Wishing for the Rancher’s Love (High Country Ranch #5)

Chapter 8

8

Grady stood at the end of the upstairs hallway and peered through the window down into the alley, his eyes fully adjusted to the darkness.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to see at the midnight hour, but the truth was, he couldn’t slumber. Not with his door wide open and Clementine lying in the guest room bed only a dozen steps away.

The good Lord knew he’d tried to fall asleep. He’d tried for at least an hour. But all he’d done was toss and turn while his mind endlessly replayed the kiss with her.

And the good Lord knew he’d tried to keep from thinking about that kiss too, but he couldn’t think about anything else. He’d thought about it while going back over to her apartment to gather the clothing and other items she needed. He’d thought about it while showing her upstairs to her room. He’d thought about it when she’d turned out her light and said goodnight.

Even now, as he stood silent as a sentry, his mind was filled with the kiss.

He released a tight sigh that did nothing to release the tension in his body. He shouldn’t have looked at her in the bed. It had only made things worse.

She’d been lying on her side facing the door, which had given him a clear view of her in her nightgown with her long hair unbound and flowing all around her. The irritation and frustration that often lined her features had been gone. Instead, her face had been peaceful and soft, her long lashes resting against her cheeks.

He could admit, he liked this version of her. It reminded him of the friendly relationship they’d shared when they were younger, when she’d looked up at him with admiration in her eyes.

If he were really honest with himself, he knew he was the reason she’d lost her admiration, the reason why she was irritated and frustrated so much of the time. Because he’d changed. He’d grown up. And he’d let his own issues—anger and pettiness—crowd her out of his life.

What had caused his anger and pettiness? He couldn’t remember anymore. But he did know she hadn’t done anything to cause him to be angry. Or at least, not directly.

He started to lean against the wall, but at a movement in the shadows down in the alley, he tensed and stared at the spot carefully.

Had he actually seen someone slinking around behind the store? Or was it a wild creature trying to get into a trash bin?

He scanned the area, hoping he was hidden enough behind the curtain that, if someone was out there, they wouldn’t be able to see him watching the back of the store and the side stairway that led to the upstairs room.

The note from earlier had disturbed him more than he’d admitted to Clementine or even his dad. He hated the thought that a man had crept into her room while she was asleep and unaware of the danger.

At the thought of what could have happened, his heartbeat stumbled again, just as it had when he’d read the note the first time. Thankfully, the stranger hadn’t harmed Clementine in any way.

But what would he try the next time?

Grady didn’t even want to think about it. If he had his way, he’d lock Clementine in the house until they figured out who was leaving her the notes. But he couldn’t cage her away forever. And he couldn’t stay awake every night, staring out the window and waiting for her secret admirer to show himself.

So what should he do?

“Grady?” came her sleepy voice behind him.

He shifted away from the window to find her standing in the hallway just outside the guest room. Although the darkness mostly shrouded her, he could see her slender frame in the moonlight that illuminated the night. Her hair tumbled over her nightgown, falling nearly to her waist, her arms hugged her chest, and her bare feet poked out from underneath the hem.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Everything was wrong, including the fact that she was in his house at night, standing only a few feet away and looking bed-tousled.

He didn’t want the heat from earlier to fan to life again, but it did anyway. This time it was a slow burning that began to pulse through his blood.

She rubbed at her eyes, then glanced to the window. “Is someone outside?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

She started to cross to him and the window, too stubborn to take his word on the matter.

“No, Clementine.” He held out a hand to stop her.

“I have a right to know if I’m in danger.”

“You’ll be in danger from me if you don’t stop.”

She scoffed. “I doubt that.”

He stepped more fully in front of the windows, guessing that if an intruder in the alley hadn’t known he was there, they would now. “Go back to bed.”

She halted mere inches away and smelled pretty, like flowers—probably the soap he’d brought over with her other toiletries. “If you don’t have to go to bed, why do I?”

He didn’t want to explain to her why he was awake at the late hour—that it was because of his worry over her as well as his runaway thoughts of their kiss. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she could unravel him so easily.

And why, exactly, was he letting her unravel him?

He stiffened his shoulders. He was acting like a besotted fool, and he had to put an end to the rapidly mounting attraction before it gained too much power over him.

“Do you ever listen?” He let testiness infuse his tone.

“When it suits me.”

It was his turn to scoff. “Maybe if you’d learned to listen, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

She dropped a fist to her waist, which only served to highlight the curve of her hip beneath the nightgown. “Are you saying this is all my fault?”

“I’ve warned you to stop flirting, that it would get you into trouble. And now here we are.”

Her nightgown was slipping down one shoulder, leaving a bare patch of skin exposed. His fingers tensed with the need to graze that spot, to test how soft it was, to feel her shiver with pleasure.

Not that she would shiver with pleasure with him. Not when she could hardly stand being around him half the time.

Even so, she’d kissed him back, which meant she must have felt some of the same attraction he’d felt. What would she think if he bent down, brushed aside her hair, and kissed that curve in her shoulder? Would she push him away?

He growled at himself and then gave a curt shake of his head. She was too beautiful standing there all fiery and provoked, and he needed her to go back to her room, crawl into bed, and stay far away from him.

In fact, he had to say something that would put the barriers back up between them so that he would stop thinking of her as someone desirable. “As far as I’m concerned, you need to stop trying so hard with fellows. It makes you look desperate.”

She stiffened. “Desperate?”

“You know what I think?”

“No. I don’t care—”

“I think you’re trying so hard because you can’t stand that Clarabelle is married and you aren’t.”

Her expression turned icy. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

“I’m right this time.” Talking about Clarabelle was an easy way to push Clementine away. She was sensitive about her twin and always had been, and she would stomp off in a matter of seconds.

“You’re arrogant and self-absorbed.” She retreated a step. “And I don’t like you.”

“Oh, you like me. And that’s why you came out here into the hallway. Because you wanted to kiss me again.” There. If she wasn’t already mad enough, she would be livid now.

“Kiss you again?” Her tone rose, no longer a whisper.

His dad slept in the bedroom downstairs, but in the silence of the night, no doubt he would hear their argument if he were awake. He’d heard plenty of their disagreements in the past, but Grady prayed he’d stay asleep and oblivious to this particular conversation.

“I regret kissing you the first time.” She fairly spat her declaration. “And I would never kiss you again, not even if someone tried to force me at gunpoint.”

Without waiting for his response, she spun and stomped down the hallway and disappeared into her room. A couple of seconds later, the mattress and bedsprings squeaked, signaling that she was getting back into bed.

Only after the squeaking stopped did he allow himself to breathe freely. Even then, he remained in the same spot, afraid that if he moved, he’d chase after her and tell her he was the one who wanted another kiss.

Because no matter how much he might deny it, now that he’d gotten a taste of her lips, he was hungry for more.