Page 22 of Christmas with the Cowgirl
Miles couldn’t stop his snort of laughter.“I would have liked to have seen that.”
“Don’t think he’ll be back soon,” an utterly unconcerned Jackson said.“Maverick growled at him.”
He thought of Jeremy’s sweet golden dog.“Now that’s hard to believe.”
When the call ended, he relayed what Jackson had said to Riley, who had been waiting with obvious interest.“That’s our chief,” she said approvingly.“And good for Maverick.”
“I feel honored he hasn’t growled at me,” he said.
“As well you should,” she said.She seemed to study him for a moment, long enough to make him edgy again.“I have to say, though, I like the way you handled your Mr.Swiff.”
He shrugged.“I feel like I should have put him in a hammerlock and thrown him off the premises.”
She tilted her head again in that way she had, just looking at him, before she said, “I would have liked to see that.Like on-screen heroics and all.Do you get mistaken for an actor a lot, back there in California?”
He stifled a grimace, wondering if she was instead implying he was a fake, and couldn’t have done it.And also how the hell he went from feeling great around her to feeling…whatever this gut-churning thing was.
“No,” he said, his voice a little tight.“Mostly a surfer.”
“Now that I can see,” she said, smiling now.“Are you?”
“Used to.Not much time anymore.”
Again she just looked at him.What the heck was it about her that made him nervous?Out of desperation, and a need to do something, anything, he grabbed one of the offerings from the buffet table.Maybe she’d think that was why he was hanging around this spot.
“Are you still involved on the other two shows?”she asked.
“Some.But not as much as in the beginning.”
“So what’s eating up your time, now thatStonewallisn’t?”
He almost said,“What makes you think it isn’t?”but bit it back, knowing the thoughts that had begun stirring after seeing that exact place that had been so beautifully represented in that painting on his wall were not something he should be talking about yet.
Especially to her.
Chapter Eleven
Maybe it wasjust that L.A.vibe.
Now that the party was winding down, Riley helped Nic gather up used plates and other debris as her mind romped.She’d already spent way too much time wondering why Miles had seemed so tense after she’d mentionedStonewall.Was it still such a sore subject?
She nearly laughed at herself.Of course it was—how could it not be?He’d had success before the modern-day western, but a quieter sort.Not whatStonewallhad become, a sensation unlike anything seen in a very long time.It had likely made him beyond rich, blown up his reputation for success, and given him a lot of pull and power in a town and business that was based on exactly that.
And it had ended as abruptly as Jeremy’s mother’s life had ended.
She truly admired Jackson for what he’d done, for his son’s sake.Miles had said he did, too, and Nic had assured her his feelings were genuine, unlike many of the others who talked a good game but didn’t mean any of it.
Or Felix Swiff, who didn’t even try to talk a good game but was open and blatant with his anger at Jackson for walking away.And his disdain for anyone who supported him.
Like Miles.
Your problem is that you think there have to be two sides.
Those words had touched her on a deep level, because she had no doubt at all that he meant them.And she’d hoped to have a pleasant conversation with him, because she was…curious.
She had just started wondering if perhaps the tension had come a moment before she’d mentionedStonewall, when she’d asked him about being mistaken for an actor, when Nic’s teasing “Hello?Anybody there?”warned her she’d zoned out.
“Sorry, thinking about—” She caught herself before she admitted something that would have Nic zeroed in on her in a way she didn’t want.“About that rude Mr.Swiff.”
