I am Not Your Melody: (steamy cowboy romance) (7 page)

“I’m not going away, Bill Edwards.”

At that, he shook his head. “I couldn’t pretend you didn’t exist if I tried. But I did ignore my responsibility. I sold you the job of takin’ care of renovations and day-to-day operations. It was the best I could do.”

She paused, thinking of the disgusting toilet upstairs, and the rats. “We need a plumber, and an exterminator. And you need to figure out what was stolen or damaged, write it down, and give me back my share of whatever it was. Cash.”

“All right,” he said slowly. “That’s fair.”

The expression on his face had gone from annoyed to… respectful? Did he respect her for sticking up for herself?

Well, good. It was something she’d have to do more of. Just like Ginger had said, she had to keep her chin up and not be scared of Big Bad Bill.

“Just so ya know,” he added, “any damage or theft — that was done by people I don’t know. Guys outside of town. The folks in Bear Creek Saddle would never disrespect Fred like that.”

Allie pointed to the graffiti that said
RIP Fred In Heaven!!!
and raised her eyebrow.

Bill nodded. “That’s not really vandalism… more of a… you know what I mean.”

Let him think what he wanted about how the bar got to the state it was in. That didn’t matter as much as the fact that she’d spent her life savings on a building she couldn’t live in, and needed far more work to renovate than he’d represented to her.

At least she’d get some cash back because of this, something she needed even more than she’d realized she would.

Allie shook her head. “And just so
you
know, I already do live, breathe and dream about this bar. I have ever since I contacted you on Craigslist.”

Her words must have softened him. He fingered the chain on the door, touching the cold metal with two long, calloused fingers.

“I should’ve taken better care of this place,” he admitted, his voice low. “But we’re gonna get everythin’ back to the way it was. It’s what we gotta do. What the town needs.”

If their previous emails meant anything, then getting the bar back to the way it was sounded like something that
Bill
needed, whether the town needed it too, or not.

Allie didn’t want everything to go back the way it was… She wanted her own vision, her own dream. Could they make it happen without killing each other first?

Bill Edwards, in person, bore little resemblance to the person he’d been online. In their emails, he’d been nice. Funny, even. He spoke well — or rather,
wrote
well —putting his thoughts out clearly to her. But in person, it was like he was being mean for no reason, as if out of habit.

Didn’t he remember? They were already… friends. Weren’t they?

Chapter Six

Allie followed Bill down the gravel walkway that led up to his home. More like a log cabin, really. It was small, with beautiful hand-hewn logs and a wraparound deck. In the area he had appropriated as his backyard, a vegetable garden and chicken coop took up most of the space. Tall wire fences surrounded both.

“Hey, did your tomatoes ever grow back after the moose incident?” Allie asked, referring to one of his old emails.

“Yup,” he said. “You shoulda seen that moose. She was so tall, she just bent her big head over the top of the wire there.”

“Did you stop her?”

Bill laughed. “Moose aren’t all that afraid of men. They know they’re bigger; they’ll just trample you if they want.” He raised his arms high above his head, demonstrating just how huge moose were.

“Whoa,” she said. “You’re gargantuan yourself, Big Bad Bill, so if the moose was even bigger, that’s scary.”

He put his arm around her shoulders in an unexpected display of affection. “See, I like how it sounds when
you
say it.”

She smiled up at him, not wanting him to move his arm away. If felt too good to be close to him. “Big, Bad, Bill…” she whispered, teasing.

“Little, Good, Allie,” he whispered back, his face close to hers.

This was what she loved, just talking with him, back and forth, no fighting, no agenda. When he wasn’t actively trying to be mean to keep his distance, he was a really great guy.

“You’re…too pretty,” he said, his voice low.

His lips pressed against hers, so warm, so soft. The stubble on his face rubbed against her skin, the sharpness of it contrasting with the gentleness of his kiss.

“No I’m not,” she said against his lips. “But…thank you.”

“You are,” he murmured, his kiss deepening.

