Eastern Ambitions: Compass Brothers, Book 3 Page 10

  So why had it felt like they’d done a hell of a lot more than console each other or walk hand in hand?

  He took a deep breath and swung into her territory.

  Cindi sat behind her desk, contorting her face in an expression similar to the one Sam had made as a kid when Sawyer would take his crassness to new levels and fart in their old bunk beds. Somehow he doubted that was the problem here. “Something wrong?”

  “Oh!” She jumped, then shook her head. “Damn Googleheimer’s.”

  “Excuse me?” He squinted, as though the clarity could help him understand her better.

  “You know…when you open a browser and forget what you planned to look up on the Internet.” She smiled.

  “Ahh, of course. Happens all the time.” He chuckled, then leaned his upper thigh against her desk until he could sneak a glimpse at her screen. “What I do to combat Googleheimer’s is rewind my brain.”

  “It’s not exactly a DVR up here.” She tapped her temple with one perfectly manicured fingernail. How did she manage that while working in a barn?

  “What were you thinking about before you opened the window?”

  “I can’t remember.” She bit her lip. “Shit.”

  “Okay, plan B.” He grinned. “Think of something entirely different. The original thought might spontaneously return to your mind.”

  “What the—” She started when he dusted her hair back from her temple and nuzzled her neck. He had to help her out, didn’t he?

  His brain screamed red alert. What happened to gossiping and not touching? Since it was for her own good, he figured he’d write himself a free pass. He breathed deep against her skin.

  “God damn you smell even better up close,” he whispered in her ear. “Are you wearing L’Heure Bleue?”

  She faced him so fast he didn’t have time to retreat. Their lips nearly brushed when she squeaked, “You know Guerlain? Impressive.”

  “Not bad for a backward cowboy, huh?”

  “Sorry, that came out wrong.” She laid a hand on his forearm, infusing more heat into his skin than the subtle contact should have generated. “It’s more like most guys don’t notice at all.”

  Sam found that hard to believe.

  “I bought a bottle for my ex.” Belinda the Big Apple Bitch. He stood and ran his hand through his hair, trying not to scowl at the reminder.

  “She must have appreciated such a generous gift.”

  “Hardly.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his laugh. “She hated it. Too bourgeois for her.”

  “Damn.” Cindi shook her head. “I’d hate to see her shopping bills.”

  “No kidding.” He didn’t mention how Belinda had flown to Paris on chartered jets and hired world-renowned designers for her one-of-a-kind power suits. Mostly on other guys’ dimes. No reason to rub Cindi’s face in a lifestyle she couldn’t possibly hope to have. Still, why shouldn’t she benefit from Sam’s poor taste in women? God only knew, on her salary, quality perfume had to be a luxury. “The crew in New York is packing up my apartment this weekend. You’re welcome to have the bottle when the rest of my stuff arrives.”

  “Thanks but—”

  “I insist.” He waved off her objections. Yes, it was an expensive gift from a near stranger. Too damn bad. For once, he wanted to do something for a woman who’d be grateful for the effort and extravagance of his pampering. “Not like I plan to wear it. It suits you. Very lovely.”

  She seemed like she might keep arguing.

  So he told the truth. “It’s either that, or I throw it in the trash. I don’t care for any souvenirs. You know what I mean?”

  “I do. Thank you, Sam.” Why would that, of all things, cause her to blush?

  “You’re welcome.” He leaned closer, maybe for another whiff of the potent blend of Cindi and violets or maybe for something a tad more dangerous.

  “Oh my God!” She clapped her hands and bounced. Her breasts distracted him from the elusive something in her gaze that had him thinking bullshit he’d be better off ignoring. Before he could take evasive maneuvers, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged. “You’re a genius. I was about to look up a reasonable source for pickup-bed water caddies. Colby wants every truck equipped since the incident.”

  “What happened?” Sam hated being so out of the loop.

