Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash Page 11

  Jenna scanned the pictures, trying not to blanch. She did not like this boyfriend. He had a shifty look she didn’t trust and when he wasn’t leering for the camera, he had his hands draped suggestively over Emily.

  She sighed, trying to lighten up. Maybe she was a teensy bit jealous that Em was having such fun, that she was working toward her degree, that she was moving toward a better life. But it would have been much simpler if her sister had applied to the local college. Cheaper too. Easy admissions. Only a thirty-minute drive and a heap of money could be saved by living at home.

  She pressed Wally’s number, needing the reassurance of a friendly voice.

  “Good morning. Wally Turner speaking.”

  “Hey, Wally,” she said. “Why so formal? It’s only me.”

  “The display said Burke Industries. Jesus, Jenna. I left three messages yesterday, and one time Burke answered your phone. What the hell was he doing there? Acted like he’d moved in.”

  Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head at the accusation in Wally’s voice. Men were such idiots. “Well, I’m fine. I burned my wrist yesterday and can’t work for a few weeks. But thanks for asking.”

  “Calm down. I was going to ask about your hand next. But you have to come in, if only to pretend to work. All your sick days were used moving Emily. Or maybe you can help tally some of the inventory. At least, show your face for half an hour each day.”

  “Oh, Wally.” She gave a hysterical laugh. “You make it sound so easy. I wish you were still the boss.”

  “What’s wrong?” He paused and his breathing turned heavy. “No way. You mean that bastard stuck you on long-term?”

  “He doesn’t believe I can do the job right now. But it’s only for a little while.” She swallowed, slowing her words, surprised by her need to defend Burke. “And he did buy some groceries. And left me this neat phone.”

  Wally snorted. “He just doesn’t want you to sue. Their rep for not being employee friendly isn’t helped by your accident, especially since I heard it was his fault. Damn ruthless people. They have their tentacles everywhere. My hay guy already signed a new contract with Burke, even though he promised to jack prices.

  “Why don’t you sue him, Jenna?” Wally added. “Might get a fair chunk of change. Maybe not have to work for a while. Pay for a year of Em’s tuition.”

  Jenna stared blankly at the tips of her pale fingers poking from the bandage. So that’s why Burke had encouraged her to use her right hand. Playing cards, leaving the fancy phone. He was afraid she’d have residual damage. Good God, and she’d thought he was being nice.

  “I’m not suing anyone, Wally. I like to work. And it was as much my fault as his.” Her voice came out flat and resigned. “Do you know who he hired?”

  “He hired someone? To replace you? Aw, Jenna, I’m so sorry.”

  The genuine sympathy in Wally’s voice made her throat tighten. “It’s only for a little while,” she said quickly. “I just wondered who it was.”

  “Don’t know. Look, I’ve got to go. He’s here now, only about thirty feet away. Giving me one of those dark looks.”

  The phone went dead. It was obvious who Wally was talking about. She hoped she hadn’t landed him in any more trouble with Burke. She retreated to the cooler porch and stared blankly across the road. Peanut grazed contentedly, probably surprised he was getting extra time to eat. Didn’t realize she wasn’t going anywhere. Not today. Not for a while.

  Damn. At least she could make good use of her time. She eyed the wooden ladder by the deserted chicken coop. Probably a good day to inspect the roof. If the shingles weren’t too bad, she could postpone repairs and wait for Emily to come home. Between the two of them, they’d get it done.

  She dragged the old ladder to the side of the trailer. Struggled to prop it on the uneven grass. It was hard climbing with one hand and damn hot, but she managed, though she moved slower than usual.

  She edged along the roof, inspecting the worn shingles and staying low. The roof over the bedrooms wasn’t too bad. That section had been recently patched, but the part above the kitchen needed immediate repair. There was some roofing left at the Center’s construction site. Maybe she could ask the friendly guy, Terry, if she could buy the leftovers. She wouldn’t need much, about twelve square feet, and they generally discarded it anyway.

  Of course, Burke might not like that. She’d have to paint it a different color so he wouldn’t guess the source, and good paint was expensive.

