The Rancher's Dance (13 page)

Jake was silent for a moment. “Would you at least be willing to come out and tour the property?”

Beck's hand tightened around the beer. Before he could find a more or less polite way of declining, a woman's voice interrupted.

“Stop looking so serious over there.” Her voice carried over the noise and a second later she slid onto Jake's lap, a smile on her face. Beck recognized her as one of the women who'd been with Lucy at the bar that night. “I'm J.D.,” she introduced, sliding an arm around Jake's neck.

“My wife,” Jake provided, looking indulgent.

“And you—” J.D. turned to look him in the eye “—are talking business. I can tell.”

“So?”

“So,” she drawled, “this is a day of fun.” Her bright green eyes shifted to Beck.
“Fun,”
she repeated.

“Since when don't you think anything to do with your beloved horses isn't fun?” Jake asked.

“Well, that's true,” J.D. allowed with a grin. “But your sons are about ready to drive poor Megan into misery, so maybe you should get back in the water with them.”

Jake sighed noisily as he lifted her off his lap and handed her his beer. “Fine.” He headed toward the water but glanced at Beck. “We'll talk again.”

“Talking won't change my mind,” Beck said.

But Jake just smiled faintly as if he knew differently before jumping into the water with a splash that reached all the way back to Beck's feet.

J.D. sat down in the chair that her husband had vacated and tilted the bottle to her lips. “Lucy's not as tough as she appears,” she said after a moment.

Beck jerked his gaze away from the woman in question, feeling his jaw tighten. “I beg your pardon?”

J.D. looked at him. “She wasted two years of her life being strung along by a guy who never intended to give her what she deserves.”

“I thought she was the principal ballerina.” He remembered her telling him that. And that the jerk had replaced her.
And
that she'd defended the guy's actions.

“I'm not talking about dancing.”

Beck didn't want to know what Lucy's cousin was talking about. More to the point, he didn't want to face the fact that he knew good and well what J.D.
was
talking about.

“I just don't want to see her getting hurt again,” J.D. continued.

“She know you go around putting up warning signs?”

“Nope. And when she finds out now, she's going to want to strangle me.” She didn't look unduly worried, though.

“Can't say I blame her,” he said mildly.

J.D. smiled but her eyes were still serious. “Everyone always thinks she's the tough New Yorker now, but those of us who know her best know otherwise.”

“I knew I shouldn't have come here,” he murmured.

“Well, actually,” J.D. allowed, “I think the fact that you did is pretty great.”

He gave her a look. “Really.”

She lifted a hand. “I just wanted to make sure you
know she's got a soft heart. So tread carefully, would you please?”

“I'm not treading anywhere.”

“Ah.” She stood up and looked at him. “Now that would be a real shame.” Leaving the beer sitting on the lawn chair seat, she turned and ran swiftly into the water.

Beck pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered yet again what he'd gotten himself into.

Water droplets fell over his arm and he looked up to see Shelby standing beside him. Her hair was clinging to her face and shoulders and she was shivering. “Ready to be done?” He started to reach for one of the towels he'd brought but she shook her head, looking horrified at the very thought of it.

“Come swim with us,” she said instead.

Beck sighed. Maybe the sooner he did, the sooner they could leave. Being around these people was no better for him than being alone would have been. And he had no real desire to let his bad mood affect anyone else. “Okay.”

His daughter beamed at him and raced back to the water, jumping in without a second's hesitation.

Possibly because Lucy was standing there waiting, her arms outstretched to catch her.

Go on now.
The soft voice whispered inside his head.

Sure.
Now
Harmony's voice made an appearance. He damn near told the voice to take a hike. But he finally rose and pulled off his shirt and with a running start, he cannonballed into the water.

When he came up from the cold depths, his daughter was clapping and Lucy was smiling, looking strangely mischievous. “Ready,” he heard her whisper to Shelby.

His daughter nodded. And before he knew what hit him, both wet bodies launched themselves at his shoulders, pushing him back under water.

His arms shot around them both and he kicked to the surface. “That's ganging up,” he told Shelby who was giggling wildly. Then he tossed her one-handed into the air. She shrieked and hit the water with a splash.

