Behind Closed Doors

“What’s that?” Woody obviously didn’t understand her jab, but Nathan did, and he sure didn’t appreciate it.

“Well, Ms. Wilson,” he said, tugging down the rim of his Stetson to block the sun. “I’m sorry you made the drive out here for nothing. You should’ve taken the radio silence as a clue.”

She stared at him, her lips parting. “Wait. Can’t we talk about it?”

Nathan had started to turn for the house but stayed right where he was, his gaze lingering on her mouth. The shape and lushness of her lips went straight to the plus column, right under eyes and legs. A stiff breeze stirred stray wisps of fine blond hair around her flushed face and molded the T-shirt to her breasts. They weren’t small. The damn plus column was getting too crowded.

“Talk about what?” Woody looked back and forth between them. “Hells bells, Nathan, do you know what this is about?”

“The lumber we had delivered this morning. Ms. Wilson seems to think there’s a mix-up.”

“Not exactly. Jorgenson gave you my shipment and he’s making me wait for the next one. I know you’ve been a customer forever and I’m new to Blackfoot Falls, but it was wrong. He shouldn’t have done that. I’m not implying it’s your fault. Or your problem.” She stopped for a quick breath. “I’ve had trouble getting workers, but I finally have two guys coming to my place tomorrow morning. But without the lumber...” She shrugged, her gaze flickering to Woody, then back to Nathan. “If you don’t need it right now, or if there’s any way you can wait until Friday...”

Her voice faded along with the hope in her eyes.

“Well, shoot, Jorgenson had no call to do something like that to such a pretty thing,” Woody said, and boy, did she not like that comment.

Her shoulders went back, her lips thinned. Then she must’ve realized the old guy hadn’t meant anything and she gave him a small smile. “It’s bad business. And please, believe me, I know it’s not your problem. I do. If you can’t spare the lumber I’ll get back in my truck and leave. You won’t hear from me again.”

They didn’t need the order for a couple of months. Nathan knew it and so did Woody, who was glaring at him. And for no reason. No, he didn’t like her showing up because he hadn’t returned her calls. But he didn’t like that Jorgenson had screwed her either.

And Nathan sure as hell didn’t like watching her nibble that tempting lower lip and stare back at him. He didn’t have time for this crap. He had business in the stables. “Go ahead, Woody, do whatever you think is best.”

“That’s for you to decide, Nathan,” Woody said in an ornery tone. “I got a new man to hire.” He found another grin for Beth and even puffed out his chest some. “He’ll do right by you, ma’am.” He stopped midturn. “By the way,” he added, his gruff voice gentled. “What you saw wasn’t free labor. It was a test. Nathan won’t hire a man who goes for a whip. Nice meeting you.”

“Woody—”

Ignoring him, Woody hustled to the other side of the corral, his old bowlegs moving faster than Nathan would have thought possible.

He looked at Beth. Embarrassment stained her cheeks, making her eyes greener. She was still worrying that damn bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry. I was joking about the free labor. It wasn’t funny,” she murmured.

“Take the lumber.”

“Thank you,” she said, and caught his hand when all he’d meant to do was wave her toward the barn. She pressed her soft palm to his work-roughened one and shook. “Thank you so much.”

She had some grip. He flexed his hand, trying to get her to let go. Touching her was a mistake. Man, did he not need this. Something was different about this woman. And deep down he knew...hell, he’d known even before he’d seen those long legs and sexy eyes that she was going to be trouble. The alarm bells had gone off the moment he’d heard her sweet, husky voice on his voice mail.

For three years he’d been fine, a certain part of his life had become manageable. And now she was making him think about sex. It wasn’t just a small tug either. She’d cursed him with one of those itches that couldn’t be taken care of in the shower. Right now what he wanted was down-and-dirty, hot, sweaty, honest-to-goodness, sheet-tangling sex.

That was why he needed her gone.

The sooner, the better.

