Anything For Love Read online

  He doubted Charlotte would even notice if they had. Did she ever check after the cleaning crew to make sure they’d done their jobs? From what he’d seen, she never left her damn office except to gather eggs in the morning.

  In her underwear.

  Heat streaked through him as images of her dancing seared through his mind. She was so damn sexy in those rubber boots and panties. He would have liked to have taken her in his arms right there in the grass, with the sun beating down on them and those woodsy eyes gazing up at him.

  The sound of the front door opening jerked him from his fantasy. He wiped his hands on a rag and peered out of the kitchen. A linebacker-sized man wearing a cowboy hat and carrying two grocery bags in each arm and another in each hand was heading for the stairs.

  “Hey,” Beau said, stopping him before he went any farther.

  “Hi. You must be the guy who’s fixing up the inn. I’m Cutter. I’d shake your hand, but…” He glanced at the bags and smirked. “Girl’s got me pretty loaded down.”

  “I’m Beau. Nice to meet you. Thanks for reminding me. I need to make a trip to the grocery store.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Charlotte hooked you up. I’ve got steaks, chicken, fish, and all sorts of food for you. Not everyone can live on protein bars.”

  Beau ran an assessing eye over him. “You work for Charlotte?”

  Cutter scoffed. “Don’t we all?” He winked. “But I really work at the Woodlands Dude Ranch.”

  “You work for Wes? I’m his cousin.”

  “Small world. Have you seen Wes and Callie’s little girl, Belle? She’s so damn cute. Makes me almost want one of my own.”

  “Yeah, she’s a cutie.”

  “Well, I’d better get downstairs. Can’t leave my girl hanging. She needs her fix, if you know what I mean.”

  Cutter winked again, grating on Beau’s nerves, right along with his outright claim of Charlotte being his girl.

  “She’s in her office.”

  “Yeah, I know where to find her. Gotta get in and get out. It’s ladies’ night around town.”

  “Really? Charlotte’ll like that. Seems like she needs to get out a bit more.”

  Cutter smirked. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before Charlotte gives up writing time for anything, much less a bar. Have a good one.”

  Beau watched him descend the stairs. He seemed like a nice enough guy, if Beau could ignore the fact that the asshole was looking forward to ladies’ night without his girl. Beau’s hands curled into fists. There was no way in hell he’d let Charlotte get hurt by him. He made another addition on his Things to Talk to Charlotte About list. Right under security, he mentally scribbled, cheating assholes. Then he shoved that sucker to the top of the list and went back to work, trying to ignore the fact that he felt protective of her in ways that he shouldn’t.

  A little more than an hour later, he headed downstairs to make sure Charlotte was still alive, and to shower. The woman was really married to that keyboard. As he approached her door, he heard her giggle, and it brought a smile to his lips.

  Until he realized he hadn’t seen Cowboy leave.

  When he stalked into his suite, he saw the handcuffs hanging on his headboard and made a mental note to cut the damn things off.

  CHARLOTTE’S OFFICE WAS too dark. She had never noticed that before Mr. Hot and Serious came along, but after hours of writing and then catching up with Cutter, it was suddenly all she could think about. Maybe that was because her muse bank was empty and needed a refill. Beau had been less than generous with his shirtless self today. She’d seen him carrying supplies up from the workshop only once. They needed to talk about security, all right. She needed security cameras so she could get an eyeful of inspiration anytime she needed it.

  Or wanted it.

  Great. Now I sound as creepy as a stalker.

  She stood up and stretched, telling herself she was merely looking for inspiration, but even thinking about Beau made her pulse quicken. She’d talked through a few potential scenes with Cutter, which usually put her in a fantastic mood, but she had absolutely no idea what should happen next in her book, and her mind kept revisiting that flash of sadness she’d seen in Beau’s eyes. She’d been so sidetracked by it, she’d even written a similar scene into her story. Her editor was probably going to make her take it out, because erotic romance was driven by sex more than tender emotions, but she wasn’t going to worry about that now. At least she was writing again. She was going to Port Hudson, New York, to meet with her editor at the end of the Mad Prix awards weekend, and she had promised to send the first third of the manuscript the week before. She’d already delayed the meeting once, and now she was down to the wire.

