Montana Cowboy (Big Sky Mavericks Book 2) (12 page)

She took off her hat and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her sleeve. She looked hot. He could fix that. "Are you busy right now? I have to go play lifeguard at Paul's for a couple of hours. I'd love some help with my nieces and nephews." She looked tempted. "These kids might give you some inside scoop on Marietta schools... well, Paul's kids, at least." Emilee and Hunter would be starting soon, and neither was the least bit excited by the prospect.

Serena looked over her shoulder. "Sounds lovely, but I have Skipper."

"No, problem. Stuart, my foreman, can get one of the hands to lead him home. The guard llamas won't attack, will they?"

Her laughter made him feel ridiculously hopeful.

"They're in a different pasture. But I don't have a suit."

He stepped closer. Close enough to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Her initial surprise gave way to hunger. He loved that despite being pissed off at him, she wanted him, too. They kissed until they reached the "all in" point.

Panting slightly, hot now from the inside out, he said, "I hope to heck Paul turned off the pool heater. We'll swing by your place on the way to town."

"Okay. But this doesn't mean I'm not still upset with you."

"Got it. We can discuss my penance after we cool down."

H
alf an hour later, Serena followed Austen toward the side gate of his brother's beautiful Prairie-style home located on Bramble Lane—one of her favorite streets in Marietta. She hadn't had a lot of time to explore her new town, but what she'd seen of it had left an indelible impression. This was exactly the kind of town she could call home.

Austen hadn't given her a chance to re-think her impulsive decision to join him. The day was one of the hottest she'd experienced so far. She'd been sweating by the time she reached his house, plus she'd been working non-stop practically since she moved in. The idea of spending a few hours luxuriating in a private pool—with four teenage chaperones seemed like a no-brainer.

She simply hadn't thought through the part about hanging in close proximity to Austen Zabrinski in Hawaiian print board shorts and a tank top. That unexpected, un-planned kiss he'd planted on her had nearly pushed her over the heat index into meltdown.

Sharing the front seat of his BMW convertible was another variable she hadn't counted on. The sun on the tops of her bare legs, the hot wind, the sexy way his hair glinted in the sunlight tempted her to pull him into her house for a quickie. Luckily, his mother texted: "Coming?"

He'd shown her his phone. She'd dashed to her bedroom to change so he wouldn't see her blush. The question definitely had another meaning where she and Austin were concerned.

"Your brother's home is really nice," she said, waiting as he fiddled with the lock. Smart, she thought, admiring the lock's placement. Too high for a non-swimmer to open without an adult's help.

"Little brother's done well for himself."

She couldn't decide if his tone signified praise or envy.

"You've done pretty well, too. That's the first Beamer I've ever ridden in." And his Range Rover was high end, too.

He opened the gate. "It was a toy that went with my image. Doesn't really fit around here."

Did that mean he wasn't planning on going back to his life in Helena? His sister seemed to think it was only a matter of time before boredom got the better of him.

He took her hand and led her to the spectacularly landscaped backyard. The pool had a retractable dome. At the moment, it was open wide and the blue sky sparkled like a million or so diamonds dancing on the water.

"Wow. This is great. Where are the kids?"

"On their way. Mom took the girls shopping for school clothes in Livingston. Dad took the boys fishing."

"Where are their parents?"

"Well, Mia, obviously, was busy sticking her nose into my business, but aside from that Mom said she had some paperwork to file to reactivate her license in Montana. She's been practicing law in Wyoming for the past nine years. Paul is at Big Z's. As usual."

She wondered about the slightly snide tone but didn't comment. She liked her new landlord and she liked the ranch. In some ways, it suited her needs better than the place she'd tried to buy. She didn't know what ranch property was going for around here, but, if the price was right and Paul had any desire to sell, Serena might be interested.

They stowed their bags in the shade, under an artfully designed trellis, and spread their towels over two cushioned chaise lounges.

"Can I get you something to drink? Water? A beer?"

"I'm good for now, thanks."

They stood a moment, caught in an awkward social blip—two polite people who had sex together and liked it, but now didn't have a clue about how to function together in the real world. Serena no longer knew for sure if she was mad about him telling his family about her or upset because he hadn't rushed back to see her this week?

She walked to the deep end and sat, her legs dangling in the water, brisk enough to remind her of summers at Lake Shasta.

Austin joined her a moment later, a can of lite beer in his hand. She couldn't prevent her eyebrow from lifting in a judgmental way. "Lite beer? You're more of a cowboy than I thought. That's the same brand the cowboys back home drink."

He didn't look offended. "It's all Paul has in the outdoor fridge."

He took a pull, his chin tilted back so she could watch the masculine way his Adam's apple lifted and fell. She swallowed reflexively.

"Listen," he said, his dark glasses obscuring their eye contact. "For the record, I have no intention of running for District Attorney. I studied corporate law so I wouldn't have to get in the trenches with murderers and thieves. That's my sister's thing. I thought I preferred white-collar felons, but, honestly, after dealing with the greed and backstabbing of politics, I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Aren't you too young for a mid-life crisis?"

His lips slanted to the side in a way she'd come to realize meant he was amused. She'd liked his sense of humor from the moment they met. The ability to laugh at oneself was sexy. "Probably, but that happens all the time in politics. One day you're the media darling. The next you've reached mass murderer fame and you didn't even kill anybody."

"I would hate that. I'm quite content to stay off everybody's radar."

"But you wrote a blog."

