you said, I didn’t have my dad’s support.” Her frown said there was more, but she closed up tighter than the chute after the bull got out.
“I’m surprised you remembered my time.”
No more than he was. He’d suppressed almost everything that happened back then. But now memories—about her—were surfacing in spite of himself. She’d been a kid back then. But she was all grown up now. And pretty. Too pretty for his peace of mind.
“Your time was the same as your age,” he said.
“I’m impressed,” she commented, looking anything but. In fact she looked as if she was waiting for the other shoe to fall. “Memory by association. Good technique.”
“Is that flattery?”
“Heaven forbid. Your ego’s twice the size of Texas now.”
He laughed, charmed by her straight talk. He’d had enough insincere compliments to last a lifetime. Women came on to him, wanting to hang around for their own selfish reasons. “About the rodeo—”
She leaned back against the counter on the other side of the room. “So Dev told you I’d be interested?”
He nodded. “Said you’ve got a project in the works and it would help you out.” He’d been real curious when he’d heard that.
“You already know the ranch,” she said nodding. “Why do you have to inspect it?”
A good question. His first instinct had been to look elsewhere. But he owed it to the hardworking rodeo kids to find the best location to showcase their talents.
“My memories of the Circle S are from ten years ago, when I was just a kid. I need to see that you can handle the crowd, the animals. That the facilities are in good shape. There’s a lot more to it than putting out the date and time. We have equipment, vendors, supplies, not to mention a budget.”
She smiled. “Spoken like a genuine businessman.”
“If the boot fits—” He shrugged.
Her smile lit up her face like the town square at Christmas. His responding flash of heat took him by surprise. She was so the girl-next-door, kid-sister type. But there was something about her, something different from the sketchy details he remembered.
He studied her more closely. Brown eyes warm and welcoming as expensive brandy looked bigger and more beautiful than he recalled. Her face had softened into a woman’s, along with her body. She was still small, but she’d filled out in all the right places. The cotton shirt she wore emphasized the shape and size of her breasts. She wasn’t stacked like the groupies who had pursued him on the circuit, but she would fit a man’s hands perfectly. She would fit his hands—
He shut the gate on that thought before it had time to form. How she would feel was on a need-to-know basis and he didn’t need to know.
But he couldn’t stop himself from looking. He continued his assessment to her trim waist in khaki slacks that showed off her slender legs. He couldn’t help wondering how she would look in a worn pair of jeans, soft enough to caress her backside like a lover’s hand. He would put money on the fact that she could have every guy in a crowd slack-jawed and bug-eyed. Just an impartial, impersonal observation. Nothing more. She was a woman any man would be proud to have by his side.
Any man but him.
“Would you like me to show you around, or do you want to check out the place on your own?” she asked.
After the thoughts he’d just had, he would be nuts to accept her offer. Common sense told him to go it by himself as he always did. But before he could get the right words out, he heard himself say, “I think it would be helpful if you gave me the tour.”
Helpful to whom? Beneficial to what? Certainly not him. Women had been kicking him in the teeth since he was ten years old. He would much rather have done business with Taylor’s father. At least the man was up-front about the way things were. No surprises. God, Mitch hated surprises.
“Okay,” she said. “My truck is in back.”
“Let’s take mine,” he countered.
“Are you one of those guys who’s prejudiced against women drivers?” she asked, one eyebrow lifted with undisguised challenge.
His gaze snapped to hers and he saw the twinkle there. He grinned, his blood warming to her fire. “What if I am?”
“Then we’ve got more problems than whose truck to take,” she said.
“How so?”
“My last name is Stevens. I’m in charge. And you’re going to have to deal with me.”
“I don’t have a problem with that.”
“You’re sure?” she asked, as if there was something he should know.
“I’m positive.”
It was the Lord’s honest truth. As much as he wished otherwise, he was looking forward to dealing with her—more than he’d anticipated anything for a long time.
“Good,” she said nodding. “Then let me point out that I know this ranch like the back of my hand. If I drive, you’ll be able to see more.”
“Okay. Your point is well taken. And there’s nothing I’d like more than being chauffeured by a pretty lady.”
“So what do you think?” Taylor asked Mitch.
“What do I think?” he mused.
She had parked her truck beside the barn and they walked the short distance to the corrals. They stood side by side with their forearms resting on the top of the fence. Well, he was standing in the dirt and she was on the first slat, but their shoulders were even—and the occasional brushing together generated a sizzle of awareness. Actually more like sparks which created a serious fire hazard in her parched heart. What would it take to fan the embers into flames?
Taylor tried her darnedest not to notice the subtle scent of his aftershave, or the warmth of his body beside hers. She tried hard to shove the sensations to the back of her mind. She had more important things to worry about. Like getting the contract for the championships. Like forgetting that he was not the angry man who had told her she kissed like a little girl. Now he was very much a man. And she was a woman, standing close enough for her to feel the unbridled effects of his masculinity.
Her breath caught when his gaze met hers. She’d seen the Pacific Ocean on a cloudless, blue-sky day. She’d marveled at the breathtaking water that glittered like diamonds, yet wondered what dangers lurked below its surface. Even in the shadow of his hat Mitch’s eyes glinted, too, and she couldn’t help questioning what was going on in his mind.
“Tell me what you think,” she said again.
“The ranch looks good,” he said carefully. “Even better than I remember. You’ve made some changes. Are you ready to tell me about the project you’re working on?”
No, she wanted to say. She was afraid to let him know
