ve been busy.”
“It’s easy when there’s a good selection.”
“That’s why I love this store. Every time I come in here, I want a ranch of my own. I didn’t grow up around horses, but I must be a cowgirl at heart.”
“I thought you were a nurse at heart.”
“Maybe I’m both.”
He stopped wrestling with the second boot long enough to cast a glance her way and catch a glimmer in her eye. “If you had a ranch of your own, would you give up nursing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’d probably invite some friends to live with me, so I’m not sure how much time I’d have to study.”
“Which friends?”
She bit down on that bottom lip again. Then she shrugged a single shoulder. “I’m not sure. I really haven’t thought much about it.”
He didn’t believe her. She seemed too pensive. She must have given it more than a little consideration. But he let the remark pass and removed the first pair of boots from his feet and reached for the black Ropers.
As he tried those on, Chloe stood and wandered through the women’s shoe section until she stopped at a table that displayed a pair of custom stitched red boots.
“Aren’t these cool? I wonder if they have them in a size six.” She turned them over and glanced at the sticker price on the sole. Then she put them right back where she’d found them.
She continued to study them a moment longer, though.
He figured she couldn’t afford a new pair of anything, let alone expensive leather boots. Yet here she was, shopping for gifts for her elderly friends in the nursing home. She’d also been sharing her groceries with him and shelling out gas money to drive him into Houston.
When Chloe wandered off to check out a display of slippers, Joe asked the clerk if she had those red boots in a size six. When the woman said they did, he asked her to add them to his latest purchase—the black Roper boots.
Once he’d paid for both pairs, he hid hers at the bottom of the bag that held his clothing and headed for the slipper display to join her.
“Did you find something else to buy?” he asked.
“I was looking for something to go with the nightgown I bought for Ethel. But I don’t think she’ll like any of these.” She shifted the shopping bag she held to her other hand. “Is there something else you need?”
“A hat,” he said, “especially if I’ll be working on the ranch with Tomas.”
“I saw them near the escalators.” She bumped his arm with hers. “Come on.”
He followed her to the display and considered his options. Knowing he’d soon get it dirty, he reached for a straw hat and tried it on.
He’d no more than given it a proper tilt when Chloe snatched it from his head, replaced it with a black felt Stetson and smiled. “I’ve always been a sucker for a man in a black hat.”
“Sold.” He flashed her a boyish grin, then headed for the nearest register. After paying the clerk, he decided to wear it out of the store.
As Joe and Chloe strode toward the pickup, he inadvertently bumped her shoulder. Apparently she thought he’d done it on purpose, because she smiled and bumped him right back.
“I’m glad we came here today,” she said. “It’s been a nice break from everything, and I had fun.”
“Me, too.” He felt compelled to take her hand in his, but after considering the consequences of a move like that, the possible complications, he held back.
Besides, something still wasn’t quite right, leaving him completely off stride. In spite of what he’d learned at the NCIS office, he felt undeserving, not only of medals, but of the beautiful blonde who walked beside him.
Why was that?
What memories was his mind still holding hostage?
Joe had been pretty quiet on the drive home, and his pensive mood hadn’t lifted, even after dinner. He’d volunteered to do the dishes, then had insisted on making the tamales on his own, saying he wanted the quiet time, hoping it would trigger some memories.
If it had, Chloe had no way of knowing, because two hours later he excused himself and turned in for the night, leaving her to watch TV alone.
It had been a long day, and she was exhausted, so she turned off the television at ten. After setting the alarm for six so she’d be the first one up, she went to bed.
She slept fairly well and, just as she’d hoped, she beat Joe to the kitchen, where she put on the coffee, then fried some turkey sausage and whipped up the pancake batter. She’d just set the table, when Joe finally entered the room.
He was sporting his new clothes and holding his hat, which he set on the table. As he sauntered to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup of the fresh brew, he moved with a sexy swagger that scrambled her senses.
Dang. Joe Wilcox looked better than a cowboy had a right to.
If he knew she’d been ogling him, he didn’t let on. Instead, when he looked at her, he blessed her with a heart-stopping grin.
“So what’s on the agenda today?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Did he think she had another shopping trip in store for him?
“Do you have a list of things you’d like me to do? Or should I go outside and look for Tomas?”
Oh, he meant work. Actually, having him busy and out of the house would allow her more time to search the files in the den and to decide what she was going to do now that Dave wasn’t coming home.
She also wanted to contact the coroner’s office in San Diego and find out how she could get a copy of Dave’s death certificate.
She didn’t know a thing about estate planning or probate court, but she was pretty sure she’d need to file some official documents with somebody. But she kept those thoughts to herself.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want Joe to know what she was doing. She had nothing to hide. But after the troubling dream he’d had two nights ago and their visit to the NCIS office yesterday, she figured the poor man had been through enough and she didn’t want to burden him with her financial woes.
“Tomas is probably already out and about,” Chloe said. “As soon as I see him, I’ll ask if he has any work that needs to be done. Do you know anything about cattle or horses?”
“I’m not sure. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He went back to eating, digging into that stack of hotcakes and syrup with the same gusto he’d shown yesterday at lunch and again last night at dinner.
Joe either had a hearty appetite or was just as anxious to get to work as she was. An active man like him had to be going stir-crazy by being cooped up indoors with no physical outlet.
Of course, if they spent any more time alone together, Chloe might lose her head and offer to provide him with a physical outlet of the bedroom variety.
Her cheeks warmed at the thought, and she turned away to avoid his gaze.
When a horse whinnied outside, she looked out the big bay window and spotted Tomas walking Lola to the paddock. The prize broodmare had been stabled in the barn and was expected to foal soon. He must be exercising her.
“There’s Tomas now,” she said. “Why don’t we go out and ask him what needs to be done. I’ll come back and wash the breakfast dishes later.”
Joe’s chair scraped the tile floor as he scooted away from the table. Then, after getting to his feet, he snatched his hat and followed her from the kitchen, through the mudroom and out the back door.
Once outside, he slipped on the new Stetson and gave it a little adjustment—just like a real live Texan.
Even though his stonewashed jeans and flannel work shirt were brand-new, they appeared to have been worn several times before. With the added boots and hat, he looked like the real McCoy—born and raised on the Rocking C—and not just a city slicker who wanted to play rancher.
Chloe hadn’t meant to admire the sexy marine’s transformation, but she’d always been a sucker for a handsome cowboy. And she was eager to see how he did on a horse.
She had a sneaking suspicion that he was no stranger to the ranch life. And with the way his backside filled out that denim, he was certainly no stranger to looking the part.
“Buenos dias,” Joe said to Tomas.
The ranch foreman responded in Spanish. They spoke that way for a while, then lapsed into English.
If Chloe had been able to focus on more than two words at a time, she would have appreciated the switch to a language she could understand.
While they talked, she tried to get her lusty thoughts in check. Finally, she managed to tune in to the end of their conversation.
“That would be helpful,” Tomas said, “if you’re sure you’re up for it.”
Joe insisted that he was.
“Good.” The foreman brightened. “Then I can stay here and work in the stables, just in case Lola needs me.”