Taking on Twins, page 16
“You’re not.” She bent her head and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth. “If anything, I’m taking advantage of you.”
He tensed and inhaled sharply.
Corrine smiled. She was getting to him.
“I want you to make love to me,” she whispered softly. Seductively. “You promised me earlier that once wouldn’t be enough.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“I need you.” She rubbed the arch of her foot along his shin.
“Is that all?” He brushed his lips across hers. “Just need?”
“No. Need hardly begins to describe what I feel.”
She pressed her mouth fully to his, silencing them both. Even if she could put her feelings about Greg into words, she wasn’t ready to discuss them. He’d affected her like no man before. Had gotten closer to her, physically and emotionally, than anyone had in years. Even Hector.
Corrine was well aware of how significant that was, but wasn’t ready to acknowledge or explore it. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow, after she and Greg had spent the night together and become even closer.
Sweeping aside the paper plates, she hopped from Greg’s lap onto the table.
He broke into his trademark grin. “I was joking when I made that ravishing remark.”
She whipped her T-shirt over her head and flung it in the general direction of the counter. Wearing only her panties, she leaned back on her elbows, flashed him her naughtiest smile and said, “I wasn’t.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Good morning,” Corrine called cheerfully as she entered the kitchen and hung her backpack on a hook by the door.
“Hey, how ya doing?” Pat was the only one to actually answer, and her enthusiasm left a lot to be desired.
“I’m great.” Corrine grabbed a clean apron and looped the strap for the bib around her neck. She didn’t let the mediocre reception bother her. She was walking on air these days. “Looks like we have a full house.”
Workers were crammed two and three together at each station. Volunteers from Help for the Hungry were on board for training in preparation of the tournament this coming weekend. More would report this afternoon. They would rotate shifts for the next two days until their training was complete.
“You seem happy,” Pat observed, moving sideways to make room for Corrine at the counter. “I am.”
Greg had a lot—make that everything—to do with her elation. Over the last week and a half, he’d done his best to entice her over to the dark side. They’d spent as much time together as their respective work schedules and his parenting responsibilities allowed. Between the babysitter he shared with Natalie, and Corrine delegating more and more of her duties to her staff, that came to a considerable amount. Then there were the mornings she skipped her regular run in favor of a leisurely breakfast with Greg, straggling into the ranch kitchen whenever she got around to it.
Like this morning.
Greg had been fishing one of the smaller tributaries of Bear Creek in preparation for the tournament. He hadn’t taken the kids with him as he usually did. When Corrine had pulled up to the creek bank in the golf cart, blanket and picnic basket in hand, he promptly forgot about fishing, and they both forgot about breakfast—until later, when she happened to glance at her watch.
“You’re late,” Gerrie grumbled into her ear. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” She had the decency not to reprimand Corrine out loud.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She washed and dried her hands before picking up a knife to start slicing tomatoes. “It won’t happen again.”
“You said that yesterday.”
Frowning, Corrine slammed the knife onto the cutting board with a tad too much force. It was as if their roles had been reversed, and she was the subordinate getting her butt chewed. Not a pleasant feeling.
She reacted by asserting her supervisory status. “How are the volunteers doing?”
“Good, so far. Our operation here is a little more complicated than they’re used to, but they’re hardworking and will catch on quickly. Plus they’ve worked together before, so that helps.”
“Sounds like you have it handled.”
“There’s another problem.”
“What?”
“The equipment rental company called. They miscalculated their inventory and don’t have enough tables and chairs for us. I begged and pleaded and, when that had no effect, read them the riot act. Bottom line, there’s nothing they can or will do.”
“Okay.” Corrine grabbed another tomato from the pile.
“That’s it? You aren’t mad?”
“You tried your best. They can’t spontaneously manufacture tables and chairs and neither can you.”
“What about the tournament? We have three hundred and fifty guests to feed. They’ll need places to sit, and we only have enough room in the dining hall for two hundred.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“Well, we need to do it pretty quickly.”
“Relax.” Corrine patted Gerrie’s shoulder. Her assistant cook really was too uptight. “What about the picnic tables in the employee dining area?”
“They’re hideous.”
“We’ll cover them with linen tablecloths. Talk to housekeeping, see what they have.”
“That still won’t be enough.” Gerrie’s voice had begun to rise.
“We have three days to come up with a solution.”
“What about Jake?”
“What about him?” Corrine didn’t want to involve her cousin.
“He has a lot of connections in town, like the diner and the adult daycare center. Do they have tables and chairs we could borrow?”
Corrine hated admitting the idea was a good one. If her mind wasn’t constantly cluttered with thoughts of Greg, she might have come up with it herself.
“I’ll talk to him later today.”
“All right.” Gerrie bent even closer. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“You just seem different. Not your usual self.”
