Betting on Grace (10 page)

That was one of the things she loved about Lane. He
was always smiling, always optimistic, and always playful. Sometimes to the
point of irritation, but she loved him all the more for it.

Since she’d heard about Grant’s pissy attitude, and
his need to hide out in Cody’s shop, from more than one person that day, she
knew that Lane had already worked his magic, apparently in the shower.

With a towel still wrapped firmly around his waist,
one hand gripping it tightly, Grant padded across the room to the kitchen table
and retrieved the last of the foam boxes of food and a plastic fork. When he
returned to the living room, he looked down at her.

Grace merely smiled up at him.

Yes, she knew she was in his chair.

She also knew that if he wanted her to move, he was
going to have to make her. She made sure that her smile told him as much.

“Aww, hell,” Lane added, “she’s in rare form tonight.”

Grant laughed; it was a little strained, but as far as
Grace was concerned, it counted.

“You can sit with me,” she told him sweetly. “But
you’ve gotta drop the towel first.”

Grant’s ocean-blue eyes flared big and bright, making
Grace’s girl parts stand up and dance. It went without saying that she longed
for these moments when they could spend time together. And no, she didn’t even
care if they were naked or not — although she would take naked anytime they
offered because, Lord have mercy, they were the hottest cowboys in Texas, and
what red-blooded woman
wouldn’t
want to ogle them every chance she got?

“That right?” Grant’s voice was rough and low, causing
a gentle hum to start in Grace’s core.

“Yes, sir,” she teased, scooting over to one side of
the chair, leaving hardly enough room for half a person, much less a big man
like Grant. But it was worth it just for the expression on his face.

“Damn, man,” Lane grumbled. “Don’t you know that
stalling ain’t the right way to treat a lady?”

Grant spared Lane a look but then returned his eyes to
her.

“I’ll lose the towel if you lose the shirt.”

Playful. She liked that.

“Fine,” she said unflinchingly, holding her container
up for him to take. When he retrieved it from her hands, she deftly unhooked
the buttons on her sleeveless blouse and then slid the cotton down her arms,
leaving it to pool on the chair behind her. “That better?”

“Lose the bra while you’re at it,” Lane stated around
a mouthful of food.

Grace laughed but did as he suggested. Only because
she didn’t want the mood to change, and seeing Grant, she knew he was hovering
on the edge of that bad mood he’d been in for the last few days. She’d do
anything to keep a smile on his face, including an impromptu striptease in the
middle of his living room.

Her intentions had actually been good coming over
here. In the back of her mind, she had anticipated a little hanky-panky, maybe
not to this degree, but she couldn’t lie, it was certainly on her agenda. Although,
she did intend to talk to him later, but hopefully, if she was lucky, they’d
all be in bed at that point, and between her and Lane, they could keep Grant
from running away.

Until then…

“Fuck,” Lane whispered, and Grace could feel the heat
of his gaze on her now-naked breasts. “What the hell. You might as well make it
an even playing field,” Lane added. “Take it all off.”

With her eyes still locked with Grant’s, Grace did as
Lane suggested. She stood, toed off her boots, and then peeled her jeans and
panties down her legs, stepping one foot out of them. Before she could get them
completely off her ankles, Grant hurled himself into the chair, both containers
of food still in his hand and a grin the size of Texas on his face.

“Now you can sit on my lap,” Grant informed her.

Grace reached for her food as though it was normal for
her to be naked in the living room with two smoldering-hot cowboys. Pretending
that it didn’t affect her half as much as it really did, she situated herself
on Grant’s lap, purposely shifting so that his semi-hard cock was nestled at
the juncture of her thighs.

“That better?” she asked audaciously, looking over her
shoulder at him.

Grant’s response was nothing more than a grunt, which
made her laugh.

For the next few minutes, Grace did her best to eat.
The only reason she managed was because she was starving, and she knew if she
was going to keep up with these two, she needed all the nourishment she could
get.

