Perfect Touch

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Book: Read Perfect Touch for Free Online
Authors: Elizabeth Lowell
business.

CHAPTER 5
    W HILE SARA WATCHED Jay walk around the hood of the truck to reach the driver’s side, part of her felt like she was fifteen, wearing fashionably ripped jeans, a midriff top, teased hair, and purple eye shadow, standing in the movie theater parking lot with someone blasting trash rock from their cassette deck.
    Back before I learned that having a man wasn’t as good as having my freedom to be and do what I want to do and be.
    â€œThat’s an interesting smile,” Jay said as he climbed in.
    â€œJust remembering how young I once was.”
    â€œBet the boys chased you.”
    â€œYou’d lose. I was plain as a fence post.”
    The engine revved, an echo of his laughter. “You’ll have to show me pictures before I believe that.”
    â€œI burned them.”
    Shaking his head, he drove her the few blocks to the Lariat motel. When he saw the mess that someone had made of her room, his enjoyment vanished.
    â€œI hope Cooke catches whoever it was,” Jay said.
    â€œI’m not holding my breath.” She handed his jacket back to him and got to work.
    With the efficiency of someone who spent too much time traveling, she put clothes and toiletries back into her suitcase, packed up the orphaned computer plug, and gave the room a final check.
    â€œDo you have an uplink on the ranch?” she asked.
    â€œHard to do business without one.”
    â€œGood. I’ll download what I need of my records onto my tablet.”
    â€œYou’re lucky it wasn’t stolen, too,” Jay said.
    â€œIt’s in my purse, along with my cell phone. Where I go, my purse goes.”
    â€œI’ve seen smaller rucksacks,” he said, eyeing the big purse.
    â€œSome people lift weights. I lift my purse.”
    He smiled.
    She reminded herself not to stare.
    â€œI’m out of here,” she said.
    Pulling her wheeled suitcase behind, Sara headed for the door, eager to see the last of the motel room. Jay caught up with her just by lengthening his stride.
    â€œI’ll take it,” he said, reaching for her suitcase.
    With an easy motion he stashed the suitcase behind the driver’s seat of the truck.
    â€œHow far is it to the ranch?” Sara asked.
    â€œDepends on which pass is open. Twenty miles if Wolf Pass is open, almost twice that if we have to take the long way.”
    â€œAnd the winner is?”
    â€œUs,” he said. “Wolf Pass is open. Or it was when I came in this morning. Around the Tetons, weather changes when you blink, especially in the high country.”
    â€œYou can’t scare me unless it’s a bear.”
    â€œUsually we only get them at the outer edges of the ranch,” he said, “on leased grazing lands. Or sometimes up at Fish Camp, if the garbage smells particularly tempting before we get around to burning it.”
    â€œYou’re joking.”
    â€œNo, we burn garbage. Burying it just gives the bears something to dig up, and they’re a lot better at digging than a man with a shovel.”
    â€œYou really do have bears.”
    He looked at her big eyes. “Yes, city girl, we really do. Cougar, deer, antelope, elk, and Henry swore he saw wolf tracks during the melt. Does that change your mind about staying at the ranch?”
    â€œAre the Custers there?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’ll let you know after I see them.”
    He smiled.
    Sensation shivered up and down her spine.
    Forget the bears, she thought. He’s lethal.
    Good thing I spent my childhood raising my younger siblings, washing the smell of cow crap and baby barf out of my hair, and cooking for nine. I’m inoculated against his brand of rough-and-ready charm. I worked too hard getting out of the country to want to go back again for more than a brief visit.
    Very quickly, the streets of Jackson bled into a strip of commercial development on either side of the road. A few minutes later buildings stuttered out

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