“No. Everything’s perfect.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.” Corrine’s wish to be left alone must have shown in her face, for her assistant returned to her station and training the volunteers.
Corrine could feel the stares of her staff burning into the back of her neck. Ignoring them was difficult, but she persevered, and eventually they lost interest and resumed their various tasks of cleaning up from breakfast and prepping for lunch.
After finishing with the tomatoes, Corrine escaped the kitchen and made her regular rounds in a half-empty dining room. Jake was there, sitting by himself at a table in the corner, nursing a coffee and reading some papers. He didn’t appear happy. Had he found out she was late to work again? He motioned her over with a casual wave, but it felt more like a command to report. “Sit down.”
She stalled. “I’m making rounds.”
“So, you’ll miss them. It won’t be the first time this week.”
Yikes, that smarted. “Sorry.” Corrine pulled out the chair across from him and slipped into it.
“I don’t care that you’re late. You put in enough hours the rest of the week, more than anyone else on your staff. What I do care about is the reason why.”
She stiffened, her defenses on the rise, and exercised a diversion tactic. “Hey, the equipment rental company bailed on us. Can you pull some strings with your business associates in town and find us about ten folding tables and eighty chairs?”
“No problem.”
“I need to check with housekeeping, too, and ensure we have plenty of tablecloths. Oh, we don’t have enough stainless steel cutlery for the outdoor tables, either. I was thinking of purchasing some of that nice plasticware that’s painted to look like steel. If they have any in town, that is. I meant to check the other day and didn’t. Which reminds me, when is maintenance cutting the grass? We need to set up tables on the lawn.”
Jake removed a small notebook and pen from the pocket of his shirt and placed them in front of her. “Here.”
“What’s are these for?”
“To take notes. That’s quite a long to-do list you’re reciting.”
“Oh, I’ll remember.”
“You haven’t so far. Most of those things should have been taken care of already. My guess is you forgot. Making lists helps.”
“I’ve been busy lately.”
“You’ve been preoccupied. With Greg.”
“My personal life is none of your concern,” she said tersely.
“I couldn’t agree more. And as your cousin, I’m tickled pink you have a personal life. We were all beginning to worry that you were working too hard and not enjoying yourself enough.”
“You and the family have been talking about me?”
“Of course. That’s what we do. Talk about each other and stick our noses where they don’t belong.”
“So, unstick your nose.”
“This is different. I’m not just your cousin, I’m the ranch manager and your boss. When an employee’s personal life affects their job performance, I have a right and an obligation to stick my nose in as far as necessary.”
How many similar talks had she had with her subordinates over the years? Sitting on the other side of the desk—or table, as was the case with her and Jake—was no fun, even if she did deserve the reprimand.
“If you’re going to write me up, then do it and let me return to the kitchen.” She pushed his notebook and pen back across the table and started to stand.
“Sit down.” His gaze locked with hers and held fast.
Their standoff lasted for several seconds before she lowered herself back into her chair. “Anyone ever tell you that you’d make a formidable officer?”
Though he didn’t smile exactly, the lines of tension around his eyes disappeared. “I’m not going to write you up.”
“No?”
“But I am going to give you a warning. This tournament and the exposure we’ll get from the Fishing with Pfitser show are important to us. If business doesn’t pick up soon, more jobs could be at stake, including yours and mine. Before we struck a deal with Greg’s production company, we’d laid off six employees. Luckily, we were able to hire four of them back. I’d have to lay them off again.”
“I sit in on the family meetings. I understand.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Then you won’t get mad when I tell you to separate work from your personal life.”
She felt a pang deep in her chest. Being with Greg was wonderful. Nothing like she’d expected. She was also aware, at least in the back of her mind, that she was ignoring two very important things: preparations for the tournament and Greg’s impending departure.
“The problem may resolve itself on its own.”
“How so?” Jake asked.
“Greg and the kids are leaving next week.”
“You’re not going to see him again?”
“I am.” Corrine attempted to soften the defensiveness in her tone. “We just haven’t discussed the details.”
“Whatever the outcome, I want you to be happy.”
“Unless it interferes with my job.”
“You do have a responsibility where this ranch is concerned.”
“Is that what you told Carolina?”
“Your mother’s the one blabbing to the family about you and Greg. Not me.”
“I was referring to the past. When her relationships got in the way of her responsibilities to the ranch.”
Jake straightened and pushed his coffee cup aside. “I liked Carolina’s fiancé, and I supported her decision to marry him.”
“I heard differently.”
“Your parents were the ones who objected to the marriage. My one and only concern was that Carolina not lose her share in the family trust. If she’d married him, she would have had to leave the country for five years.”
The terms of the family trust required that all members spend no less than eight weeks of every year at the ranch. Anyone who went a full two years without returning to the ranch would forfeit his or her share to the remaining seven owners.
