Riding High Read online

  Annie laughed. “Nah. That would require energy.”

  Gia began to form a relatively good picture of the guy. The men in her world may have been ambitious, but there’d still been plenty of narcissistic losers.

  From the apartment window she saw Flynn’s truck come over the hill. Her chest gave a little kick.

  “Flynn,” Annie said, sounding so delighted that it gave Gia another kind of kick. This time in the ribs. But Flynn had sworn there was nothing between them.

  They left the apartment, jogged down the staircase, and waited for him.

  “My own welcoming party,” he said, alighting from the driver’s seat in his lawyer clothes and tipping his head at the jacket draped over Gia’s arm. “What are you doing with that?”

  Gia looked at Annie and back at Flynn. “Uh, slight change of plans.”

  “What’s that?” He pulled a duffel from the front seat and grabbed his cowboy hat.

  “You heading out to the barn? I’ll walk with you.” Gia didn’t know why exactly, but she wanted to tell him that she’d booted him from the guest apartment in private.

  “I have to change first.” He scanned the back of Annie’s truck. “You going to the swap meet?”

  “I’m moving,” she said and dropped her eyes.

  “Zeke moving with you?”

  “Nope.” Annie popped the “P.”

  “Is that so?” Flynn asked and quietly muttered, “About time.”

  Gia watched the two of them, relieved that she was getting a big-brother vibe off Flynn rather than a yay-you’re-available-now air. “Annie’s planning to move in here for the summer . . . uh, in the guest apartment, actually.”

  “Yeah?” He tilted his head and locked eyes with Annie. “Sounds like a good idea. You need help with that stuff?” Flynn didn’t wait for her to answer. Dropping the duffel and hefting a few of the boxes from the truck bed, he headed upstairs.

  Gia followed suit with one of the plastic bags. It weighed a ton and she had to stop a few times to readjust. Annie carried another one, and in less than thirty minutes they’d finished unloading. For all intents and purposes, Annie was officially moved in.

  Flynn picked his duffel off the ground and started in the direction of one of the bunkhouses.

  “Flynn,” Gia called. “You can stay in the house.”

  A look passed between them, Flynn silently saying Are you out of your mind? But instead of protesting in front of Annie, Flynn nodded and went inside.

  “Show me where you want me,” he said.

  She was tempted to lead him to the master bedroom.

  “I’ll start walking the field near the western fence line,” Annie said. They’d decided the tree farm should be near the road for easy vehicle access. “Meet me out there when you’re done.”

  Gia waved her on and took Flynn into the house.

  “Are you trying to kill me, woman?”

  “She didn’t have anywhere to go. It’s bad enough that tonight she’s planning to couch surf. What’s the deal with this Zeke guy?”

  “He’s a loser and a user . . . always taking Annie’s money. And it’s not like she has much. It’s good of you to take her in.” He brushed a lock of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear.

  “I’m happy to have her oversee the farming venture, but I’m sorry you’re losing the apartment.”

  “I’m not here full-time and can sleep in the bunkhouse . . . don’t need a lot of creature comforts.”

  “Flynn, I’ve got an entire second floor of en-suite bedrooms. Take one.”

  He pressed her against the wall and boxed her in with both hands. “What if I want yours?”

  She shrugged. “You’re the one who made the rules, not me.”

  His mouth quirked. “Where’s that Winchester? You setting me up?” Then he dipped his head and kissed her until her toes curled.

  Chapter 13

  Ah, what the hell was wrong with him? Flynn couldn’t believe his own stupidity, yet the knowledge of it didn’t stop him. He pressed her body against the wall and pushed the hard ridge of his erection into her belly while he let his tongue roam the inside of her mouth. She tasted better than his mother’s honey. And the more she kissed him back the more he wanted to devour her.

  His hands explored her breasts over her clothes as his mouth took her, tasting and sucking with a desperation he’d never felt before. She sagged against him and he tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her head so he could kiss her into next Sunday. He felt his skin turn hot, the fly of his pants strain, and his body roar with desire.

