clean-shaven.”
“Well, there’s no way I’ll have that kind of scruff by tonight, either.” He sounded mildly irritated.
Puzzled by his tone, she put down her burger and looked at him. “I’m not expecting you to show up with a beard.”
“That’s good.” Instead of meeting her gaze, he pretended great interest in his pile of French fries before finally choosing one.
“Is something bothering you?”
“I just hope to hell this isn’t about the calendar.” He looked at her. “Because that’s not who I am.”
“What do you mean by this ?”
“What’s going on between you and me.”
“Oh.” Now she felt a little guilty for all the times she’d stared at the calendar and fantasized about him.
“You see, Dominique—she’s the photographer—wanted a certain look, especially because I’d be on display first and the picture needed to be a grabber. She suggested the scruff and setting up our session at dawn. Then she kept shooting until she got the expression she wanted, as if I’d just rolled out of bed and left behind a very satisfied woman.”
Whitney hadn’t consciously thought about it, but now that he’d described the intent behind the shot, she had to agree the subtle implication was there. “She nailed it.”
“Apparently. I’ve been propositioned by women who expect me to be... I don’t know. Out of the ordinary. I’m not.”
Her heart ached for him. She’d never considered that such a sexy image would create an unrealistic expectation, or that it would bother him that he might not live up to it. “I was attracted to you long before I saw that calendar.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She laid a hand on his arm. His very warm, solid arm. Squiggles of excitement danced in her stomach. “Knowing you’re a lawyer who’s also a cowboy on the side is kind of fun, but I would have asked you to help with my tree even if I’d never seen that calendar.”
He studied her for a moment, and then he let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry.” He covered her hand with his. “I probably overreacted. It’s been a long four months.”
“I can tell. But it’s almost over.”
“Thank God.”
“And I know for a fact you created interest in the program.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself, and that does help, but it’s somebody else’s turn.” He glanced at a clock hanging on the wall and squeezed her hand. “Better eat up. Time’s flying.”
“Right.” She dived into her meal and vowed not to mention the calendar ever again.
But she thought Ty’s view of himself as ordinary was way off the mark. He’d survived losing both parents and from all indications was doing well in a demanding profession. She didn’t see anything ordinary about him.
Besides, that cocky grin the photographer had coaxed out of him had come from somewhere. It wouldn’t hurt for him to let that devilish streak out once in a while. She wouldn’t mind being around when he did.
6
O N THE DRIVE back to the ranch, Ty saw Rosie’s truck up ahead. She must have finished with her Christmas shopping. If he passed her, he could beat her to the rural mailbox so she wouldn’t have to stop for the mail. He couldn’t save her the trouble every day, but he could do her a favor this afternoon.
She didn’t drive fast, so catching up and passing wasn’t tough. He beeped the horn on his way around and she honked back. Turning in at the ranch road, he glanced at the new sign Damon and Phil had made last summer.
THUNDER MOUNTAIN RANCH was carved into a slab of wood suspended between two sturdy posts about five feet high. Hanging beneath it was a smaller painted sign announcing Home of Thunder Mountain Academy,and under that hung an evergreen wreath decorated with pinecones and a big red waterproof bow. Both signs and the wreath looked as if someone had decided to add some whipped cream to the top edges.
Parking carefully along the side of the snow-packed dirt road, Ty climbed out and took a picture with his
“Well, there’s no way I’ll have that kind of scruff by tonight, either.” He sounded mildly irritated.
Puzzled by his tone, she put down her burger and looked at him. “I’m not expecting you to show up with a beard.”
“That’s good.” Instead of meeting her gaze, he pretended great interest in his pile of French fries before finally choosing one.
“Is something bothering you?”
“I just hope to hell this isn’t about the calendar.” He looked at her. “Because that’s not who I am.”
“What do you mean by this ?”
“What’s going on between you and me.”
“Oh.” Now she felt a little guilty for all the times she’d stared at the calendar and fantasized about him.
“You see, Dominique—she’s the photographer—wanted a certain look, especially because I’d be on display first and the picture needed to be a grabber. She suggested the scruff and setting up our session at dawn. Then she kept shooting until she got the expression she wanted, as if I’d just rolled out of bed and left behind a very satisfied woman.”
Whitney hadn’t consciously thought about it, but now that he’d described the intent behind the shot, she had to agree the subtle implication was there. “She nailed it.”
“Apparently. I’ve been propositioned by women who expect me to be... I don’t know. Out of the ordinary. I’m not.”
Her heart ached for him. She’d never considered that such a sexy image would create an unrealistic expectation, or that it would bother him that he might not live up to it. “I was attracted to you long before I saw that calendar.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She laid a hand on his arm. His very warm, solid arm. Squiggles of excitement danced in her stomach. “Knowing you’re a lawyer who’s also a cowboy on the side is kind of fun, but I would have asked you to help with my tree even if I’d never seen that calendar.”
He studied her for a moment, and then he let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry.” He covered her hand with his. “I probably overreacted. It’s been a long four months.”
“I can tell. But it’s almost over.”
“Thank God.”
“And I know for a fact you created interest in the program.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself, and that does help, but it’s somebody else’s turn.” He glanced at a clock hanging on the wall and squeezed her hand. “Better eat up. Time’s flying.”
“Right.” She dived into her meal and vowed not to mention the calendar ever again.
But she thought Ty’s view of himself as ordinary was way off the mark. He’d survived losing both parents and from all indications was doing well in a demanding profession. She didn’t see anything ordinary about him.
Besides, that cocky grin the photographer had coaxed out of him had come from somewhere. It wouldn’t hurt for him to let that devilish streak out once in a while. She wouldn’t mind being around when he did.
6
O N THE DRIVE back to the ranch, Ty saw Rosie’s truck up ahead. She must have finished with her Christmas shopping. If he passed her, he could beat her to the rural mailbox so she wouldn’t have to stop for the mail. He couldn’t save her the trouble every day, but he could do her a favor this afternoon.
She didn’t drive fast, so catching up and passing wasn’t tough. He beeped the horn on his way around and she honked back. Turning in at the ranch road, he glanced at the new sign Damon and Phil had made last summer.
THUNDER MOUNTAIN RANCH was carved into a slab of wood suspended between two sturdy posts about five feet high. Hanging beneath it was a smaller painted sign announcing Home of Thunder Mountain Academy,and under that hung an evergreen wreath decorated with pinecones and a big red waterproof bow. Both signs and the wreath looked as if someone had decided to add some whipped cream to the top edges.
Parking carefully along the side of the snow-packed dirt road, Ty climbed out and took a picture with his
Similar Books
