Colton Cowboy Jeopardy (The Coltons 0f Mustang Valley Book 8) Page 7

  “No,” he replied. “I’m as free to date as you are.”

  “Then stop being a prude about this and say yes.” Selina hopped up on the counter and crossed her slender legs at the knee. “Norton Graves has money growing out of his hairy ears and Regina loves to flaunt it. She’s throwing a party next week and I could use a date. A really hot date. Say yes and I’ll owe you.”

  Jarvis eyed her. It felt like a trap. The last time he’d seen Norton Graves, speaking at a luncheon before he’d left his career for ranching, the man’s ears had been perfectly normal. Maybe Selina was right and guys didn’t notice those details.

  “Oh, don’t get too excited there, cowboy. This is a one-night-only deal. I don’t do relationships.”

  Jarvis did a mental eye roll to avoid getting lambasted. Again. He didn’t want to go anywhere with Selina if he could prevent it. A night with her pawing at him and selling an attraction he didn’t feel wasn’t his idea of a good time. “I’ll have to check my calendar,” he said.

  “Your calendar.” Selina cackled. “Jarvis, you sound like a real Colton.”

  Thankfully, he wasn’t in a position where she could see his face. He was a real Colton, even if Payne had refused to acknowledge the truth. In that moment, he decided he’d kick Selina out of her precious house if it did turn out Triple R belonged to him and his siblings.

  He managed to make the connections without cussing her out or wrenching his arm out of the socket. Kneeling, he scooted the wine cooler back inch by inch into the space. Sitting back on his heels, he eyed the appliance and started to adjust it to level.

  “Say something,” Selina demanded. “Seriously, Jarvis. Don’t be coy. You’re the hottest thing out here. Help me out.”

  Thing. He took his time rooting around in his toolbox for the small level. He didn’t do relationships, either, but he hoped like hell he’d never treated a woman with as much disregard as Selina did him. “Not sure I can swing it,” he said. “I have a lot on my plate out here and a date goes over and above my usual tasks.”

  “This would be vaguely personal,” she said. “You forget how much I know about this place. Asher gives you plenty of time off. I need to show up with the hottest man in town. Only the best eye candy is worth rubbing in Regina’s face,” Selina confessed.

  “Sounds like some friend,” he muttered. He set the level in place and then purposely missed the mark just to keep her talking.

  “She’s not all bad, but she is in a class by herself. Think about what you’ll gain, rubbing elbows with wealthy businessmen who could help you get your career back on track.”

  “My career is on the perfect track,” he said.

  She swore. “What will it take to convince you to help me out?”

  “When is it?” He made incremental adjustments until the wine cooler was perfectly level. Selina didn’t tolerate anything less than perfection.

  She gave him the date and time. “I’d need you to pick me up. And it’ll be dressy.”

  “I’ll check my calendar,” he repeated.

  She hopped down from the counter, arms crossed under her breasts. “While you’re checking the calendar, I’ll be checking with other available men.”

  He smiled, stretching his arms wide, giving her a good view and oozing the charm she expected from him. “You won’t.” Dropping his arms back to his sides, he pulled out his phone and checked the ranch schedule. “I’d hate for you to show up to such an important event with the second-best eye candy.”

  “Can you even do evening attire?” she demanded. “I can pop for a suit if you need it.”

  He rubbed his hand on his shirt, pulling the fabric tight. Predictably, her eyes glazed and her lips parted. He politely ignored her practiced response. “I know how to clean up when necessary.”

  She leaned back, her assessing gaze drifting across his body once more. “I bet you do. Put me out of my misery, cowboy. Just say yes.”

  He scanned the calendar and confirmed he was not on duty that evening. It would’ve been nice to discuss this with Mia before giving in to Selina’s demand. Canceling on Selina would create more problems and make her a bigger nightmare than ever. Technically, he didn’t owe Mia anything, and maybe a little up-close recon of Regina would help Mia decide what to do next.

