Summer Days Read online

  He checked in with his office regularly. Ms. Jennings kept him informed on the most important projects. His days usually consisted of meetings and negotiations, contracts and travel. At the end of twelve or fourteen hours, he’d done plenty but couldn’t point to any one thing that had been finished. When a deal finally closed, he was already so deep into the next one, he rarely stopped to notice, let alone celebrate.

  He’d thought being stuck in Fool’s Gold would be like serving time in hell. Maybe it would come to that, but today it hadn’t been too bad.

  His cell phone rang. He pulled it from his shirt pocket. “Stryker.”

  “Miss me?”

  He grinned at his friend’s words. “No.”

  Dante chuckled. “How wrong you are, and you’ll know it, too, when I tell you what happened today.”

  Dante explained how he’d filed court documents, charmed a judge and done his best to once again make sure the company didn’t just win, but also crushed the opposition.

  “Impressive,” Rafe said, then took a swallow of his beer.

  Instead of paying attention to the details that would gain him millions, he found himself listening to the sounds from inside. The low rumble of conversation and the familiar intro music to his mother’s favorite game show. Heidi had gone upstairs after dinner. Would she come down again later?

  Except for raving about his mother’s lasagna, Heidi had been silent at the table. She hadn’t looked at him once and had resisted any attempts at conversation. May had fussed over her, wondering if she didn’t feel well. Rafe suspected Heidi’s actions were more about what she’d said yesterday than any health issues.

  When had she started thinking about them sleeping together? And, while it was all fine and good that she’d decided she wouldn’t sleep with him, her announcement had had the opposite effect on him. He’d been unable to think about much else.

  “You’re not listening to me,” Dante said.

  “Sorry. Distractions.”

  “Goats?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “A woman?”

  “Any other business?” Rafe asked.

  “That’s a yes. Goat girl? She’s not your type.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Since your divorce, you’ve preferred a different kind of woman. Beautiful, sure, but the kind who wouldn’t know a real emotion if it bit her on the ass. Heidi’s different.”

  “When did you become an expert?”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  Rafe pushed the button to end the call, then slipped the phone back into his shirt pocket. He took another swallow of his beer, knowing Dante was right. Heidi wasn’t like the other women who drifted in and out of his life. She was more down-to-earth. Besides, his plans for the ranch included making sure his mother owned it and Heidi didn’t. All the more reason to avoid her.

  The screen door opened, and the woman on his mind stepped out, into the rapidly cooling evening air. She walked onto the porch, then came to a stop when she saw him.

  “Oh, sorry.” She started to turn around.

  “Wait.” He moved to the side on the step, making room for her. “Join me.”

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  Her gaze darted around the porch, as if searching for an excuse to say no, then she sighed, and moved toward him.

  She sat down, holding herself stiffly. The scent of vanilla drifted to him. For once, her blond hair was loose rather than in the braids she favored. She wore a long-sleeved T-shirt over jeans and boots. Nothing sexy or enticing. Nothing that should have appealed to him. Yet he was aware of her, of how it would be to close the distance and have her lean against him.

  “The fence looks good,” she said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Glen said you worked hard.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  She glanced at him, then faced front again. “You seem like more of a manager.”

  “Better at giving orders than taking them?”

  Her mouth turned up in a smile. “We both know that’s true.”

  “Fair enough, but I can put in a fence if I have to. Until now, I’ve done my best to make sure I don’t have to.”

  She wasn’t wearing any makeup, he realized as he stared at her. Her skin looked soft, as did her mouth. He lowered his gaze to her hands. Short nails and a few calluses. She worked hard with her hands.

  “May said you’ve found someone to take the cows,” she said.

  He picked up the bottle and took a drink. “The price is fair. He’ll be by in a couple of days to get them.”

  “They’re going to end up on someone’s dinner table, aren’t they?”

  “Is that concern I hear in your voice?”

  She sighed. “I don’t want them hurt. I just don’t want them here. Maybe a zoo would take them.”

  He swallowed just then and started to choke. She watched him anxiously until he’d recovered.

  “You okay?”

  He nodded and cleared his throat. “You want to offer your wild cows to a zoo?”

  “I can’t think of them being killed and eaten.”

  “Where do you think your steaks come from?”

  “That’s different. I don’t know those cows.”

  “You don’t know these, either. You’re scared of them. Heidi, it’s a lot of money.” He told himself not to remind her of that again. After all, every cent she made would go toward paying off his mother. If she got enough together, she might be able to sway the judge.

  “Let me think about it. If he would promise not to kill them, then I would be okay with it.”

  “What’s he supposed to do with your herd?”

  “You’re being logical. I just want to have my goats and not deal with other animals. At least not the kind you eat.”

  “People eat goats.”

  “Not mine.”

  “Your goats do have a good life here.”