  Then his hands were moving again, too frantic to stop, and he searched for skin. Slipping under her top, he touched her smooth, soft stomach until he felt her suck in a breath. He jerked the fabric up, exposing her lacy bra and the perkiest tits he’d ever seen. She made a grab for his belt buckle and the anticipation of her hands wrapped around him sent a volt of pleasure up his spine.

  It also sent a rush of clarity. They had to stop. Now!

  He pushed her hands away, quickly adjusted his belt, pulled her shirt down, and rested his forehead against hers. “We can’t do this.”

  Gia tried to catch her breath. Her cheeks flushed and dewy, Flynn held her face in his hands and looked into her stormy eyes.

  “I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened,” he said and felt like a goddamn teenager. What had become of his self-control? Gia Treadwell, that’s what. Why couldn’t she get another lawyer? Then Flynn could have her until the cows came home.

  “Annie will wonder what happened to me,” she said and tried to straighten her clothes . . . her hair. A rash of red crept up her neck.

  “I’ll change upstairs.” He swiped his duffel off the ground and headed for the second floor.

  A cold shower would do him good, he thought as he picked the first room he came to. It was done up in plaids and hunting patterns that kind of gave him vertigo. Most people would’ve considered the room, with its thick carpet, king-size bed and enormous bathroom, the lap of luxury. But there was nothing indulgent about being feet above Gia when he couldn’t touch her. Now Flynn knew what being in hell felt like.

  He stripped, found a pile of plush towels in the bathroom, and took a fast shower. Going outside with a throbbing hard-on would’ve been awkward, not to mention uncomfortable. He changed into jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and pulled on his boots. There were still a few of his things in the guest apartment and he went to collect them.

  Gia had gone above and beyond letting Annie live here. Quite honestly, it had surprised him. He knew how protective she was of her privacy and he couldn’t say he blamed her. Someone in Gia’s position had to constantly watch her back, especially when the tabloids paid decent money for any tidbits of information. She had no fear from Annie. Annie might have bad taste in men—Flynn sincerely hoped she was through with Zeke—but she wouldn’t sell Gia out. Not her way and definitely not her style.

  Annie’s brother, Chad, was a different story altogether. The kid was a self-centered train wreck who would lose his family’s farm if he didn’t stop bleeding it dry. Flynn had tried to set up a trust that would prevent Chad from using the land as his own personal bank account, but Doug and Gloria wouldn’t hear of it. God forbid they make the little mooch angry. At which point Flynn had backed off. He’d done his fiduciary duty by explaining the dire situation to them and that was all he could do. But he felt like he’d failed Annie.

  She saw the writing on the wall and Flynn knew she’d been distancing herself from the farm . . . from her parents. He didn’t like seeing fission in their relationship, but he was the family lawyer not their psychologist. Working and living here for a summer would do Annie—and Gia—good. Gia didn’t know a damned thing about farming and Annie did. It would be a nice change for Annie to feel valuable and wanted without her brother sucking all the oxygen out of the room.

  Flynn got his stuff from the apartment, stashed it in his new room, and went down to the stable to
saddle up Dude. After that kiss he needed to put some distance between him and Gia.

  “Hey.” The sound of Gia’s voice made him jump.

  “What’s up?”

  “Annie thinks she found the perfect spot for the trees. You mind taking a look?”

  “Nope.” He cinched the saddle tight, climbed onto Dude’s back, and held out his arm. “You want a ride?”

  He lifted her so she could swing her leg over Dude’s loin and sit behind the saddle cantle. The leather barrier did little to ease his aching groin. And when she pressed her front to his back, Flynn muttered a silent curse.

  He gave the horse a soft tap of his heel. “Which way?”

  She pointed to the west and told him to go as far as the fence.

  “Why there?”

  “Annie said if we decide to do a cut-it-yourself farm, the area would make for easy access off the main road and we could put in a small parking lot.”