The beautiful landscape around them, the mountains, the evergreens, the cabin and the chickens — it all disappeared. The only thing she could see was him, his handsome face, the taste of him. He pulled her against him possessively, running his hands over her curves on the outside of her clothing, exploring.

“Is it a bad idea, me sleeping here?” she asked.

It would be so counterproductive to her ambitions if she slept with him, as much as she wanted to. There was no way she’d be able to separate her feelings from the sex, and considering he was her partner in the bar, getting her heart broken again only a year after her husband left her — she couldn’t let that happen. Any relationship trouble they’d experience if they became a couple could adversely affect their business.

And that bar — it was her salvation.

“We have to stop,” she said. Gently, she put her hand on his chest and pressed.

If he hadn’t agreed to move away, he wouldn’t have budged. Pushing against him was like trying to move a mountain. But Bill was a gentleman, and stopped immediately.

“I’m sorry, Allie,” he said, concern flitting through his gray eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

She smiled and shook her head. “You didn’t ‘do’ anything ‘to me,’” she corrected. “We kissed. I was here too, and I wanted it. But it doesn’t matter how much we want it, we have to put the business first.”

“Right,” he said. He pulled his arm off of her, and gestured toward the house. “The bar comes first.”

He led the way up to his front door, and glanced back at his vegetable garden. “I had to stand there like a fool waitin’ for that moose to finish up eatin’ my tomatoes.” He laughed.

“Tallest plant, easy pickin’s,” Allie said, mimicking some of his accent with a smile.

She shook her hands. as if to dispel the sexual tension they’d built between them.
Don’t think about doing that again
. For all she knew, he was just trying to distract her from the fact that he’d let her apartment and bar go to hell. That she was only there at his house in the first place, because he had royally screwed her over.

Or maybe she only heard what she wanted to hear — that she could live in the apartment right away.

Bill pushed open his unlocked front door — apparently locking up after himself was a foreign concept — and gestured her inside.

The interior of the cabin was warm and homey. From the entranceway, she could see the entire house, even the little kitchen off to the right. It was so small she couldn’t imagine more than one person cooking in it at any time. An open area consisted of the living room and dining area, and what appeared to be bedrooms down a little hall.

“Nice place,” she said.

“Built it with my own hands,” he said, and smiled. Then, “Well, the guys helped quite a bit, too.”

His teeth were white and straight, and his whole face brightened without his permanent scowl. She needed to get him to smile more often. It certainly would make him easier to be around.

Allie smiled back at him. “Being able to build your own home is a good skill to have.” Realization dawned on her. “I guess that’s why you decided to help me with the renovations… you have more experience than I do.”

Bill put his hand on her lower back, just like he’d done in the bar. His touch made her stand up straighter, the sheer unexpectedness of it. Why did she like it so much? He guided her into the kitchen. There was barely enough room for them both, and once again Allie found herself in the position of being so physically close to Bill that their bodies kept touching accidentally, a brush here, a bump there.

He smelled of fresh hay, wood, and something indescribably sexy…perhaps that was just his natural musk. His body heat warmed her whenever her skin came within a few inches of him. While Bill had been acting before like he was ready to tear her head off in frustration at the bar, Allie was about ready to tear his clothes off after that kiss. She could only imagine how incredible his muscles would look without his shirt covering them…

Breathe
.

It had been too long since she’d been with a man, that was all. The way he kept getting into her space felt so intimate, so personal… almost sexual. And she liked it way too much to keep her own hormones from rising.

He swung the cabinet open, his bicep suddenly up right near her cheek.

“Mugs are up here,” he said, “an’ dishes.” He closed the cabinet and pointed to the sink. “Don’t leave dirty dishes laying around — wash ‘em as you go. I ain’t cleanin’ up after you.”

Allie looked up at him in confusion. He’d kissed her only moments ago, and she’d even admitted that she understood why he was going to help her renovate the bar. So why was he being prickly again?

Maybe he was just trying to diffuse the tension… to remind them both not to get too friendly. Well, it was working.

“I know how to clean up after myself,” she said.