  She needed to stop worrying about what she’d seen in Beau’s eyes and get back to the ruse so she could get some inspiration and keep writing. But even the thought of toying with him felt wrong.

  She walked by the light switch and swatted at it. “Stupid light.” The lights came on, and she stilled. “Holy crap. You fixed it?” She flicked the switch on and off, delighted with the discovery. She couldn’t stop smiling as she went into her kitchen to unpack the groceries. She and Cutter had come up with a system that didn’t interrupt her writing process. He separated the frozen and refrigerated items into separate bags and put the bags in the fridge and freezer for her to sort later, and he left the pantry items in bags on the counter.

  There were no bags on the counter. She opened the refrigerator and found the contents neatly unpacked and organized. Surprised, she opened the freezer and found more of the same. Cutter wasn’t the kind of guy to forget to bring food or to go to the trouble of putting the groceries away. She’d met him when she was researching dude ranches for a book, and they’d hit it off right away. When he’d found out she sometimes went days eating nothing but eggs from the chickens, so she wouldn’t have to give up writing time to drive down the mountain, he’d offered to bring her groceries. He was a lifesaver, like the big brother she’d never had.

  Beau must have unpacked the groceries. She went upstairs to find him.

  She stood in the middle of the first floor and called out, “Beau?” Answered with silence, she weaved in and out of the study and dining room calling after him, and finally went into the main kitchen.

  She ran her hands over the sparkling counters and along the front of the cabinet doors, several of which were no longer hanging from their hinges like loose teeth. Beau’s been a busy boy. She never used the main kitchen. It was too big and reminded her that she was alone. She didn’t really like cooking anyway. She’d much rather be writing than worrying about bake times and ingredients.

  She looked through the glass terrace door and saw Beau standing by the stone barbecue, flipping a steak. Her heart rate kicked up, and she told herself to calm down as she drank in every inch of him, from his damp hair to the more relaxed look on his face and his kissable lips as he tipped his beer up to them. Boy had Cutter given her a hard time when she’d asked him to bring beer and wine coolers. Just admit it; you’re into the guy. She’d denied it vehemently and would have sworn on it if he’d made her, because Cutter has been all over her for years about living such a solitary life. She liked her life, and she’d tried giving men a chance, but a relationship wasn’t in the cards for her.

  Beau glanced over. His chocolate eyes locked on hers, then slid down her body. Tingles skated up her limbs and skied down to her core, plowing to a scorching halt low in her belly. He lifted his chin. God, she loved that casual, manly acknowledgment. He pointed to the grill and lifted his brows. Then he pointed to her. She was aware of every move he made, but her eyes never left his. The sadness was still there, simmering beneath the I’m-just-a-serious-guy mask she now saw so clearly, and she wondered how she’d missed it before.

  She must have been staring at him for too long, because he held his hand palm-up and turned away. She inhaled a ragged breath, a little nervous about having noticed so much about him. It was easier when she cou
ld just be her sassy masked self. But she’d never been able to ignore another person’s pain, and Beau was doing all sorts of things that weren’t on the repair list. She could no sooner ignore his emotions than she could ignore her need to write.

  She stepped outside, and the brisk evening air swept over her midriff, reminding her she’d left her button-down shirt hanging over the chair in her office and was wearing only a black tank top and cutoffs. Okay, maybe Beau’s heated gaze should have tipped her off, but she hadn’t been thinking about clothes when she’d seen him through the door.

  A heavenly aroma surrounded her. It had been so long since she’d smelled anything this delicious, hunger like she’d never felt before trampled the lust he’d stirred.

