Dusty must not have spotted Troy right away because the warm smile he gave me morphed into a scowl the moment his gaze landed on Troy. Had he assumed I was alone in the bunkhouse? If so, he’d seemed delighted to see me—and not at all pleased to discover Troy there with me. Perhaps the subtle scent of sex still lingered or our innocent act was too studied, but the suspicion in Dusty’s eyes led me to believe he had a pretty good idea what had been going on just a few minutes earlier.
A heartbeat later, his expression seemed more hurt than belligerent. His leg might’ve been bothering him, but somehow I didn’t get that impression. Maybe I hadn’t been paying enough attention to Dusty, but I certainly would from now on.
I jumped in with an introduction before he had a chance to say a word. “Hey, there, Dusty. This is Troy Whitmore. He’s going to be helping out until your leg gets better. Troy, this is Dusty Jackson.”
The way the color drained from Dusty’s face convinced me that even the tiny dab of work he’d been doing had been too much for him. Swallowing hard, he stared at me, his big blue eyes displaying more pain than when he’d first been injured. “You’re not planning to fire me, are you?”
My jaw dropped. “Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”
I felt a swift pang of regret as it dawned on me that his job was Dusty’s only concern—not whether Troy was banging the boss. I was absolutely the last thing on his mind. I guess all the attention from Troy had me expecting it from every handsome cowboy who crossed my path.
“Nobody’s going to fire you, Dusty. A friend of mine was helping Troy find a job, and this was the best we could come up with.” I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. “Honestly, you don’t have anything to worry about, sweetheart. Just take it easy and give your leg a chance to heal.”
Sweetheart? What the hell had gotten into me? Troy really must’ve had me on a roll, because I’d never called any of the men sweetheart before in my life. My only hope was that neither of them would notice.
Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure they both heard me loud and clear. A slow smile spread across Dusty’s face while Troy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. He couldn’t have known how I normally talked to Dusty, but he did know Dusty was the one man on the entire ranch I wouldn’t kick out of bed. Praying I wasn’t setting myself up for a spectacular failure, I was all for crawling off into a deep, dark hole somewhere until Dusty, God bless him, simply grinned and limped over to shake hands with Troy.
Seeing them there together, smiling somewhat warily at one another was a picture I wanted to hold in my mind for a long, long time. If Troy was the epitome of the tall, dark, and handsome cowboy, Dusty was his slightly shorter, blond counterpart.
Dusty was freakin’ adorable. The thought of him getting hurt—possibly even killed—had affected me in ways I wouldn’t have admitted to anyone. I cared about him. A lot. I couldn’t help it.
With a mop of dark blond curls framing his puppy-dog eyes, straight nose, and crooked smile, he was every cowgirl’s dream. Dusty didn’t shave very often—once a week on Saturday nights seemed to be his limit—so he usually had that soft stubble shadowing his jaw most women, myself included, find so appealing.
Either way, the vision of the two of them together was breathtaking. They should have been a country music duo, although after getting a look at them, most women wouldn’t give a damn whether they could sing—and there were undoubtedly some men who wouldn’t be too critical. Envious, maybe, but not critical.
Perhaps it was only Troy’s influence, but I was seeing Dusty from a different perspective. I already knew what Troy looked like without his jeans, but Dusty? Taking that thought a step further, I tried to imagine him lying naked on his bunk and nearly had a stroke. As it was, I staggered a bit and bumped the back of my leg against the bed frame, sitting down rather heavily on the mattress.
In the race to come to my aid, Troy nearly tripped over Dusty’s cast trying to get to me first, but I think it ended up as a tie. All I remember is they each had hold of one of my hands to help me up. It was perhaps the first time I’d ever so much as touched Dusty, and between that and the scent of the two of them together, they had me swaying on my feet again. I hadn’t realized I was quite so susceptible, but it was the only explanation I could come up with. Admitting I might be coming down with the flu would be much too easy. This was simply overwhelming sexual attraction that quite literally knocked me off my feet.
Calvin stuck his head in through the doorway to the mess hall. “Hey, Dusty? Mind giving me a hand? I sure could use a potato peeler.”
Dusty grimaced, but his displeasure wasn’t evident in his reply. “Be right there.” As soon as Calvin’s head disappeared from the doorway, he added, “I’ll be glad when I can get back on a horse. I don’t much care for helping Calvin with the cooking.”
“You should tell him about all the vitamins in potato skins,” I suggested, thankful that Calvin’s entrance had restored the strength in my legs. “Might convince him to cook them whole.”
“Aw, he’d just find something else for me to do,” Dusty grumbled. “Like I said, I’ll be glad to be able to ride again.”
