and hands, and then pulled open the refrigerator door. The beer bottles felt cool against his palms. On his way back through the house, he stopped to turn up the central air. Then he pushed his way back out onto the porch.
Perfect porcelain knees. That’s what met his gaze the second he exited the house. She reclined in one of the two rocking chairs on the porch, her bare, sun-kissed legs crossed, one slender foot swinging lazily, the hem of her skirt rising just enough to offer him a tempting peek at her well-contoured thighs. The pale pink paint that coated the tips of her toes matched that on her fingernails and made her feet look delicate and sexy as hell.
Seemed as if all his eyes wanted to do was examine the cute little dimples below her kneecaps, rove over those lusciously sculpted calves, shapely ankles, narrow feet. He dragged his gaze to her face only to become enthralled by her full bottom lip, that perfect nose, her brilliant, azure eyes.
The woman was like a beautiful sorceress who had ensnared him in some sort of spell. But Dane knew the only enchantment going on here had to do with the curse of his runaway libido. It was as simple as that.
“You are finished for the day, aren’t you?” she asked. “I’d hate to think I was keeping you from your work.”
“The cattle are taken care of,” he said, twisting off the top of one bottle and offering it to her. At that moment, he was struck by a thought. “I’m sorry. I should have brought you a glass.”
She shook her head, her silky blond locks bobbing. “This is fine. Thanks.”
He continued, “There’s always some chore waiting to be done around the place. But I’ve put in enough hours. I’m all through for today.”
“Good,” she said, then glanced around her. “Nice spread you’ve got.”
“Thanks.” He lowered himself into the matching rocker, pausing long enough to take a swig of beer. The cold, yeasty brew felt marvelous rolling down his throat. “I’m half owner. My father-in-law owns the other half. We’re partners.”
“You’re married?”
“Was. Helen died some years ago.”
She murmured a compassionate response, empathy flooding her face, softening her already stunning features, and Dane thought his heart was going to jump right out of his chest.
He accepted her sympathy with a nod, unable to bring himself to reply further. That part of his life was hard to even remember, let alone talk about. The conversation sagged for a few awkward seconds.
“Those cows out there in the pasture sure are pretty,” she said.
Dane couldn’t stop the chuckle that erupted from deep in his chest. “I’ve never heard Black Angus described as pretty before. Strong, maybe. Healthy. But never pretty.”
She lifted the beer, pressed her soft, glistening lips to the bottle’s rim and took a drink. He couldn’t take his eyes off the spot where her mouth met the smooth brown glass. Before he realized it, she was smiling at him again.
His tongue and throat felt as arid as a dusty cow trail, and he wondered if he was suffering a bout of sunstroke or something. What the hell was the matter with him?
Quick wit sparkled in her pretty baby blues. “I was only trying to offer you a compliment.”
He nodded. “I appreciate it. We breed them, you know. So your praise is well taken.”
Alva’s beat-up truck rolled over the hill then, and Dane couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice as he commented, “There’s my father-in-law now. I’d better go see what he’s up to.”
He stood, and so did Lacy.
“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’d like to use your powder room. I’ve been on the road a good while.”
“Sure,” he told her. “It’s—”
“I’ll find it.” With a wink and a quick flash of a smile, she disappeared into the house.
That flirtatiousness caused a series of warm vibrations to trill through Dane’s innards. He sucked air into his lungs, hoping to settle himself, and then he flagged Alva to a stop as he descended the porch steps on wobbly knees. Boy, oh, boy, his father-in-law would tease him for a month of Sundays if he got wind of the ridiculous reaction Dane was having to Miss Lacy Rivers.
“Where are you off to?” he asked Alva. “I thought—”
“I changed my mind,” the older man said. “I want some lasagna. And I’ve reached the age where I should certainly have what I want. Hellfire, Dane, I might die in my sleep tonight, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”
Alva’s ruffled feathers didn’t fool Dane. He knew what the man was up to.
One of his eyebrows arched high as he accused, “So, you’re just going to leave me here in the clutches of an encyclopedia salesman?”
The delighted sound Alva emitted could almost have been described as a wicked cackle. “Saleswoman, don’t you mean, boy?” He paused long enough to grin. “You should buy yourself a set of books. A little reading never hurt any man.”
Dane only shook his head at his father-in-law’s antics.
Then Alva’s knowing gaze sobered. “But she ain’t selling anything, is she?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, eyeing the door of Dane’s house. “The two of you looked…familiar sitting on the porch together as I drove up.”
“Familiar?” Dane’s forehead knitted. “That’s a strange word to use.”
Alva shrugged. “You do know her, though, don’t you?”
“Sort of,” he had to admit. “We went to the same college together. But that was a lifetime ago.”
“So the two of you have plenty of catching up to do,” Alva surmised. “You don’t need me hanging around. And it’s getting late. Be a gentleman. Invite the little lady to dinner. She can have my steak.”
“You don’t need to do this—”
“I told you,” the old man interrupted Dane’s protest, his grumpy tone back full force, “I feel like having Lottie’s lasagna tonight.”
Dane only shook his head. There was no changing the man’s mind once it was set. “Well, I hope you’ve got some antacid tablets in your medicine chest. You’re going to need them later.”
“Aw, now, you know my stomach is clad in iron.”
“You’re gonna wish it was,” Dane quipped as he stepped back from the truck.
More laughter rumbled from Alva. “You have fun chattering about old times.”
The truck tires kicked up grit and pebbles as he pulled off down the lane.
Hunger pangs pinched Dane’s stomach and he turned back toward