  Christ, Burke was becoming a major pain in the ass.

  Frustrated, she banged the top of the ladder then jerked in dismay as it wobbled, slid sideways and toppled to the grass.

  ***

  Burke crossed his arms, waiting impatiently for Wally to finish his phone call. The man had been on his cell all morning, probably trying to whip up more trouble. It wasn’t going to work. With Leo Winfield’s support, Burke would soon have the town in his pocket. A few publicity appearances for the locals and any lingering hostility toward the Center would disappear.

  Perhaps it had been rash to cut off the visits for local horses. He should have waited a month or two before clamping down.

  Wally closed his phone and raised an inquiring eyebrow. “What do you need…boss?”

  His tone edged on insolence and Burke scowled. He’d merely intended to give Wally a heads-up about the Ridgeman stud, but the man definitely needed an attitude adjustment. Needed to have his chain yanked.

  “We have cobblestones scheduled for installation tomorrow,” Burke said, “as well as flowerbeds by the front entrance. You’ll need to supervise.”

  “But tomorrow’s Saturday.”

  Burke gave a tight smile. “That’s right.”

  “But I was planning to attend the steeplechase. So folks can see Three Brooks still supports this town.”

  “No problem. I’ll handle it.”

  Wally’s mouth flattened. “Fine, then. Where are the stones going?”

  “In the courtyard, by the visitors’ parking lot.”

  “I always thought cobblestones would look nice there,” Wally nodded reluctantly, “but could never justify the expense.”

  The man seemed to truly care for the Center and Burke softened. “We may have a Derby winner coming. His connections are checking out the place next week. Staff might have a big horse to pamper.”

  “What about Jenna?”

  “What about her?” Burke squared his shoulders.

  “Heard she’s off work for a bit. She’s got a special touch with a horse. I think we need her around…and she needs us.”

  “I’ll look after staffing. And the employees.”

  “Good to know. And I’ll look after the rocks and flowers.” Wally gave a sardonic salute and walked away, shoulders stiff with resentment.

  Burke’s eyes narrowed. If he could only prove the stealing, Wally would be gone within the hour. And the man’s inference that he wasn’t looking after staff stung. Yesterday, he’d spent most of the day with Jenna. Had enjoyed it even. Liked looking after her.

  He glanced at his watch, wondering if she were awake yet. Probably still asleep, especially if she’d popped those pills, but it was important to keep flexing her fingers. Yeah, probably time to check on her progress.

  Smiling, he headed for the parking lot.

  When he pulled in the driveway, she wasn’t in sight but the ugly pony chomped grass by the side of the road. The little guy even surprised him with a friendly nicker when he walked past.

  Something moved on the roof. Jenna? A flash of bare leg. He jerked to a stop and adjusted his sunglasses. “What the hell are you doing up there?” he called.

  “Just checking the roof. Seeing what needs to be patched. Thanks for the great phone, by the way.”

  He nodded, not really interested, too busy craning his neck trying to see what she wore. Didn’t seem to be much. “Come on down and make me a coffee,” he finally said.

  “Well,” she blew out a resigned sigh, �
�I’m actually a bit stuck.”

  “Where’s your ladder?”

  She gestured at the side of the trailer and he circled to where a wooden contraption lay on the patchy grass.

  “It fell when I was starting to climb down, so if you could just lean it back against the roof, I’d be grateful.”

  “Lucky you weren’t hurt. It wouldn’t help your wrist…” His words trailed off. Oh, wow. Her tanned legs were long and bare, and she wore either a tiny pair of pink shorts or else, please God, some slinky, scanty underwear.

  He shoved his sunglasses higher on his nose, straining to see. Definitely shorts—but tiny shorts she filled out perfectly. Great legs too, which he’d already surmised, but it was a treat to see them free of the customary jeans. Hard to look away. He didn’t even try and instead blew out an appreciative whistle. “How grateful would you be,” he asked softly, his hand pausing over the ladder.

  “Not grateful enough for sex,” she said. “And don’t be rude.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of sex.” Liar. “But I do need you to accompany me to the local steeplechase tomorrow.”