She kicked the water a little harder. "True. I'm not a terribly patient person. I got fed up with people asking me about my birth mother. I decided I was ready to share my thoughts on the subject, but I didn't use my real name or my picture. My mistake was using Jezebel’s photo that I got from the breeder. At the time, I didn't know photos came with a digital footprint, so to speak. And I didn't know Jezzy's previous owner was a gabby woman with no concept of privacy."

"Like the people in my family, you mean?" He didn't let her answer, but quickly added, "I really do apologize if I shared too much. Families are jinxes when it comes to relationships."

She didn't disagree. The last time she told her brother about a guy she was seeing, the relationship fell apart a week later.

"So... let's discuss the R-word." She'd always been the pull-the-bandage-off-quick kind of girl. "Relationship." She said it slowly and clear so there'd be no mistake.

He nearly choked on his gulp of beer. "O-okay."

"We went on one date and we wound up spending the night together. That doesn't normally happen with me—in case you were wondering. My last boyfriend and I knew each other for six months before we had sex."

"Was it good?"

"So-so. But that's only one of the reasons we're not together any more. He also didn't get how important my animals are to me. He found my
hobby
"—she made air quotes—"interesting, but a major time suck. He was right about the time, but wrong about the hobby. The animals are my passion and I hope to make them a significant part of my income when my breeding program takes off. I don't begrudge the mess or the smell because I love the silly beasts. And most men don't get it. Honestly, they think I'm weird."

"They do smell."

"I know."

"But they are kind of cute. Unlike cows."

"I agree."

"So what you're saying is..."

"Love me, love my 'pacas." Her face went red. "Not that I expect you to love me after one date—"

"And one night together."

"And one night together. But you get my point."

"Does this constitute another date?"

"I don't know. Does it?"

He didn't get a chance to answer because two boys, one tall and thin, one shorter and stouter, rushed from the patio door of the house, shrieking for all their worth. "Yee-haw! Here we come."

One sister followed, laughing with a carefree joy Serena remembered from her childhood. A tall, slender waif dressed in black hung back until a woman who looked like an older version of Mia put an arm around her shoulders and escorted her outside.

Serena remembered a similar period in her life—when her parents sent her and Peyton to public school for the first time. She'd gone Goth before there was such a thing. She'd been under the mistaken impression black didn't stand out. Eventually, she made friends, found her own style, and learned it never paid to apologize for who you are.

Austen stood, offering her a hand. "I'd better go check in with Mom. She looks full of questions. Wanna come?"

She whipped off her cover-up instead. "Sorry, buddy. You're on your own. I'm here to swim." Then she launched forward to slip into the water.

"Y
ou're not into swimming?"

Serena had enjoyed every minute in the pool with Austen's nephews, Mark and Hunter, and Paul's daughter, Chloe. But she couldn't get the loner, Emilee, off her mind. She'd been that girl for a time in her life.

Emilee looked up from her phone. Her lifeline, Serena guessed.

"What's the point?"

Serena pulled a wrought iron footstool closer and sat. "You look a lot like your mom. She and Bailey came to my place earlier today."

The girl swallowed and took her time answering. "She was pretty before she got sick."

"My mother was the ugliest bald lady you ever saw when she had cancer."

That got her attention. Frankness usually connected with teens. And pathos. And honesty.

"Did she die?"

"Nope. Her hair grew back nicer than it was before. Thicker and curly. Very strange."

"How long?"

"How long since she's had treatments?"

Emilee nodded.

"Going on ten years. It was scary as hell at the time. My dad was a wreck. My brother barely left his room. He couldn't bring himself to even look at Mom unless she had a wig on. Pussy."

Emilee's small bark of a laugh seemed to surprise them both.

"Hunter cries at night sometimes. I hear him, but I can't make any of this go away."

Serena shook her head. "No. You can't. I was pretty hard on my brother at the time. I wanted him to man up. But he was just a boy. Gradually, mom got better—stronger, more like herself again—and life went back to normal. But it was ugly for a while."

"Ugly," Emilee repeated, with feeling.

"Your uncle said you and Hunter are moving to Marietta. I just moved here a couple of weeks ago myself."

The disdainful face returned.
Big whoop
, Serena heard her thinking.

"I'll be working with special needs kids." Probably because of Peyton. He never would have thrived in a regular school in his early years. For Peyton, being homeschooled with an over-achiever sibling was the best classroom experience possible. By the time he reached high school, he'd learned some fairly decent coping mechanisms—and, not surprisingly, Serena had learned how to reach kids with disabilities or learning challenges. "I don't know if I'll have a classroom or an office, but I'll be on campus a couple of days a week. If you ever need anything, give me a call. One outsider to another."

"Thanks."

Serena couldn't tell if she meant it or not. Probably not.

She stood and started to head back to the other kids who were playing a spirited game of Marco Polo when she heard Emilee whisper, "If my mom dies, I don't know who will take care of us. Grams and Gramps live in a motorhome in the winter. My d-dad has a new girlfriend. Sh-she's pregnant. It's a girl. I'm not supposed to tell Mom," she added.

This time, Serena sat on the end of Emilee's chaise. "I'd like to say that won't happen, but I have no way of knowing how well your mother's treatment will work. I will say that, generally, breast cancer, if caught early, has a much higher rate of cure than some cancers. But, no matter what, you will come through this. I know that for a fact."

"You don't know me."

"True. I barely know your uncle and he's the reason I'm here today. But I learned a long time ago how to size up people fast. Friend or foe. Kind or cruel. Smart or dumb. You know which you are. And you know you'll be fine."

Emilee got up. "I'm hot. I'm going to get wet, but I won't play their stupid games."

"Go for it. I'll distract the others with food."