  “Invitations like this one aren’t easy to get,” she pushed. Her hands on her hips now, she stared him down.

  “You’re making it sound better and better,” he drawled. “Irresistible, really. You need a date, you’ve got one.” He ticked off the pertinent points on his fingers. “I’ll dress appropriately. I will pick you up. I will converse appropriately. I will not expect any relationship nonsense.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She tapped a fingertip to her lips. “Do you have a gray suit?”

  “Charcoal,” he replied, more amused than offended at this point.

  “Good, good.” she purred. “I can work with charcoal. Do you have a decent car?”

  “Just my truck.”

  “You’ll drive my sports car,” she declared.

  “That will be an experience,” he admitted.

  “But you can’t put the top down on the way to the party.”

  “Scout’s honor,” he agreed with a wink.

  “And you won’t drink.” Her blue gaze turned hard and serious. “I want to enjoy myself.”

  “All right.” Maybe if she got tipsy he could squeeze her for more details about the ranch history or whatever she might be using against Payne and his children.

  He packed up his toolbox and then wedged the old wine cooler into the new cooler’s box to protect the glass front. “I’ll just pull my truck around to get all this out of here.”

  She caught his elbow. “In a minute. At the party, if anyone asks, you are totally into me.”

  “Of course I am, sweetheart.”

  She tilted her head, a sneaky smile on her face. “You’ve done this before.”

  “Feigned avid interest in a pointless conversation? Yes. Yes, I have.”

  She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, then bit her lip. He guessed she thought the rehearsed expression was sexy and appealing. Maybe it was for other men. For him, Selina was too obvious for her own good. “Stop.”

  “You first,” he said. “There’s a lot of ranch to cover and I should get out there. Unless you have more rules and requirements? Have a little faith. Everyone there will see that you have me wrapped around your little finger.”

  “Do I?”

  “Selina.” He picked up his toolbox and treated her to one of those long, obnoxious looks. “We both know you’d toss me out the minute you believed that.” She was pretty and she’d kept herself in shape, she just didn’t spark his interest beyond a basic appreciation for the packaging. He winked at her. “Until next week.”

  “Fine.” She sniffed. “How long until the new cooler is ready to go?”

  “Give it two more hours,” he suggested.

  He walked away from her lovely, entertaining space, taking the long way rather than cutting through her house to get to his truck. He supposed his truck out front served as solid groundwork for their “date” next week. Anyone in or around the main house would notice his personal truck and wonder who’d stopped by. She would definitely make up a detailed story that painted her in the best possible light. He didn’t care. Let her say whatever made her happy. A happy Selina posed fewer problems for Asher and the rest of the crew.

  Grimacing at the hours he’d spent with Selina, he sent a text update to Asher and then went out to see how he could best help the crew make the most of the day. Assuming they didn’t run into any trouble, he might get some time for his search after all.

  Chapter 4

  Mia wasn’t the least bit ashamed about the waves of gratitude that had been flowing through her all day. At this point, those buoyant feelings were probably the
only thing keeping her upright. Silas had been fussy all day, despite the vast improvement in both weather and their accommodations.

  The bunkhouse must have been remodeled and updated sometime in the past few years. The building was an excellent use of a simple rectangular layout, with four bunk beds at one end, a bathroom and kitchenette on the other end, and a square oak table in between. Big windows let in plenty of light and she even had a decent internet connection. Jarvis had been right on point about how much easier life was with running water and power. For Mia, this modest building might as well have been the luxurious sprawling country house she was supposed to be selling for her father.

  Her shower earlier had cleared her mind and given her a wonderful boost, but she needed sleep. So far, Silas had only slept if she rocked him, despite being up all night long. Whenever she tried to put him down so she could nap, too, he wailed. And the wailing meant more worries, since her son’s cries had exposed her original hiding place. Although Jarvis hadn’t been joking about the remote location. Surrounded by acres of fallow fields and a clear view to the horizon, there was no chance of anyone surprising her out here.

