Million Dollar Cowboy Page 24

  “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind when you said you needed me,” Ridge groused good-naturedly as he gazed at his surroundings.

  Dogs of all shapes and sizes were everywhere. In kennels, on leashes, running around the dog park behind the animal shelter where they were standing. The volunteers wore bright yellow T-shirts with the name of the shelter emblazoned across the back and were working in teams of two, manning the “canine care” stations.

  “I know.” Kaia gave him a saucy smile and thrust an extra-large T-shirt at him. “But I’ll make it up to you later.”

  “Promises, promises,” he teased.

  “Grab a brush.” She nodded at the pile of brushes on a folding table beside the numerous metal tubs filled with soapy water. “We’ve got a lot of dogs to bathe.”

  They were positioned at the last station.

  Amidst the endless barking, they wrangled dog after dog, bathing, brushing, clipping. Ridge did the heavy lifting. As a vet tech, Kaia was in charge of the medical stuff—giving shots, checking vital signs, examining ears and eyes, paws and mouths.

  The dogs squirmed and wriggled, licked and whined.

  Ridge didn’t mind working hard and, growing up on the ranch, he’d certainly taken care of his share of critters, but he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been drafted for dog grooming. The noise was deafening and he smelled of wet dog, and yet he didn’t mind one bit. He was spending the day with Kaia.

  He tried not to think too much about what that meant. Or what was going to happen between them once Duke was home and he was off to China for six months.

  The standard poodle he had in the bathtub picked that moment to shake like a cement mixer, dousing him from head to toe. Ridge wiped excess water from his eyes with both hands, sputtered.

  The alert poodle saw his opportunity, leaped from the tub, and went running around the enclosure.

  Kaia burst out laughing. “Give Dagger an inch and he’ll take a mile.”

  “I’m soaked to the skin.”

  She grinned, obviously unconcerned that she was responsible for the soaking of the CEO of Lock Ridge Enterprises.

  “Oh poor baby, I’m so sorry,” she said, sounding gleefully unapologetic. She was enjoying this. “Luckily, you’re in the desert. You’ll be dry in seconds.”

  “What does a man have to do to get some sympathy around here?”

  “There are paper towels over there.” She waved vaguely in the direction of some oversized plastic containers. Her attention was on the sheltie she was brushing with a FURminator. “But corral Dagger first.”

  To heck with the paper towels. She was right. With the heat of the arid sun, he’d be dry in no time.

  Dagger had made himself small and crawled under the metal shelving holding dog grooming supplies. Ridge got down on his hands and knees, lowered his head to the ground, peered underneath the shelving at the quivering poodle. “Here doggy, doggy.”

  “You’ll never get him out of there that way,” Kaia said without glancing over. She fished a chunk of freeze-dried liver from the pocket of her jean shorts. “Daggy.” She whistled. “Treats.”

  The poodle crawled out from under the shelving so fast he scrambled right over Ridge’s back and raced for Kaia.

  “Bath.” She pointed at the tub from which Dagger had escaped.

  The dog lowered his head and slunk back to the tub, trailing soap bubbles behind him.

  “I’ll be damned.” Ridge got to his feet. “Will you look at that?”

  Kaia tossed Ridge the treat. “Give it to him after you get him back in the water.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He tucked the treat in his pocket. Dagger eyed him with new respect as Ridge bent to pick up the dog and put him back in the tub. If he wasn’t soaked to the skin before, he certainly was after holding the wet dog close to his chest. He gave Dagger the treat and the dog crunched happily while Ridge picked up the bath brush again.

  “Is this is your typical workday?” he asked.

  “Well this is a special clinic, but yes. Although I also go out with Dr. Cheri in the field sometimes, or help her in surgery.” She turned her head to beam at him. “Isn’t it grand?”

  “Thanks for kidnapping me,” he said, kneeling beside the tub and concentrating on rinsing Dagger. “I didn’t realize how much I needed a break.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Even if you did give me the scut work,” he joked.