  It made sense, though it was hard to think with her arms wrapped around his waist. “You want people traipsing all over your property?”

  “I think it would give the women in my program more to do, and I like the idea of families making my trees part of their holiday tradition. I can sort of picture a table with hot apple cider, homemade cookies, and Christmas music playing. But if I decide to truck the trees to the city I’ll still need access from the main road.”

  “Sounds smart,” he said and changed the subject. “Gia, we gonna be able to move past that kiss?”

  “Why?” she teased. “Are you addicted to me now?”

  He turned around on his horse. “You seemed to enjoy it even more than I did. They could hear you moaning all the way to China.”

  “Watch the road,” she said and slugged him in the arm. “I never met a man who thought so highly of himself.”

  Flynn became circumspect. “If you want to get another lawyer and report me to the bar I wouldn’t blame you.”

  “I don’t want another attorney; I want you.”

  “You made that pretty damn obvious thirty minutes ago.” He girded himself for another punch in the arm, but she surprised him by laughing.

  “It’s no wonder you’re still single with that ego,” she said.

  “I’m single by choice. You’d be wise to remember that.”

  They rode on. Flowers blanketed the hills and the colors popped like a Monet painting. Flynn had once seen a collection of the artist’s work at the de Young. Up until that point his tastes had run to the western watercolors of Charles Marion Russell and the bronze sculptures of Fredric Remington. He’d never been a fan of cubism or abstract impressionism. Truth be told, those paintings gave him a headache. But the work of the French impressionists reminded him of the real-life landscapes of the Sierra. It was May, and even with the drought, the mountains and valleys blossomed with lady’s slippers, red clover, irises, dogwood, and lupine. A feast of reds, yellows, whites, and purples. A cowboy could never get lonely on the range with so much scenery to look at, Flynn’s father would say. True that.

  “Dude has a nice gait,” Gia said.

  “He’s a good horse.”

  He could see Annie now. She was marking off the land with small wooden stakes. He reined Dude closer and waved.

  “What do you think?” Annie straightened from a stoop and stretched her back.

  “Looks like a nice piece of land. How much you plan to use?”

  “For now, twelve acres; about eighteen-thousand trees,” Annie said.

  Considering how much land there was, twelve acres wouldn’t cost him much in pasture. By fall, when Gia planned to plant hay, he’d be moving his cattle to the Central Valley anyway.

  “It’s fine with me.” He dismounted, reached out his arms for Gia, and lifted her off the horse.

  “The sun’s good here. And I think the soil will be just fine. But we’ll need a fence to keep your cattle out. You know anyone who can do that for us?” Annie smiled up at him.

  “Yeah. I’ll take care of it. Just mark off where you want it.” There was already a split-rail fence alongside the road, which would make his job easier.

  A truck zoomed by, came to a skidding halt, and backed up. Clay stuck his head out the window. “Missing a calf?”

  “Nope. Gia’s thinking of planting some trees here.” Flynn didn’t know how much she wanted to tell Clay, but he didn’t want to lie.

  “I’m planning to put in a Christmas tree farm,” she said and beamed. Who would’ve imagined that a television celebrity and financial guru could find pine trees so damned exciting?

  “Christmas trees, huh? Buzz Henderson grows ’em on the other end of town. Does a good business from what I hear. Cut-your-own or wholesale?”

  “We’re still deciding,” Gia said and looked at Annie.

  “The profit’s better with cut-your-own, but I don’t know if she’ll get enough customers up here. I’m Annie Sparks, by the way.” She stuck out her hand to shake Clay’s through his truck window.

  “Annie’s my expert,” Gia chimed in. “She went to UC Davis and knows everything about farming.”

  Clay slid Flynn a sideways glance. Flynn grinned. “Sparks Family Farms up by Yuba City.”

  “Ah, I should’ve recognized the name.” The Sparkses were to rice in California what the Spreckels were to sugar. “Welcome to Nugget, Annie.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be living here this summer.”