“If you need to cook somethin’, don’t bang up my cabinets.”

Allie shook her head. “You seem to have mistaken me for a bull in a china shop. However have I managed all this time without your micro-managing?”

“You think this is micro-managin’? Wait till we get back to the bar,” he warned, his face close to hers. “You’ll have to earn my trust. You’re gonna have to prove to me you’re worth it.”

“I am worth it,” she said immediately.

“I bet,” he murmured.

Any anger she had melted with those words. He didn’t seem to be saying that sarcastically. His face was too close to hers to be anything but…sincere.

As if he realized just how close he’d gotten, Bill abruptly pulled back, knocking the back of his head on the cabinet behind him with a
thwack
.

“Oh no!” Allie gasped. “Are you okay?”

She reached her hand up to touch his head. Her fingertips grazed the ends of his dark hair, but Bill caught her wrist in his large hand.

“I’m fine,” he said. Slowly, he let go of her wrist. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to grab you like that. It was just instinct or somethin’.”

A look of genuine concern crossed his face, and he rubbed her wrist with his thumb.

“It’s fine,” she whispered.

“I um…” Bill shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Before the kitchen cabinet decided to attack me—”

“You can joke!” Allie interrupted, feigning shock. “The surprises just keep coming.”

“You’ll like this surprise, then,” he said. “When you open the oven door, it won’t go all the way.”

Allie laughed and pulled the oven door open, to see. Sure enough, it only opened just enough that she be able to get something in and out, no more, before hitting the cabinet behind her.

“Just a suggestion,” she said, “perhaps if you’re going to help me with the renovations, we should spend a little extra time focusing on measurements.”

She meant it as a lighthearted joke, but Bill shot her a warning look, as if she’d be sent to the principal’s office if she kept it up.

And once again, his hand was on her back, the heat of it burning through the thin material of her blouse as he led her back out of the kitchen. She stumbled a bit on her heels. So dumb to wear heels to a ranch. What had she been thinking? This man obviously didn’t care one bit about how she was dressed.

He walked her across the living room to the painted white door, and opened it. “You can stay in this room while you’re here,” he said.

Allie stepped inside the bedroom, looking around in surprise. The queen-sized bed was fitted with a rose floral comforter, and an iron bed frame. The dresser with the large mirror over it and the little accents around the room all spoke of a woman’s touch. But there was nothing that spoke of Bill in this room.

“Where are
you
going to sleep?” Allie asked, suddenly unsure of herself.

It seemed like this room must’ve been Melody’s. If it had been Melody’s, didn’t that mean it had been Bill’s, as well? Was he giving up his bedroom for her?

Bill took off his hat and set it on top of the dresser by the door. “I’m not gonna bother you,” he said, cocking his head. “You’ve made yourself clear enough. I’ll be all the way at the end of the hall, in my room. They may call me Big Bad Bill, but I’ll keep my hands to myself if it kills me.”

If it kills me? Interesting…

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said. “That wasn’t at all why I was asking where you would sleep. I didn’t think you were going to…barge in and ravish me or something.” She forced a laugh and looked away, first at the bed, then the window.

Look at anything but the bed
.

A strand of dark brown hair had fallen across Bill’s forehead. “Then why would you care where I’m sleepin’…unless it’s to make sure it won’t be in your bed?”

A flush heated Allie’s cheeks, and she focused on not looking at either him or the bed — hard to do in a tiny room filled only with him, and a bed.

Now she was certain she was blushing. How ridiculous. It took a lot to make her blush — so how could this cowboy affect her like that?

“This looks like your wife’s bedroom,” she said finally. “And if it was Melody’s bedroom, then I assumed it would be your bedroom, too. Since she was your wife and all.”

“That’s none of your business,” he growled. “If you think you’re gonna stay at my house, don’t you dare talk about her.”

Oh
hell
no —
he did not just say that
.

He left her alone in the bedroom, her mouth hanging open like fish. Allie stormed after him and — though she had no idea what possessed her to do such a thing — grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to turn him around to face her.