Too Hot to Handle (5 page)

“Come on, Merry. Men don’t want a fantasy. They want something real.”

Merry frowned but tried to hide it by turning back to the coffeepot, which was trickling out that last little bit of caffeine. That was easy for Grace to say. Grace, in all her reality,
was
a fantasy. She was edgy and strong and striking. She intimidated men in a way that turned them on.

Merry, on the other hand, was a
friend
. A perpetual friend. The girl who always had a good joke and a smile.

She didn’t know how to be sexy. And it didn’t seem to be something she could learn, damn it.

“Whatever,” she finally said. “It doesn’t matter. My point is you don’t have to worry about Shane. Shit, I wish you did.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it. I’m sorry, I just… You came here because of me. I feel like I need to watch out for you.”

“Bullshit, Grace. You always say the same thing.”

Grace shrugged and pushed the mugs forward for coffee. “None of those guys have been good enough for you. You know that’s true.”

“Good Lord, I’m not the Virgin Mary. If he’s got a job and a penis, he’s already halfway up my scale. And I don’t really care about the job.”

Grace choked on laughter. “Shut up. That’s not true. It’d better not be true or you’re grounded, young lady.”

Merry just shook her head. “You’re the one who let me move into a place called the Stud Farm.”

Grace rolled her eyes, but Merry laughed as hard as she ever did at the joke.

The apartment building was really the two-story house of the old Studd farmstead, converted into four identical apartments, two on the ground floor, and two upstairs. She didn’t know if it had an official name, but everyone called it the Stud Farm after Aunt Rayleen’s tendency to fill it with single young men. Young compared to her, anyway.

When Grace had blown into town last year, even Rayleen hadn’t had the heart to send her away. She’d let Grace stay for a few weeks, and even though the old battleax tried to hide it, Merry could tell the woman loved her niece. She’d let Grace keep the apartment, and she’d let Merry move in, too, but the Stud Farm name would probably never go away.

Merry elbowed Grace. “Go take a shower while I fold up the bed. You’re probably filthy from last night. Which really pisses me off. I’m leaving in an hour, whether you’re ready or not.”

* * *

S
HANE
WALKED
DOWN
the hard-packed dirt road that ran through the center of Providence. Merry was sitting on the porch of one of the few buildings that still looked relatively safe. The porch beams weren’t canting off toward the east. The stairs were still intact. He hoped she’d chosen well. He’d hate for her to fall through the floorboards into the spider nests that undoubtedly filled the space beneath. He’d better check out that porch just to be sure.

She didn’t seem to have noticed him yet, so Shane took the chance to study her while she was so untypically still. Her dark hair looked black but he knew it was lighter than that. A deep brown like stained walnut. He’d never really had a preference in women’s looks, as far as blond versus brunette, but he couldn’t help noticing how striking she looked sitting there. Her tan skin looked pale in contrast to the curve of hair that fell over her cheek as she read, and her wide mouth was rosy-pink and tipped up in a small smile even in solitude. Merry was the perfect name for this strange girl.

At least she was smart enough to stay out of the sun. Even with her coloring, at this altitude she’d burn like hell, and her shoulders were totally exposed in the pink tank top she was wearing. So Merry was smart enough to stay out of the sun, but not smart enough to pay any attention to her surroundings. She had earbuds in her ears. Like every city person he’d ever met, she put more value on her electronics than the beauty that surrounded her.

He glanced toward the looming peaks of the Tetons, then back to Merry, her head bent over some sort of device. She couldn’t hear the crunch of his boots against the patches of gravel and dried grass, but he could hear the tinny echo of the music that leaked from her ears.

Shane sighed as he drew within five feet of the porch. She didn’t react. He stopped two feet from her and cleared his throat.

When she didn’t notice, he coughed.

Still nothing. Was she this vulnerable every day? Did she think there weren’t creeps and rapists in Wyoming? Hell, in addition to the residents, some of whom were pretty damn rough and mysterious, the place was crawling with strangers from all over the world.

Irritated by his own concern, Shane stepped forward and knocked on the porch rail. “Hello?”

