Hot Winter Nights. Debbi Rawlins

car, and I never know when I’m needed on the set.” She skipped the part about feeling like a third wheel. And the odd feeling she’d been having just recently that something was bothering Erin. Lila hoped it had nothing to do with Spencer. But, she was sure Erin would fill her in soon. “Anyway, predictable doesn’t describe my life, that’s for sure.”

      “You have anything pressing to do right now?” His eyes were beginning to darken, a clear hint that he had something in mind for her, something she was going to like.

      “Nothing at all.”

      He put his hands on her waist and pulled her toward him. “How badly do you think Baxter needs me to agree?”

      Unprepared for the switch in gears, she laughed. “I’d say he’s pretty desperate if he asked me to help. I know he’s zero for three with Jason.”

      Clint wrapped his arms around her. “Tell Baxter to put you up in the motel in town, and I’ll do whatever he wants.”

      Lila stared at him. “Huh?”

      “With his own money.” Clint paused. “Or his uncle’s, I don’t care which.”

      “But—I—” She laughed. “I can’t do that.”

      “Why not?” He brushed a kiss across her mouth. “Would you rather I call him?”

      “No.” She couldn’t think. Not when her body was flush against his and she could feel him getting hard. “I don’t know.”

      “Whatever you want, Lila,” he whispered, his lips searing a path to her throat.

      She swayed in his arms. His strong, muscled arms. How weird was it that she didn’t feel nervous with Clint? She’d never kissed a man five minutes after meeting him. Okay, it had been longer but not all that much. She was always careful about not playing into the Hollywood stereotype. She didn’t play fast or loose. Actually, it just wasn’t her style.

      She felt the tip of his tongue trace her collarbone. Her nipples tightened. She squeezed her thighs together. Her breathing was off, and she couldn’t seem to drag in enough air.

      “Tell me what you want, Lila.” His voice was low and rough, his breath hot on her skin.

      Her sweatshirt was too thick. She couldn’t feel him pressed against her the way she wanted to...

      He stopped kissing her and lifted his head. The second he stepped back, she heard the laughter just outside the trailer. She recognized Shannon’s loud snort.

      Lila stepped back, as well.

      “So, you can tell him,” Clint said when they heard the doorknob turn, “or you can give Baxter my number. That’s up to you.” He turned and nodded causally at Shannon and Diane as they entered, both of them speechless, eyes full of curiosity.

      “I have to think about it,” Lila said, her voice hardly shaking at all. But she almost lost it when he took off his hat and held it in front of himself. “I’ll need your number.”

      Her cell signaled a text. They needed her on the set.

      Clint surprised her with a business card. “I should probably get your number, too.”

       5

      THE NEXT MORNING Clint delegated the few chores he normally handled to Heath, the new man they’d hired last month. Then Clint left a note for his dad, letting him know he was taking some time off, and another note for the other three men who worked for them. He hadn’t mentioned where he was headed, just that he’d be gone all day.

      They’d all razz him if they knew he’d be standing around like some jackass while someone shot film of him. It wasn’t as if he could keep it a secret. Eventually word would spread. He just didn’t want anyone showing up to watch—or asking him why he was charging out of the house in his good clothes.

      He filled a to-go mug in the kitchen and made it to his truck without anyone seeing him. But he managed to spill coffee on the new jeans he’d just put a crease in and cussed up a storm, trying to figure out what he should do about it. He decided the spot would be fine once it dried. And anyway, he didn’t have time to change.

      He reversed out of the garage and drove all of ten feet when he saw his dad coming from the stable. Clint considered pretending he hadn’t seen him...then his dad motioned for him to stop.

      Damn.

      Clint let down his window. “Hey, Dad. What were you doing in the stable this early?”

      “Just checking on Hazel. I thought she might be favoring her hind leg,” he said, frowning as he got closer. “That a new shirt?”

      “I left you a note. In the kitchen. So, how’s Hazel?”

      His dad chuckled, looking younger than he had in a long while. Now that he’d filled out some, his clothes were starting to fit him again, and his coloring was better. Years of stressing over finances had aged his father.

      “I think she’s okay. I’m not gonna call Doc Yardley yet.” He paused, obviously waiting for Clint to say something. Then he smiled. “It’s okay, son. You’re a grown man. No need to tell me where you’re going. It’s none of my business.”

      Clint laughed. “I might’ve believed you if you weren’t staring me down like I was sixteen again.”

      “I won’t deny you got me curious.”

      “Dad, if a man puts on a new shirt and it’s not Sunday—”

      “It’s a woman.”

      “That’s right.” Clint gave him a nod. “And that’s all I’m saying about it.”

      “Your mom’s going to be real happy.”

      “Only if someone opens his big mouth,” Clint said and powered the window up, cutting off the howl of laughter that had him chuckling along with his dad.

      He drove slowly down the gravel driveway, glancing in the rearview mirror and watching his dad dab at his eyes. How long had it been since he’d laughed like that? Too damn long. It was a great thing to hear. Despite the guilt tightening like a fist in Clint’s chest.

      For four decades Doug Landers had struggled with the responsibility of running Whispering Pines, choking from fear of failure and nearly destroying the legacy entrusted to him. What he knew about raising cattle, which was a hell of a lot, was equaled by how little he knew about business. But now that he saw an end in sight, he could finally breathe.

      And Clint was that end.

      It didn’t seem to matter that he’d taken over the books years ago. And that he’d been the one going to auctions, deciding when to send the cattle to market and handling the daily operation of the ranch. Something about his dad knowing he’d soon officially hand over the reins had given him a new lease on life.

      Dammit, how could Clint make any other decision but to take over?

      He’d made it halfway to town before his brain finally settled. Thinking about Lila and knowing he’d be seeing her soon calmed him down some.

      That she’d called soon after he’d left her last night had given him hope. Hope for what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Sex would be a good start.

      Damn, but he liked her. For so many more reasons than he could’ve guessed, considering she was beautiful and lived in a sophisticated world that was foreign to him.

      After he parked in the same spot as yesterday, he checked the visor mirror to make sure he didn’t have shaving cream on his face. He dragged a hand across his jaw. Smooth as a baby’s behind. Hadn’t missed a single spot.

      Most of the people milling about were movie folks. He didn’t see Lila, though he was early. Catching sight of Baxter, Clint wondered what exactly