  “I’ll pay big bucks for a piece of whatever you’re making,” she said as she joined him by the barbecue.

  The evening breeze picked up his fresh, musky scent, obliterating any thoughts of food. What did he do, bathe in Potent Male body wash? And why did he seem so much bigger every time she saw him?

  She grabbed his beer from his hand and took a gulp.

  He chuckled. “Would you like me to get you a beer from the fridge?”

  “No, thanks. I hate beer. But my mouth was dry.” He was watching her so intently her mouth went dry again. Oh man, what was wrong with her? She downed the rest of his beer without thinking.

  “I see it’s a love-hate relationship.” His gaze lightened with the tease. He stepped closer, sucking up all the oxygen as he took the empty bottle from her.

  “Sorry. I’ll get you another.”

  He was already two steps ahead of her. As soon as he walked inside, she filled her lungs with air. Yup. He was definitely an oxygen thief.

  He came out with two beers and set one on the table. “That’s for the next time you’re parched.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Why do you have beer in your fridge if you don’t drink…?” He winced and said, “I’m an idiot. Cutter. Sorry. I should have thought about him. I’ll replace his beers.”

  “No. They were meant for you.”

  The edge of his mouth twitched. “Really?”

  “Yes. I normally drink wine coolers, but your beer actually tasted good. I think I’ll have that beer after all.” Pulling herself together, she grabbed the other bottle and took a sip. “Ew. This one doesn’t taste so good.” She swapped it with the one in his hand and took a sip of his. He was looking at her like she was ridiculous. “I swear this one tastes better.”

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Who knows what goes on with chemicals, right? The kitchen looks amazing, by the way. You didn’t have to do all that work. Thank you.”

  “It didn’t take long.” He gazed out over the lake, his expression serious again.

  She peeked at the grill as if she knew something about cooking. Beside two steaks were tinfoil bundles with steam seeping out from where he’d cinched the sides together. “This smells delicious. Do you have enough to share?”

  “Half’s got your name on it.”

  “Thank you. I almost never cook, although I can make a mean pancake. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll make you some one day. My motto is, if it can’t be eaten raw, straight out of the wrapper, heated up on a hot plate, or microwaved, it’s not worth the trouble.”

  “Pancakes,” he said softly. “What do you do with the eggs you collect if you don’t eat them?”

  “I eat them. I just stick them in the microwave.” Ignoring his disapproving look, she hiked herself up and sat on the railing.

  “Whoa.” He swept his arm behind her. “Careful. I tightened up those balusters, but they’re not made for sitting on.”

  She looked at the railings, trying to ignore the heat of his hand blazing through the back of her shirt, and said, “Seems to be okay.”

  He shook his head and kept his arm around her, a firm barrier between life and death.

  “Why are you so serious?” She patted the railing beside her. “Climb up.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Come on,” she urged. “When’s the last time you did something just for the sake of enjoying it?”

  “I’m cooking because I enjoy it.”

  “I have a feeling you’re cooking because you need to fuel your body to get through tomorrow.”

  He drank his beer without answering. She didn’t like being shut out, even if they’d only just met.

  “So, tell me…” She waited until he looked at her. When she had his attention, she asked, “Why did your relatives send you out here instead of just wrangling Rex or one of your other cousins who live in Colorado to help me out? If they wanted to pay for the repairs so badly, they could have even hired a local handyman.”

  “Probably because it’s not about paying. They care about you, Charlotte, and they want to make sure the job is done right. Rex runs a ranch; he’s not a builder. And my other cousins in the area aren’t either. This is what I do for a living. Also, my cousins all have families and can’t put in the time here.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I have a family, but not one of my own. No wife and kids.”

  “Why not?”

  He sipped his beer, clearly not interested in answering.

  “Come on,” she urged. “No long-term girlfriend? No pretty little filly hoping for a ring?”