  She uncrossed her arms and peered down, seeming to relax a notch. “I always go to that anyway. Wally presents the trophy.”

  “Not tomorrow he isn’t. And I need someone to introduce me.”

  “That’s not fair.” Her voice thickened with resentment. “I’m not healthy enough to go to work but okay to work on weekends?”

  “That’s right. And I need a local with me. Someone who the people like.”

  “What about the person you hired for my job?” She slapped at a mosquito, the sound unusually sharp in the still air.

  “She doesn’t start until Monday. So unfortunately, I need you.”

  “You’re such a smooth talker.” Her lips tightened. “I’m coming down now. But can you turn around, please. It’s hot and I’m not dressed for company.”

  “But someone needs to hold this rather wobbly ladder.” He propped it against the side of the trailer but couldn’t keep the chuckle from his voice. “I promise to catch you if you fall.”

  Her head appeared over the edge of the roof. She wasn’t wearing a bra and the outline of her nipples was visible beneath the white tube top. Her breasts were bigger than he’d originally thought, firm and pretty as hell. He stared in blunt appreciation. Maybe he’d wiggle the ladder a bit, cause some convenient tipsiness. Maybe she really would fall.

  Her gaze flickered as though reading his mind, and she stared at him for a long moment. “It looks so high from up here,” she finally said, crossing her arms. “Are you sure it’s steady?”

  He dragged his eyes off her breasts and back to her face. “Absolutely. Look.” He stepped on the first rung, hoping the rotten wood would hold his weight, keen to get closer. He hadn’t seen a tube top in years but had always thought they were the brainchild of a very smart man.

  She gave a helpless shrug. “It is scary though. I’d feel better if you held it at the top. That’s where it slid earlier, when I tried to turn around and couldn’t hold on with my right hand.”

  “I’ll come up,” he said, his voice husky. He’d been looking forward to checking out her ass and legs as she climbed down, but the view from the top carried its own advantages. Besides, a man always had to be gallant, and gallantry was much easier when the woman looked like Jenna.

  He climbed quickly, placing his feet on the far outside of the rungs. The ladder had to be a hundred years old, maybe more, and she looked relieved when he reached the top.

  “Be sure to hold it tight,” she whispered as she slipped past. Her breasts flashed but she descended quickly, amazingly nimble for a one-handed woman. He couldn’t see down her top, not at that speed, but it was still entertaining. He was disappointed when she reached the ground and her breasts stopped bouncing. He pulled his gaze away, turned to follow—

  Thud. The ladder toppled to the ground. She glanced up, her coy smile replaced with a mutinous expression. “Did anybody ever tell you that you’re mean and rude and—” Her chest heaved as she searched for the right word.

  “Annoyed,” he added but he wasn’t, not really. He stared down, careful now to keep his gaze on her face. He had been ogling and it was already clear she didn’t like to be cornered. But yesterday he’d had her in his arms, and he’d assumed they’d made some sort of progress.

  However, the resentment in her voice was laced with something even more confusing—genuine hurt.

  “I can massage horses and I can do my job,” she was saying. “Look!” She waved her arm, fluttering the tips of her fingers. “And by Monday, I’ll be even better and there was no…n-need to put me on short-term. Or hire a replacement. And I hate it that you have to buy me food.” She spun away. “I’ll get dressed,” she muttered. “Then put the ladder back.”

  He groaned then crossed to the front of the roof, hung onto the edge with his hands, and dropped lightly to the ground by the porch.

  She walked around the corner of the trailer, swiping at her face. Froze when she saw him, her eyes as wide as a startled deer.

  “Maybe you better explain what short-term is,” he said mildly. He lowered himself on the step, trying to appear less threatening but careful to remain between her and the screen door.

  She averted her head, wiping furiously at her face, pretending to look at Peanut, anywhere but at him. “Short term means sixty-percent salary. And maybe I should be but,” her voice cracked, “it just makes things a bit hard right now—”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” He swooped across the walk and wrapped his arms around her. “I didn’t know that. Don’t worry. I’ll fix it.” She didn’t move, standing so stiffly he slipped his hand around the back of her neck, remembering she liked that, and rubbed until she marginally relaxed.

