“That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” She flicked a finger in the air. “Although I think you failed at target practice.”
Shit. He focused forward and realized he’d been so caught up in the moment, he’d simply shot his load everywhere. He cursed softly. “Crap, what a mess.”
Her giggle increased in volume. “Sorry?”
He frowned. “You should be. You should come and clean up this mess.”
“Me?” she asked, utter innocence on her face. “I had nothing to do with you getting into a…sticky situation.”
Damn, this woman. He grabbed his T-shirt and tossed it at the floor. Cleanup he would deal with in a while. First, he wanted to make something clear. “That was fun, but this isn’t a long-term solution,” he warned her.
“I know.” She pulled herself upright, adjusting back to a normal face-to-face position. “Only it’s right for right now.”
That was something to be debated, but he’d respect her wishes for now.
Truth was, after having given Luke, Caleb, and Ashton a heads-up reminder to figure out what it was they truly wanted, the wisdom of keeping his and Ginny’s relationship on ice grew less and less logical.
“I want to see you sometime in person this week,” Tucker told her.
Ginny nodded slowly. “We’ll figure something out. I don’t know my schedule yet, because I need to get in touch with a few more people, but yes. I want to see you too.”
His phone went off. Alex Thorne, one of the lead hands for the ranch. “I’ve got to take this,” he told Ginny.
She blew a quick kiss and disconnected.
He opened the connection to Alex, thankful it was a phone line, not video. “Tucker here.”
“You have time to come to the mess hall?” Alex jumped in, but Tucker was already moving to pull his clothes back in place. The shouts and banging in the background didn’t sound very orderly.
“I’ll be there in under five,” Tucker promised.
By the time he hit the mess hall, whatever tempers had temporarily flared had cooled enough that Alex had it under control.
He was, however, standing in the middle of the hall between two full tables of ranch hands who were lingering after dinner for far too long.
Tucker joined him, marching across the room with his stride firm and his expression as disapproving as possible. “Alex.”
The other man grinned. “Sorry to pull you back to work, but Ashton said that you got all the bullshit calls from here on out.”
Tucker snorted. “Of course he did.”
“Can’t blame the man. Seems as if it’s the perfect decision while training your replacement.” Alex tilted his head the slightest bit to the right. “Jeffrey and Jim. I reminded them they can talk politics all they want elsewhere.”
Jeez. Some things never changed. “Religion, politics, money—there’s always something to fight about.”
“Women. You forgot that one,” Alex offered softly. “Table to the left are a little less conservative in their views and a whole lot more willing to ignore the no bullshit in the mess hall rule.”
“Anyone I need to talk to?” Tucker asked, trusting Alex’s opinion.
Not only was Alex one of the lead ranch hands, he was an active coordinator with the Heart Falls firefighting team, which made the man a little more balanced when it came to relationships in the community. He hung out with people other than just his fellow ranch hands, and he seemed solid to the core.
Alex shook his head. “Seems the threat of you or Ashton showing up was enough to calm them down this time.”
Or was it only Ashton’s displeasure?
One step at a time. Tucker looped an arm around Alex’s shoulder and guided him toward the drink station. “Can I buy you a coffee?”
“Big spender,” Alex joked. “Sure.”
By the time they got themselves drinks and settled at a table near the exit door, most of the men contemplating trouble had slunk out of sight as quickly as they could. Only Jim met Tucker’s gaze head on, disapproval written all over him.
Tucker didn’t bother to change his expression. He didn’t need the man to suck up. He needed him to do his job.
Alex stirred his coffee and chuckled. “Damn. That glare you and Ashton have. Is it genetic, or is it something I can learn?”
“What are you talking about?” Tucker asked with amusement.
“That thing you do. That Ashton does, where you look as if you could zap lasers out of your eyeballs, and woe to the man who triggers the beast.”
A snort escaped him. “Are you sure you’re a ranch hand? You’ve got a bit of—”
“—literary genius?” Alex offered.
“—bullshit in you,” Tucker finished.
An outright burst of laughter escaped Alex. “You’re going to do just fine,” he assured Tucker. “While I’m here, if you ever need an extra hand, let me know.”
“Going somewhere?”
Alex dipped his head. “Ashton must’ve forgotten to tell you. Yeah, he’s letting me go on short warning. My parents are back in Manitoba, and they’re both on waiting lists for major surgery. Hip and knee replacements. My sister fosters high-needs kids, so she can’t drop everything.”
That made sense. “You’re going home to help them until they recover? I hope you’re coming back,” Tucker said honestly.
Something a little more unreadable crossed Alex’s face. “Hell, yeah, I’m coming back. All sorts of things waiting here for me. Just postponing some of it until the right time, you know?”
The right time. Tucker was beginning to hate that phrase. It represented too much of his life that had been put on hold, waiting for the right moment.
He had to find a way to make the right moment arrive sooner than later…
13
While it was pretty clear both she and Tucker had hoped for more interaction on a regular basis, the next days flowed into a week, which flowed into time passing all too rapidly without getting the chance to talk with the man.
She’d tracked him down a few times, but every time she closed her approach, a ranch hand, or Ashton, or one of her brothers would show up, so she’d casually keep walking and pretend that everything was business as usual.
Diane and Jack were at the end of their visit, so Kelli and Luke set up a final evening together where laughter and outrageous stories were standard fare. Tucker was there for about half the time before he had to respond to a summons from his uncle. Which meant while Ginny saw him briefly, they weren’t together.
She distracted herself by sharing a couple of the funnier moments from her time away, saving her favourite for last.
“Going to the spa was an absolute splurge after being in the French countryside with nothing but lukewarm water in the workers’ quarters for a month. So I’m in Paris, all comfy in this robe that’s like a heavenly cotton ball. I’ve had a pedicure and manicure, and I’m so relaxed I’m fuzzy-brained when they send me into a teeny sauna room that’s like five feet by five feet. The woman helping me takes my robe and closes the door. I figure it’s a small enough space, it must be a private sauna.”