Which left him only one other wriggling perpetrator caught in his arm and all he could think when he turned his attention on Lucy was that it was a good thing the water was as freezing cold as it was. “This the way you treat all your guests?”

Her legs felt silky as they brushed against his. “Only the really special ones,” she assured breathlessly. She pressed her hands against his shoulder and her back arched away from him in her struggle to break free of the arm he had clamped around her waist.

She was a lightweight out of water and the water only made her more so. He lifted her as easily as he had Shelby until she was over his head.

“Don't you dare.” Her hands scrabbled at his arms.

He pitched her into the drink.

She came up sputtering, her chin just above the water. “You know, my swimsuit top came off down there.”

“Did you find it?” He couldn't see an inch beyond the dark surface of the water.

“Yes.”

“Pity.” And then, when her eyes widened with surprise, he laughed.

L
ucy stared. “You're laughing,” she said stupidly.

“It has been known to happen.” He was still smiling, showing off a dimple in his cheek and a glint in his eyes that just begged to be smiled back at in return.

So she did.

Giddily.

And what if she did look a little goofy, or that she did hover there, treading water, staring and smiling just a little too long into his face?

He'd not only smiled.

He'd laughed.

And she felt as if some miracle had occurred, right before her eyes, and she wasn't even sure how it had come to pass.

“I wanna swing from the rope,” Shelby interrupted, swimming over to Lucy and wrapping her arms tightly around her neck. “Can I?”

Lucy kicked a little harder to keep her chin above water.
Shelby felt like a wriggling, wet fish next to her. “That's up to your dad,” she told her.

“Please, Daddy, can I?”

Beck looked over to where the rope dangled above the flat boulder. “I don't think so.”

“Please?”
Shelby reached out with one arm and grabbed his shoulder. Since the girl still had her other hand wrapped in a stranglehold around Lucy, she found herself nearly face-to-face with the man.

He was treading water, too, and their legs brushed again. Long and slow and distractingly.

Almost as if he'd done it deliberately, which he surely wouldn't have.

Would he?

Her breath felt strangled suddenly, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with Shelby's grip.

“I get to jump off the diving board at the swimming pool.” Shelby wasn't finished with her case obviously. “And I swim better than even the big kids in swim class.
Please?
”

Lucy could see the softening in his eyes even before his lips twisted. “Fine. But we're going to do it together first.” He unlooped her hand from Lucy's neck and his knuckles skimmed along her throat. The nerves in Lucy's chilly skin suddenly went hot and, afraid he'd see, she quickly ducked under the water and swam off, popping back up a few feet away.

But he was already swimming toward the shore with Shelby in tow, and when he gained a foothold, hung his giggling daughter under one arm off his hip and carried her out of the water and over to the boulder.

Lucy watched, rapt, as he set Shelby upright and flipped her around to his back. She crossed her arms around his
neck and he took the knotted rope in hand, his gaze clearly judging the sturdiness.

“You're going to fill this hole to overflowing if you don't stop drooling.” Sarah swam up beside Lucy, her auburn hair looking like streamers of wet fire around her shoulders.

“I'm not drooling,” she dismissed. Pretty much an utter lie.

“Could have fooled me.” They watched Beck wrap his hands around the rope just above one of the big knots. “Admit it, Luce,” Sarah chided softly. “You're not feeling
neighborly
at all.”

Lucy made a face at her cousin but quickly looked back toward the boulder. “He's a good man. And I just think it's nice to see a dad with his daughter,” she assured. “He's really quite terrific with her.” Then she laughed when Beck gave a leap, Shelby screeched and the pair soared over the water and dropped with a mighty splash.

“So it appears. But you still can't fool me, my dear.” Sarah leaned closer. “When's the last time you thought about Lars?”

Lucy's chin dipped under water. She gave Sarah a quick look. “What?”

“Me thinks you're not suffering a broken heart over the jerk, but a longing one for the neighbor instead.”

She opened her mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come and Sarah gave her a sympathetic look. “Just be careful,” she murmured.

