The Bachelor’s Surrender (6 page)

Chad beamed, his grin brighter than pure sunshine. “Okay . . . Rafe.”

Rafe ran his finger along the brim of Chad’s Stetson. “Mighty fine looking hat you got yourself there.”

Chad’s cheeks colored, and he ducked his head sheepishly. “It’s just like yours.”

“I’m very flattered.” There was a gentle, affable note to Rafe’s voice that made Chad look back up. “It’s just the kind of hat you’ll need to keep the sun out of your eyes while you’re working and riding the range.”

Chad straightened like a little soldier who’d been assigned a special mission. “I’ll work real hard for you, Rafe,” he promised solemnly.

Rafe gave him a nod of acceptance, then glanced at Lauren. She knew how difficult this was for Rafe, and she hoped her gaze conveyed just how much she appreciated his kindness and patience with Chad.

“Why don’t we go and get your things unloaded and into the house?” he suggested.

“That would be fine.” She smiled. “I bought some groceries, too.”

Together, they worked to unload the sedan, bringing in the luggage and toting the sacks of food to the kitchen. Rafe put their suitcases in the only spare room in the house, and told Chad he could camp out on the couch, which thrilled the young boy.

While Chad ate a light snack of apple juice and oatmeal raisin cookies and talked to Rafe about the riding lessons he’d taken, Lauren put away the groceries. Before long, they were done, with Chad eager to head outside and explore.

Everything had gone smoother than Lauren had expected, with Rafe being congenial and friendly and not exhibiting any resentment for the intrusion into his private life. Strolling along beside Chad as Rafe explained the layout of the ranch, Lauren was beginning to think everything was going to be just fine . . . until a beige sedan crested the dirt hill and pulled up in front of Rafe’s house.

Rafe must have recognized the visitor, because he froze mid-speech and mid-stroll, though Chad skipped ahead to a pen housing a few goats. Lauren stopped, too, sensing a change in Rafe’s disposition. A young, good-looking man wearing a shirt, tie, and slacks climbed from the driver’s side of the car and waved toward them.

Rafe glanced sharply at her, the censure in his gaze chilling her to the bone. His voice was low and edged in steel when he spoke. “What the
hell
is the editor of the local paper doing here?”

The heat and animosity radiating off Rafe startled her, as did the blatant accusation he cast her way. Before she could respond to his fierce demand, the other man approaching them issued an answer.

“Hey, Rafe, I heard about the kid and his request to meet you and thought it would make a great human interest article for the Cedar Creek Gazette.” His drawl was rich with sarcasm. “Everybody loves a local hero, and this is just too interesting of a piece to pass up.”

Rafe’s entire body tensed, and a muscle in his lean jaw ticked. “There isn’t a story for you here, Jason.” The warning vibrating in his voice was unmistakable.

Jason chose to ignore Rafe’s unwelcome statement. “Sure there is,” he said, flashing a dazzling grin Lauren’s way that belied the tenacity in his gaze. “The entire town is all abuzz about your generous offer to entertain this foster child. You have to admit this is quite a surprise, considering what a recluse you’ve been this past year.”

“What I do, and for what reasons, is nobody’s business but my own,” Rafe responded succinctly, proving more obstinate than the adversary he faced. “Find yourself another story. And the next time you ignore that
NO TRESPASSING
sign posted out front, I’ll be pressing charges.”

Sparing Lauren a glance that spoke volumes of anger and frustration, Rafe turned and stalked away, favoring his right leg. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she watched him head toward where Chad was playing with the goats and chickens, relieved to see Rafe tug playfully on the brim of Chad’s Stetson as he talked to the boy. At least Rafe’s animosity didn’t extend to Chad.

“The man certainly knows how to pour on the charm, doesn’t he?” Jason reflected with cynical humor.

“You know, this really isn’t a good time for an interview,” she said, returning her attention back to the man standing beside her. “Chad and I just arrived, and we’re exhausted from the long trip. We’ll be here for the next week, so maybe you could do this another time?” she offered—like after she discovered why Rafe was so opposed to an interview that would do more good for his reputation and Bright Beginnings, than harm.

“You ready for bed, sleepy-head?” Lauren asked Chad, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, not bothering to smother his tired yawn.

It was nine o’clock in the evening, and the day’s excitement had finally taken its toll on Chad. She helped him get ready for bed, and situated him on the couch. Within minutes, the boy was fast asleep. The house grew quiet, and Lauren headed to the guest bedroom to unpack, then took a quick shower and changed into her favorite cotton jersey nightshirt.

As much as she wanted to talk to Rafe about this afternoon’s incident with Jason, he’d made it difficult for her to accomplish her goal by avoiding being alone with her for the rest of the afternoon and evening. He remained warm and friendly with Chad, who’d blossomed from Rafe’s attention as they continued their tour of the ranch. As for her, he’d been civil and polite when the need arose to address her, but there was no escaping the more resentful emotions simmering in his steel gray eyes when he looked at her.

Even now, he was sequestered somewhere on his expansive ranch, avoiding her, no doubt. Well, she planned to wait him out.

Determined to resolve the tension between them tonight so they’d have a chance of a pleasant week together, she grabbed the novel she’d started reading on the flight to Wyoming, crawled into bed, and immersed herself in the romantic suspense. The next thing she knew she’d dozed off, and it was Rafe’s heavy booted steps coming down the hall that woke her. By the time she’d scrambled out of bed and opened her door, he was already enclosed in his room, which was next to hers. She heard his shower turn on before she could knock.

