but they’ve inherited the tendency.”
Lizzy retreated to her room, which remained exactly as she had left it, with the ruffled curtains and rodeo posters, an admittedly incongruous mix that pretty much summed up her personality.
Instead of unpacking, though, she went straight to the window seat and settled back against the mound of pillows, staring out across the rugged terrain, imagining Hank out there somewhere, his skin bronzed by the sun and glistening with sweat.
Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow she would face him and find out if anything at all had changed between them. With luck she wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of him. She sighed at the improbability of that. With better luck, he would sweep her into his arms and tell her he couldn’t live without her. Now that, probable or not, was something worth waiting for.
A man could only mend the same fence so many times without looking like a darned fool, Hank thought as the sun beat down on his bare back. Cody Adams had passed by twice the day before just to get in a few taunts about the obviousness of his activity and to keep him updated on Lizzy’s whereabouts.
Even if Cody hadn’t told him, though, Hank was pretty sure he would have known the precise instant Lizzy was back at White Pines. He could feel her presence. The air seemed to crackle with the electricity of it. And that old familiar ache in the region of his heart started up again.
“Just come to dinner at White Pines tonight,” Cody had suggested. “You know you’d be welcome. The whole family will be there.”
“I know that.” Hank said.
He liked the whole Adams clan, from Harlan on down. They’d always made him feel like one of them. The littlest rascals in the family were so used to his presence, they had even taken to calling him Uncle Hank. He’d liked the feeling of belonging and he’d enjoyed spending many an evening with them since buying his ranch, but this was different This time Lizzy would be there, and he didn’t know what kind of welcome to predict from her, not when they’d parted on such uneasy terms.
“Another time,” he said, covering his regret.
“She won’t be here forever,” Cody had reminded him. “And we have a bet.”
“It’s her first day home. There will be time for me to make good on that ridiculous bet.”
Call it masculine pride or sheer muleheadedness, but what he didn’t say was that he wanted Lizzy to come to him, that he wanted to know that she’d missed him at least enough to finally seek him out.
Oh, he knew as sure as shooting that she’d been avoiding him all these years. He’d seen the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks after she’d kissed him on the eve of her departure for college. He’d also seen the quick rise of anger and pride when he hadn’t tried to stop her from leaving. She’d been so sure he would, so confident that that kiss would make a difference. He’d seen that, too.
Little did she know what letting her go had cost him. That unexpected kiss had turned him inside out No woman had ever made him want so much. And no woman had ever been so far out of reach. The distance was far greater than the miles between Los Piños and Austin or even the miles between home and Miami. They were separated by their dreams.
His were simple. He wanted a wife and children and a small ranching operation that he could take pride in having built from the ground up. The Triple Bar was his. There was no history or conditions tied to it, the way there would have been if he’d stayed at his daddy’s place. In that, he was a whole lot like Luke Adams, the oldest of Harlan’s sons.
Lizzy’s hopes and ambitions were more complex and all-encompassing. Harlan Adams had laid the world at the feet of his baby daughter, and she had embraced it all. Hank wasn’t sure she could ever be happy with a life as quiet and self-contained as the one he could offer.
He knew—he had always known—that he wanted more from her than a brief, passionate fling. And for that, she had to come to him in her own time, on her own terms. He’d long ago accepted the fact that she might never come at all.
Knowing that, he’d turned Cody’s invitation down, then spent a miserable night back at his own ranch, cursing the day he’d ever met the pretty little sixteen-year-old who’d gone and grown up into a beautiful, willful woman who’d twisted his heart into knots. No man should have to contend with loving a woman like that and watching her walk away.
Today he was back in the same pasture, doing the same work all over again, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of her. What kind of fool did that make him? He’d been asking himself that since sunup and he didn’t like the answer any better now than he had hours ago.
Hopefully, Cody wasn’t spreading the word about what a pitiful spectacle Hank was making of himself. When he glanced up a few moments later, he thought he was seeing things. There was Lizzy Adams strolling across his pasture looking very much at home and pretty as a picture in her snug jeans and bright red shirt, her black hair streaming down her back under a big black Stetson. Right at this second, with that long, athletic stride of hers, she was a cowgirl through and through. He could almost make himself believe she hadn’t changed at all.
Nor, unfortunately, had his reaction to her. His blood heated as if she’d done a whole lot more than offer him a smile and a wave. He was glad then that he’d waited to see her, glad that this first meeting wasn’t taking place in front of all those prying, hopeful Adams eyes.
She looked confident and sassy and so damned tempting that Hank clutched the posthole digger a little tighter to keep from dragging her straight into his arms and giving her a proper—well, improper, actually—welcome.
Lizzy didn’t seem inclined to show the same restraint. Her pace never even slowed as she sashayed toward him, lifted her hands to his cheeks, gazed straight into his eyes and planted a kiss on him guaranteed to fell a saint. The woman never had hesitated to take what she wanted. Her daddy had always led her to believe that it was her due.
There was hunger and passion and maybe even a little greedy desperation in that kiss on his part and hers. She smelled of sunshine and some kind of exotic flower and she tasted just the way he’d remembered with a hint of mint on her breath. They were both trembling and breathless by the time she pulled away.
“Damn,” she murmured, her expression shaken.
Hank grinned. He knew precisely how she felt, as if the ground had shifted under their feet when everyone had declared the earthquake safely past He dredged up his sense of humor to keep from revealing how shaken he, too, had been, how eager he was for more.
“Was it everything you remembered?” he taunted.
She scowled up at him. “Oh, go to hell.”
“Now, that’s a fine way to greet an old neighbor.”
“The kiss was the greeting. The rest was regrets.”
He laughed at that. “I know exactly what you mean.”
She regarded him suspiciously. “You do?”
“I was kinda hoping I’d gotten it all wrong, too. Care to try again, just in case the first time was an accident?” The question had nothing to do with his bet with Cody