“And not fall for a guy who isn't over his wife?” Lucy pasted a grin on her face as Beck and Shelby swam by again toward the shore. Whether it was Shelby who was ready for another go at the rope swing or her father, it was hard to tell. Beck was still smiling and every time Lucy looked at that stretch of mobile lips, something inside her chest tightened. “Don't worry,” she told Sarah as she started
to follow them out of the hole. “I know how to take care of myself.”

But even as she climbed out of the water, her gaze strayed back to Beck. There really
was
no point in worrying over how she felt about Beck.

Because it was already too late.

She'd already started on that long, long fall.

 

The sun was well below the horizon when the group began to thin. After the food, the boys—Erik and Casey—had departed for finer pastures; namely Colbys where they could play pool and pick up girls. Courtney had left with them because she was on duty at the hospital. Then Leandra and Evan—who had arrived just when they'd started up the fire to cook the steaks and the foil-wrapped corn on the cob—departed with their brood. After them, it was Sarah and Max and their clan who eventually drifted away, also taking J.D. and Jake's twin boys, who were spending the night there with Eli, as well as the tuckered out Tuck, who'd been sound asleep in his carrier for hours.

Judging by the way Jake was hustling J.D. to their vehicle, Lucy knew what
they
would be up to the second they were alone without the kids, and couldn't help grinning to herself when they quickly departed, too.

She leaned back in the low folding beach chair she'd brought along and stretched her toes closer to the fire ring. The flames that had cooked the steaks to charred, juicy perfection had burned low and the wood was mostly glowing hot embers now, but the heat still felt good against the encroaching coolness of the evening. Replete with good food, hours of hot sunshine and cold swimming, she felt in no hurry at all to head back to the Lazy-B.

Of course, that lack of hurry could well have had something to do with Beck because he was still there, too. Along
with his daughter, who looked adorable wrapped in her father's miles-too-large T-shirt as she chased around in the clover with Chloe trying to catch fireflies, and his father, who was quite obviously trying to catch something for himself, too—namely Jake's aunt—who hadn't made any effort to depart when her nephew and J.D. had.

Lucy wasn't the only one who noticed either. Mallory, who was sitting beside her in a similar-style chair, leaned close. “I always thought Susan stayed on in Weaver because of Jake and the twins, but watching her now, I'm thinking there was another reason, too.”

Lucy smiled faintly and nodded. Her gaze kept straying to Beck, who was sitting across the fire ring from her. He wasn't saying much. Not that she'd really expected him to.

But he was still there…which she hadn't really expected.

The man was a continual surprise.

“Look out. They're on the move,” Mallory whispered, sounding amused. Lucy watched Susan begin gathering up her belongings while Stan worked his way around the moonlit swimming hole toward them. She saw him lean down close to Beck, talking softly.

Beck grimaced and she heard him mutter, “Seriously?”

Stan whispered again and in the glow of the firelight she could see Beck's distinctly disgruntled expression. He looked across the fire ring at her. “D'you mind dropping me and Shelby off on your way back home?”

She barely managed to hide her surprise. “Of course not.”

He grimaced again at his father, then fumbled in the mess of towels sitting on the ground beside his chair. She saw him hand over his keys to his father.

Within minutes, Stan and Susan were heading through the trees toward the vehicles, hand-in-hand.

“Well, well, well,” Ryan murmured once they were gone. “Romance strikes again.”

Mallory laughed softly. “I think it's lovely.”

So did Lucy. Beck, however, was noticeably silent.

Fortunately, Chloe and Shelby trotted over then before his silence could become awkward. They were full of plans for Shelby to spend the night with Chloe, as long as they could talk their parents into it.

“We'll take her to church with us,” Mallory told Beck after agreeing, “and drop her off at your place afterward if it's okay with you?”

With his daughter clinging to one of his arms and Chloe clinging to the other, both passionately pleading for him to allow it, Beck felt as if he was losing all control.

First his father.

Now his daughter.

He wanted to tell the lady doctor no just as badly as he'd wanted to tell his father no.

But Stan was an adult. One with a life to lead, and—as he'd muttered in Beck's ear only minutes earlier—unlike Beck, he was ready to start leading it again.

Shelby, on the other hand, was Beck's young child.

His young child who wasn't whispering to him anymore, and who was clearly coming out of her shell around these people.

He looked across the fire pit.