  “Jake gave his canteen to one of the new hands who didn’t pack enough. He got dehydrated and ended up in the hospital overnight. The fool worked until he dropped. Scared the shit out of Colby and the rest of the guys. They thought he’d had a heart attack. It’s a long ride back from the west pasture.” Her eyes darkened a shade or two.

  Could there be something between her and the cowboy who’d worked Compass Ranch nearly as long as Sam had been alive. Could he be the guy she’d entertained last week? Jake had to be at least ten, maybe fifteen, years older than her. Not that Sam gave a shit.

  “I think I’m going to talk to him about limiting JD’s time out there too. What if…”

  Sam wished he could plug his ears and yell la la la like he had when he was a kid and Silas tried to convince him there was no Santa. He didn’t realize he’d crossed the space until Cindi’s gentle call registered on his mind.

  “Sam.”

  “Yeah.” He paused with one foot over the threshold.

  “When you’re ready and you’d like to talk about it. Well… I’m a good listener.” The pity in her gaze turned his stomach. “My door is always open.”

  “I’m fine. Besides, you don’t actually have a door.” He waved at the clear air between her office and the main section of the barn.

  “Okay.” She held her hands up, palm out. “Thanks again. You know, for helping me remember.”

  “Googleheimer’s. Right.”

  “Hey, did you come in here for something?” Her brows drew together.

  He could admit to himself he’d already gotten what he’d really sought. A chance to see her again, smell her again and almost taste her again. Damn it.

  “Ah, yeah.” He wondered for a moment if there were an analog version of Googleheimer’s. He had to scroll back and dig up the shoddy excuse JD had given him to seek out the office manager. “A desk. JD said there’s one out here somewhere I can take up to the house.”

  “Oh.” Her lower lip plumped out in a sexy pout.

  Could she have hoped for something different?

  “Let me show you.” She rounded her station and slipped past him. He didn’t move out of her trajectory fast enough, and she brushed every inch of his front.

  They both drew a huge breath.

  Her flirty sundress floated around her as she spun and nearly ran toward the attached shed around the rear of the space. Funny, Sam had specifically asked if that’s where it was. JD had assured him it wasn’t. Maybe his dad was starting to forget things. Somehow Sam doubted it.

  The rancher could be devious when it suited him.

  “It’s right there.” She pointed to the back corner. “Do you want some help digging it out?”

  Sam raked his gaze from her elegant up-do to the cream silk ruffles floating around her on the breeze. “Thanks, but not from you. Wouldn’t want to muss you up.”

  “I’m not the kind of woman who minds getting dirty every now and then.”

  Holy Christ. Could she have meant that like it sounded?

  The blush creeping up her chest and neck said no.

  Too damn bad.

  “No worries. I’ve got this.” He didn’t face her again—afraid she’d spot the raging hard-on in his jeans.

  It wasn’t until later, when he wrestled the solid oak desk off the back of one of the ranch’s pickups and up the stairs to the main house, that he wondered where the hell Cindi had come from. Certainly not Compton Pass. He would have remembered someone like her.

  Silas hobbled onto the porch with a frosty beer in one hand and his crutch in the other. When Sam set the desk on the porch with a serious grunt, his brother tossed him the bottle.

&n
bsp; “None for you?”

  “Nah. My drinking days are done.” His brother lowered himself to a wicker chair.

  “What’re you doing back?” Usually the guys stayed out until dinnertime. “Everything all right?”

  “Suppose so.” Silas grimaced. “My fucking thigh was aching like a bitch. I was slowing them down. Colby noticed and shipped me out. I think I’m more of a distraction anyway. Uh, JD came home with me. He’s taking a nap.”

  “Whoa.” Sam hopped up onto the desk, his thighs spread as he chugged half the beer before dangling the brown bottle between his knees.

  “I know.” Si stared off into the distance. “There’s got to be a first time for everything I suppose.”

  The condensation-coated label resisted Sam’s trimmed nails as he picked at the corners. “It freaks me out. Part of me knows it’s true, but he’s here every day, walking, talking, being a pain in the ass as usual. I can’t imagine it’s going to happen so soon. That he’ll be gone. I honest to God can’t picture it. Like when someone tells you how big the universe is and you know it’s ginormous. But when you translate the distance from a theoretical model to contemplating the real thing… It just doesn’t compute.”

