Chapter 15
Ava
Everything was fine until Eli showed up in that darn swimsuit! Curses to the pizza delivery driver who called in sick!
Why couldn’t I just enjoy the simple pleasantries of sharing a meal?
Being around Eli felt natural, and he was great with Nina, all the makings of a solid friendship.
Except my thoughts circled like a vulture around a certain somebody’s bare chest as he dove into the pool in his Walmart swim trunks, the ones he purchased while picking up our pizza yesterday.
No one should look that appetizing in clearance board shorts.
His playfulness, that subtle “V” made by a shameful amount of abdominal definition!
I was the worst widow, fantasizing about Eli shirtless when I still owed my husband a ranch!
“What are you doing?”
The question caught me off guard, and I spun on my pile of horse manure to find Eli approaching the corral with a strange look. Instinct took over. “What’s wrong? Does Nina need me?”
He stopped at the edge of Royal’s stall and rested his elbows on the horizontal bars. The dark Tennessee Walker, whose home I was cleaning, kept to his opposite corner, his tail swishing to starve off flies. “No, she’s fine. Dad’s teaching her poker. Are you mucking?”
“Yeah, why?”
Seriously! How could a human look so delicious leaning against a fence? It didn’t seem to matter that this time he was fully clothed. I was probably just deficient in something. Even a gas station hot dog looked good if you were hungry enough.
Not that Eli was a hot dog.
He adjusted his hat. “I figured you’d be getting ready for your interview.”
“Last night, didn’t you say Luke was sick?”
Fess up, Ava. He was hot. Hot when moving boxes. Hot when eating pizza. Downright blazing, dripping in pool water under a setting sun. Hot and off-limits.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Probably Steven from yet another number. I sighed, fixing my grip on the rake, and returned to my self-ordained task. In a month, Eli’d be gone anyway, and I’d be elbow deep in ranch renovations. Hopefully.
“Yeah, but it’s almost eight,” he pointed out.
“And?”
“Isn’t your interview at nine?”
“No. They pushed it to ten.”
“Well, don’t you need to prep, or primp, or whatever?”
My eyes slid back to his. “Primp?”
“O-or whatever?” Pink tinted his ears. It was enough to make a sentimental girl ovulate.
Maybe I was. Ovulating. “What, you don’t think I should roll in all sweaty and covered in horsehair?” Color bled into his cheeks and neck.
In reality, I should’ve been at the apartment unpacking or following up with Terry. Instead, I was … what was I doing? My phone went off again. I forced my eyes back to the mud and scraped the soiled stall with extra fervor.
“Someone’s calling you,” Eli said unnecessarily. “Is it him? Mr. Mercedes?”
“Probably.”
“You gonna block him?”
Steven’s persistence used to be an endearing trait. Now I just found it annoying. “When I’m done.”
Eli pursed his lips, then ducked through the bars and strode right at me, his broody aura giving him an appeal that must’ve made old western film stars popular. Giddy-up cowboy.
His t-shirt grazed my arm as he stopped only inches away, heat radiating through the thin cotton, his pulse vibrating the air around us. I was trying to do the right thing, swear to God. Could he feel how hard my heart thumped? Would he believe me if I blamed the mucking?
“Give me your phone.” He had his own in-hand, thumbing up the voice memo app.
“Why?”
“Because I think you should report Mr. Mercedes for harassment, and I’m gonna help you get proof.”
Ah. He planned to record Steven’s voice. Which I would’ve figured out all on my own if I wasn’t so … distracted. “It’s fine. He’s just being a pest. I can deal with pests.”
“Yeah? And when the whole swarm follows?”
“We’re talking about a human. He’s one man. Not a colony of wasps.”
“I think you’re underestimating him.”
I sighed at Eli’s serious expression, then reluctantly handed over my phone. He frowned at the missed-call screen, but I assured him Steven would call again.
Who knew an exhale could sound angry? “Next time, could you try not arguing with me?”
My hackles rose. “Hey! I didn’t ask for help. Not that it’s your business, but I refuse to let Steven dictate my schedule by dropping everything to field his calls.”
“I’m not saying you do that, I’m just saying, let’s be smart and–”
“Let’s?” When did this become a “we” thing?
“No. This isn’t your fight, Eli. And I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of it.
” I snagged my cell from his grip, shoved it back in my pocket, and turned on my heels to bob through the horizontal railings.
Was he right? Maybe. But hell if I wanted him to swoop in and fix things!
I needed to prove I could do this on my own.
Otherwise, how the heck would I run an entire ranch by myself?
When I returned with a wheelbarrow, Eli held the stall gate open, forcing me to pass him. The zest of his deodorant tickled my nose, not unpleasantly. I held my breath, but he trailed me right into my pile of manure. Back to inches apart. Seriously?