  “In my world, it’s the only thing you’re cut out for,” she teased back, queen of the castle in her environment. “The basics.”

  “Is that an insult, Alzate?”

  “Nah,” she said. “I just like seeing you on your knees.”

  “You know,” he said, cupping his hand as if he were going to throw water on her. “You are within splashing distance.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me.” He could only see her profile, the rest of her face was hidden as she bent to run the special FURminating tool over the sheltie’s front bib, but he could tell she was suppressing a laugh.

  “You should know better than to dare a Lockhart.” He scooted up the cup he’d used to rinse Dagger, filled it with water, got to his feet, and came toward her.

  “Ridge …” She giggled, backing away from the sheltie, her hands raised in surrender. “Don’t do this.”

  “Or what?” he taunted, advancing, his grin matching hers.

  “Don’t, don’t, don’t …” She squealed as he pounced, ducking her head, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow.

  He took hold of the back of her collar, pretending he was going to dump the contents down her blouse. She brought her shoulders up to her ears, arms dangling at her side, looking like the cutest little female Quasimodo this side of Notre Dame.

  “Did you really think I was going to dump water down your collar?” he asked huskily.

  “With you? I don’t know what to think.”

  “I have a much better way of getting you wet,” he murmured, and pulled her up against his chest, every urge in his body yelling at him to kiss her.

  “Ridge!” She sounded scandalized. “There are people around.”

  He did not let go.

  She resisted slightly at first, her body stiffening, hands curling into fists, and he manacled her wrists and pulled her hands behind her, rubbed his soppy T-shirt over the front of her, getting her as wet as he was.

  “Stop,” she said, grinning helplessly.

  He pressed his mouth to hers. “My water girl. You know you love it.”

  Kaia inhaled sharply.

  He knew she loved getting wet. Water, her weakness, and he would use it against her any chance he got.

  “The dogs,” she mumbled. “We’re neglecting the dogs.”

  He let her go then, stepped back, his heart pounding, blood pulsing, breath shallow and fast.

  “Hold on to that thought,” she whispered in his ear. “Later. At my place.”

  “Hmm, I like the sound of that—”

  She splayed a palm against his chest. “We need to talk.”

  Her words sounded worrisome and left him thinking, Oh shit, what did I do wrong?

  Chapter 25

  Right there during the dog care clinic Kaia made the decision to tell Ridge about the Song of the Soul Mate.

  It had not been her goal when she’d kidnapped him. She simply wanted to spend time with him. But now they were here, now that he had kissed her again, she knew she had to tell him.

  The past two weeks had been agonizing as she’d struggled to sort out her feelings and keep him at arm’s length. She couldn’t do it any longer. She had to know where they stood. Had to know how he felt about her. Had to know if they were on the road to happily-ever-after.

  Or if she was better off letting him go and grieving the loss of her dreams.

  Hope, that jackrabbit of emotion, hopped into her chest and bounced around with big thumper feet.

  Whatifwhatifwhatif?

  What if he felt the same fo
r her as she did for him? She thrilled at the idea that he could love her too. Her hopes were a candle flame on oxygen, flickering higher, brighter.

  Um, yes … but what if he didn’t feel the same?

  Shh, shh. She wasn’t going to think about that. For now, she needed all the hope and optimism she could muster in order to open up and tell him everything that was in her heart.

  And her head.

  Because her brain was still humming long after he let her go.

  He sat beside her in the Tundra, his masculine presence filling the cab of her pickup truck.

  She cast a sidelong glance, admiring his manly profile, appreciating the straight line of his nose, the set of his angular jaw, the cut of his cheekbone. Cataloged the precious face of her beloved. Her breath caught. She loved him so very much.

  But what if he did not love her back? Not the way she needed to be loved. What then?

  Doubt crept in. Maybe she should just keep mum about the humming in her head. Say nothing. Don’t rock the boat. Spend the night with him. Enjoy the moment.

  It was not enough.