  He looked at her with the same serious expression. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  She sipped her beer, and his hand pressed more firmly against her back. “Afraid I’ll fall?”

  He didn’t answer, but his lips tipped up in another almost-smile.

  She wrapped her fingers around his arm, and his muscles flexed against her palm. She couldn’t resist trying to earn a real smile. “If I fall, I’m taking you with me.”

  “Think you’re strong enough to take me with you?”

  “Think you’re strong enough to keep me from doing it?” she challenged.

  He drank his beer, staring out at the setting sun, his hand still firmly in place.

  Well, there was one way to get his attention. A little flirtation might even get him to open up. If nothing else, she’d get more fodder for her story. She ran her fingers lightly over his muscles, enjoying the darkening of his eyes so much, she trailed her fingers along his shoulder and neck, all the way to his jaw. His scruff was short and remarkably soft, in direct contrast to his hard jaw beneath it.

  “Charlotte…”

  His warning was clear, but she didn’t care. “What? Are you afraid of a little human contact?” She liked the way he looked at her, like she was someone who could get under his skin. But she hated the way he quickly swept it under the carpet, his expression turning to granite.

  “Hardly,” he ground out. “Are there any more cowboys dropping by that I should know about?”

  “Cowboys?”

  He gave her a slant-eyed stare. “Mountain men?”

  “Cutter?” Laughter burst from her lips, and she lost her balance. “Beau!” She clung to his arms as he hauled her off the rail.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, holding her against him tightly as he searched her eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” came out breathless. “Thanks.”

  He held her a beat longer. Long enough for her to feel the heat of his gaze burrowing into her and to think about the way his thumb was moving in a slow rhythm on her arm. It felt like something had shifted, like maybe he was feeling this new connection, too.

  He released her abruptly and stepped over to the grill.

  Had she imagined the intimate way he’d touched her? The way he’d looked at her? Because his eyes were now trained on the steaks. He grabbed two plates she hadn’t noticed earlier and moved the tinfoil bundles away from the flames. His jaw was clenched again. It must hurt to carry around that much tension. She watched as he piled steaks, vegetables, and sliced potatoes onto the plates, all flecked with spices. It smelled so scrumptious she might have moaned.

  He handed her a plate
, shoved a hand into the pocket of his cargo pants, and withdrew a fork and knife for each of them. “We should talk about security.”

  “Security?” She set her plate on the table, and he took the seat across from her. He was a master at changing subjects, but how could he ignore the heat between them?

  “Yes. I’m pretty sure your boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate you traipsing around in your panties or leaving all the doors unlocked. And that’s another thing. I should be aware if you’ve got more guys coming up, so I know who to expect and who I need to worry about.” He stabbed his fork into the steak and cut off a hunk, then shoved it in his mouth.

  “Boyfriend?”

  “Grocery boy, whatever.” He stabbed another piece of meat.

  She stifled a laugh. “Cutter is one of my closest friends.”

  Beau arched a brow, his expression still serious. “Do you try to sleep with all the guys who work for you?”

  Her jaw dropped open. “First of all, I don’t sleep with Cutter, and second of all, what the hell?” Hell came out sounding equally amused and irritated.

  “I’m just saying that I should be aware if there are going to be men coming in and out of this place, so I don’t accidentally kill one.” He speared another hunk of meat.

  “Oh, so now you’re killing my fictional boyfriends? Because that’s the only type I have. I’ll try to keep them in line.”

  He gave her a deadpan look.

  “You need to lighten up,” she said, pointing her fork at him.

  “Maybe if you were a little less light, you’d see the trouble with traipsing around in your underwear.”

  She liked his overly protective nature, even if it was confusing, given that he kept pulling away from her. It had been a long time since anyone had worried about her like that.

  She ate a piece of steak, closing her eyes and savoring the flavor as it melted in her mouth and exploded over her taste buds with near-orgasmic perfection. “Mm.”