The Rancher's Redemption

He nodded, and stumbled down the hallway, locking the door behind him. He stared wide-eyed at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like a very startled, but very satisfied man, which was kind of exactly how he felt.

He cleaned up and made sure he was presentable before returning to the kitchen where Lizzie had already washed up the plates, and was rinsing out the coffee carafe. She looked up when he came in and pointed at the clock.

“I have to get back soon. Do you want to take the rest of the éclairs with you?”

“Lizzie . . .” Adam came around the counter and took the dishcloth out of her hand.

“What?” She at least had the grace to blush.

“That was slow?”

She bit her lip, her smile dying. “Did I mess up? Was it terrible? I’m really out of practice. And, God, I didn’t ask you if it was okay. I just—”

“It was . . . great.” Adam hastened to reassure her. “I just wasn’t expecting—”

She interrupted him. “I thought I owed you one.”

“For what?”

“You know.” She blushed even harder. “Last week.”

“That’s an insult to my skill set and a challenge.” Adam cupped her chin so that she had to look up at him. “Next time, it’ll be your turn. I promise you.”

“Really?” Her eyes brightened. “You mean you’re okay with everything? I didn’t ruin it?”

He kissed her and then kissed her again just to make sure she was paying attention. Not talking seemed to work better than trying to explain and tying himself in knots.

Her phone buzzed an alarm, and she eased away from him to turn it off.

“I’ve got to get back.” She sighed. “Will you let me know how Carlos is doing, and whether Ines needs anything dealt with at the ranch?”

“Will do.” He found his hat, checked he had his keys, and followed Lizzie down the stairs where she unlocked the lower door.

They walked out together into the glare of the bright sunlight and he adjusted the angle of his Stetson against the sun.

“I won’t come back to the café with you,” Adam said. “I’ve got to get home and help Ben, seeing as Dad’s gone AWOL.”

“Where is he?” Lizzie asked.

“With Leanne up at the Morgans’ place.”

“Oh.”

“Exactly.” He grimaced. “He told me to keep my nose out of his business.”

“I’m sorry, Adam. This must be really hard on you.” Lizzie went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I really do have to run, but call me if you need me, okay?”

He watched her walk away from him, her hair glinting copper in the sunlight, and tried not to remember what she’d been doing to him ten minutes earlier. He wondered whether he looked as mind-blown as he felt. No one had touched him that intimately for years....

He wished he could call her back and take her to bed.

Yeah. He wanted to do that. There was no point in pretending anymore. He waited for the usual twinge of guilt to hit and had to search hard for it. Change was happening. Lizzie wanted him to take it slow, and for the first time in a long while he was willing to go along with her suggestion.

He turned to leave and caught movement close to his right side. A gold Lexus slid out of the parking spot directly opposite Lizzie’s front door. The driver waved at Adam before he disappeared down the street.

“Damn,” Adam muttered.

Whatever the private investigator was doing with the information, Lizzie and him coming out of her apartment together at lunchtime wasn’t a good look. The guy had his cell phone in his hand and had probably taken pictures. Adam considered whether he should let Lizzie know right away in person. He concluded he’d do better to text her the information and get back home before his brother killed him.

Chapter Twelve

“That’s areal shame about Carlos,” Yvonne commented. “He was so lovely when we met him, and so happy to chat with Rio in Portuguese.”

“He is a nice guy.” Lizzie untied her apron strings and tossed the apron into the laundry pile before rolling her shoulders. “Adam said he’s doing okay. He’s in the hospital for further observation, although Ines would rather he was at home.”