  Though the parenting books and classes had assured her this would happen, she fretted over every detail, worried he was running a fever or coping with colic. His temperature was normal and his food was staying down. His tummy felt normal rather than distended. She stripped him to his diaper and confirmed his clothing wasn’t the problem. She changed her hold as she rocked him and tried the pacifier. Nothing helped.

  Since she had electricity and her phone was charged up, she reached out to her pediatrician via online chat. The professionals concluded that her baby was perfectly healthy, just in a foul mood.

  Well, that made two of them.

  During the discussion, she was encouraged to let Silas cry a bit. In Mia’s mind, two months seemed far too young to expect a baby to self-soothe, but she supposed the suggestion was more about giving her some space and a measure of peace than for her son.

  Choosing to believe Jarvis’s claim that they wouldn’t be found, Mia buckled Silas into his car seat and stepped outside. She set her cell phone timer for ten minutes and focused on the stunning mountains in the distance while her son’s miserable cries nearly broke her heart.

  It was the worst ten minutes of her life. She rushed back to him and cuddled him close, murmuring nonsensical apologies. Neither she nor her son were any happier for the experiment, but no one could accuse her of not complying with professional guidance.

  Swaying side to side with Silas in the crook of her arm, she picked up her phone to call Tamara. No, no, no. That call would leave Tamara in the awkward position of lying if Regina asked about Mia and Silas. Babies and mothers had been surviving moments like this since the beginning of time. It wasn’t pretty or fun, but they would get through.

  She paced outside, wishing for a cool breeze, but nature didn’t cooperate, just gave her more of the still afternoon heat. If they’d been home, in her suite at her father’s house, she would’ve had Silas’s swing or bath seat. She would’ve had the option to relax outside in the glider swing under the shade tree, where she’d grown up chatting with her mother about anything and everything.

  Everything but the emptiness that death would leave. She hadn’t known to ask about that. After moving back in, that glider was where she’d first talked to Silas about the grandmother he would never know. That special place had been where she dreamed about a yard of her own with a swing set, sandbox and a baby pool for her son.

  Her father had mentioned creating a space for his grandson with all of those things in his yard, whether or not she stayed. He’d wanted to have everything that would keep Silas happy when they visited. Thanks to Regina, that grand plan was wrecked. Mia had been shoved out of her father’s life until she found a viable solution. Regina would never accept Mia’s promise to keep quiet about what she’d seen, which meant Silas would never be safe at their home. Gone was her hope for family dinners and frequent visits with Grandpa, reminiscing over the past and imagining the future. It hurt her heart to think Silas would grow up without his grandpa and they’d never enjoy those strong family connections.

  Rehashing all those unpleasant and bleak thoughts wouldn’t do her any good. While Silas fussed, sweat dampening his downy-soft baby curls, she sang to him, praying that something would break this wretched cycle they seemed to be mired in.

  “You’re so tired, baby,” she said, tears of exhaustion welling up in her eyes. “It’s okay to sleep. We’re safe.” Was she convincing him or herself? It didn’t make much difference. If he relaxed, she could do the same.

  Growing desperate, she carried him inside and straight to the bathroom. Removing his onesie and her T-shirt and shorts, Mia turned on the shower. Picking up her son, she stepped under the spray, keeping the water lukewarm. The water put a halt to their combined tears as the fine spray hit her skin and misted around his tiny form. The sudden quiet was such a relief, even if he wasn’t asleep.

  The blissful reprieve lasted while she toweled them both off. Wrapped in a towel, she curled up on the bunk and fed him until he dozed off. Confident he was sleeping, she gently laid him down on a folded blanket on the floor and inched away, holding her breath.

  His limbs twitched and he sighed, but he didn’t cry. She counted it a victory when she was able to get her clothing on without interruption.