  “Look, I’m no genius. I never did great in school like you. There was plenty of shit that made no sense to me. I think I get what you’re saying, though.” His brother sighed. “And I’m okay with not imagining it before I have to if you don’t mind. Unless you need to…talk…or something.”

  Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t torture you like that, bro. I’ll find someone else if I need to unload. Maybe Lucy or Colby wouldn’t mind listening.”

  “Sorry. I would try for you.” Si scrubbed his face. “But they’re way better at it than me. Some people have that warm, fuzzy thing going for them, you know? I ain’t one of them.”

  “Being a man of action is valuable too.”

  “Fat lot of good it does when you’re sidelined.” A low growl came from his brother’s chest. “When they need me most, I’m stuck here like their fucking housewife. Except I can’t cook worth a damn.”

  “Yeah, please leave that to Vicky.” Sam frowned. “I never even offered to head out there. Think I should?”

  “Uh, no offense.” His brother shook his head. “You’d be in the way. Besides, why do something your heart’s not in? Isn’t that sort of the point of coming back to Compton Pass? You’re lending your own kind of support to the family.”

  They both stared at the desk he sat on.

  “JD has good insurance. He’s packed away tons. Still, he and Colby have been making a bunch of improvements around here. Investing for the future.” Si shrugged. “I’ll leave it to you to figure out the cash flow and all that stuff. It might not hurt if you reviewed the books. Help us understand our resources and our limitations. Plus, you could spend some time with sexy Ms. Cindi.”

  “What do you know about her?” Sam leaned back onto one palm, trying to act casual.

  “Son of a bitch. Score another point for Lu.” His brother shifted, searching for a comfortable position. “She called it by the second day you were home. Said Cindi’s been asking about you too.”

  “Really?” If submitting to some teasing would distract Si for a few minutes, Sam would take one for the team. It wasn’t like he really wanted to know more about her.

  “Yep. Lucy told her a bunch of stories that made you look cooler than you really are, don’t worry.” Silas grinned.

  “Nice. I’ll have to thank her later.”

  “So…Cindi. Lucy and Colby gave me the run down. You’re lucky they’re not playing matchmaker yet. Seemed to think you two would hit it off. She’s been here a little over two years. Never leaves Compton Pass. Is great at her job. Has been organizing the financials over time. Works hard.” Silas cocked his head. “Some rumors that she plays hard too.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam couldn’t stop replaying the instant she’d told him she didn’t mind getting dirty. He figured that revelation was going to keep him occupied in the shower later.

  “JD told me she likes to frolic with the cowboys.” Silas shrugged. “Still find it hard to believe she has a nasty bone in her body. She’s always so perfect looking. Real classy. But it was part of the whole don’t-judge-a-book-by-its-cover speech.”

  The window on the side of the porch creaked as it lifted up.

  Shit, JD.

  “Should I have added on the keep-private-discussions-to-yourself speech, son?” Their dad busted them big time.

  “You always did have a knack for sensing when we were up to no good.” Silas grinned.

  “’Cause I know what I would have been doing if I were in your shoes.” Their dad chuckled. The sound morphed into the hacking cough Sam had come to dread. Except this time it kept worsening until JD had trouble catching his breath.

  Sam rushed inside, snagging some water from the refrigerator when soft curses dotted the wheezes floating from the direction of his parents’ bedroom.

  He hustled down the hall, ignoring the dirt he tracked from his boots. He’d clean it up before Vicky noticed.

  “Here, drink this.” He handed the bottle to his dad.

  The other man’s hands seemed too weak to twist the top off. He fumbled twice before Sam sank to the mattress and did it for him. With one arm wrapped around his father’s back, he helped JD sit up far enough to take a couple sips.

  The fit faded away. After JD breathed easier, Sam laid his father against the pillows, propping him half-sitting against the headboard.

  “Be careful.” The warning hissed between puffs of breath.

