Chapter 3
3
Daniel
H e’d have to be clueless not to notice the way Aria and one of the Palmers watched him for most of the afternoon. Didn’t they have anything better to do than gawk at him? Daniel didn’t know what Mateo had his younger siblings doing most of the day, but if it had been Charlie hovering on the porch, Daniel would have made sure she stayed busy.
There was always something to do around a ranch—broken things that needed fixing, peeled paint that needed to be touched up, animals that needed looking after.
But this wasn’t his livelihood.
Mateo could run things the way he saw fit, and Daniel was only going to be here for a week anyway. For the most part, Daniel attempted to ignore the fact that he had an audience. Unfortunately, it was harder than he’d expected.
Aria was part of the Palmer family, but that didn’t mean she was a good person. Anyone who smiled that much was hiding something. Based on what he’d walked in on last night, she was dealing with secrets.
But it sounded like she’d been speaking to Sophia. You can’t judge her on one overheard conversation.
It wasn’t the fact that he’d overheard a conversation with Sophia. It was the way her demeanor had shifted. She’d been real and vulnerable with Sophia, but the second she caught sight of him, she changed.
It had been unnerving at best. Anyone who could flip a switch and become a different person couldn’t be trusted. Then she’d brushed off his help with the luggage. Whoever Aria was, she wasn’t someone he wanted to have anything to do with. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to have an interest in the horses, and she was staying at the big house.
Their paths wouldn’t cross if he had anything to say about it.
For a first day, it wasn’t so bad.
Sophia was one of the better wranglers he’d had the pleasure of covering for. She had lists upon lists, schedules and notes written up and waiting for him. She told him which horses needed to be worked with first and the bits about their temperament that he needed to watch out for.
All in all, it was a good day, and he found that he was looking forward to the rest of the week.
Could be more than that, though.
The voice in his head taunted him. Mateo had mentioned as much when he’d agreed to help out. He’d been vague about why he had to leave for Georgia. There was a family issue that needed resolving. Daniel wasn’t the type to pry, and he thought he’d seen the appreciation in Mateo’s eyes when he agreed to the favor without any further prodding.
By the time he’d completed his work, the girls had left their spying post. Daniel had opted to take Sophia’s horse to the cabin. She’d named the animal Tilly, and while she showed she could have an attitude, she was also sweet. No, it wasn’t an attitude. She was spirited.
After he got her all settled down in the lean-to, he headed for the cabin. The building was cold without the fire going during the day, and that was the first thing he planned on remedying.
He started a small fire, then stood back and watched the flames flicker. The light danced throughout the dim room, warming his body after he’d cooled on his ride back.
His stomach growled, prompting him to glance over at the kitchen. Daniel couldn’t recall the last time he’d fixed his own meal. Charlie was the cook at home, and since she was the youngest, he hadn’t had to worry about her moving out and feeding her husband.
That’d change here real soon.
While he wasn’t concerned about warming up a can of chili or fixing himself sandwiches for the next week, it was eating alone that seemed to bother him most.
Today, he’d avoided that very thing by skipping lunch. Now, he was regretting it.
Daniel moved toward the small kitchen and opened the fridge. Unfortunately, it wasn’t filled like he’d expected. Last night he’d been too tired and distracted by Aria to look around. It had been a mistake to assume there was food readily available.
Hadn’t Sophia said she’d have food for him?
They were probably too distracted to make sure the fridge was stocked. It wasn’t their fault. He’d just have to head out to the store tomorrow.
The cupboards were also mostly empty—except for a couple cans of food. Corned beef hash and green beans. If he’d been anyone else, he might have wrinkled his nose at his options. But with his upbringing, he’d eaten things no child should have had to try.
He pulled the cans from the cupboard and placed them on the counter. Then he started hunting around for the can opener. Two drawers down, and there was a knock at the door, putting a stop to his hunt.
Daniel straightened from where he was digging into a drawer full of large utensils. His gaze turned to the door. After finding Aria in the cabin last night, he’d made sure to lock the door behind him. It wasn’t that he thought she’d break in—or perhaps there was a part of him that wondered if she might.
He sent one more glance in the direction of the open drawer, not seeing a can opener in the jumbled mess. There were other ways to open canned food. He’d use the pocketknife he had in his truck if he had to.
Daniel ran a hand back and forward over the top of his head, mussing his hair as he moved toward the door. He didn’t bother looking through the spy hole. His rifle still rested against the wall beside the door. And intruders didn’t typically knock.
The locks clicked and he turned the knob, but before he could pull it open all the way, the door was shoved into his chest. He took a startled step backward, and then his gaze locked with her .
Aria flashed him that fake smile she constantly wore.
So incredibly fake.
His eyes narrowed as he took in the fact that she hadn’t come empty-handed. Aside from the fact that she’d probably walked this whole way carrying the brown paper bags in her arms, she’d arrived unannounced—neither fact was something he was terribly thrilled about.
Daniel folded his arms. “Did you forget something?”
She let out a laugh.
Also fake .
“Do I need a reason to swing by and visit with my friend?”
At his confused stare, she laughed again. At least this one sounded more genuine.
