Lone Tree by Bobbie O'Keefe Read Free Book Online Page B

do with the fact that Reed Smith was
bossy. It was due instead to the strong draw she felt every time she looked at
him, talked to him, thought about him, even when she was mad at him.
    Closing her house door behind her, she leaned back
against it. Okay, define strong draw.
    Being ruthlessly honest, she answered herself.
Sexual interest.
    Then she exhaled in a long, drawn-out whoosh. She
needed this even less than she wanted a good kick in the rear. She was not
interested in a romantic liaison, especially one with her grandfather’s
foreman.
    Although she and Reed hadn’t even shared a kiss—the
word yet popped up and she squeezed her eyes closed against it—she’d
looked at that sensual mouth a couple of times and thought about tasting it.
But she didn’t want to think about that. Neither did she want to think about
what it would feel like to have his arms wrapped around her...how hard and good
his body might feel next to hers.
    Nope, she didn’t want her mind going there. But,
dammit, it was already there.
    *
    The next day, as Lainie exited the main house in the
early afternoon, she spied two men riding up on horseback. One wore a baseball
cap instead of a cowboy hat. That was enough to catch her attention, but the
other one looked like he just rode off a movie set. He was tall enough in the
saddle that he’d probably stand eye to eye with Miles, wore a traditional
high-crowned hat, was broad-shouldered and lean-hipped. The Marlboro man
without the Marlboro.
    A short-haired, rangy-looking dog trotted alongside
the horses. Lainie was reminded of Reed’s comment about cow dogs being able to
run all day. This one looked like a well-trained, hard-working animal.
    The tall cowboy gave Lainie a long look and bowed
his head. She nodded back. The two men dismounted and led their horses into the
stable. She was on her way to her car and had to pass the stable to get to the
enclosed shed that acted as a garage. The Marlboro man stepped out as she
approached.
    He tipped his hat without removing it. “Mack
Jameson,” he said by way of greeting.
    “Lainie Johnson.” She recognized his name. “You’ve
just arrived from the Lazy L Ranch. With Andy.”
    “That I did. And it appears the old man might’ve
found his secretary.”
    “That he did.”
    He was somewhere between thirty and forty, had gray
eyes, maybe two days’ worth of whiskers. She had the nagging impression she’d
met him before.
    He watched her with a thoughtful look, as if he
might have the same feeling she did. “You’re not from around here. You sound
like...the West Coast? California maybe?”
    Lainie smiled. “You’re good.”
    He returned the smile. “You’d make this good man a happy
one if you’d let him show you around this part of the country.”
    Then his gaze lifted from hers at the same moment
she felt a presence behind her, and a hand then rested briefly on her shoulder.
“Oh.” She looked up, startled. “Reed. Hi.”
    “Lainie. Howdy, Mack. It go all right?” Reed’s
thumbs were hooked inside his pockets as he spoke to Mack. His hand had left
Lainie’s shoulder as soon as it’d touched her.
    “Yeah.” Mack turned the word into two lazy syllables.
“Two windmills went out on them, one right after the other.”
    “So I heard. Dinner’s still out on the sideboard.”
    “I’ll tell Andy. Soon as I see to Misty, I’ll see to
my stomach.”
    The gaze Mack now rested on Lainie held more
distance than interest. “I see how it is,” he said as he tipped his hat, then
he turned back to the stable.
    Lainie narrowed her eyes as she watched his back. I
see how it is ?
    “Where you off to?” Reed asked.
    She turned in time to catch him checking out her
sandals, but she didn’t respond to the implied assumption he had a right to
know where she was going if she wasn’t wearing recommended footgear. Actually,
she was going into town to buy the boots, but he didn’t need to know that.
    She tilted her head, squinted at him. “Did