  “Did I hurt you?” Sam couldn’t imagine damaging the man who could kick anyone’s ass with both hands tied behind his back.

  “Not me.” JD’s fingers latched onto Sam’s knee, gouging a little. “Careful with little Cin.”

  “What?” He sputtered. “I haven’t… I’m not planning on…”

  His dad sighed. “Listen good. I’m not telling you not to follow your heart. Just don’t spook her, you hear me?”

  “There’s nothing in my damn heart.” Sam scowled. “I hardly know her.”

  “I do. I know you both. Enough to tell you I’d be disappointed if you let whatever the hell went wrong in New York make you stupid now, when it counts.” JD motioned for another gulp of the water. A trickle of the cool liquid ran down his chin.

  Sam mopped it up with the corner of the sheet.

  “It’s important.” JD battled his drooping lids. “She belongs here. Compass Ranch is her home. You can’t take that from her. You can’t chase her away. Either because you rush her or because you ignore what could be. It would devastate her to lose her family.”

  “What about her real one?” Sam couldn’t deny the urge to learn more. “Where are they?”

  “Gone. Never were there for her really.” JD looked like he would have spit on the ground if they’d had this discussion outside. “They owed her better. Has it now. I’m asking you to look after her. Protect her. Don’t let her disappear in the shuffle after I’m gone.”

  The strength in his dad’s grip surprised him when he squeezed Sam’s wrist.

  “Swear it to me, Sam.”

  Their stares met and stuck.

  “I promise, JD. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

  “Thank you.” He finally relaxed, his eyes drifting shut. “Mind closing the shade? I think I’ll take that nap after all.”

  “Sure, Pa.”

  Chapter Nine

  Two weeks after coming to Compass Ranch

  Afternoon bitch sessions became one of the highlights of Sam’s days. He looked forward to hanging out with Silas and JD, who’d adopted a half-day schedule as their standard. Any other assortment of visitors from town joined in to toss back a few cold beers while spending time with the head of Compass Ranch.

  Sam had even managed to convert some of the old-timers to his favorite microbrew. This casual small-town social phenomenon was something h
e’d lost entirely in the bustle of his previous world where the most interaction he’d had with his neighbors included a smile in the hallway or weather chat during the elevator ride to the lobby. Reclaiming the tradition felt right. Another step in merging the two halves of his identity.

  Today it seemed like he and Silas were the only takers. Too bad Seth and Colby could never join in. Maybe he’d start up a late-night edition of their group when the dust settled a bit. Then all they would need was Sawyer, sitting shoulder to shoulder with them on the porch stairs as he recounted his latest conquests.

  “You gonna cave and reach out to him?” Silas nudged Sam’s knee and gestured toward his Smartphone.

  “Honestly.” Sam prepared to dash for the safety of the yard. “I already did. A few times.”

  “And?” Si didn’t seem surprised.

  “I don’t know. Either they don’t have a Wi-Fi signal this time or he’s giving me the cold finger.” Sam rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head.

  “Not to add to your metrosexual meltdown—”

  “If you’re trying to insult me by implying it’s better to pound your problems into the dust or ignore them for, oh, say, ten years I think I’ll stick with talking issues through in a civilized fashion. Thank you.”

  “Blah, blah. But, dude, I think you meant cold shoulder. Sawyer’s giving you the cold shoulder.” Silas slapped Sam in the center of his back hard enough to make the breath wheeze from his lungs. His brother left his hand on top of the tattoo there.

  “Uh, nope. Gramps.” Sam angled his face so he could smirk up at Si. “He’s ignoring my texts. You know, the cold finger.”

  “Lame,” Silas groaned.

  “Look who’s talking, gimpy.” Sam danced out of his brother’s reach and leaned against the rail. Though he might have earned an ass kicking for leaving Sawyer in the dark, he didn’t think he could survive one from the freaking hulk Silas had turned into. A noogie and a wedgie were one thing. He’d endured plenty of those growing up. Damage inflicted by those tree-trunk arms would be something else entirely.