  With Ridge, it had to be all or nothing. Either he was in or he was out.

  She had to know the truth.

  Be brave.

  She lifted her chin, stared straight ahead. Saw her neighborhood come into view.

  Felt her stomach flip upside down, a jellyfish floating on sea foam.

  Once the words were out of her mouth, there would be no do-overs. If he told her he did not love her, how would she live without him?

  The thought was a spike through her chest, sharp and bleak. Her lungs ached. If he dismissed the Song of the Soul Mate, if he walked away, she would survive. She’d survived a bad car crash, survived being stalked by a crazy man, she could survive losing him.

  But she would never, ever love another the way she loved Ridge Lockhart. He’d etched an indelible brand on her heart. That, she was going to have to live with for the rest of her life.

  She bit her bottom lip, got tangled up in his masculine smell that now included the scent of dogs and shampoo. And when he reached across the seat to place a hand on her knee, she jumped.

  “Did I startle you?”

  “A bit, my mind was elsewhere.” She peeked down at his hand, big and tanned and nicked with small scars. His nails clipped and buffed.

  There it was again.

  The dichotomy that was Ridge Lockhart. A seductive combination of polished and rugged. He was a man of the world. He’d been places, seen things, knew important people.

  He was out of her league.

  She couldn’t compete.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice kind, concerned.

  She turned her head, raised a shadow smile, lied, “Fine. I’m fine.”

  His smile was warm and tender and inviting. Nothing to be afraid of. She knew him. Had grown up with him as a child. Had spent hot days and long nights getting reacquainted with him as an adult.

  He didn’t move his hand, the heat of it sinking through her skin, flooding her bloodstream. He gave her strength, infused her with energy and courage. Yes. She would do this and let the chips fall where they scattered.

  “Do you honestly have any idea how gorgeous you are?” he asked.

  The rumble in his timbre sent the rolling heat to every organ in her body. She tingled from head to toe, alive from his touch.

  “Here we are!” She spoke too loudly, too perkily, killed the engine in her driveway. Hopped out. Almost raced up the steps to her front door without waiting for him.

  He followed. Slowly. Loping.

  Her heart was a bagpipe, expanding and collapsing, falling in on itself, wheezing with effort.

  She got the door open, automatically put up a foot to block Dart. Frustrated, the orange tabby glared at the bottom of her boot. She’d left Buddy and Bess in the backyard so she didn’t have to contend with them too.

  “Back, back,” she urged, gently pushing the kitten away.

  Disgruntled, Dart stuck his nose and tail in the air and sauntered off to another part of the house.

  Ridge came up behind her. “You didn’t wait for me.”

  “I wanted to make sure Dart didn’t get out.” Okay, not totally true, but he bought it. She moved over the threshold. He followed.

  “Well,” she said, dropping her purse onto the floor and turning around to face him. How did she start? Ask him to sit and then just dive right in? Tell him, I love you and we’re fated by the Song of the Soul Mate?

  But that was a bit abrupt, wasn’t it. Shouldn’t she ease into the topic?

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I could order a pizza. Or make grilled cheese sandwiches if the bread hasn’t gone moldy.”

  “I’m hungry,” he said, drawing her into his embrace. “But not for food.”

  His mouth found hers and she leaned into his kiss, even as she needed to tear herself away before he destroyed her reason. How easy it would be to let him sweep her away to the bedroom. To make love to him and forget all about her confession.

  She forced herself to pull away. “We need to talk.”

  They stared at each other. Silence stretched between them so taut she could barely stand it. Finally, she dropped her gaze, plunked down on the sofa. Patted the cushion next to her.

  “Please sit down,” she said more formally than she’d intended. She was building it up, making a bigger deal of it than she should.

  His brows knit in concern and he ran a palm along his jaw, but he sat beside her.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “How is your father?”

  “Much better. He should be released from the hospital soon. But that’s not what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?”

  She shook her head.

  They inhaled simultaneously.

