Rebecca Zanetti - Against the Wall

“Hey, Mom.” Quinn moved into sight, carrying a little girl snuggling her face into his neck. “We have crocodile tears here.”

“Tears?” Loni reached up as Quinn transferred a small girl into her waiting arms. “What’s wrong, Leila?”

A feminine sniff came from the small child. She lifted her head. “Tommy McAlister pulled my braids and the sheriff won’t shoot him.”

“Oh.” Loni stifled a laugh. “I’m pretty sure the sheriff isn’t supposed to shoot people, even if he is your uncle. So, your braids, huh?”

“Yeah.” Sniff.

“Did it hurt?” Loni snuggled her closer.

“Well, no…”

“But it hurt your feelers?”

“Kind of.” Another sniff.

Loni patted Leila’s braids. “Now honey, remember when we talked about boys not being quite as smart as girls?”

Twin heys of protest came from Tom and Quinn, as Jake’s brother slid onto the bench next to Sophie.

Leila giggled and nodded.

“Okay. Well, they don’t know how to talk about important stuff like feelings, so they do stupid stuff instead.” Loni winked at Sophie. “Tommy probably just wanted your attention, and that was the only way he could think of to get it,” Loni said softly.

“Boys are stupid.” Leila turned twin dark eyes on Sophie. “Hi.”

Sophie smiled at the little girl. She was going to be an incredible beauty one day.

“You’re the golf course lady. You went on a date with Daddy.”

“Ah, no, it, ah, wasn’t a date,” Sophie sputtered. Quinn coughed back a laugh, and if she had known him better, she’d have elbowed him in the ribs. She settled for giving him a small glare.

“Did you go on a picnic?” Shrewd black eyes met hers across the table.

“Well, yes.” Sophie fought to keep from fidgeting under the scrutiny.

“Did you have a pretty view?”

“Definitely.” Where was the child going with this?

“And you ate lunch with some wine?”

Sophie’s face heated. “Well, yes.”

“Sounds like a date to me.” Leila grinned in triumph.

Quinn didn’t even try to mask his laugh this time.

Loni bit back a grin. “Here, Leila, why don’t you color for a while?” She pushed crayons and a coloring book in front of her granddaughter, causing a blue pencil to roll to the ground.

“I can reach it.” Leila leaned down and grabbed the pencil before emitting a soft gasp. “I like your boots.” She peeked her little face above the table and stared at Sophie.

“Thank you.” There was no way in hell she’d admit they were a gift from the girl’s father.

“Do you have Manolos?”

Unease pricked Sophie’s skin. “I do actually have a pair. They were a gift from my mother for my eighteenth birthday.” She had wanted an art easel.

“Oh, are they pretty?” Leila breathed out in longing.

“Um, yeah. Pink and sparkly.” Sophie smiled.

“I wish I could see them.” A frown marred Leila’s pretty face.

“Well.” Sophie reached for a blank piece of paper and the pink pencil. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” Her hand moved with sure strokes. Leila watched intently. Sophie handed over the paper.

“Wow, they are pretty.” Leila sighed at the delicate sandals dangling from a pine tree. “Is this for me?” She held the paper as if it were infinitely precious.

“It’s all yours,” Sophie confirmed.

“Sophie, you are so talented,” Loni noted in admiration just as a shadow crossed the table.

Pleasure slid through Sophie. Although these people were all strangers, she felt comfortable. Accepted. She marveled at the little girl surrounded by such warmth and affection.

“What’s that?” Jake asked from behind her. Sophie’s heartbeat increased.

“My Manolos, Daddy.” Leila’s excitement made the effort seem much more than it was. “See?” She held out the paper to her father, who took it over Sophie’s shoulder.

“Wow. They are pretty.” Jake handed the drawing back to his daughter. “My mother’s right—you are very talented.” He slid onto the bench next to her, effectively trapping her between two hard male bodies. Talk about immovable objects.

His compliment had her feeling like she’d just aced a difficult test. Gaining control over her emotions, she glanced at the lawyer. “You showered.”

Jake nodded. “In the bunkhouse. Believe me, it was necessary.” Clean jeans hung low on tight hips over black boots while a light black shirt emphasized the corded strength in his upper body. His dark hair curled over his collar. For once, it wasn’t tied back, and the mass lent him a dangerous air.

Almost primitive.

Jake settled onto the picnic bench, his attention on the woman who had fit so nicely into his family gathering. Though her pretty picture of city shoes should be a dose of cold water.

