Brielle was shocked when she saw the woman’s cheeks turn pink. Gosh. Was flirting in the air? Brielle just plopped onto the seat next to Eileen.
“I’m so sorry we haven’t gotten back out to see you sooner, Brielle,” Bethel told her. “We were planning on coming out last week and bringing you pie, but one of the ladies at church got sick, and we ended up taking care of her dogs.”
“You don’t have to bring me anything,” Brielle replied.
“Well, of course we do, darling,” Eileen said. “You’re a single lady up in that big old ranch house all alone. We have to take care of you.”
And now Maggie spoke. “Yes, and I want you to come over for our midsummer celebration next week. I always plan on sending out formal invites, but no one really needs them. They already know we put on a great picnic and show by our lake.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Brielle said, shifting in her seat and more than grateful when the waitress came up and told her and her father about the special. She ordered it without much thought since she was concentrating so hard on what the women were chatting to her father about.
“Try the sweet tea. It’s fabulous,” Eileen said. Brielle and her father complied, and Eileen was right. It was just about the most perfect drink possible on a hot day.
“How is Colt doing?” Bethel asked with a sly look pointed Brielle’s way.
Her father stopped mid-sip and looked at her. “Who’s Colt?” He looked more curious than accusing, but Brielle was sure the red suffusing her cheeks didn’t help her look less guilty.
“He’s one of the ranch hands,” she told her father before turning to Bethel. “He’s fine. All the workers are great.” She really hoped the woman took the hint she was sending.
“From the rumors I’ve heard, he’s more than just a ranch hand,” Bethel said, and Brielle hung her head. The woman obviously didn’t know how to read body language. Dammit. Brielle was practically screaming at her to quit speaking.
“Tony called this morning and said that Colt was teaching you a lot about how to run the ranch. Last night, he said the two of you were working real hard and closely examining the back wall of the barn,” Bethel said with innocent eyes.
Brielle sat there mortified for a moment before speaking. “Yes. Colt has been very helpful,” she said quietly.
“Yes, and it seems that Peggy really enjoyed it when the two of you went shopping in her store. Of course, he was up close and personal with helping you select the right items…in the changing room,” Eileen added, making Brielle’s already colorful cheeks heat to the brightest scarlet.
“I didn’t know what to buy,” Brielle explained, hoping her father bought it.
Were these women trying to mortify her for the rest of her life, or did they really just get off on vicarious pleasure? She didn’t know, but she did know for sure that she lost her appetite and wanted nothing more than to leave the diner as quickly as possible.
“Sounds like Colt is quite…useful,” her father said.
She looked over at him, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. There was no way the dressing-room comment could have gone over his head, but maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t put two and two together.
That’s what she would choose to believe, if only for the sake of her own sanity. But from there, the conversation only got worse. How could the three women have found out about those things? It was as if they were spies or something. Maybe they had cameras set up on her property.
By the time she and her father left the diner, she was ready to find a sinkhole and throw herself in. When they climbed back in the truck, Richard didn’t say anything until about halfway home.
“I want to meet this…Colt.” That was all he said, but the tone of his voice filled her with dread. Ready or not, relationship or not, Colt was about to get the talk…
Chapter Twenty-Two
Her father’s cell phone was ringing, but the man was nowhere to be found. She would almost bet he was down in the horse arena exchanging wild tales with Tony again. Her dad had been there an entire week!
Yes, it had been good for her and her dad, and she believed they had a better understanding of each other, but it had been an entire week that she’d been all alone in her bed, the sheets unusually cold, her pillow too hard, and sleep elusive.
She’d slept alone her entire life, but after a couple of weeks with Colt next to her, she was now finding it impossible to have a decent night’s rest without him. This was absurd. She didn’t need Colt. It was just sex, she told herself. And now she knew how amazing sex could be, she missed the hell out of it.
To top it all off, her father had kept her so busy most of the time by asking questions and having her show him all the plans she’d made for the ranch, on and on, that she hadn’t managed to sneak off and find Colt anywhere. She knew her favorite ranch hand was a busy man, but she was just so used to seeing him every day, and every night.
The visit had been good, but she was ready for her father to leave. It didn’t help that he seemed to be bonding with her foreman. If her dad got too attached to the old fellow and decided never to leave, that would end her sex life forever.
No. She was a grown woman. If her father didn’t go away soon, she was going to say to hell with it, march Colt right into the house and lead him into her bedroom, slamming the door behind them both. Yeah, somehow she knew she wasn’t brave enough for that. It was so bad, though, that she’d even searched the Internet, trying to find out whether sexual frustration could cause permanent damage.
Nope. So far, she hadn’t found a valid medical reason why she had to have sex. She did learn, however, that making love burned a lot of calories. If she suddenly became fat, she could so blame her father for preventing her from getting enough exercise.
When her father’s cell phone rang for the third time, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She picked it up, hit the button, and answered.
“Is Richard Storm available?”
“He’s out of the house right now. Can I take a message?” Brielle looked around for pen and paper as she used her shoulder to hold the phone to her ear.
“Are you one of his emergency contacts?”
The woman sounded so efficient, Brielle was wondering whether she should salute. “Um…I don’t know. I’m his daughter, Brielle Storm.” What could this be about?