Too Hot to Handle (12 page)

“Shane!” she snapped. He heard her truck door slam just as he hit the unlock button on his truck. “Shane, just what are you up to?”

He stopped and let his head drop, praying for patience. Jeanine Bishop was actually his stepgrandmother, and she’d made that clear for as long as he could remember. She’d never had any of her own children, and she didn’t seem to know what to do with the few she’d inherited. His grandfather hadn’t been any sort of example of grandparenting, either. He’d been impatient with kids and hot-tempered with everyone. Visits out at the Bishop ranch had been unbearably quiet and tense.

Jeanine Bishop’s footsteps stopped just behind him. Shane took off his hat and turned. “Grandmother,” he said, even as he wondered what his real grandma had been like. She’d died young. Or hell, maybe that was a lie. Maybe she’d run off like half the other members of his family.

“Are you engaging in a campaign of vandalism to discourage the board?”

“What?” he snapped, shocked despite himself. He shouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point. These people were insane.

“Well? Are you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The mailbox was destroyed out on the homestead.”

“And why would I do something like that?”

“I have no idea!” she spat. “Why would you sue for your grandfather’s money after everything he did for you? He didn’t have to leave you that land, you know.”

“Oh, I know. In fact, I never asked for it. I never asked for anything.”

“Your grandfather honored you with—”

“Right. You’ve told me this before, remember? But we both know Gideon Bishop left me this land because he couldn’t stand to see it sold off and he’d be damned if he’d give it to the state for preservation. So it came to me.”

She sniffed. “And yet it’s not enough for you.”

“The money would’ve been mine, too, if I’d changed my name back to Bishop. He didn’t give a shit about that old ghost town. Grandpa gave the money to the trust to teach me a lesson. He was a spiteful old goat.”

“Don’t you speak that way about him! You should’ve been proud of that name! Taking your mother’s name was nothing more than a long-term tantrum. Your mother’s people never contributed anything to this community.”

Shane shoved his hat back on his head and sneered. “Maybe not, but they helped raise me, which is a damn sight more than I can say for anybody in the Bishop family.”

“Your grandfather wasn’t responsible for your father’s failings.”

“You’re right. He wasn’t. But even the smallest gesture would’ve meant a lot to my brother and me. To my mom. A little help with money. Some sympathy. One goddamned kind word. The only words your husband ever offered were advice about how my mom could’ve held on to her man.”

“Maybe it was good advice.”

“Yeah? Did he offer the same helpful suggestions to you when he kicked you out and moved his new wife in?”

She gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. “Shane Bishop! How dare you!”

“It’s Harcourt,” he muttered, already pissed at himself for lashing out at an old woman. He opened the door of his truck and slid in. “I know you hired a curator for Providence, and I know why you did it. A cute move, but a waste of money.”

“It’s what your grandfather wanted!” she yelled, any pretense of civility gone.

“What he wanted was to piss me off. So I guess he wins again.”

Shane slammed the door and drove away, leaving Jeanine Bishop glaring after him. God, he sometimes wondered if he ever should’ve started this. He hadn’t wanted anything from the Bishop family, and when he’d been informed about the land inheritance, his first word had been
no.

No, he didn’t need anything from his grandfather. More than that, he didn’t
want
anything. He’d told the lawyer to start the process of selling the land. But in the days that had followed, Shane had reconsidered. Why shouldn’t he get the land? Didn’t he deserve something to go along with all the pain of being his father’s son? And if his brother ever reappeared, he’d deserve something, too. Shane had been named the sole heir, but did he have the right to give it all away without even talking to Alex?

That was when the insult had sunk in. The sharp stab of his grandfather’s final stubborn point. The land, but not the money. The Bishop legacy, but not the comfort.

That was when Shane had gotten pissed.

If his only recourse had been to sell it, he would have. But his lawyer had presented another possibility, to challenge the change to the will, and Shane had jumped on it. Hell, maybe he didn’t deserve the money, but he knew for damn sure that a bunch of falling-down buildings didn’t need it more than he did.

No matter what Merry Kade might think.