I couldn’t help it. Dad wasn’t there, nor was Rufus. Troy was the only one who might rat on me, and I didn’t believe he would. Releasing Dusty’s hand, I reached up to give him a consoling pat on the cheek. “Everyone else will be glad too, Dusty. Hang in there.”
The stubble on his cheek was almost long enough to be soft to the touch, and as the pat became more of a caress, Dusty took my hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze. I honestly believed if Troy hadn’t been there, he would have kissed it. His gentle eyes and crooked smile nearly melted me into a puddle at his feet.
“Thanks, Angela,” he whispered. “I’ll try.”
I’d forgotten how deep and seductive his voice could be—though to be honest, I couldn’t recall whether I’d ever noticed it before that moment. If we’d been more accustomed to doing such things, I probably would’ve hugged him.
Troy cleared his throat. “It was nice to meet you, Dusty. Have fun peeling potatoes.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Angie, would you show me where to put my saddle?”
My response was slow because I was too busy making goo-goo eyes at Dusty, who held my gaze a moment longer before turning toward the mess hall. I was still standing there, speechless, when the door closed behind him.
Troy spun me around to face him with the hand that still gripped my shoulder. “It looks to me like you don’t need a boy toy,” he drawled. “You’ve already got one.”
“No, not really,” I said. “I’ve always thought he was cute, but—”
“He likes you too,” Troy declared. “And I think he’s got an idea there might be something going on between you and me. He’s acting like he just figured out he’d better pee or get off the pot.”
Despite the serious nature of the situation, I couldn’t help laughing. “What an interesting analogy to choose. But, honestly, it’s never been like this. I don’t understand it. There must be something in the air today making weird things happen—or the stars are out of alignment or the earth is spinning backward or something. This isn’t normal.”
“Since I’ve never met you before today, I’ll have to take your word for it. But really, Angie. I don’t believe you’re as hard up for a man as you think you are.”
“Does that mean you won’t stay?” How the hell would I explain why he’d quit before even starting the job?
“Oh, I’ll take the job,” he said. “But I’m not sure you need me for anything else.”
If past history was any indication, he was wrong about that. Very wrong. “I don’t get it. Dusty’s never so much as touched me before. No one does. It’s like it’s against the law or something. Maybe he—? Oh, shit, I don’t have a clue, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“I think it might have been you calling him sweetheart that gave him the wrong idea.” His tone contained a sharp edge. Not quite accusing, but close. “Do you always talk to him like that?”
“No, never,” I insisted. “It must be your influence. Although if that’s all it took, maybe I should have said something to him a long time ago.”
“So, you would rather have him than me, wouldn’t you?” he snapped. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, it’s just that I’ve known him for a long time and I only met you today… Troy, I’ve never picked up a hitchhiker before, and I’ve never made love with anyone but my husband. This is so out of character for me. It’s impossible to explain. I only know that when I saw you there on the highway, I knew I had to stop—that it was important somehow. I didn’t know how or why, I only knew that it was. You’ve done something to me, something wonderful, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Maybe Dusty was simply responding to the change in me. He can’t possibly be interested. If he were, gosh, I’ve known him for five years—two of them since Cody died. Surely he would have said something before today.”
“I would have if it’d been me. You got to me with those big, brown eyes right away. Then when you started crying… What was I supposed to do? I knew I was a goner the moment I took you in my arms.” He paused, grimacing as he ran a hand through his curls. “I guess boy toys should be more careful about losing their hearts since it’s generally not the sort of thing that lasts forever.”
“Yes, but we hadn’t discussed your future then, so how would you know—” I broke off as the implication hit me. “Wait a minute. You’re saying you fell for me when I started crying and you held me?”
“Might’ve been when I kissed you,” he admitted. “I’m not real sure about the actual timing.”
“And I suppose being a goner and falling for someone could be two different things too. I probably shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion.”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t much of a jump really. I’m not too sure about the difference myself, but I do know it wasn’t anything like what I’ve felt with other women. Ever.”
“Which could be good or bad.” But it was encouraging.
Although what if Troy decided to stay forever? What then? Sure, he was cute, but would I love him?
I let out a ragged sigh. “What a day this has been! I don’t think I’ve ever had one quite like it. Let’s give it a rest and go put up your saddle, shall we? I need a break.”
Troy grinned. “I’m good for more later on if you want me.”
I just shook my head and led the way to the tack room. This fuck every twenty miles was undoubtedly going to kill me, and even if it didn’t, then the two when we got there probably would.
Maybe I was too old for a boy toy.