“Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said as the rooster flapped and squawked back around the side of the barn and out of sight like a bat out of hell.
“It won’t return, will it?” She hugged her middle and eyed the direction the bird had gone.
He couldn’t blame her for being nervous. The rooster acted as though it were possessed or something. “I don’t know. I wonder if a rattler might have gotten him.”
Her face paled. “Rattler, as in rattlesnake?” Her gaze darted to the ground.
“We have them sometimes. They’ll let you know when they’re around. The sound of a snake’s rattle is like nothing you’ve ever heard before.”
“Oh, that makes me feel a lot better.”
“Just stop in your tracks and look around. Most of the time, they’re only warning you to keep your distance.”
“And what about the other times? Do snakes have really pissy days and strike for no reason whatsoever?”
“I’m sure women who lived on the range had to put up with a lot more than rattlesnakes and a goofy rooster.”
Her shoulders squared. “And that’s exactly why I’m writing this book.”
Cal bit back the words he wanted to say, but it took a lot of effort on his part. Nikki wasn’t nearly as good as she thought she was. Even if Jeff hadn’t told him she was a reporter, Cal had a feeling he’d see through her act. She might be good with sleazy politicians, but his granddad didn’t raise any fools.
But he’d play her game a little longer and see what happened. Maybe because she was so damned easy on the eyes. “Then you’d better gather the eggs.”
For all her bravado, she timidly stepped forward, stopping in front of the wooden bins where the hens nested. He had a feeling she didn’t back down from much. Not and have a nickname like The Barracuda. She was out of her element and in way over her head at the ranch.
But that didn’t make her any less sexy. He caught a whiff of her perfume, savoring the heady scent as it wrapped around him, tempting him to step a little closer, to do more than kiss her this time.
“Now what do I do,” she asked, breaking the spell.
It was probably a good thing she had, too. “Just stick your hand inside and get the eggs. This first one is easy since the chicken is out roaming around.”
“She’s not going to come back and see me stealing her eggs, is she? I don’t want to be on her hit list or anything.”
“I doubt it. Didn’t you ever hunt Easter eggs?”
“No, my parents didn’t want to fill my head with a lot of nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” He readjusted his hat and stared at her. “What about Christmas and other holidays?”
“We each exchanged one gift, but they made sure I knew there was no such thing as a fat, jolly man in a red suit.” She glanced his way and apparently noted his stunned expression. “You think it’s better to lie to a child? Let the child believe in something that doesn’t truly exist?”
“I think it’s better to let children have fantasies and dreams-let them be children and not force them to grow up, to become little adults.”
“Apparently it didn’t hurt me.”
He begged to differ, but for now, he kept his thoughts to himself. One of his best memories was waking up on Christmas morning to the aroma of fresh-baked pumpkin bread, the Christmas lights twinkling on the tree, and scratchy Christmas songs playing on the old record player.
His grandmother would have the table set with the china that had been passed down from her grandmother. There were a few chips and dings, and it hadn’t been a complete set of dishes in years, but the set was priceless to her. His grandmother said each plate had a story, and every year she would tell them one.
He and Brian had discussed her stories once and come to the conclusion that she more often than not made them up, but she was really good at telling them, and they enjoyed listening to them, so they never said anything.
Cal couldn’t imagine the kind of holidays Nikki had celebrated. They sounded cold. Maybe that was why people called her The Barracuda.
Nikki reached into the bin and grabbed the egg, then put it in the basket he’d brought with them. She cocked an eyebrow as if to say gathering eggs wasn’t all that hard. Then she stepped to the next bin and saw the hen still sitting inside. She stared it down for a few seconds before looking at Cal.
“I don’t think she wants to move.”
“Probably not.”
“And?”
“You reach under her and get the eggs.”
“Won’t she…”
“Peck you? No.”
Nikki took a deep breath. He really liked the way she inhaled. He also liked the expanse of skin she showed. When he’d first seen that she’d tied the ends of her shirt under her breasts, he’d wondered if she was trying to seduce a story out of him. Not that he minded that much. He kind of liked the fact she put so much into her job.
“Ow!” She jerked her hand back, then glared at him. “You lied.”
“You were too slow. She sensed your fear and took advantage of you. You need to get the eggs faster.” He reached under the hen and got the egg the chicken was sitting on. The hen didn’t do a thing to him. “Easy as pie.”
“I wasn’t afraid of her.” She jutted her chin.
The chicken rose slightly, puffing out her chest. “Block, block, block.”
“I think she’s taunting me, though.”
He laughed. It was hard to stay angry with Nikki, especially now that he knew a little more about her. So what if she was trying to get a story. It didn’t mean he had to give her one.
And she’d definitely chased away his boredom. He liked watching her as she faced challenge after challenge and didn’t back down. Kind of reminded Cal of when he played football. He never let anyone stand in his way.
Of course, she’d probably kill him when she found out he knew she was a reporter after a story on him and Cynthia. He kind of figured turnabout was fair play, though.
She reached under the next bird and brought out two eggs, then placed them in the basket. She tried to bite back a smile, but it still formed on her face.
“I did it,” she said and didn’t have to add, “I told you so” because it was written all over her face. When he didn’t say anything, she continued, “Unless I have to do something else with the egg? I don’t, do I?”
“No, just fry it and eat it.”
She sighed with relief.
A soft morning breeze blew a strand of hair across her face. He automatically reached over and brushed it back. His hand stilled, liking the silky-smooth texture of her cheek. Yeah, his life was definitely not boring with her around.
“Are you going to kiss me again?” Her lips pouted in open invitation and she leaned a little closer.
It would be damned easy to fall into her trap. “I don’t think so.” He turned away and quickly gathered the rest of the eggs.
She squared her shoulders. A frown wrinkled her forehead. “Why not?”
“Why not what?” He pretended not to know what she was talking about as he walked back toward the house.
“Why don’t you want to kiss me? We both enjoyed the first one.”
He didn’t answer until he had gone inside and set the basket on the counter. “Because you look like you want it too much.” He could’ve added, “because I want it too much,” but he decided that much knowledge could be dangerous in her hands.
“And there’s something wrong with that?”
He made the mistake of looking at her. She leaned back, elbows resting on the counter, which thrust her breasts forward. Damn, his hands began to itch with the need to touch them, massage them.
Before Cal could stop himself, he let his gaze move over her. From her sultry half-closed eyes, to her full lips,