  “I just want you to heal,” he added. “The company doesn’t want to cause any hardship.”

  “And that’s another thing.” She tilted her head, her eyes wide and concerned. “This…thing we have. It’s uncomfortable because you’re my boss. I like you. I like playing cards with you. But it’s definitely not a good idea to have sex.”

  “Probably not.” He matched her solemn expression, refraining from mentioning she was wrapped in his arms, half naked, something he’d learned was always an excellent step toward sexual relations. And he definitely wasn’t going to be the first to move away. In fact, he subtly shifted so that her breasts nudged against his chest, camouflaging the action with a reassuring neck rub.

  “Did you take your pills today?” He splayed his left hand over her hip, discreetly checking out her curves, over the spot where he guessed her tattoo was.

  “Sure did, ten already.”

  He jerked back. She sidestepped and waltzed up the steps, so smoothly he realized it had been a ploy. Escape from his arms without hurting his feelings. The screen door slammed behind her sculpted legs, and he chuckled. This was going to be fun. Like taking over a particularly resistant company.

  He wandered to the porch and stretched out on the swing. The shade was nice, the breeze fresh; it really was a pleasant place. He whipped off seventeen emails, fifteen texts and called Edward.

  “Things will be stable here by the end of the month,” Burke said, “so you can slot me in for another job.”

  “Good. We’ll make more money off the Ridgeman stud than that Center made in three months.” His cousin loved turning big profits, and Burke could picture Edward rubbing his hands in glee.

  “Yeah,” Burke said, “and it’s a simple operation. With a good manager, not much can go wrong. Although I might drop in and conduct periodic checks.”

  “Why the hell would you want to go back there?” Edward groaned. “Let me guess. You got a woman stashed away. Some society chick with fancy horses?”

  “Not exactly.” Burke watched as the scruffy pony swished his tail and wandered into deeper grass, contentedly seeking a choicer selection.

  “Good, because Theresa misses you.” Edward’s voice carri
ed a trace of warning. “And her family has important connections. Wouldn’t hurt to give her a call, stroke her a bit.”

  The screen door squeaked and Jenna appeared, awkwardly balancing a tray in her left hand. “Got a meeting,” Burke said, cutting the connection and rising to his feet.

  “Is that what upper management says when they’re goofing off?” She lifted an eyebrow, letting him take the tray.

  “Pretty much, and you should avoid carrying such hot drinks.” He shook his head as he placed the cups on the table. “They’re dangerous.”

  “That was an unusual occurrence. I told Terry I liked boiling tea and he took me literally.”

  “Who’s Terry?” He picked up his coffee mug, careful to keep his voice neutral.

  “An old school friend of mine. Works on the construction site.” She paused, studying him over her teacup. “I thought if there was some old roofing that wasn’t being used, just scrap pieces of course, that Terry could drop by some evening and fix the leaks in my roof.”

  “Really? You thought there’d be that much scrap?” He injected a deliberate note of incredulity, raising an eyebrow until she flushed and looked away. It wasn’t such a big deal but he didn’t like the image of Terry pounding on her roof, relaxing on the swing afterward, sipping a cold beer. His beer.

  “Guess it’s not such a good idea.” She plucked at the bandage on her arm, her sigh slightly forlorn.

  “I’ll fix your roof on Sunday. Forecast is good all weekend.”

  “Really. That’s so nice of you to offer.” She beamed such a satisfied smile, he realized he’d been conned. He set his mug on the tray, stretched his arm over her shoulder, and chuckled. “Is Terry really a school friend?” he asked.

  “Hardly know him,” she said with a mischievous smile.

  “Let’s keep it that way then.” He tucked her into his chest, wishing she hadn’t changed from her tiny top and shorts. Clearly, she wanted to move slowly which was fine with him, so long as they were moving. “Did you remember to take your pills?” He slid his hand beneath her hair and began rubbing the back of her neck.