  Heidi told herself that her awareness of the evening came from the natural beauty of the surroundings and the quiet of the night. The goats had already settled down, the birds had nested and the crickets were out. She was one with nature. She was calm.

  Then Rafe shifted on the step and she jumped. Her heart thudded so loudly, she was surprised the crickets didn’t all scream in terror, assuming crickets made any sound other than the chirpy one.

  So much for being calm.

  It wasn’t her fault, she told herself. It was what she’d said before. About not sleeping with him. Now he knew she’d been thinking about it. The man had an ego the size of the Grand Canyon. He probably thought she was desperate to have him in her bed, when the truth was she’d only been thinking about sex as a way to convince him to not take her ranch. A really dumb idea, especially considering she was reasonably sure she wasn’t good enough—bed-wise—to convince him of anything.

  “Heidi?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You okay? You look like maybe you’re in pain.”

  “I’m fine.” Or she would be. Eventually. “Dinner was great.”

  “That’s what you were thinking about?”

  “No, but that’s the conversational gambit I’m putting forth.”

  He angled toward her, his leg now millimeters from her thigh. “You can do better than talking about my mom’s lasagna.”

  “Fine. Do you miss San Francisco?”

  “Yes.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re in my hometown. You could at least pretend to have to think about your answer.”

  “Why? I like living in the city.”

  “The shopping and access to the ballet?”

  One
corner of his sexy, well-shaped, come-kiss-me mouth turned up. She found her attention very much settled on his mouth, and wondered what it would feel like against her own. If he, you know, wanted to—

  She mentally slammed the door on those thoughts and stared out at the barn. The silhouette was very meaningful, she told herself. Or at least safer than Rafe.

  “I like fine dining and easy access to work.”

  “Missing the corporate lifestyle?”

  “Yes. I don’t have enough power here. I’m not a ranch hand, I’m a power broker.”

  Despite her awareness and the steady hum of need that had taken up residence inside her belly, she laughed. “Maybe you should go back. To make sure everything is okay.”

  “I have staff. They make sure everything is okay.”

  “Must be nice.”

  “It is.”

  “Are you rubbing in your richness? I’m very aware that you could buy and sell me a hundred times over. It doesn’t matter. I’m not a city girl. And I don’t like townies.”

  “Townies? You don’t seriously call people that.”

  “Yes. They live in towns. They’re different.” Some of them had hurt her best friend, and Heidi knew she would never get over that.

  “You should embrace townies,” Rafe told her. “They buy your cheese.” He leaned back against the railing. “What markets are you in?”

  She blinked at the question. “You mean like, what are the names of the stores that sell my cheese?”

  The smile returned. “No. What market segments do you find most profitable? Organic, local, wine stores?”

  “Oh.” She folded her hands together on top of her thighs. The faint tingling had faded, leaving her feeling uneasy and inadequate. “I sell in town. To places I can deliver to. During the festivals, I usually set up a booth.”

  His expression remained expectant, as if he thought she was saving the best for last.

  “That’s pretty much it.”

  “How are you going to make a living doing that? You need to expand your market. Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s are obvious, but what about smaller organic and specialty chains? You’re within a few hours of San Francisco, and not that much farther from L.A. Both could be huge markets for you. Plenty of upscale stores, with shoppers interested in buying local and organic. You could try the food shows. Trade shows. Hell, send samples to Rachael Ray. What about your sales reps? What do they say?”

  “You’re the only one out here with staff. I can’t afford to pay someone to sell my cheese.”

  “It’s the only way you’re going to take things to the next level. Otherwise, you’ll be scrambling to pay the bills forever. One decent rep could pay for him- or herself in three months. You could put the rest of your profits back into the business. There are dozens of markets. Of course, that assumes you have extra cheese to sell.”

  “I do.”

  “Then—”

  He stopped talking suddenly, as if aware of what he was doing. Helping the enemy. Because if she became successful, she could pay back his mother and win the case.

  “All good ideas,” she admitted. “I’ll think about them.” Because they were smart business moves. Not that he had to worry, because even if she started right now, she couldn’t have them up and running in time. It wasn’t as if the judge was going to give her six or eight months.

  “Heidi, I—” He stopped and shook his head.

  She waited.

  She thought he would tell her she couldn’t use his ideas, or that even if her business grew to be the size of Kraft foods, he would still win, or that she was completely out of her league with him. Instead, he muttered something she couldn’t quite hear, then leaned forward, grabbed her by her upper arms and kissed her.

  She was so startled, she couldn’t react, really couldn’t even feel what was happening. Her brain couldn’t wrap itself around the action. Kissing her? Rafe? Why?