Merry finally glanced up, and her whole body jerked in shock. “Ah!” she screeched, an iPad flying from her hands as if it were a bird startled into flight.

Her wide eyes left him to watch the thing tumble through the air and right over the railing. “Ah!” she screamed again.

She surged to her feet to stare in dismay at the cloud of dust rising up around her iPad. “Oh, my God! Oh, no!”

“Sorry. I tried to let you know I was here.”

The cord of her earbuds dangled impotently against the railing. “What?” she breathed.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought I’d come out this morning and get a head start on—”

She leaped into motion so quickly that he bit back his words in shock as she took the three porch steps in one quick leap and swooped up the dropped iPad.

“Sorry,” she breathed. “It’s the only thing keeping me sane out here.” When she cradled it like an injured baby, Shane doubted her claim of sanity. “I think it’s okay,” she breathed as she swiped one finger over the screen. “I think it’s okay.”

“Great,” he said dryly.

“Yes, it is great, isn’t it?” She finally looked directly at him and a wide smile spread over her face. “Hey, Shane! I didn’t expect to see you here this early!”

“So I gathered.”

She hugged her iPad tighter, and Shane tried not to notice the way her breasts pressed up, revealing a beautiful amount of cleavage above the thin cotton of her tank. He
tried
not to notice, but he failed miserably. He was a man, and there were breasts
right there
. Her skin wasn’t quite so tan where the shirt dipped down. It was pale and soft and gently rising, like—

“You’re all cowboyed up again,” she said.

He frowned a little at the delight in her voice. Did she think this was Disneyland, where people played dress-up and tried on a drawl?

“The hat,” she clarified.

“The hat is for shade. I’m not a cowboy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving a hand as her earbud cord bounced.

“What are we going to do today?”

“What are
we
going to do? This is so exciting!”

Oh, God. Fine. Shane took a deep breath and tried to let his grumpiness go as he followed Merry toward the saloon. He couldn’t put a finger on when it had sunk so deeply into his flesh. He used to be able to let a bad mood go. He used to be able to forget his family and the years of betrayals and stress. He could work to forget. Or hang out with friends. And if that didn’t work, there were always women. But the past year had made forgetting damned difficult.

“You should get some spurs!” she said, walking backward now. “A little jingling would really liven this place up.”

He opened his mouth to respond, then realized he had no idea what to say to that. “Right,” he finally said in defeat before closing his mouth again.

She nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

Shane suddenly had to consider that Providence might be a ghost town in an old episode of the
Twilight Zone
. It had to be. There was no other explanation for this odd woman plunked down in the middle of the dustiest part of Jackson Hole. There was no way to explain why she’d stumbled into his problems this way.

“I brought the estimates,” he said, then jumped forward to grab Merry as she tripped over her own feet and almost went down on her ass. “Hey. You okay?”

“Sure!” Her laugh tripped over itself like a broken toy.

Shane frowned, sensing there was something more there, but if her reaction was simple embarrassment at her clumsiness, he didn’t want to press further. When the warmth of her waist soaked into his fingers, Shane realized he was still holding her and stood back with an awkward pat of her ribs. “So…”

He slipped the envelope from his back pocket and handed it over. “There’s the estimate. Why don’t you take a look at that while I sort through the spare wood, then we’ll make a plan.”

Even as he spoke, Merry tore open the envelope and unfolded the papers. True fear twisted her brow into lines of tension.

Why? It wasn’t her money. Hell, he’d expect that spending the money of a trust would be damn fun, especially when you were irritatingly excited about the project in the first place. “Not what you expected?” he asked. He was experienced, and not cheap, but he didn’t think his hourly wage was exorbitant.

“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes darting over the page before she flipped to the next. “No, of course not. It’s…just…”

He kept his mouth shut, waiting for a clue as to what was going on. As he expected, Merry couldn’t bear the silence, and she jumped to fill it.

“It’s just… We’d better start with the first one. Just the porch. Then hopefully…”

Shane cocked his head.

“The thing is, can I pay you half now and half next month? I’m sorry. I don’t know how you normally do it, but I’m having a little trouble getting funds, uh, released.”

