Straight to the Heart

“That’s tough. Well, the job is yours as long as you want it.”

She smiled in relief. He’d bought it. She was in.

“Thanks. I really appreciate that. And the trade on rent. I really didn’t want to find a motel, and the nearest one is ten miles down, from what Charlie said,” she added. “And you know, with gas prices so high …”

“It’s good that someone’s using the apartment. Anything you need up there? It didn’t come with much.”

“I don’t need much. Though I do have to find a discount store to buy a few fans. It’s hot at night,” she said, absently moving a loose strand of hair from her cheek.

He followed the movement closely, and she was surprised to feel an answering sizzle of interest in her own bloodstream.

“I may have an extra one or two at my house. I can bring them up tonight.”

“No need, I—”

“No problem. Supposed to be over one hundred tomorrow. No point in being uncomfortable up there. It’s a small space as it is.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “Is that all?”

“Yeah, for now. Thanks,” he said, standing, so she did too.

She was nearly his height, but he still was a few inches taller than her five-eleven and considerably more massive.

Still, she’d taken down guys his size and couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to wrestle with Ben Callahan.

Before she gave anything away, she shelved that thought and turned toward the door, leaving without another word.

Ben Callahan was smart and perceptive. She had her work cut out for her, Joanna knew, walking through the kitchen and back up the stairs to her small apartment. She had to pull this off; her career and his life, potentially, counted on it.

No pressure at all.

2

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, BEN watched Joanna from the kitchen door, following the perfect shape of her ass in those jeans as she worked the lunch crowd as though she’d been doing it for years.

He stopped gawking to go help at the bar, serving up beers and getting into the flow and rhythm of the lunch hour, which didn’t leave time to think about much else. Except when he handed a tray of drinks and sandwiches to Joanna who took them with a polite, businesslike smile and turned away.

His thoughts were not as businesslike every time he thought about those long, long legs.

She’d checked out, though. He’d run his own background check, run her car, called a few people, and nothing seemed out of place. So, for now, he was just enjoying the view, he thought with a smile as he watched her walk away.

He hadn’t kept his promise about bringing the fans up to her the night before, and she hadn’t said a word about it. He knew the apartment was hotter than a sauna in mid-summer, but she didn’t complain or make demands.

Truth was, his fans weren’t going to help much, and so he’d driven into Midland the evening before to buy an air-conditioning unit for the space, and had gotten back too late to bring it up to her. He planned to install it today.

“You have the look of a starving man, bucko,” Charlie said with a laugh, sidling up beside him. “And Joanna looks like dinner.”

“You’re imagining things, Charlie.”

“No, I’m not. Been a while since you hooked up with anyone. Do you some good,” Charlie, always the practical one, said. “She looks like she could give you a good—”

“Don’t,” Ben said, cutting his friend off a little more harshly than he meant to, and then slapped his buddy’s shoulder to ease the words. “I need a waitress more than I need to get laid,” Ben said, turning away.

“Says you,” Charlie said, grabbing a bucket of glasses to carry out back.

Ben had been in a less than cheerful mood recently. He couldn’t wait for this damned trial to be over with so he could return to his life. The noise in the bar softened as the lunch crowd started thinning, as workers from the local ranches and other businesses headed to their jobs.

Joanna returned to the bar, took a seat, a thin shine of perspiration on her forehead as she smiled at him. He liked her dark, espresso-brown eyes. She was friendly with the customers, but didn’t flirt—with him, either, though there was chemistry between them—no doubt about that. There was a seriousness about her that suggested depth, and he suddenly wanted to know what books she read, what movies she liked. In the next second, he pulled those thoughts out by the root. This wasn’t a good time, and fooling around with the help was never a good idea.

Ben pushed a glass with ice and a soda across the bar at her and pretended not to notice the slim muscles in her arms, or the delicate arch of her throat as she drank it.

“Can I get you some lunch?” he asked.

“In a little while. I have to help Lisa finish cleaning up, but thanks for the drink. Hot today, even in here, with the AC.”

“Yeah, speaking of that, I’m sorry I didn’t bring the fans up last night, but I went into the city and got an AC unit instead. I can put that in today. It should help a lot. Fans would just push the hot air around.”

She looked sincerely surprised, like someone who didn’t expect people to do nice things for her.

“Hey, hot as it is, it’s a million times better than my car,” she joked with a grin.

“It’s no problem. I should have done it a while ago. If you want, I can go up and put it in while you’re helping Lisa, and—”

“No, really, it’s fine if you want to just wait until later,” she said quickly.

He paused. There it was again, that itchy feeling that something was off.

“I mean, I’m kind of a slob. I don’t want you walking in when I’d left stuff all over the floor, you know, laundry and that kind of thing,” she said with a self-effacing grin.

He relaxed again. “Sure, no problem. Tonight’s fine,” he agreed.

Ben supposed that made sense. It was her space for as long as she was renting, and it wasn’t unreasonable not to want a stranger pawing through her things, not that he would. Considering the relationship she was in before now, he couldn’t blame her for being apprehensive.

“Thanks for the drink. I’m going to go help Lisa,” she said, slipping from the chair and walking back to the kitchen.

Ben put the glass he had been polishing for the past ten minutes back on the shelf behind the bar and closed his eyes, taking a breath and trying to focus. He was rarely this scattered, but Joanna was very distracting.

Maybe Charlie was right. Maybe he should do something about that. It wasn’t good policy to sleep with the help, and she was bouncing off a bad relationship—not the best situation for either of them—but his mind kept traveling back to the same idea.

And he kept pushing it aside. There were plenty of women around to sleep with, if that’s what he wanted, but he needed Joanna on the job.

That was a shame, he thought, as she came back out from the kitchen carrying a tray of freshly filled ketchup bottles, the motion of it deepening the slight cleavage at the edge of her tank top.

A real shame.

JOANNA DUSTED HER HANDS OFF ON her jeans, feeling better as she made her way around the small, basic apartment where dust had collected everywhere. She hadn’t had much time to clean or set the place up yet, and so she worked off some excess energy doing so now.

Changing into her comfortable jeans and a loose white T-shirt was nirvana, shucking the boots for a pair of well-broken-in sandals. Her job took her everywhere, but having her comfortable clothes with her was how she felt at home wherever she was, and this was no different.