“I left the country, too,” Corrine murmured.
“As you well know, the trust allows for several exceptions, military service being one of them.”
“She was in love with him.”
“If it had been up to me, I would have gladly extended the two years to five. But I didn’t establish the terms of the trust, our grandparents did.”
“We could have taken a vote. Changed the terms of the trust.”
“We did. I was outvoted.”
“I…didn’t know.” What else had Corrine missed while she was away? Her burst of temper cooled. “I guess I should have asked you first before jumping to conclusions.”
The realization that Jake had always been in their corner and not their parents’ was disconcerting…and enlightening.
“If you decide to leave with Greg,” Jake said, “I’m all for it, as long as you come home every year for the required eight weeks. If not, I’ll hound you like I did Vi.”
“Is being part owner of the ranch really that important?”
“Maybe not. But being a member of this family is.”
“More than the love of your life?”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “Is Greg the love of your life?”
Corrine felt herself flush. “No.”
“Could he be?”
“It’s too early to tell.” She wasn’t about to admit she’d been asking herself the same question each and every time she and Greg curled up in bed together.
Jake stood. “Maybe you and he should ‘discuss those details’ next week.” He bent and kissed the top of Corrine’s head, then left through the front entrance.
She didn’t move. Instead, she sat in the middle of a nearly empty dining hall watching the staff bus tables, and counting the days until Greg’s departure. There were nine of them, to be exact.
Not much time to decide the course of the rest of her life.
GREG HELD THE dining room door open for Russ, who waddled outside ahead of him.
“I think the food’s gotten even better since my last visit.” He patted his protruding stomach. “I don’t even like Belgian waffles.”
“You ate three of them.”
“They were great.” He groaned and adjusted the waistband of his jeans. “You weren’t exactly eating light, either, pal.”
“True.” Greg had shamed himself by devouring two apple cinnamon muffins on top of an omelet. “But unlike you, I’m not sorry.”
“A man could get used to eating like this.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Russ’s brow lifted inquisitively. “Spoken like someone thinking of settling down.”
“Why not? I have two kids who need a place to stay when they visit me, which is going to be often. Where better than here? They’ll have plenty room to run and explore, build tree houses, ride horses and maybe even learn to fish.”
Greg had been debating moving his home base from Wyoming to Denver to be closer to the kids. The last few days, those thoughts had turned to the ranch. Voicing them aloud made them sound all the better.
“It’s kind of strange hearing you talk about settling down,” Russ said. “You’ve been on the road, what, six years?”
“Closer to eight.”
There was only one glitch to his plan that Greg could see. Corrine might not be ready to have him take up residence in her backyard.
Russ paused at the path leading to the parking lot and Greg’s SUV. “Where are you giving casting lessons?” He held up a map of the ranch on which Greg had scribbled notes about the tournament, then turned it sideways. “I don’t see anything marked.”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Russ lowered the map. “What’s stopping you?
Greg thought fast. He should have anticipated the question and prepared a response. No, he should have already selected a location and noted it on the map.
“There are several decent meadows within walking distance from the lodge. I thought we could go together and look at them.”
“Together?” Russ glared at him. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“That way you can personally check the lighting and angles.”
“I assume the meadow’s outdoors?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“Yeah, to see if your head’s screwed on straight. I don’t give a flying fig which meadow you use so long as the lighting’s natural, as in sunlight. And angles?” He snorted. “I’ll shoot from the top of a tree if I have to.”
“You’re right. I should have picked the site out ahead of time.”
“Damn tootin’. Along with the beginner pools.” He jabbed the map with his index finger. “I see intermediate and advanced, but no beginner, and only three streams. You expect two hundred people to fish a handful of pools and three streams?”
“I was going to make another run this morning before you got here.”
“What happened? We weren’t early.”
No, Greg had been late.
He’d taken advantage of his children’s tendency to sleep in, and had cuddled with Corrine on the couch. She’d kept trying to talk to him, but he would have none of it. Next thing he knew, Russ had called to say they were almost to the ranch. Corrine left after that. Okay, not right away. They’d lingered at the door until she’d reminded him of her conversation with Jake the day before, and her commitment to be less tardy.
“The tournament starts in two days, and you’re nowhere near ready.” Russ shoved the fingers of his free hand into his thinning hair and groaned. “This isn’t like you, buddy. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Everything. Greg been in a fog all week. When Corrine wasn’t occupying his time, she was occupying his thoughts. Mostly, he was devising ways to get her out of the kitchen and alone with him. His lack of preparedness was the price he’d paid, though he didn’t regret one moment with her.
“Is it the kids?”
“They’re fine. A little cranky since Leah left.” And nothing Greg did seemed to improve the situation. Their constant bickering and squabbling was getting on his nerves. He did his best to remain calm. The three of them had taken too many steps forward in their relationship to move backward now.