Whoa. Very interesting. So interesting that Shane finally found the strength to shove down his grumpiness and turn on the charm. This was exactly the kind of information he needed, and he needed it before Merry turned in an invoice. Shane would be fired quicker than he could say
legal espionage
.

So he smiled. And shifted a little closer. And turned on the Western charm that had worked before on cute tourist girls. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

“Nothing! I can pay you! It’s not that. It’s just…” The envelope slipped from her fingers, and Shane knelt to pick it up.

When he rose, he let his eyes drag over her body. There was nothing wrong with her body, after all. She wasn’t stick-thin like the rich women who rolled through town with skis and fur boots. She was strong and tall and curvy. As his gaze dragged over the curve of her hip, he was struck with the sudden thought of what she might look like naked, and got lost in that for a moment before he remembered his charm and turned his smile up.

“It’s just what?” he pressed.

Merry was watching him with slightly parted lips, as if she’d sensed his thoughts. “It’s just… The board members are…”

He tipped his head a little closer, holding her gaze as he slid the envelope back into her grasp. His fingers brushed over hers. He let them rest there, just beneath the angle of her knuckles.

And then there was her mouth. Those slightly parted lips. A little too wide for beauty, maybe, but suddenly so soft. And inviting. And…

Merry edged back, her eyes narrowing. “It’s nothing,” she said firmly, the words wedging distance between them.

Shane found himself standing there alone, blinking in surprise. “Huh?”

“It’s nothing. If you’re okay with half now and half later, you’ve got a deal.”

“Okay,” he said. “Sure.”

Merry smiled. “Perfect. Then get to work. What are you waiting for?”

Shane, charming smile still in place, found himself treated to the sight of Merry’s ass as she walked away from him. Her hips swung. Her ass tipped side to side. He watched. By the time she disappeared around the corner of the little house she’d claimed, Shane found himself shaking his head and wondering what had just happened.

CHAPTER FOUR

“
M
S
.
K
ADE
,
THIS
is Levi Cannon. We have a bit of a situation.”

Merry stood so quickly that her hair blew back. Phone clenched in a suddenly sweaty fist, she looked toward the makeshift parking area of Providence, then toward the saloon. How could they have found out so quickly? Maybe she could—

“Ms. Kade?”

“Yes. Hi, Mr. Cannon. What seems to be the problem?” The distant sound of boards being dropped filled up Merry’s ears. She ducked inside the little house she used as a base, so panicked she didn’t even look for spiderwebs first. One of them clung to her arm. She shook it like mad, swallowing her panicked cries.

“Mrs. Bishop—Kristen Bishop—came outside this morning to find that her mailbox had been destroyed.”

Merry sucked in air so quickly that she choked on it and started coughing. The mailbox must’ve tipped over in last night’s wind.

“Oh, don’t worry.
Destroyed
was her word. A little further investigation revealed that it had only been pulled from the ground and left in the dirt. Not exactly mayhem.”

“Right. I… That is…Mr. Cannon, I—”

“Kristen thinks it’s an act of retaliation.”

Merry snapped her mouth shut. Retaliation? She hadn’t been
that
mad. And she’d tried not to convey any anger at all to the arguing seniors.

“Personally I think a drunk cowboy ran into it, but the Bishop house is damned isolated, so she might have a point. She thinks it’s a warning.”

Merry’s throat finally unlocked. They didn’t know it was her.

She drew in a deep breath. “I can’t imagine that,” she managed to say. “Maybe it was bored teenagers. Mailboxes. Baseball bats. It happens.”

“It’s a ways out of town for joyriding. And nothing like this ever happened before we hired you. I can’t discount her suspicions.”

Right. Nothing like that had happened before they hired Merry. That was for damn sure. She cringed and chewed her thumbnail. “But why retaliation? I’m sure it’s nothing. I started two weeks ago, so the timing—”

“Oh, we just filed a new motion with the judge, letting her know that Providence is now actively being managed as a historic site. That was about a week ago, but it’s possible the other side just found out about it. You can’t think of anything else, can you? Maybe your work put you on their radar.”