Shit. He’d known better than to touch her. She was going to be pissed enough when she found out who he was. And now there was
this
between them? Thank God she’d stopped him before it had gone any further.

He had to talk to her tonight. He’d been too busy to go out to Providence this morning. Or else he’d been too chicken, still uncertain exactly what had happened the night before. Had he pushed her too hard? Had he misread the signals?

He’d also been painfully conscious of the fact that at 2:00 a.m., desperate for sleep, he’d finally let himself imagine what might have happened. He’d imagined her beneath him, her nails digging into his back, her voice crying his name as he buried himself deep inside her. Now he’d have to face her as a friend, and pretend that hadn’t happened, and hope that the sight and sound of her didn’t arouse him.

He growled as he pulled up to the curb of the Stud Farm. Cole’s truck was there as well, so he wasn’t the least bit surprised when his best friend popped through the front door and raised his hand in greeting.

“Hey,” Shane said as he got out of his truck. “I guess it’s been a couple of weeks. How’s it going?”

Cole’s limp seemed to have completely disappeared, and Shane nodded as his friend walked down the sidewalk. “It’s great,” he said. “Sold off most of the yearlings and moved the rest of the herd up to the high pasture, so I can take an hour or two off. How about you?”

“Busy season, but it’s good. Listen, is Merry home? I need to talk to her.”

Those words wiped all the open friendliness from Cole’s face. His jaw clenched and he stared hard at Shane. “Christ, man.”

“What?”

“I thought Grace was just being paranoid. Damn it, Shane, are you moving in on Merry?”

“No!” he said automatically. Then, “Wait. What do you mean, ‘Damn it, Shane’?”

“Come on. You’re not exactly the kind of guy we’d choose for Merry.”

“We?”

“Yes. We. Merry’s kind of a little sister to me now.”

“And what the hell am I?”

Cole crossed his arms and glared at him. “You’re my friend, but you don’t exactly have a great history with relationships.”

“I don’t have any history with relationships, so what the hell does that mean?”

“Exactly what you just said.”

Shane really couldn’t believe this. He knew Grace wasn’t crazy about him, but Cole was his best friend. Cole knew him like… Well, shit. He knew Shane well enough to know the same things that Shane knew about himself.

All his outrage escaped as he exhaled and felt his shoulders slump. He wasn’t the guy anyone would want a friend or sister dating. Fuck, he didn’t think he was a dog. He never promised anything more than he had to give, but what he had to give was lacking. Sex, not love. Momentary company, not commitment. He knew these things. So did Cole.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, holding up his hand like a flag of surrender. “It’s not like that. She’s a neighbor. We had pizza.”

“Yeah? You sure?” Cole’s raised eyebrows spoke a soliloquy of doubt.

“I’m sure. Merry is just…a buddy, you know? That’s all. Someone to hang out with.”

Cole apparently found that easy to believe, because his tension melted into a relieved smile. “Good. Because I don’t want to have to kick your ass over this. Or shovel you into an ambulance after Grace gets a hold of you.”

“Got it.”

“Because you know she would stuff your balls down your throat, right? After she cut off your dick.”

“I’ve kind of been getting that feeling. But it’s not going to be an issue. We’re friends. That’s it.”

Cole slapped his shoulder. “Perfect. Easy’s having us over on Sunday evening and asked if you’d come out. This’ll be much more relaxing if I’m not guarding you from the gelding knife Grace has been eyeing.”

“I’ll be there.” Easy was a damned master of the grill pit. Shane wouldn’t miss it for the world. And it would be a damn sight more comfortable if he could get past this apology to Merry. “So is she home?”

“Yep.”

He said goodbye and steeled himself for the next few minutes. Best to apologize and get it over quickly, like peeling off a bandage. Still, it went more quickly than he’d planned. His knuckles had just barely hit the door to her apartment when she yanked it open and greeted him with a bright smile.

“Hi!”

Shane had just barely formed the worry that Merry was a little too excited to see him when she corrected his panicked thoughts.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she said on a rush. “I shouldn’t have gotten so flustered. I know it didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Right. Yes, I’m sorry.” His mind tried to find the right words. “It was just the beer and the, um…”

“I know. There was a bed right there, so why not? Right?”

