Victoria Dahl - Close Enough to Touch

The silence that followed wasn’t a good sign. Eight o’clock was late by his standards, but too early for a girl like her, maybe. But the more likely truth was that she wasn’t there. She’d disappeared as quickly as she’d shown up. Seemed about right. Rayleen had sent Grace on her way. Those two would probably get along like a couple of feral cats.

Convinced that the place was just as empty as it had been two days before, Cole started to leave, only to swing back around when a muffled voice interrupted the silence. “Who is it?”

“It’s Cole,” he said, a smile springing so quickly to his face that it startled him. When she didn’t respond, he added, “Your neighbor.”

The door opened. Not all the way, of course, just enough to reveal Grace standing there glaring at him.

“Good morning,” he offered, his eyes dipping to take her in. She was dressed in jeans and a black hoodie, but her feet were bare, aside from the deep blue polish on her toenails.

“Somebody painted over the peephole,” she muttered, running a hand through her crazy hair. It stood up in wild layers that somehow made her look younger. Or maybe that was the faded, smeared makeup. But he noticed that her lips were still a deep pink color, even first thing in the morning. That wasn’t lipstick. That was just the sweet shade of her mouth.

“The what?” he finally remembered to ask.

“The peephole,” she gestured at the door.

“Oh.” He looked over his shoulder at his own door. “I guess I never noticed.”

“I guess you wouldn’t. Did you need something?”

“No. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Well, we’re neighbors. And I hadn’t heard so much as a door shut since I saw you yesterday. I thought maybe Old Rayleen had sent you on your way.”

She started to shake her head, and then seemed to be caught by surprise by a huge yawn. Her hand clutched the edge of the door and swung it farther open. The place looked the same as yesterday. Not one piece of furniture or sign of life. The kitchen was dark and quiet.

Cole was craning his neck to look around her when Grace seemed to realize what he was doing and narrowed the opening. But he’d seen enough. None of her stuff was here yet.

“Want a cup of coffee?”

For a second, her dark, fathomless eyes flared with emotion. Something close to lust.

“It’s already brewed,” he coaxed.

“Mmm.” She glanced toward his door, and he knew she was hoping he’d offer to bring her a cup and leave her alone. Fat chance.

“Come on. We can leave my front door open, since I make you nervous.”

“Ha!” Her laugh was rusty and gorgeous. “Why would you make me nervous?”

Cole wasn’t sure he liked the emphasis she’d put on you, but he just smiled. “No idea. But I obviously do.”

“That’s not nervousness, cowboy. It’s called being smart enough not to get behind closed doors with a strange man.”

“Strange, huh? I hope you haven’t been listening to the stories about me. Half of them aren’t even true.”

“You wouldn’t know strange if it bit you on the ass,” she said, but she waved him back and stepped into the hall with a small smile. “Are you going to give me coffee or not?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, tipping an imaginary hat before he moved across the hall to open his door. “I was just about to have breakfast,” he lied. He’d eaten almost two hours before, but she didn’t seem to have done much shopping yet. “Will you eat bacon and eggs? If you’re a vegetarian, I can whip up some toast.”

She didn’t answer for a few seconds. Cole heard her close the door softly as he headed for the coffeepot.

“Bacon and eggs would be great,” she finally said. “And toast, too, if you’re offering.”

“Sure.” He poured her coffee and refilled his own cup. What the hell. A little aching in his thigh was worth spending some time with her. He didn’t have anything else interesting going on. And it wouldn’t be the first time he’d endured aching for an attractive woman.

Cole put sugar and milk out on the counter, tossed a pan on a burner and grabbed the bacon and eggs. He felt her gaze on his back as he worked. “Over easy okay?” he asked as he laid bacon on the cast iron.

“Great,” she answered. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”

He glanced back to find her seated on a stool, hunched over her coffee as if she was cold. Mornings were chilly up here if you weren’t from the mountains. He reached past the fridge to turn up the thermostat. “We all take turns cooking in the bunkhouse.”

“Oh, the bunkhouse,” she said, making the word sound mysterious. There was nothing mysterious about it, unless you thought cooking and sleeping in what was essentially a live-in locker room was mysterious.

“So what are you doing here?” she asked. “Did you get tired of bunkhouse living?”

Hell, yeah, he was tired of bunkhouse living, but that hadn’t been the problem. As a matter of fact, he’d become ranch boss and moved into the boss’s house less than a year before.

Cole finished frying the bacon, then set it on a plate and covered it before breaking the eggs into the hot grease. “I was hurt last year,” he finally said.

“What happened?”

“A horse landed on my leg.”

“Ow.”

“Yeah.” He wanted to reach down and rub his leg, but he concentrated on the eggs instead.

“So they made you move out?”

The whole complicated story loomed before him. Cole rolled his shoulders. “There’s not enough room for guys who aren’t working, so, yeah. But I’m getting back to work now. I won’t be here much longer.”

“Me either.”

He put bread in the toaster. “You just got here.”

“I’m passing through.”

Cole blinked at that, tension tightening his shoulders, but he tried not to let it show. “Who could’ve guessed you didn’t want to settle in Wyoming?”

One of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. “You telling me I don’t look like a Wyoming girl?”

“You know damn well you don’t look like a Wyoming girl. And that’s the way you like it.”

Now both eyebrows rose as if she was surprised. Cole piled two plates high with eggs and bacon and toast. He slid the plates across the counter, added forks and knives and paper towels, and joined her at the barstools to find out exactly who she was.

* * *

THE MAN WAS SMARTER than he looked. She’d been trying to bait him, force him to say something that she’d find insulting. Instead he’d spoken the truth as if it were obvious to him. Grace wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“So how long are you staying?” he asked.

She took a bite of egg instead of answering his question. The flavor melted over her tongue and she hoped Cole didn’t hear the way her stomach growled at the sudden pleasure. “Wow. The eggs are amazing.”

“Bacon grease,” he said. “What are you doing out here? Working?”

Grace cleared her throat and told herself not to stuff the food into her mouth, but damn, she hadn’t had a real meal in days. On the bus, it had been granola bars and chips. She took a bite of bacon and spoke past it. “I already told you. I’m passing through.”

“On your way to where?”

“Vancouver.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “This is a strange route to Vancouver.”

She shrugged and made a point of changing the subject. “Thanks so much for breakfast. And coffee. The coffee’s great, too. Strong.”

She felt his gaze on her, but caught the movement of his head when he finally looked away. “You should try it after it’s been sitting at the edge of a campfire all day. That’ll wake you up.”