What’s a girl gotta do? “I can finish this on my own, thanks.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket again. This time, he didn’t comment. Only stared at our feet, letting the seconds tick by. Judging by the twitch in his jaw, it was a struggle.
“Thank you.”
He accepted my truce with a bashful, one-sided lip lift that very nearly resembled a smolder. “You’re welcome.”
Lord help me.
“Hey, I was thinking,” he said, performing his signature move–running his fingers through his hair and re-adjusting his hat.
He hesitated so long I’d have checked my watch if I had one.
I didn’t primp, but neither did my plan include going to my interview smelling like a three-day-old shirt.
A smell that apparently offered no discouragement on his part.
Finally, I gave him a little push. “You were thinking?”
“I know Luke can be … challenging,” he said. At my drawn brow, he rushed on, “And I’m sure he’ll get over his whole ‘Yuppy Horse Lady’ thing.”
“Y-Yuppy Horse Lady?”
“His words,” Eli defended, casting me a glance. “He’s a quick learner, and he’s reliable. He just gets defensive.”
I was feeling a little defensive myself. “Eli, where are you going with this?”
He planted his hands on his hips and blew a lungful of air at our feet. “He needs some training. And I’m not a rancher. Dad doesn’t have the patience, so I was kinda hoping ...” he met my gaze again, letting his meaning hang, unspoken.
“You were hoping he’d listen to Yuppy Horse Lady?”
My eyes fell on the hollow of his cheek as he chewed on his next words. “The kid needs a thing.”
“A thing?”
“You know, something he’s good at, that he can do even on the crappy days. To lift him up when he’s feeling low–so he doesn’t make bad choices.”
I nodded in understanding. “A thing.”
Concerned creased Eli’s forehead under the bill of his cap; a layer I’d not seen before, and it made me wonder, what’s Eli’s thing? “I want to help,” I said, hefting a healthy scoop of manure into the wheelbarrow. “But Luke doesn’t like me. I think he’ll respond better to you.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know about the oats.”
“And now you do. Imagine what else you’ll learn by summer’s end.” I gave him a playful wink to soften my rejection, realizing too late how flirty it came off. Luckily, Eli’s cell started ringing before he could respond.
He checked the screen, then brought it to his ear. “Dad? Did you mean to call me?” A pause. “No. We’re at the stable. Just come out. What?” His eyes narrowed and sought mine. Something passed through them. Anger? Defiance?
I tilted my head in question, and he turned away.
“No. Just–” he spun, surveying the grounds. “I’ll be right there.” To me, he said, “Ava, do me a favor? Go into the tack room to check the horse blankets for rips?”
“What?”
“Wait there till I get back.” He didn’t elaborate, just turned and strode purposefully toward the house.
Horse blankets? What just happened?
I complied, but only because it couldn’t have been about Nina, or Bill would have called me. This was their ranch, after all. I was only a guest.
Nearly thirty minutes later, Eli stormed into the makeshift storeroom, a large ring of keys jingling from his hand and an expression made of steel and fury.
I’d sifted through the stack of wool, all solid and tear-free, then organized the leads and bridles, putting the nicest ones in the front.
I got the distinct impression he noticed none of that.
“We’ve been leaving the gate open,” he said without preamble. “That’s going to change.” He pulled a key off the ring and held it out, halting a full two feet from where I stood.
Alarm crawled up my spine. “Why? What’s going on?”
He studied me, his lips locked.
“Eli?”
“Doesn’t matter. You gonna take this?”
I edged my hand out, and he pressed the laser-cut metal into my open palm. They didn’t have a ranch sign to graffiti or a water tower to shoot at. No clues stood out in his appearance. “What happened? Is your dad okay?”
“He’s fine. Don’t lose that.”
I curled my fingers around the key and sank it into my pocket. He may as well have said, “Not your business.” And how could I complain? I’d argued the same point. “Okay. Thank you. Am I allowed to go now? I do have an interview to primp for.”
The hardened edges of Eli’s face faded as a smile snuck in. “Thought you said you didn’t do that.”
“Well, I need a shower at least. I’m sure I stink.”
He stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and tilted his nose to my hair. “Nah. You smell good.”
My words strayed off somewhere in the interlinking channels of my brain. He offered no tension-breaking chuckle. Just those intense burnt-caramel eyes on me. It would never work. We were opposites. I hustled, he played. I wanted roots; he’d never stay.
“You and Bill are good with Nina?”
“Yup, they’re having breakfast.”
“Another one?” Nina must be gearing up for a growth spurt. Or maybe I wasn’t feeding her enough?