2 (#ulink_1f41c91c-ca1c-5043-a216-fdff7d23c858)

“HEY, BETH.”

She heard the familiar voice coming from behind. It was Craig, a guy she’d met at the Watering Hole, walking from the barn toward her. “Hey, yourself.”

“What are you doing out here, darlin’?” He flashed her that boyish grin he used on every woman who entered the bar. “Looking for me?”

Beth laughed. “You caught me,” she said, throwing in a coy smile. “Now, what was your name again?”

“Ouch.” He was a couple years younger than her and liked laying on the cowboy charm, but he was harmless and knew how to take no for an answer. He slid his hat off when he reached her and wiped his smudged face with the red bandanna tied around his neck, his grin widening. “That’s okay, darlin’. You know I like my women sassy.”

“And I like my hired men working when they’re on the clock,” Nathan said, and how she could have forgotten he was there, even for a second, was ridiculous.

Craig didn’t seem overly concerned with the gruff remark. “Wait till you hear that engine, boss. I got the tractor purring like a kitten.”

Beth had turned to Nathan. She didn’t think he was really upset, but he was doing her a huge favor and she couldn’t afford to aggravate him. She found him watching her, his whiskey-brown eyes taking inventory of her face and throat, and she felt that annoying flutter in her chest again.

He switched his attention to Craig, who’d asked him a question about the tractor, and this was the first chance Beth had to really look without fear of being caught staring. No ifs, ands or buts, she was going to kill Rachel. It didn’t matter that Rachel was engaged. She still had a duty to warn a person about to meet a hottie like Nathan Landers for the first time. For heaven’s sake, a simple heads-up was an unspoken rule that every woman understood.

The man was well over six feet of lean muscle with broad shoulders and a strong jaw shadowed by a day’s worth of sexy dark stubble. His nearly black hair seemed to be cut in a traditional style, though he hadn’t removed his hat so she didn’t know for sure. And yes, she might’ve preferred it a bit longer but...

His gaze shifted back to her, those dreamy light brown eyes catching her off guard. “Where do you live?”

“Me?” She went blank for a moment. “Why?” she asked, noting the lazy, sensual curve to his mouth even when he wasn’t smiling.

“Just wondering how you plan on moving that lumber.”

“Oh. My truck.”

He lifted the brim of his hat and frowned at her pickup. “That?”

She nodded. “Two trips ought to do it. I’m only going to Blackfoot Falls...to the old boardinghouse.”

“You bought the place?”

“Yes,” she said, sighing. “I’m turning it into an inn. Nothing elaborate, only a dozen rooms. I’m trying to keep the early-1900s feel to the place.” She glanced toward the large single-level home with its beautiful stonework and arched entry. “The whole inn could probably fit in your house. It’s amazing, by the way. I love all the details. Did you build it yourself?”

Their gazes met, the sudden distrust in his eyes taking her by surprise. He said nothing, his expression growing more aloof as he fished his phone out of his pocket.

So much for pleasantries. Fine. She was tired and already not looking forward to making a second trip. “Tell me where the lumber is and I’ll move my truck.”

“Inside the east barn,” Nathan said absently, his attention on his phone as though he’d already dismissed her.

Miffed with his rudeness and trying not to react, she turned and saw several rust-colored buildings. The closest one was obviously a barn, and she guessed that the large, freshly painted structure behind it near the trees might be the stables. Everything, from the house with its wide circular drive to the dozen or so outbuildings, was in prime shape.

She cast another longing look at the lovely home with the oversize windows and rose beds.

It finally hit her.

How could she have been so insensitive? That home had to have been built for his late wife. Beth doubted he kept the gardens tended for his own enjoyment. Even the small charming courtyard between the wrought iron gate and the front door was well maintained.

“I know where the lumber is,” Craig said, startling her because she thought he’d left. “I’ll show you where to park, then go grab Troy. We’ll have you loaded in no time.”