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Chloe spent a lot of time online with her clients, reassuring them all that nothing had changed. She was still on top of the events they’d scheduled with her, and assured them that invitations, supplies and reservations were on track. When she could, she spent time helping her neighbors clean up the mess on the street, and by the end of day two she was exhausted.
Through it all though, her mind kept drifting back to Liam. She hadn’t heard from him since the afternoon they walked out of the TCC together and went back to their own lives. She missed him. Missed talking to him, laughing with him, missed the sex, a lot. And she wondered if he was feeling any of this. Or had he been grateful to get back to his real life and leave her behind?
On the third day, when she was sure Houston would move on without her, Chloe packed a bag and headed for the Perry Ranch.
* * *
Five days later, she was forced to admit—at least to herself—that ranching was a lot harder than it looked. She’d never been more tired, yet at the same time, she felt a sense of satisfaction she’d never known before. Finally, she was living out what her ten-year-old self had dreamed of.
She’d agreed to Liam’s conditions for a couple of reasons—one, she wanted more time with him. Two days in a storm simply weren’t enough. But second, she’d wanted to prove to herself that she was up to the task. That she was completely capable of doing the ranching work her father had laughed at her over. And yes, maybe she was trying to prove something to Liam too.
He had a way of looking at her that told her he was half waiting for her to complain about her manicure or about getting dirty or tired. Well, she might have been raised to be a dainty princess, but that wasn’t the real Chloe and it was important to her—for reasons she didn’t want to think about—that Liam know that. She wanted not only his desire, she wanted his respect. And the only way to get that was to earn it.
Of course, using a pitchfork to clean out a horse’s stall wasn’t the way she’d have chosen, but at least the double doors at either end of the stable were open to let the breeze slide through, and Chloe was grateful. It was as if that massive storm hadn’t happened at all. April in Texas was already hot, steaming toward a blistering summer.
“And speaking of blisters...” She set the pitchfork aside, tore off her left glove and sighed.
“Problem?” Liam walked down the wide aisle to join her.
She jolted, surprised at his appearance. He moved so stealthily sometimes she didn’t know he was there until he spoke. Now she turned to look at him. Even in the stable’s shadows, those blue eyes of his seemed to burn.
“Nope. No problem.” Chloe put her glove back on. She refused to complain about any task he gave her, and she’d be damned if she’d whine about a stupid blister, when she knew darn well that’s what he was expecting.
“Let’s see it,” he said, and grabbed her hand, tugging the leather glove off to inspect her palm. “Yep, that’s a big one.”
“I’m fine,” she said stiffly, desperately trying to disregard the heat pumping through her from the simple touch of his hand on hers.
Since she’d been on the ranch they hadn’t been together once. She’d been sleeping in his guest room, catching glimpses of him every night and early in the morning as they passed each other on the way to the coffeepot. He didn’t talk so much as grunt. He left her training to Mike, the new foreman, and mostly seemed to be deliberately avoiding being near her.
Chloe could only think that he was regretting what they’d shared during the storm, and that just made her furious. Those two days had been magical for her, and she knew damn well he’d been affected too. But to have him now trying to brush it all aside as if it had never happened made her both sad and livid.
Especially annoying was that just standing this close to Liam had her body humming and her breath shortening into what sounded like gasps even to her. This was humiliating, because apparently Liam was having zero trouble being beside her.
Had he really felt nothing during the storm?
“Come on,” he said, keeping a tight grip on her hand so she couldn’t get away. “There’s some ointment in the tack room.”