“Uh. Sure. Of course. And you looked different last night. I just got a little…”

“I wiled you!”

Shane blinked. “Huh?”

“I wore shiny stuff and showed some skin, and listen, I totally get the friends with benefits thing. It’s cool.”

“Oh.” What was she saying? The conversation was quicksand beneath his feet. “Friends with benefits? Was that what you were thinking?”

“No!” She laughed. Hard. “No way! Oh, God, I’m sorry. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to. I swear. You’re super hot. And really sexy. And I’d be up for it. I really would. But it would be too weird.”

“Weird,” he repeated, but what he was really thinking was
hot
.
Sexy
.

“Not weird because of you! No. You’re not weird. I’m weird. Or, I mean, I’m not weird. Well, I probably am. But it would be weird because I haven’t had sex in a really long time.”

“Oh.” Shane’s brain felt as if it had shattered into a hundred pieces that were all flying in different directions. “I see. I think.”

Merry cringed and covered her eyes. “Oh, God. I don’t mean like a decade or something. I wasn’t even having sex a decade ago. It’s only been two years. That’s a long time, right? But not freakishly long?”

“Two
years?
”

She peeked at him past her fingers. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.

“Is that awful?”

“No! Not at all. Anyway, I just wanted to be sure you weren’t pissed off. If I made you uncomfortable or I was out of line last night, I’m sorry.”

“No big deal! We’ll do it again sometime. The pizza and a show. Not, you know, the benefits. Which would be lovely and all, but… Goodbye!”

She closed the door on his face, and Shane just stood there staring at the wood.
Two years?
He told himself not to think about how hard he could make her come, how tight she’d be, how much she must need it. And he failed miserably.

CHAPTER NINE

M
ERRY
IS
JUST
A
BUDDY
.

Yes. Good. Thank God she’d stood in the window and eavesdropped on Shane and Cole. Rude, of course, but she was clear on their relationship now. She was a buddy, her normal position. She was used to that and she could deal with it. It was the uncertainty that had tormented her.

This morning she’d woken up confused by the kissing. The touching. She’d let herself wonder if she’d been wrong about him. Maybe she should’ve been braver and taken a chance. Maybe, despite Grace’s suspicions, Shane Harcourt really was interested in her and wanted something more with her.

But no. She was a buddy. What had thrown her off was the friends with benefits thing. It wasn’t some exotic phenomenon she’d never heard of, it had just never been something a man had wanted with her.

With Grace, certainly. And every other cute, cool girl she’d ever known. But Merry had always been a buddy in the truest sense of the word. Buddies didn’t have touchable breasts or intriguing vaginas. Buddies were people you burped around and bragged to about other women.

So this was a promotion, really! She was not just a friend, but also a sexual being. It felt nice. Or she told herself it felt nice. And it was an option if she really needed access to a friendly penis in the future. She could check that off her worry list.

“Whew,” she said out loud.

She heard the
thunk
of the pipes shutting off. Grace was done with her shower. There was another thing to be thankful for. Merry had managed to straighten out her relationship with Shane without inciting another lecture from Grace.

“I’m off to the museum!” she shouted toward the bathroom.

“Have fun!”

Fun. Right. A fund-raising party for the Jackson Historical Society. She’d be the youngest one there, aside from the kids dragged along by parents. And sadly, she
would
have fun. She’d always loved listening to stories from older generations, and she’d feel more comfortable than she would among her peers. But it was a really terrible way to meet men, unless you didn’t mind the forty-five-minute wait for Viagra to work.

But she turned out to be glad she’d worn tight jeans and her favorite black T-shirt for the party, not to mention some dangly earrings Grace had made her buy at some point, because as soon as she opened the apartment door, she ran into a tall, handsome cowboy. A
new
tall, handsome cowboy.

“Hi!” she chirped in surprise. He froze in the act of starting up the stairs. His boot hovered for a moment, and then he spun to face her, a smile spreading over his face. His neatly trimmed beard couldn’t dim the beauty of that grin.