Then Aria shoved the large brown paper bags into his arms. “I heard you need food.” She kicked the door shut behind her and moved toward the kitchen. Two steps, and she tossed him an impatient look. “Are you coming?”
He didn’t know what it was that prompted him to follow her except perhaps a deep-seated curiosity. “You brought me groceries?”
“No, of course not,” she smirked. “I brought stuff to make dinner.”
Daniel stiffened. “With all due respect, I don’t need you cooking for me.”
She scoffed. “What? Afraid I might poison you?” Aria spun to face him, her hands on her hips. Then she jutted her chin to the cabin in general. “Why would I do that? To lay my claim on this place again? Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I’m not that attached.”
Sweetheart?
He shook his head. “No,” he stammered. “Because I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“Just like I was more than capable of taking my luggage back to the main house.”
He let out a groan and shoved the bags on the counter. “So, this is some strange way to get back at me for being a gentleman?”
Aria eyed him, and he got the distinct feeling that she wanted to argue with him. She didn’t. Instead, that mask came over her face again and she reached for the paper bags. “You’ll be thrilled to know that it wasn’t my idea. Sophia sent me.”
Daniel relaxed as much as his shoulders allowed. “Of course she did.”
She glanced at him again, and for the briefest second, he thought he caught sight of who Aria really was. The vulnerable side of her she refused to let anyone see. But then she recovered, and all he saw was that fake facade she seemed intent on retaining.
Aria removed fresh tomatoes, lettuce, and other vegetables from the bag and placed them on the counter. Then she paused and arched a brow. “Okay, handsome, I know you didn’t get all those rippling muscles by eating expired hash and green beans.”
Handsome . Another sarcastic compliment.
He worked his jaw, his focus shifting to the cans. “They’re not expired.”
She snickered. “They are. And I know what you’re going to ask. How do I know without looking at them closer?” She pointed the top of the can toward him. “Because I lived here all summer.”
Sure enough, they’d expired last year. How had he not noticed?
She chuckled—this one sounding more genuine than the others. “I probably should have tossed them out, but I didn’t spend much time in the kitchen here.”
He nearly asked her why, but he kept his mouth shut. Somehow, he got the feeling that she wouldn’t be sharing anything about herself with him. And if she did, she might be lying anyway.
Aria busied herself with getting all the tools she needed to cook up some enchiladas while he watched from across the room. He didn’t feel comfortable sharing such a small space with her when he knew he couldn’t trust her.
It didn’t stop her from prattling on about her cousins and how she still couldn’t get used to the chill in the air. He almost told her she might want to leave now before it started to snow, but again, he preferred to remain aloof.
Eventually, after she finished making dinner, they settled on the couch to eat off the plates on their laps.
Aria swallowed a bite she’d placed in her mouth and pointed at the architecture book on the coffee table. “You interested in buildings?”
He took his first bite, and a burst of flavor hit his senses with a vengeance. The food tasted so incredibly good that he wasn’t sure if he should moan and savor it or take another bite before the flavor disappeared.
“Earth to Daniel.” Aria waved her fork in his face, and his eyes focused again. She smirked. “Buildings. You like them?”
His gaze drifted toward the book, and he nodded.
She thinned her lips, her gaze slowly drifting to the book. A corner of a piece of paper stuck out at an odd angle and she plucked it from the book.
He didn’t have to lean forward to see what she’d found. He’d sketched the picture a couple days ago. It was a modest house that combined several aspects of his favorite types of architecture throughout the last century.
Her whistle was soft—almost awe-like. “You drew this?”
Daniel grunted, taking another bite of the food she’d prepared.
She rolled her eyes. “Quite the conversationalist, aren’t you?”
He shrugged.
Aria’s cheeks colored while her eyes flashed with irritation. “Normally when a girl cooks for a guy, she’s earned a decent conversation.” Her tone was light, and if Daniel hadn’t already gotten wise to her, he might have assumed she was being flirtatious in the way she demanded his attention. Unfortunately for Aria, he saw right through her.
Daniel shrugged again.
She rolled her eyes. “No comment? Really?”
“Maybe I prefer my privacy.”
“Of course you do.” Her smile did nothing to put him at ease. Nor did the way her gaze swept over him almost hungrily.
Wait, maybe he was seeing things.
Aria destroyed that line of thinking the second she reached over and caressed his forearm with her fingertip. She trailed it upward until she dragged it along his chest. Her voice grew sickly sweet and soft. “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot?—”
His fork clattered to his plate, and he snatched her wrist to pull her finger away from him, hating the way it seemed to electrify him from the inside out. Why did he get the feeling she was testing him?
Probably the disbelief that flickered in her eyes. It wasn’t irritation like before. It was something entirely different. Surprise? Longing? No, it was something else or maybe a combination of several things.
Then her eyes narrowed, and she tugged on her hand.
He released her wrist like she’d burned him and got to his feet. “I think you should go.” His voice was low, like hers had been. “Thank you for supper.”
She blinked up at him with her large eyes framed by long, thick lashes. Then she nodded. Aria made it to the door before he remembered she’d likely walked.
“I’ll drive you?—”
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” She winked at him, reaching for the doorknob. “I could use the walk.”
This time she didn’t give him a chance to force her hand before she shut the door and disappeared into the evening.