Wild For You

“I don’t blame you at all,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “In fact, if you have some other trick up your sleeve, go for it. Let’s see what you got.”

“Trick?” None of this made sense. He’d known all along why she was here. “You think I fell in the mud on purpose?”

“I don’t know. Did you?”

“Of course not.” She couldn’t read him. Was he teasing, or trying to distract her? “I swear to you, the land would be left in perfect condition. And the money is more than generous.” Pausing for a breath, she moistened her dry lips. “Better than the boilerplate.” She wasn’t lying. She’d nearly gotten her head chewed off for the offer she’d extended him.

His brows rose expectantly. “That’s it?”

She stared at him, thoroughly confused.

“I have to admit, I’m disappointed,” he said. “I expected something interesting. Not that it would’ve mattered. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Wait. Don’t you have any questions for me? Whatever is holding you back might not be an issue at all. At least let me try to put your concerns to rest.” She grabbed the folder off the dryer and followed him into the kitchen. “Can we do that?”

“Do what?”

“Start a discussion.”

He poured coffee into a black mug and ignored the blue one that she presumed he’d set out for her. Leaning against the counter, he took a sip while staring at her over the rim. It wasn’t so much his silence as the sudden narrowing of his eyes that unnerved her.

“What?”

“I do have a question.”

“Great,” she said, relaxing and pouring some coffee. Maybe they could come to terms after all. “Ask me anything.”

“What exactly are you prepared to do to get me to agree?”

The sugar she was lightly sprinkling into her mug slipped for a moment. It wasn’t so much his words but his tone that set off alarm bells. “I don’t think I understand the question.”

He gave her a slow smile. “I think you do.”

She really hoped he wasn’t implying what she thought... She looked up and followed his gaze to where the robe had slipped off her shoulder. The thick chenille fabric had taken her bra strap with it. Easy to assume she was naked underneath. So what? It didn’t make his remark any less insulting.

Yanking the robe back in place, she returned his smile with a much sweeter one. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and not assume you’re being a complete prick.”

* * *

SPENCER COULD SEE she was pissed. Maybe he’d gone too far. But after finding her checklist, he really hadn’t known what to think at first. She was from Hollywood. The whole thing this afternoon could’ve been staged. Despite her claim she had no interest in acting, she’d transformed herself since they last met in July. The short skirt, the hair, the makeup...all of it meant to persuade him to give in. Yet the more they’d interacted, the less inclined he was to think she was playing him.

Either way, Erin was an interesting woman. Maybe he was fooling himself, but he didn’t think he’d let on that he was attracted to her. Although he had a feeling celibacy had made him a poor judge. Even Dusty had given him a few strange looks.

“You’re right. I was being a prick,” he said, sorry she’d pulled the robe up. “That was an offensive insinuation, and I apologize.”

“Oh.” She studied him for several seconds, a slight frown tugging at her brows. “Apology accepted. So—”

“My land is still off-limits.”

She let out a breath of pure frustration. “Will you at least tell me why?”

“Why do you want it so badly? There are thousands of acres of open land around here to choose from.”

“It’s about Moonlight Mountain. Jason, the director, wants to use the west side of the mountain in the last scene.” Erin sighed. “I tried talking him out of it, but I admit I probably wasn’t very convincing. If I were directing, I’d want to shoot the final showdown there myself. The setting is perfect.”

“In your world I’m thinking the director is god.”

“Pretty much.” She shrugged. “This project is different, though. It’s an indie film. No big money backers. Just a bunch of us who met in film school. We pooled our resources and connections to make this happen, so we’re all invested in the film’s success. We’re hoping for a sequel. Without having to beg for backers. And best of all, at least for me,” she said, grinning, “I get to be assistant god.”

Spencer sipped his coffee to distract himself from the sparkle that turned her eyes a soft warm brown. He and Dusty had a lot of work to do before winter. So much that Spencer had actually considered hiring a couple men to help with fencing. He only had a small herd, but he didn’t want to still be out repairing fences when the snow and frigid temperatures hit, let alone have to search for any wayward cattle that might escape in the meantime.

In the end he’d decided his privacy was more important. So he’d put off expanding operations; it wasn’t easy, but he and Dusty had been tackling what needed doing from a prioritized list.

“Sorry to tell you,” he said. “You played the sympathy card for nothing.”

The warmth instantly disappeared, and she gave him a cool look. “I don’t need your sympathy. You asked and I answered. Which is more courtesy than you extended me.”

Hell, he didn’t owe her a damn thing.

“Anyway, with or without your mountain, we will succeed. This is going to be the best damn film on a shoestring budget that was ever made. One way or another, Hollywood is going to stand up and take notice. Failure isn’t an option. Not for me.”

Not much he could say to that. He’d been that young and naive once. Erin hadn’t learned enough about life yet. It had a way of sneaking up and knocking you down. He rubbed the scar on his wrist. It was a year old and already barely noticeable. He couldn’t have found a better surgeon.

If only she could have mended his career, as well. His whole future had gone straight to hell that day. No more hopes and dreams for him.

“Good luck with that,” he said, trying not to sound as cynical as he felt. “And by the way—” he dug into his jeans pocket and held out the piece of smudged paper with her list “—you dropped this.”

3 (#u720f8570-df21-5231-bf43-1b2ea22a5bad)

ERIN STEPPED OUT of the Food Mart into the brisk morning air and shivered from head to toe. Her medium-weight black hoodie just wasn’t cutting it anymore. It was perfect for fall, even winter, in Southern California. But not here in Blackfoot Falls.

But damned if she’d spend money on a coat. And damn Spencer Hunt’s stubborn hide. She wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him.

Hugging a bag of groceries to her chest, she picked up the pace across the parking lot, nodding at an older man getting out of his truck, and wishing she’d driven from the inn. Fat lot of good the exercise would do her if she ended up a Popsicle.

Just before she reached the sidewalk, the sign for the new bakery caught her eye. If she was still here tomorrow, she’d check it out. Hell, she’d probably be stuck here for another week after screwing up so badly yesterday. For now, she stayed on the right side of the street with the sun shining directly on her.

Her cell rang, and hoping it was Lila, Erin pulled her hand out from the warmth of her jeans pocket. They’d been playing phone tag since yesterday’s fiasco with Spencer.

“Finally,” Erin said. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Don’t you dare give me attitude.” Lila was normally laid-back, but she sounded grumpy. “I’m so sick of your friend Jason and the damn princess...one minute she wants hair extensions, the next she’s in my face over— Hey, did you know he’s banging her?”

“Penelope? You sure?”

“Well, they were buttoning up when they left his trailer last night. So, you tell me.”

Erin groaned. He wouldn’t be the first director to sleep with his leading lady, but dammit... “Jason is too smart for that bullshit.”