  But instead of trying to answer the question, she became aware of the warmth—no, the heat—of his lips on hers. Of how they seemed to fit together. His kiss was firm—he was obviously in charge. Yet there was an unexpected gentleness. He offered rather than took and, as crazy as it sounded, she sensed he wanted her to yield. As if her giving in, her surrender, was important.

  Somewhere during the first flash of confusion, she closed her eyes. In the darkness, she felt his mouth moving against her. Instinctively, she leaned toward him, raising her arms to his shoulders. His shirt was smooth, his muscles hard. His hands dropped to her waist. She felt the pressure of each individual finger.

  Against her mouth, the kiss lingered; heat grew. She told herself to pull back, that Rafe was dangerous to her on more levels than she could count. That, in any circumstance, he played to win, and she rarely played at all. Yet she couldn’t seem to get the message to her body. Maybe because being close to him felt so good. She gave in to the inevitable and tilted her head, then parted her lips.

  He swept inside, claiming her with a deep kiss that stirred long-dormant needs. Her blood moved more quickly. Her breasts began to ache and between her thighs a telltale throbbing pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

  As his tongue danced with hers, he moved his hands up and down her back. His touch was part caress, part promise. She got lost in the sensations, wanted him to touch other places, to cup her breasts and maybe slip lower.

  He broke the kiss, then pressed his lips against her jaw. From there, he trailed his way to her neck, then her collarbone. Lips teased, teeth scraped, each action making her shiver and ache and need. Wanting grew, until she was ready to grab his hands and place them where she wanted them most. Right at this second, being really stupid sounded like the best plan ever.

  She’d barely moved her arms to grab his wrists when his phone rang. She heard the shrill sound, felt the vibration in his shirt pocket and jumped back. Her eyes flew open.

  Rafe pulled out the phone. She saw his thumb hit the ignore button, but not before she saw the name on the screen.

  Nina.

  “Girlfriend?” she asked into the silence that followed.

  As usual, Rafe’s expression was unreadable, his dark gaze steady as he looked at her.

  “No.”

  She waited. Whoever the woman was, she was important enough to be in Rafe’s contact list. While it was too late for Heidi to take back the kiss, it wasn’t too late to find out how dumb she’d been.

  “My matchmaker.”

  She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than a girlfriend. Better, she decided. He wasn’t involved. He was looking to get into a relationship, but not with anyone like her, of course. Which was fine. She wasn’t interested in him, either. Despite the evidence to the contrary.

  She managed to stand and step back onto the porch. She crossed to the screen door and opened it.

  “You should call her back,” she said, pleased her voice was so calm. “It might be important.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  RAFE HEARD HEIDI HEADING DOWN the stairs. He didn’t have to glance at the clock to know it was still early. The pale light at the edge of the curtains warned him that most people were still sound asleep. He waited until he heard the back door close, then got up and quickly dressed.

  It had been three days since he’d kissed her. Three days of her carefully avoiding him, and his mother watching, as if aware there was a problem. He hadn’t mentioned the kiss to May, and he would bet money Heidi hadn’t said anything to her grandfather, either. But still, May had guessed something had happened. He made it a point to avoid talking about his personal life with his mother, so he had a problem. The only way he could see to fix it was to get things back to normal with Heidi.

  He walked down the stairs, through the living room and kitchen, and out back. Heidi was already in the goat house. As he crossed the ya
rd, he saw three cats scampering in front of him. They slipped through the partially open door, and he followed.

  Heidi was already milking Athena when he arrived. The three cats were sitting, watching her.

  “When did you get cats?” he asked.

  Heidi didn’t look up from the rhythmic movements of her hands. Milk flowed steadily into the gleaming metal bucket.

  “They’re not mine. They show up when I milk. I don’t know how they know.”

  He studied her movements, wondering if he could master the art of goat milking. Not a lot of call for that skill in his world.

  “Can I help?”

  She snorted. “I don’t think so.”

  He counted the goats obviously waiting for their turns. There were only six. “You’re not milking all of them?”

  “Two are pregnant. No milking then.”

  “How often do they get pregnant?”

  “Generally once a year.”

  He knew this meant there was a fair amount of nonmilking time with each goat. “That cuts into your cheese making.”

  “I know. I need to expand the herd a little more, but not so much that it’s unmanageable.”

  He wanted to ask if she’d thought about their conversation, the advice he’d given her. He might not know much about goats, but he did know business, and the principles of selling were universal.

  “Will you keep any of the kids?” he asked.

  “Probably not. I’d rather expand the bloodline. I know a few breeders. I might be able to work a trade.”

  She finished with Athena. The goat stepped away. The next took her place. Heidi carefully washed the udders before starting to milk again.

  “If you still have the name of that guy, I’m willing to sell the steers,” she said, concentrating on her work.

  “I’ll call him. He was available to come by this week.”

  “Good.”

  Heidi worked efficiently, neither of them speaking. What had happened before—the kiss—hung between them.