  Though her eyelids were heavy and her energy gone, she resisted the urge to stretch out and sleep. She opened her laptop and used her mobile hot spot to connect to the internet, looking for any signs that her father might have reached out in concern, or that Regina had been slinging mud against her.

  It didn’t take long to find her stepmother’s comments on Mia’s most recent social media posts. There was the inquiry about getting back to work with a link to an article on working-mom solutions, as well as a gushing comment about seeing the “sweet grandbaby” soon. Though the wording was correct and polite, Mia read the underlying sneer behind them.

  She noticed a picture of centerpieces on Regina’s time line, along with a comment about an upcoming gathering to honor her “amazing husband” in which she expressed high hopes that the whole family would be there.

  Mia choked on the water she was sipping, smothering the sounds so she wouldn’t wake Silas. As if she’d bring her baby to an event hosted by that crocodile. Yes, she wanted desperately to see her father, to speak with him privately, but not with the threats against Silas ringing in her ears.

  But then another dreadful thought crossed her mind. What if Regina meant to hurt Norton at the party? It would give her the perfect alibi: a hundred or so close friends milling about, all of them witnesses to the tragically premature death of her beloved, wealthy, investment-banker husband.

  Mia rubbed her gritty eyes. She should go to the party, if only to protect her father. It wasn’t exactly party-crashing after Regina’s public comments on social media. If she didn’t attend, she’d be setting herself up for criticism from everyone else in town, but if she did go, who would protect Silas?

  There was the small problem that she didn’t have anything to wear. The dress she’d been wearing the day she’d caught Regina cheating wasn’t dressy enough for the evening. She hadn’t been thinking about formal wear when she’d packed in a rush to get her son to safety. Mia pushed to her feet and started to pace. Worrying about a dress wasn’t the priority.

  She’d never regretted moving back into the suite at her father’s house more than she did right this minute. Going back meant leaving herself and her son vulnerable to attack. She couldn’t watch Silas and Regina every single minute, not without help, anyway.

  Her relationship with Regina had been fraught from their first introduction, but she’d never expected it to devolve into murderous threats. Mia had been a teenager and not the least bit interested in a replacement mother. Good thing, too. Regina hadn’t b
een interested in anything resembling maternal affection. That rough start had grown over with thorny vines and choked with spiky weeds.

  Their mutual dislike had escalated into cutting sarcasm through the years as Regina successfully pushed Mia out of the nest. Her concerns had been interpreted—thanks to Regina whispering in Norton’s ear—as the antics of a spoiled girl who didn’t want to share her daddy.

  Looking back, Mia could see where she’d gone wrong with her constant griping about the unfairness of life in general and her stepmother in particular. By the time she’d learned to keep her thoughts to herself, Regina had complete control of Norton’s affection and opinions. When Mia had discovered her college fund was empty and confronted her father and stepmother, it shouldn’t have been a shock that her father believed his wife’s lies over his daughter’s truth.

  Another battle lost to her father’s blind love for the viper he’d married. She’d vowed that would be the last battle, choosing to make her own way, using what she knew and the natural abilities and strengths at her disposal.

  Modeling had covered tuition and expenses. She’d built up her professional network and cultivated friendships outside of her father’s sphere of influence and therefore out of Regina’s grasping reach.

  And now she was locked in another battle. Alone. Her father would never believe his wife had threatened his grandson. He’d been slowly convinced Mia was a perpetual problem, always in need of help, especially after the pregnancy ended her marriage. She never should’ve accepted his offer to move back in. Her father meant well and she’d been feeling vulnerable enough to go for it. Shame on her for believing things might be different now that she and Regina were adults. The house was big enough that they could have easily avoided each other.

  Mia had been willing to let the past lie, but obviously Regina had felt threatened. In hindsight, Mia suspected that Regina had always worried about Mia catching her sleeping around.

  Well, she’d done that.