Mercy made her way into the dining room after managing
to circumvent Hope to the best of her abilities. It wasn’t easy, mind you. When
Hope wanted to talk about something, that woman was as aggressive as Budweiser
with a bone.

Too bad Mercy wasn’t in the mood to chat.

At least not with Hope. Or rather, at least not about
work.

As for anyone else, more power to them. If they were
brave enough…

“Hey, Merce, how’s it goin’?” Jennifer Brathow called
as Mercy stepped into the short line at the table piled high with food. As late
as it was, she was just surprised there was still food left at all.

“It’s goin’, Jenn,” Mercy answered, pasting on a
glowing smile.

Jennifer was one of the newest members of the staff at
Dead Heat Ranch, and the woman seemed to be coming into her own just in the few
short months that she’d been with them. In fact, hiring Jennifer, and her
ensuing employment, had been one of the hottest topics of conversation for as
long as Mercy could remember.

It had nothing to do with how pretty Jenn was, or how
smoking-hot her body was, or how well she filled out a pair of jeans, either —
which was usually the conversation hot point where the wranglers were
concerned. Not to mention, no one seemed to care that the woman was oddly young
for the position she filled after Grace had fired their last cook for being
lazy, but at twenty-four years old, the woman clearly knew what she was doing.

Nope, aside from being pretty, with her short auburn
hair, sparkling ice-green eyes, and a complexion that would make even the most
flawless cover model envious, Jennifer had an advantage over the last pretty
girl who’d been hired at the ranch because Jenn knew how to cook. And as Mercy
had learned, the fastest way to a wrangler’s heart was definitely through his
stomach.

She had no idea how Jennifer did it, but the woman even
managed to get the staff to eat healthier, without them knowing it. According
to Dead Heat Ranch’s new head chef, the garden she was cultivating in a newly
sectioned-off area near the main house was going to make coming up with meals
considerably easier as well. And cheaper, something Faith loved about the
woman.

And yes, Mercy had informed Jennifer from the
beginning that she had to make her efforts as transparent as possible because
the men loved their southern food more than they loved their wives and
girlfriends. Okay, maybe not entirely, but damn close.

Jennifer had been a good sport about it all, taking
every suggestion Mercy offered in stride, and now she fit in as though she’d
been part of the family all of her life.

Since part of Mercy’s job was to ensure that the
kitchen ran flawlessly, she’d been spending quite a bit of time with Jennifer
and the few wranglers that Jenn had claimed as her permanent kitchen help. No
longer was the kitchen a place people rotated in and out of, and surprisingly no
one seemed to have a problem with that.

Oh, and everyone — a lot of stress on
every
and
one
— was enthralled with the red-headed, green-eyed little boy who was
part of a package deal where Jennifer, single mother of one, was concerned.
Joey Brathow, the four-year-old ray of sunshine that had descended on Dead Heat
Ranch when they had hired his mother, kept everyone on their toes.

“How’s your little one?” Mercy asked as she grabbed a
cornbread muffin and one of the small foil squares containing butter. Every
time she saw one of those things, she thought about the story her father told
about how Mercy had munched on them when she was little. Usually without bread.

Yuck.

Thank God she’d grown up, at least when it came to her
preferences in food. As for everything else, well, she was doing her best not
to grow up at all. Or so she was told.

“He’s better, thanks. I took him to the doctor, and
just like Zach thought, it’s just a cold, but boy, he scared me there for a
coupla days. Thank you so much for helpin’ out and watchin’ him.”

Yes, Zachary McCallum, their resident medic and
overall jack-of-all-trades, had become quite fascinated by the single mom ever
since she’d arrived. Not that Zach would admit to it being anything other than
business as usual. But Mercy wasn’t blind; she saw the way the handsome cowboy
looked at Jennifer.

Mercy nodded. “No problem. Glad I could help.”
Lowering her voice for effect, she tacked on, “Just don’t let that get around.
People ’round here’ll start thinkin’ I’m nice or somethin’. You’ll ruin my
rep.”