  “You’ll have to come up to the ranch with Gia, meet my wife and the boys.”

  Gia looked at Flynn, silently asking whether now would be a good time to set up the meeting with the neighbors. He nodded.

  “Hey, Clay, I would love to discuss my plans with all our immediate neighbors and introduce them to Annie. Any chance you and Emily would be available sometime next week?”

  “Sure. You let us know the day and we’ll be there.”

  “Great.”

  “I’ll see you all later,” Clay said and drove off.

  Flynn put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself onto Dude’s back. “I’ve got work to do.”

  Gia followed him away from Annie for a private word. “What do you think?”

  “About Clay? I think he’s good with the tree farm. I’m not so sure how he’ll feel about the rest of your plan. We’ll find out next week, won’t we?”

  “I suppose so. You staying the night?”

  “I was planning to, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course,” she said and turned back to where Annie continued to stick stakes in the ground.

  Flynn stood up in his saddle and twisted around. “But, Gia, no kissing, you hear? And for God’s sake keep your hands off of me.”

  Chapter 14

  Gia ran around the house like a madwoman.

  Will you let me find you a cleaning service?” Dana watched Gia fluff the couch pillows and shook her head. “They can sign one of those nondisclosure agreements like I did. But this house is too big for you to take care of on your own.”

  A service had cleaned just before Gia moved in and for the most part the house was tidy. But she wanted the neighbors to see it at its best.

  “It’s too late for that now,” she said and dusted the coffee table.

  “At least for the future. Seriously, Gia, I can find you someone. Someone who could really use the work.”

  Dana got her with those last words. Someone who could really use the work.

  “All right,” she said, “as long as they sign a confidentiality contract.”

  “While I’m at it, you need a gardener.”

  Gia had to laugh at that one. What kind of gardener maintained a thousand acres? It would take an enormous landscaping crew.

  “Just for the front yard and the pool area,” Dana said, reading Gia’s mind. “It’s looking a little neglected.”

  “All right, that too. But I’m not exactly rolling in money these days.” Though she’d just sold her shares of a semiconductor stock that had risen to four times the original purchase price. She pro
bably should’ve held on to them, but the profits would help her finance the residential program.

  “You could just have them come twice a month to save money,” Dana said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay for the meeting?”

  Gia knew Dana and Aidan had scheduled a wedding cake sampling in Reno and didn’t want to ruin their plans. “I’ll be fine. Flynn will be here.”

  “Flynn, huh?” Dana’s eyes lit with curiosity. “There’s talk in town, you know? They’re calling Rosser Ranch the love shack.”

  Ha; if only they knew. It was the love shack with Dudley Do-Right.

  If you want to get another lawyer and report me to the bar I wouldn’t blame you.

  He’d uttered those words over a kiss. Granted it was a hell of a kiss, but still . . . The cowboy had more integrity than any man she’d ever met. And then there was Evan, who wasn’t even a man . . . a snake was more like it.

  “There’s nothing going on between us,” she told Dana.

  “Really?” Dana sounded disappointed.

  “He’s my attorney.”

  “So? What’s wrong with a little extracurricular activity?”

  “He’s a good lawyer,” Gia said. “So far he’s managed to keep the feds away. We’re trying not to complicate things.”

  Dana arched her brunette brows. “Then you’re both interested in each other?”

  “Not like that. It’s purely sexual. We’re both single, and, due to circumstances, spend a lot of time together. You know what that’s like?”

  “I do. That’s how it started with Aidan and me. But then it quickly got serious.”

  “That’s not going to happen with me and Flynn.” She rearranged the knickknacks on the shelf. “Evan was the most serious I’ve ever gotten with a man and look how that turned out.”

  Dana got up and straightened a painting on the wall. It was an ugly landscape Gia wanted to get rid of along with the animal heads.

  “You can’t let what happened with Evan taint future relationships. Evan was a crook; you can’t judge all men by him.”

  And you couldn’t judge all men by Aidan, who, from what Gia could tell, was a prince among men.