Chapter7
Jack flewdown the flight of stairs, the nonstop hammering from Cody remodeling the bathroom reverberating through his body. The noise had also kicked him out of bed, after he’d finally fallen asleep, following a night of tossing and turning like a catfish in a fryer. Somehow, the so-called friendship, the clean break, the truce they’d promised each other did nothing to dampen his inner turmoil. His desire for her. His conflicting emotions.
The emotions lurking just below the surface of basic cordiality he’d struggled to maintain. Deep down, he still wanted her gone. Out of his life, where she couldn’t do more damage. He wanted a new lease on life, and the legal end of his marriage would bring him a fresh beginning.
Jack tipped his hat at Consuelo, grabbed a cup for coffee and poured the steamy liquid from the sleek machine.
“Morning to you too.” Consuelo wiped her hands on the apron and placed an exquisite coffee cake on the table, next to a selection of fruits, juices, and toasts. Even after the two years of working for him, the lady insisted and prepared breakfast, though he’d consistently told her he didn’t eat much in the morning. Like hisdad.
Every time he started to make comparisons with his own flesh and blood, his heart took a sharp twist. He had enough in common with his father to worry. But the fear he’d let a volatile, inconsistent woman turn his life around and run away whenever it suited her, made his stomach churn.
Jack lifted the cup to his lips, gulping down the hot, strong liquid. Anxiety crept under his skin. “Where’sLola?”
Consuelo placed both hands on her waist, with a snicker. “I’m doing great, mijo,thankyou.”
He placed the cup on the sink and grabbed a piece of coffee cake. “Sorry.”
Consuelo waved him off. “She’s outside. Poor chica has been trying to start the hot mess she calls a truck for a while.”
“She shouldn’t have bought that piece of crap,” he said, taking a bite of the cake. She shouldn’t have come back. She should have sold me her half. Wasn’t it obvious? He understood she’d begun some sort of existential journey after losing her father, but not at the cost of the ranch.
Consuelo tilted her head to the side, and a challenge sparked in her dark eyes. “You should helpher.”
“I can’t make things easier forher.”
“What happened to you, Jack? You are the most generous person I know. You’re always helping those in need, but whenever Lola is around, you change. Why?”
He wiped his mouth on the napkin and kicked his chair back, surging to his feet. Consuelo had a valid point. He couldn’t give Lola the satisfaction of knowing how much she affected him. “Fine,” he said under his breath.
He left the kitchen, but a few moments later, he realized he wasn’t ready for the sight in front of him. Lola St. James, her delectable ass up in the air as she leaned over the engine.
Libido stirred strong and hard inside him, and he had to evoke all kinds of cockblocking images to wipe the very real one just before his eyes. Time to think about Dad, politicians, and buckets of icy water. Anything to yank the blood pounding thoughts invading his brain, and corrupting his soul. But no descriptions surpassed the cold truth, no matter how much he’d tried to fool himself. We aren’t done. Notyet.
Straightening his nearly sagging shoulders, like he’d just been punched in the gut, he crunched the dry leaves under his boots, and walked over toher.
Perhaps sensing his nearness, she arched back, easing the kinks out of herback.
A hot pink shirt outlined her voluptuous breasts and indented the sensual curve of her stomach—the same shorts he’d seen her wearing on the horseback ride showcased her sinful long legs. The thread of sweat on her face and glistening between her breasts assured him she’d been under the sun for a while.
He cleared his throat. “What are you doing?”
She jammed both hands in her pockets, a pang of frustration in her eyes. “Trying to get this sucker towork.”
He gave a sideways glance to the bare engine. “What’s the problem?”
“It won’t start. I popped the hood and hoped to see some smoke or something to clue me in as to why this is happening.”
Turning his attention to her, he placed his hand over his eyes to fight the blinding sun. Bad idea. Rays hit her head and shone around, producing a halo effect, outlining the curly ends of her hair—that would look glorious, spread on his pillow. With a shudder, he curled his fists into balls. “And what would you do if it smoked?”
She chewed on her lower lip. “Besides praying my skin wouldn’t get oily? I hoped to find an open lid I could close. It seems easy enough in the movies.”
Smothering a chuckle, he leaned onto the engine. After a quick survey, he shook his hands. “You need a new alternator. It won’t start likethis.”
She slapped her forehead and sighed. “Of course.”
He closed the hood and tapped the metal. “I can ask Earl to sort this out, but it’ll take at least a few hours to get it done,” he said, describing the best case scenario. Earl would have to stop his work and go into town to buy a new alternator and hire a mechanic to changeit.
“How much will itcost?”