Blowing out an aggravated stream of breath, she braced her back against the wall next to the door and waited out the cycle. Another ten minutes, and she heard him moving around in his room, along with a drawer opening and closing. She gave him time to get dressed, then knocked lightly.

“Yeah?”

His rough and sexy voice strummed along feminine nerves, causing her pulse to quicken with nerves or excitement, she wasn’t sure. She shifted on her bare feet and forced out her request before she changed her mind. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

He hesitated for so long, she began to think he wasn’t going to answer, or planned to refuse her. Finally, he said, “Come on in.”

Opening the door, she stepped into his domain and instantly realized her mistake in being so bold. He stood in the center of the large room, surrounded by dark wood furnishings that matched his personality, casually tying the drawstring on his cotton sweat shorts. His black hair was damp and finger combed away from his face, his lips firm and unyielding, his muscular chest bare. Though she’d seen him without a shirt before, the sight of all that rugged, masculine perfection was no less breath-taking than the first time she’d laid eyes on those wide shoulders and washboard lean belly. His own brazen disregard for his lack of attire was as reckless and daring as the glint in his eyes, sparking lush, vibrant sensations deep within her.

She drew a breath to regain her composure and inhaled the warm, clean scent that clung to him in the aftermath of his shower. Heat and unwanted desire curled low in her belly, spreading outward, making her too aware of the intimacy of the situation. Making her too aware of this man’s sex appeal and magnetism, despite his brooding attitude.

What had she been thinking to barge into his room? In an attempt to right her wrong, she blurted, “Could we do it in the kitchen?”

The slight curving of his lips mocked her, as did the gray eyes that leisurely drifted the length of her, lingering a tad too long, and with too much interest, on the bare legs that extended from the hem of her sleep shirt. “We can do it anywhere you like.”

His double entendre wasn’t lost on her, or the fact that he was trying to intimidate her. But she wasn’t easily threatened by a man who seemed to be more growl than bite.

“I mean
talk
,” she clarified.

His gaze finally flickered back to hers, filled with a brash and reckless insolence. “I never thought differently,” he drawled.

She didn’t believe the rogue for a second. For some reason, he was feeling defensive about today’s incident, and was clearly trying to provoke her into letting the entire episode pass without reconciling anything between them.

Not a chance, Mr. Three Time PRCA Rodeo Champion,
she silently challenged. She planned to ride this particular bull for the eight seconds it required to score a victory.

With that bit of tenacity firmly established in her mind, she turned and crossed quietly through the living room where Chad was sleeping peacefully, to the kitchen.

She flipped the light switch on the wall, and waited for her ornery bull to arrive behind her.

Rafe followed Lauren at a slower pace, the ache in his right thigh a constant, nagging reminder of why he’d chosen the kind of solitary life he had the past year. And now, this woman was wreaking havoc with his quiet, secluded existence and dragging the townsfolk of Cedar Creek into his private business. One day, and she was turning his life upside down and provoking him in ways that he didn’t want to acknowledge or analyze, and stimulating emotions he’d thought himself no longer capable of feeling.

He entered the kitchen, scowl in place. She wasn’t affected by his fierce expression or his boorish attitude, which annoyed him all the more, because he found her own obstinate nature a tempting challenge.

She stood by the counter waiting patiently for him. Arms folded over her chest and features determinedly set, she looked as stubborn as she was beautiful. And she
was
beautiful, even with her face freshly scrubbed and wearing an old, faded sleep shirt. He’d expected silk and lace from her, but she was proving to be more substance than frills. More practical than predictable . . . another trait he found too damn appealing.

Grabbing a chair from the table, he spun it around, straddled the seat, and rested his arms along the back. “The floor is all yours, Ms. Richmond,” he said, inviting her to speak to end the confrontation.

Her eyes flashed a bit of fire over the impertinent way he rolled her last name on his tongue, but she kept her own irritation tamped. “I want to apologize about this afternoon, and for the gentleman from the Cedar Creek Gazette showing up like he did.”

“I agreed to let Chad stay here for a week,” he said, unable to conceal the edge to his voice. “I didn’t agree to a field day with the local paper.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. “You think
I
set up that interview?”

He lifted a brow, implicating her with that direct look. “Didn’t you?”

Her body stiffened indignantly, and her lips pursed. “No, I didn’t. I can’t help it if the people in town are curious about you granting a foster child’s special request. What you’re doing for Chad is unique, and certainly charitable enough to pique human interest.”

“I don’t appreciate having my privacy invaded.”

“Whether you believe it or not, I respect your privacy,” she shot back, her tone exasperated. “But I don’t understand what is so bad about people hearing about what you’re doing for Chad, and Bright Beginnings.”

“It’s none of their business!” Too late, he realized his tone was too harsh, and defensive enough to prompt Lauren to regard him speculatively, her gaze searching past barriers he’d erected the past year. The urge to bolt was strong, overwhelming almost, but he remained sitting, glaring at her in an unwavering stand-off.

After a long, drawn out moment, she sighed as if to release some tension, and dragged her fingers through her silky hair. The shimmering warmth beckoned his own fingertips, made him wonder what the luxurious mass would feel like crushed in his hands, what her hair would smell like if he got close enough to breath in that scent. He imagined the fragrance of sunshine and wildflowers, and realized how long it had been since he’d appreciated such sweet, wholesome scents . . . and how badly he craved those essential, sensual indulgences with her.