Except cold wasn’t something he equated with Sophie.

Pure heat. Full sunshine. Raging fire. He wanted nothing more than to jump into the flames and get burned. His cock flared to life behind his zipper, and he fought a groan. Now wasn’t the time.

Quinn sent him a smart-assed grin over Sophie’s head.

Damn younger brother had always been a mind reader. Jake scowled back.

Colton loped up and slid into the seat across the table. He’d showered and stolen one of Jake’s shirts to wear. The guy was a genius with money, but he couldn’t remember to bring a complete change of clothing. “Let’s eat; I’m starving,” he muttered. He flipped open a lid covering freshly prepared fried chicken as Loni passed plates all around. Different salads and cookies completed the meal.

Sophie nibbled on a drumstick, and Jake fought another groan. Those pretty lips were much too talented to be wasted on chicken.

Colton glanced around. “Where’s Dawnie?”

“She went to eat down by the pond with a bunch of friends.” Tom scooped more pieces of watermelon onto Leila’s plate.

“What friends?” Colton handed Leila the napkin she’d dropped.

Loni shrugged. “I just saw her with Adam.” She handed the bowl of chicken over to Colt.

“Adam?” Quinn shook his head. “I don’t like her being in that band.”

“Me, neither.” Jake bit his lip. Maybe it was time to intervene and pull Dawn from the band. She didn’t belong in a bar.

“Dawn’s in a band?” Sophie put her napkin on her empty plate.

“Yes. The gal sings like an angel,” Tom said with a proud grin.

“She should be singing in church, not with Adam,” Quinn muttered.

Loni rolled her eyes. “Adam is Hawk’s best friend, Quinn. He’s as safe as they get.”

“Adam is anything but safe, Mom,” Quinn said.

Loni shook her head. “Leave Dawn alone, all of you. She has to find her own way, and you three”—she peered at her husband—“I mean, you four, are going to do nothing but push her in the wrong direction. Trust me.”

Colton opened his mouth to respond and then jumped as a small hand slapped him on the back.

“Nice job with the steers, Colt,” a curvy brunette said with a smile. “Hi Loni, Tom.”

“Hi, Melanie.” Loni grinned and introduced the young woman to Sophie. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Melanie nodded to Sophie and smiled. “I’m just heading down to watch Jonsie ride a bronc in the left pasture.”

“Count me in.” Colton jumped to his feet and slung an arm around Mel. “See you later, Mom.” He pulled the woman away.

“They make a nice couple,” Sophie noted with a pretty smile.

Loni sighed. “They’ve been the best of buddies since preschool. Though,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “I can’t wait until he looks up one day and realizes she’s all grown up.”

“Boys are stupid,” Leila muttered, and her grandmother nodded.

Monday morning, Sophie found herself in the middle of her pretty room with the golf course design calling from the desk and her sketchbook beckoning from her bed. She had work to do. But she wanted to draw the scene of Colton chasing a steer. She had spent half the night capturing Jake wrestling Buttercup to the ground. It was her best work.

The shrill of an antique pink phone saved her from having to make a decision, and she jumped across the bed to answer it. She stretched out on her belly before saying hello.

“Hi there, Sophie, I hope I’m not calling too early.” A country ballad wafted through the line.

“Hi, Loni, no, I’m just getting to work.” Well, she’d been thinking about getting to work, anyway.

“Oh, good. That’s why I wanted to call you. I’d like to hire you. Well, I mean, that we would like to hire you. The tribal council, that is.”

Sophie sat up. “Hire me? For what?”

“We finally have enough funds to build a garden in memory of a good friend of mine. We want it near the base of headquarters, right before Spades Mountain, you know, the one that leads to all the hiking and horse trails?”

No, she really didn’t know. But, “What do you need from me?”

“We need you to design it. You have a landscape design degree, right?”

“Well, yes. But I specialize in golf courses.” Though it would be interesting to design a garden—and probably be good for her résumé. Just in case.

“But your public hearing isn’t for another week and your designs are all finished, aren’t they?”

“Yes.” Her heartbeat quickened as her mind spun with creative ideas.

“Then this might be fun. Plus, you’d be working with the council, so you’d have time to sell everyone on the golf course.”

“You dangle quite the carrot, Loni.”

“Yeah, it’s a gift. We’d pay you for the garden design.”

“I don’t know…” The project sounded interesting, and branching out to another type of design appealed to the artist inside her.