Fortune's Hero

“May I come out to your place tomorrow?” she asked, her insides churning. He apparently didn’t have a high opinion of her. She’d like the opportunity to change that.

“Not a good idea.”

Her brows went up. “That wasn’t a no.”

He touched a finger to her chin, then dragged it down her neck, his expression intense. “It sure as hell wasn’t a yes. Good night, princess.”

“See you around, cowboy,” she replied, pleased her voice didn’t shake.

She watched him walk away and sighed. The skin he’d touched still burned. She’d always wondered what it would be like to want a man like that, really want him. Now she knew.

It probably wasn’t smart on her part, trying to get him to meet with her again and see what happened, but an insistent voice in her head—and heart—was telling her to pursue him. She’d always been the resistant one, the person to keep a suitor at arm’s length. Now the tables were turned, and she totally understood the frustration of being rejected, or at least being held off.

She wasn’t proud of her past behavior, but in her own defense, she hadn’t understood it, either.

Emily returned. They put on their jackets and walked back to the Mendoza house.

“You looked like you wanted to gobble that man up,” Emily said.

“Too bad he wasn’t on the menu,” Victoria said, smiling, enjoying the crisp April evening. Life was so different here from Atlanta, so starkly different. “Wendy seems to love living here, Em. I never would’ve predicted that.”

“I’m not sure it’s the where but the who. She loves Marcos. That’s all that matters to her. Plus she found a passion for making desserts, so now she has a career. Add in motherhood …” Her voice trailed off. She shrugged.

“Are you envious?” Victoria asked. “I know how much you want to be a mother. It would be good to have a husband first.”

“In an ideal world. How about you? Unlike me, you’ve never talked about—”

“Obsessed about, you mean,” Victoria interrupted.

Emily nodded. “I admit to an obsession. Anyway, you’ve never said anything about wanting a family.”

“I’ve given it some thought, but I’m not in a hurry. I don’t think I’ve found me yet. I’ve got a job that doesn’t excite me, but I don’t know what else I want to do. I have great friends, but they’re settling into relationships and careers, so I feel at a loss a lot of the time. I’ve gotten restless.”

As they left the downtown, the night seemed darker and quieter, and yet Victoria felt safe. She didn’t know how safe she would feel at Pete’s Retreat. Garrett’s desolate location, where animals and humans could be hovering without anyone knowing, made her nervous. What a city girl she was.

Victoria’s cell rang just as they reached the house. Emily went inside, leaving Victoria alone on the porch.

“Coward,” Victoria said into the phone instead of hello.

“No question about it,” her cousin Jordana said. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stay any longer. Couldn’t do what I said I would.”

“Your sisters are worried about you. They think you’re seriously ill.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That they shouldn’t worry, because you’re not. But you know you’ll be showing soon. How long do you expect to keep your secret?”

“I already can’t fasten some of my pants.”

“Then you can’t delay. And Jordana? Tanner deserves to know.”

“Soon,” she said. “I’m not ready. How about you? Did you meet your rescuer?”

“I did.” She told her cousin about her visit with Garrett, although not about the kiss. “As soon as I get home, we’ll talk.”

“When you were at the airport, did you …”

“See Tanner?” Victoria said, finishing her question. “No. But it’s Sunday, and the flight school probably isn’t open on Sunday. The building looks pretty much done. It was hard for me to tell without going inside.”

After they ended their conversation, Victoria sat on the porch steps. The air felt cooler now that she wasn’t moving, but she didn’t seek the warmth of the house yet. She set her arms on her knees and rested her chin there, her eyes closed. It’d been a long day, but she needed to examine it, needed to decide if she was truly taken with Garrett or the idea of him—what she’d built up in her mind. That he’d added to his list of heroic qualities by taking her to the airport deepened her need to see him again.

It wasn’t like her to fall so quickly and so hard. Maybe his resistance had presented her with a challenge, and she didn’t have many challenges in her life these days. It was exhilarating. She felt anxious for night to come so the next day could start. It’d been months since that had happened. Maybe longer than that.

Without question, she had to see him again. She couldn’t go home with her mind full of him. It would be worse than the nightmares from the tornado. At least those were limited to nighttime. Garrett would haunt her daytime hours, too.

She stood then, her decision made. She would figure out a way to see him again, somehow let him see the real Victoria—at least the one she wanted to become because of him.

Chapter Three

“She’s fourteen years younger than me,” Garrett said the next morning to his hound as he followed along to the next stall. “Plus she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. And she’s … she’s short.”

Pete wagged his tail, the dog equivalent of “I hear you, man.”

Garrett tossed used straw into a wheelbarrow. “On the other hand, she is just passing through. That’s a good thing, right?”

Pete cocked his head and whined a little.

“I get it. She’s the marrying kind. I need to remember that.”

Pete looked away then took off running at the same moment Garrett heard a car coming down his driveway. The rest of the dogs followed. It was probably the straw he’d ordered earlier being delivered. At least he hoped so.

No such luck. He spotted Victoria’s car. She tapped the horn twice and the dogs scattered except Pete and Abel. Pete stopped when Garrett did. Abel hurried over to greet her. Garrett didn’t call him off.

“Well, don’t you look all spiffy,” she said, grinning. “Those rubber boots are the height of fashion.” She was wearing the same thing she’d worn yesterday, except her shirt was deep purple, low cut and a little frilly. Garrett had a soft spot for feminine frills, even more if they were red, lacy and barely covering a fine female body. He wondered what she was wearing underneath …

“I’ve been muckin’ manure, princess. Wanna help?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe another time.”

“Uh-huh.”

She made the mistake of stopping downwind of him. After a second, she waved her hand in front of her face. “You weren’t kidding.”

“You take your chances when you come uninvited.” He cupped her arms and reversed their positions.

“I thought you’d like to know that I didn’t have the nightmare last night,” she said.

He’d had one. It’d been a hell of a night, in fact. “Good. So, now you’ve come to say goodbye?”