icy crystals everywhere.
“What are you doing out in this?” Sally asked. “Come on in. Here, give me your coat. Come sit by the fire.”
“I just came by for—that is, I think I might have left my tool belt in the kitchen.”
“Your tool belt?” Sally asked, hanging up his coat as her friends paraded Clay to the chair closest to the fire.
Aimee dropped an afghan around his shoulders. Liberty offered him a glass of wine. He accepted the first, declined the second.
Sally stood in the foyer, unsure of what truck had just run over her.
“Uh…” Clay stood and shrugged off the blanket. “I remembered that I’d left it here. I might need it this weekend.” He nodded, and then strode through the plastic curtain to the kitchen.
Liberty leaned over the couch and spoke in a whisper to Sally. “Go talk to him. Ask him to be in the auction.”
Sally shook her head. Bad idea. With this guy’s volatile temperament, she didn’t feel it wise to put that kind of pressure on him.
“He’s gorgeous,” Kaylee whispered, staring where he stood beyond the translucent plastic. “Did you see that chest?”
“Looks aren’t everything,” Sally hissed in a low voice. She’d walked to the back of the couch, facing her friends with a determined stance. Deep down, she wondered if Clay had heard the rumors, or if he, too, bought into them. He didn’t seem the type.
Aimee tilted her head and gave Sally the fish eye. “He is eligible and we need one more to complete the auction line-up.”
“He certainly seems to have all the right equipment,” Liberty said, raising a brow.
Sally stopped the idea with an upturned hand. “He wouldn’t be interested, trust me.” All eyes raised to look past her as she felt the wall of pure male body heat step up behind her. She looked up over her shoulder and smiled.
***
Clay hadn’t realized Sally would be standing in the narrow path between the couch and the kitchen. The roomful of women staring at him, though, had him wondering what...or rather who , they’d been discussing. He was ex-Army. No fear. “Who wouldn’t be interested, and in what?” he asked.
In the dim light it was difficult to register their expressions, but his gut cautioned that he’d been the topic of their conversation.
Sally turned quickly on her heel and caught him off-guard as she faced him. She folded her arms over her chest. “We were just saying how you’d probably not be interested in participating in the Spring Buckle Ball charity auction.” Her words all but poked him in the chest with their absolute certainty.
Ah, yes, the infamous bachelor auction. It didn’t appear that Sally was too thrilled about him being involved. Understandably, given their falling out last fall. Things had been left unresolved, which seemed to suit them both, since they’d barely spoken in the last few months. Time had served to ease some of the tension he’d first felt after arriving at the ranch. And while he had the sense that Sally was the type to forgive the things he’d blurted in his out of control frustration and anger, she quite likely hadn’t forgotten.
He rubbed his hand over a days’ worth of stubble on his cheek. Not exactly the best-looking example of a bachelor candidate, but maybe not the worst. He thought about what Tyler had mentioned regarding Sally and was curious whether it was true. Not that he was interested. God, no. If true, he thought it was the most cockamamie idea he’d ever heard, not to mention irresponsible and dangerous.
He cleared his throat, glanced around the room at the indistinguishable faces, then looked down at Sally. Her chin raised in stubborn defiance barely cleared his shoulder, but positioned her tempting mouth at an excellent angle.
He blinked. He might be her saving grace. The only guy in town who wasn’t trying to audition for her crazy plan. If this gossip kept on the path it was headed, it was clear that every guy in a three-county radius could making life
“What are you doing out in this?” Sally asked. “Come on in. Here, give me your coat. Come sit by the fire.”
“I just came by for—that is, I think I might have left my tool belt in the kitchen.”
“Your tool belt?” Sally asked, hanging up his coat as her friends paraded Clay to the chair closest to the fire.
Aimee dropped an afghan around his shoulders. Liberty offered him a glass of wine. He accepted the first, declined the second.
Sally stood in the foyer, unsure of what truck had just run over her.
“Uh…” Clay stood and shrugged off the blanket. “I remembered that I’d left it here. I might need it this weekend.” He nodded, and then strode through the plastic curtain to the kitchen.
Liberty leaned over the couch and spoke in a whisper to Sally. “Go talk to him. Ask him to be in the auction.”
Sally shook her head. Bad idea. With this guy’s volatile temperament, she didn’t feel it wise to put that kind of pressure on him.
“He’s gorgeous,” Kaylee whispered, staring where he stood beyond the translucent plastic. “Did you see that chest?”
“Looks aren’t everything,” Sally hissed in a low voice. She’d walked to the back of the couch, facing her friends with a determined stance. Deep down, she wondered if Clay had heard the rumors, or if he, too, bought into them. He didn’t seem the type.
Aimee tilted her head and gave Sally the fish eye. “He is eligible and we need one more to complete the auction line-up.”
“He certainly seems to have all the right equipment,” Liberty said, raising a brow.
Sally stopped the idea with an upturned hand. “He wouldn’t be interested, trust me.” All eyes raised to look past her as she felt the wall of pure male body heat step up behind her. She looked up over her shoulder and smiled.
***
Clay hadn’t realized Sally would be standing in the narrow path between the couch and the kitchen. The roomful of women staring at him, though, had him wondering what...or rather who , they’d been discussing. He was ex-Army. No fear. “Who wouldn’t be interested, and in what?” he asked.
In the dim light it was difficult to register their expressions, but his gut cautioned that he’d been the topic of their conversation.
Sally turned quickly on her heel and caught him off-guard as she faced him. She folded her arms over her chest. “We were just saying how you’d probably not be interested in participating in the Spring Buckle Ball charity auction.” Her words all but poked him in the chest with their absolute certainty.
Ah, yes, the infamous bachelor auction. It didn’t appear that Sally was too thrilled about him being involved. Understandably, given their falling out last fall. Things had been left unresolved, which seemed to suit them both, since they’d barely spoken in the last few months. Time had served to ease some of the tension he’d first felt after arriving at the ranch. And while he had the sense that Sally was the type to forgive the things he’d blurted in his out of control frustration and anger, she quite likely hadn’t forgotten.
He rubbed his hand over a days’ worth of stubble on his cheek. Not exactly the best-looking example of a bachelor candidate, but maybe not the worst. He thought about what Tyler had mentioned regarding Sally and was curious whether it was true. Not that he was interested. God, no. If true, he thought it was the most cockamamie idea he’d ever heard, not to mention irresponsible and dangerous.
He cleared his throat, glanced around the room at the indistinguishable faces, then looked down at Sally. Her chin raised in stubborn defiance barely cleared his shoulder, but positioned her tempting mouth at an excellent angle.
He blinked. He might be her saving grace. The only guy in town who wasn’t trying to audition for her crazy plan. If this gossip kept on the path it was headed, it was clear that every guy in a three-county radius could making life
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