Jennifer giggled, passing a dish of apple cobbler
toward Mercy, which she snatched gratefully.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Jennifer said with a
cheery smile. “Hey, I heard a rumor today.”

“Which one did you hear this time?” There were plenty
of rumors running around the ranch. Some of them Mercy had started herself, and
she wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“I heard that you’re gonna race your dad this Sunday.”

“Not a rumor,” Mercy replied. Although she didn’t add
the other little secret she was keeping up her sleeve.

Jennifer laughed, a hearty sound that had several
people looking their way.

“I heard they’re takin’ bets on who’s gonna win.”

“If you’re smart, you’ll bet on Grace,” Mercy mumbled
under her breath as she walked away. With a smile, Mercy tacked on, “Talk to
you later,” loud enough for Jenn to hear.

Grabbing her food, Mercy headed toward one of the
tables in the back. She noticed Trinity sitting alone, and since she was never
one to let an opportunity to harass one of her sisters pass her by, she changed
her trajectory.

“Oh, heavens, what are you up to?” Trin asked as Mercy
approached, smiling back at her.

“You know me. Trouble is always on my agenda.”

“Do you know how true that is, Merce?”

Mercy laughed. Yes, yes, she did. That was her purpose
in life, stirring up trouble and keeping people on their toes.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked before taking a seat,
not bothering to wait for Trinity to answer.

That earned her a resounding laugh from her sister.

And, yes, Trin was one of those women who drew men’s
attention with her throaty chuckle, too. Something Mercy had never perfected.
Nor did she have the desire to, thank you very much.

Although Mercy and her four sisters had the same basic
features overall, blond hair, turquoise eyes, and petite frames — thin thanks
to the grueling work they did on a daily basis — Trinity was by far the
prettiest of them all. And that was saying something because Mercy thought all
of her sisters were beautiful, even if she liked to tease them ruthlessly
otherwise. With Trin’s heart-shaped face, pouty lips, and an overall sweet
innocence that was, unfortunately, not faked, the woman made men practically
melt at her feet with just a smile. Yep, Mercy had seen plenty of them fall,
and she loved giving Trin a hard time about it, too.

“You seen Hope?” Trinity asked in a mock whisper.

“Nope. And that was how I planned it, too. You?”

“No. I hid out in the stable with Dixie and the pups
until I heard she went home.”

“Do you know what she wants?” Mercy asked, curious as
to why her oldest sister was stirring up a hornet’s nest at the ranch, hunting
down people as though the world were going to end tomorrow.

“Somethin’ about Dad’s birthday,” Trinity answered.

“Shit.”

“Exactly. She’s plannin’ a big ol’ party, two weeks
from now. Everyone’s supposed to pitch in to help.”

“On top of that, we’re probably supposed to keep it a
secret from him, too, huh?”

“Yep. It’s never easy.”

That was the damn truth. Their father wasn’t the
easiest man to pull one over on. Mercy would know because she’d spent the
better part of the last twenty-six years of her life trying to do just that.

“Speak of the devil,” Trinity said with a smile in her
voice.

Mercy looked up in time to see their father making his
way through the scattered tables. He’d apparently set his radar and managed to
seek at least the two of them out. She had no idea where Faith or Hope was, but
she considered them fortunate. As for Gracie, Mercy happened to know that her
sister was probably getting flanked by two hot cowboys. Lucky girl.

Forking food into her mouth to keep from having to
talk, Mercy pretended not to notice when their father stepped up to the table.
Not that ignoring a six-foot-two, barrel-chested man like her father was all
that easy. As was his usual greeting, he flipped the end of her ponytail and
then tugged gently. “Avoidin’ me, girlie?” Jerry asked with a rumbling laugh.