  “Kaia,” he said, “what is it?”

  “You’ll be leaving then.”

  He nodded. “I have to go to China.”

  “For six months.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  She emptied her lungs in one long exhale out through her mouth. Tell him. Just say it and be done.

  “When will I …” She swallowed, entranced by his navy blue eyes drilling into her. “When will you be home again?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I see, I see.” She bobbed her head like a loony person. God, this was hard. He was going to think she was nutty as a pecan factory once she spilled the story.

  His eyes scorched her face. “What did you want to discuss?”

  She couldn’t hold his gaze, stared down at her hands clasped in her lap. “You sure you don’t want a pizza?”

  “Whatever you have to tell me, it’s going to be okay.”

  He said that now. Just wait until he heard about the humming.

  She cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders, raised her chin, but kept her eyes downcast. Her chest was a vise, squeezing her heart, smashing her lungs. “Here’s the deal …”

  Here’s the deal, I’m not sure I know how I’m going to survive six months without you …

  Here’s the deal, I’ve loved you since I was eight years old, if not before, and always will …

  Here’s the deal, according to Granny Blue and the humming in my head, you’re my soul mate and we’re destined to be together …

  “Kaia,” he prompted, placing emphasis on the last syllable of her name.

  Just say it!

  She wrung every ounce of courage she had in her body, and met his sultry navy eyes that were trained on her and her alone.

  Lord help her, he was the most handsome man she’d ever come across. His thick hair was mussed from the morning of bathing dogs and he finger-raked it off his forehead.

  “Here’s the deal,” she blurted, jumping in with both feet. All the way. No lead-up. No soft pedal. No preamble. Moment of truth. This was it. “I love you.”

  A heavy hush settled over the room. Neither of them breathed.

  Ridge did not say a wo
rd. He didn’t move. Or look away. His gaze frozen on hers. Had he heard her? Had she actually spoken? Was he so stunned he could not respond?

  Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

  Her heart stopped beating, or so it seemed. She tried to haul in a breath, but could not. Her lungs simply would not cooperate. She clenched and unclenched her fist, feeling goofy with shame. She wanted to bury her head under the sofa pillow, burrow deep into the upholstery, shrink herself down to the size of a dime, and get lost in cracks between the cushions.

  She wanted, she wanted, she wanted … Oh God, he was still staring at her, unblinking. Silent. Stony. Ridged. A rock of a name. Ridge.

  Her chest vapor locked. Her lips parted, panting, but she didn’t have the strength to suck in air. Her head spun, dizzy as the day they’d pulled her from her crumpled car and settled her onto the ambulance gurney.

  It was worse than she feared. She’d told him she loved him and he had not reacted. Ohgodohgodohgod. All this time. All the fantasies. It meant nothing. She’d bought into a myth, a fable, a silly lie.

  The humming in her head was her imagination. Wish fulfillment. Desperation.

  She closed her eyes. Please God, kill me now.

  Nothing. No words from him. No movement. No touch. Nothing. She opened her eyes, found him sitting statue still.

  In for a penny, in for a pound.

  In a rush of words, the legend spilled from her mouth. Granny Blue’s tale. The Song of the Soul Mate. The hum she heard whenever his lips touched her. The fact they were destined to be together.

  She purged all of it. Held nothing back.

  Her hands trembled. Hell, her entire body was trembling. Her heart was a bilge pump dramatically shoving blood through her veins. Hot and swift and hard. When she finished her story, he stayed stock-still.

  Didn’t react. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even breathe.

  Stone. Marble. Granite.

  “I know it’s crazy,” she said. “I know I sound like a crazy person. It’s irrational. It’s nonsensical. I know that, I know that … but the thing is, it happened.”

  His eyes were twin flames of fire, burning into her. Unreadable and dark. Blistering her inside. Charring her to ash.

  Shame cut through her, sliced her thin. If only she could take it all back. Pretend she’d never uttered a sound. In that moment, she died a thousand deaths.