Lucy was swallowed in a sweater, her long bare legs sticking out from beneath toward the warmth of the fire. Her hair was a bedraggled mess around her face and in the dim light, her eyes looked like pools just as dark as the swimming hole behind them.

He wasn't sure he'd ever wanted a woman more.

“Yeah,” he finally said gruffly. “You can go.”

The little girls bounced up and down with more energy than any two beings should have after a day of sun and water.

Ryan leaned over toward the fire pit and tossed a toothpick into the flames. “Mebbe we should have had 'em stay at
your
place,” he told Beck drily. “It's going to take hours for them to wind down.” Then he pushed to his feet and Chloe bounced over to him. He swept her up into his arms, smacked her young cheek with a noisy kiss and tipped her back onto the ground. “You two gather up all your stuff, then, and we'll hit it.”

Looking pleased, Lucy got up, too, and moved over to the folding tables that were nearly empty now. She and Mallory finished packing away the leftovers in the few remaining ice chests. The little girls scampered around, giggling and picking up towels and toys. While Mallory and Ryan carried the ice chests to his truck, Beck went over to the tables. “These go, too, I assume?”

“Nope.” Lucy turned and propped her backside on one of them. “They can stay. They'll be used again more than once before the summer's out and nobody'll bother them here.” She swung her legs a few times and looked away.

“Your knee looks like it's working pretty well again.”

She straightened the leg in question and pointed her bare foot. “One step forward, two steps back,” she murmured. “But yes. So far so good.”

He very nearly wrapped his hand around that slender ankle and sharply arched foot. But just then Ryan and Mallory stepped out of the trees and called to the girls, and he shoved his itching palm into the back pocket of his shorts.

“She's not going to have any clean clothes,” he told them, feeling like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner.

Mallory waved that off. “She can wear something of Chloe's. And we have plenty of new toothbrushes on hand.” She patted Beck casually on the arm as she passed by him to retrieve her chair. “Don't worry about a thing. We'll take good care of her.” She grinned. “I
am
a doctor,” she reminded.

Despite himself, Beck smiled a little. He caught up Shelby before she headed through the trees with her new-found friend and gave her a kiss. “Be good.”

“I'm always good,” she said indignantly. “Dontchyou remember?”

He smoothed his hand over her head. God, he loved this child. “I remember,” he assured.

Mollified, she nodded. “Go on now,” she said as she headed toward the trees, hand-in-hand with Chloe. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Beck's throat went tight. He nodded and watched his little girl leave. He watched until he heard the start of an engine and the roll of tires. And he watched some more until he heard nothing at all but the soft crackle of the burning wood in the fire pit and the steady chirp of crickets.

“Well.” Lucy's voice was soft. “I guess I should smother the firewood.”

She was right. Douse the fire. Get the hell out of there and retreat to the safety of their own corners.

But when she slid off the table and started for the fire, his hand seemed to shoot out of its own accord, catching her around her supple upper arm.

His knuckles felt the soft knit of her sweater. And the even softer give of the breast beneath.

“It's not that late yet,” he said.

She slowly looked from his hand on her arm up to his face. “No,” she agreed after a moment. “It's not. Do you…want to stay?”

He wanted. Period. He pulled his hand away from her arm and shoved both of his hands in his front pockets before he could do something else even more stupid. “Yeah, I want to stay.” Which was about the stupidest thing that he could have said.

And he had no desire to retract the words.

Particularly because all he had
was
desire.

Her lashes dipped. “All right, then.” She pulled a bottle of water out of her bag and twisted off the cap as she headed toward her chair once more. Her sweater slipped off her bare shoulder as she sat down and stretched her toes toward the fire ring again.

He dragged his eyes away from that curve of taut, smooth skin and went over to his own chair, well away from her.

Only she tsked at that. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered and dragged her chair around to his side of the fire. She plopped back down on it. “I'm pretty sure I got rid of my cooties back in the fourth grade.”

The grunt of laughter came out of nowhere. “I doubt anyone ever figured you
had
cooties. Even when you were in fourth grade.”

She was smiling a little as she lifted the water bottle to her lips.

“I, on the other hand, had 'em big time,” he said abruptly. He stared into the fire. “Harmony was the only one who was immune.”