“Always, Pop. You know me,” Mercy answered honestly,
although she inserted a hint of sarcasm just to throw him off. Still chewing
her food, she peeked up at him. “I figured you’d be takin’ a refresher course
on how to ride a horse.”

Her father smiled down at her, and Mercy couldn’t look
away. Something was different about her father lately, and because it had been
a change she’d noticed for weeks now, she was pretty sure it didn’t have a lot
to do with the race that they had planned for Sunday. Whatever it was, it
looked good on him.

“Be careful, girlie. I wouldn’t want you to be too
embarrassed when I make you cry.”

“Not a chance, old man,” Mercy replied, laughing.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, reaching down to steal
her cornbread off her plate. Mercy managed to snag it before he could.

“Gotta be faster than that, old man,” Mercy teased.

“Hey, kiddo,” Jerry said to Trinity, leaning over and
kissing her on the forehead. “How’re you?”

“Not too bad,” Trinity stated gravely. “I managed to
steer clear of Hope, avoid Faith when she wanted to talk numbers, and shut down
the store without any help from anyone else.”

Crap. Mercy knew a complaint when she heard one.

Dead Heat Ranch was a working dude ranch. It was also
filled to capacity with tourists these days, and because of this, they had
their own little general store. At any given time of any given day, the place
was usually swarming with people interested in stocking up on food for their
visit to the ranch or sifting through the numerous trinkets they sold as
souvenirs. For the last few years, Trinity had appointed herself the keeper of
the store. Only recently had they had a difficult time retaining extra help,
mainly because the summer months were hell on the employees. Working on a ranch
wasn’t a job for sissies, but Mercy would be the first to admit that half the
time they hired kids who only thought they knew what work was.

“What happened to that last girl we hired?” Jerry
asked, dropping into a chair between them. He was eyeing Mercy’s food longingly.

“Don’t even think about it, Pops,” she muttered as she
shielded her plate from his penetrating gaze.

“That kid didn’t last two hours,” Trinity explained.
“I’m pretty sure she applied for a job to be close to her boyfriend. When she
realized she’d actually have to work for a livin’, she bolted outta there.”

“I’ll see what I can do about gettin’ someone to help
you,” Jerry told her.

“I know someone,” Mercy suggested, grinning as she
stared down at her food, her devious side coming out in spades.

“Don’t you dare,” Trinity threatened before Mercy said
a word, but that only spurred Mercy on. She loved to get her sisters riled up.
It was the highlight of her day.

“Who?” Jerry asked curiously, his gaze traveling back
and forth between Mercy and Trinity.

“Dallas,” Mercy answered, not bothering to look at her
sister. She could pretty much hear the steam coming out of Trinity’s ears.

“Dallas Caldwell?” Jerry asked incredulously, his gaze
flipping back and forth between them.

“No!” Trinity exclaimed at the same time Mercy said,
“Yep.”

With a shit-eating grin, Mercy continued, “Things are
a little slow with the cattle. They can’t be moved yet, and he’s been fillin’
in wherever he’s needed. I think he’d be perfect to help Trin out. After all,
he was the one who led the crew when they renovated the place last month.”

Not to mention, Dallas Caldwell had a serious hard-on
for Trinity. Ever since Dallas had damn near killed that bastard Garrett
Daniels because he’d hurt Trinity, Mercy had been rooting for him and Trin.
Strange how all of that had gone down, but ever since then, Jerry had been
rather fond of Dallas, as well.

However, Trin did her best impersonation of a woman
who wasn’t interested, which Mercy knew was just an act. So, getting Trinity
and Dallas in the same room always made for some incredible fireworks, and the
last thing Mercy wanted was for things to start getting stale around the ranch.

Mercy added a mental checkmark to her good-deed list —
get Trin and Dallas together. Another point in her favor.

“I’ll talk to him,” Jerry said, seemingly ignorant to
Trinity’s fiery expression. Pushing back from the table, Jerry rose to his
feet. “In the meantime, I’m gonna head over and talk to Grant.”