His robe was draped over the foot of the bed. He took a step toward it, then jerked back with a grunt of pain. His bare foot had come down on something sharp—some object caught in the thick wool of the rug.
Bending over, he found it with his fingers, picked it up and held it to the light. It was a small silver earring, inlaid with turquoise and fashioned in the shape of Kokopelli, the humpbacked Native American flute player. He stared at it, recognition slamming him like a mule kick.
Terri’s earring.
Buck sank onto the edge of the bed. Lord, could he have had mind-blowing sex with Terri, who’d always been like a kid sister to him? Terri, that miracle of patience and efficiency who kept the hectic world of Bucket List Enterprises running like well-oiled clockwork?
No, it was unbelievable. But it was the only possible answer. Terri would have the gate code and the security combination for the front door. The dog, who’d bark at any stranger, knew her well. Glancing at the clock, he saw how late he’d slept. That made sense, too—Terri must have come to check on him when he hadn’t shown up at work.
And only Terri would have turned on his cell phone when she left and set the ringer loud enough to wake him. Knowing her, she probably would’ve fed the dog, too. He would remember to check when he went downstairs.
But if Terri was the answer, he still had plenty of questions. Had he really had sex with her? But the dream, which seemed less and less dreamlike the more he thought of it, left little doubt of that. He remembered waking up to a woman leaning over him, remembered pulling her into bed. Remembered her response, and the way she’d made him feel... He’d initiated the encounter, but she’d come willingly.
No way would she have joined him in that bed...unless she’d wanted to.
Holding that thought, Buck showered in the bathroom, finger-raked his hair, and pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt. He was wide-awake now, but going back to work today wouldn’t be a great idea, especially since Terri would be there. Sooner or later he’d have to face her. But before that happened, he had some serious thinking to do.
He took a minute to phone Evie Redfeather and arrange for her to pick up Quinn in Sedona. Evie, a retired air force fighter pilot, had made the short flight before and said she didn’t mind going again. That taken care of, he went downstairs in his bare feet to make coffee.
With cup in hand he wandered out onto the redwood deck and leaned on the railing. His eyes traced the passing flight of a golden eagle, its wings casting a brief shadow against the sunset-hued cliffs. A downward glance into the yard confirmed that Murphy’s food dish was full of kibble, his water bowl freshly filled. Terri had been here, all right. No one else would think to take care of his dog while he was sick.
But what was he going to do about her? Terri was his right-hand woman, the person he depended on for everything from booking tours and flights to hiring and firing employees to fending off Diane. But sleeping with her would change the dynamics of what had been a perfect relationship—a relationship he couldn’t afford to lose. He could get a bed partner anytime he wanted one. But, damn it, Terri was irreplaceable.
Buck sipped his coffee and thought hard. This misstep would have to be dealt with. The question was, how?
He could call her into his office—no, maybe take her out to dinner, apologize profusely and promise it would never happen again. But how might Terri respond to that? At best it would create an awkward situation between them. Or she could be hurt. She could feel rejected, even angry. She could even—God forbid—quit her job and leave.
There had to be a way to put this behind them without harming their relationship.
Buck gazed down at the cooled dregs of the coffee in his cup, thinking hard. What if he were to behave as if the whole thing had never happened? After all, he’d been half-asleep. Surely Terri wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t remember. She might even be relieved.
The more he thought about the idea the better it sounded. Nothing would have to change—no expectations, no awkwardness. Terri could go on working for him as always. Even if she suspected him of knowing, she’d have no proof.
His white lie would save face for both of them.
But it didn’t make him feel any better about what had happened. Sex with Terri had been sensational. With any other woman, he would have been lobbying for a return engagement. But Terri was off-limits. Not only was she his employee but she was Steve’s kid sister, the girl he’d promised to look after when Steve didn’t make it home from Iraq.
And having half-drugged sex with her wasn’t part of that promise.
At the moment Buck didn’t like himself much. Between now and the next time he saw her, he had some soul-searching to do.
* * *
By the time Terri had finished her last task for the day—posting tomorrow’s schedule online—it was an hour past closing time. Bob and the summer temps had gone, leaving her there alone to close up. She was about to lock the door when Quinn, trailed by Evie Redfeather, came bounding across the parking lot.
“Hi, Terri!” Blond ponytail flying, Quinn collided with Terri in an exuberant hug.
Terri hugged her back. She adored Buck’s daughter. “How’s my favorite girl?” she asked, meaning it.
“Great!” Quinn’s blue eyes, so like her father’s, sparkled.
“You’re taller,” Terri said.
“I know. Mom says I’m having a growth spurt. The clothes I left here won’t fit. We’ll have to go shopping for new ones.”
Evie Redfeather had come up behind her. In her early fifties, she was a handsome, broad-faced Navajo woman. “Buck asked me to drop her off at his house, but we were two hours late getting out of Sedona.” She shook her head. “That woman! Always with the drama!”
Terri didn’t have to ask Evie who she meant.
“I saw your Jeep in the parking lot and realized you must still be here,” Evie said. “I hope you won’t mind running Quinn home. Bert and I are expecting friends for dinner. I need to get going.”
“Sure.” Terri stifled a groan. The last thing she wanted was to show up at Buck’s house with Quinn. The conversation they needed to have couldn’t happen with little ears present. “Go on, Evie. Thanks for picking her up.”
“No problem. Here, I’ve got her bag. I’ll put it in your Jeep.”
Terri felt Quinn’s hand slip into hers as they followed Evie’s long strides to the Jeep. She fought back a rising attack of nerves. How would Buck react to what had happened? Would he treat her any differently because of it? Would he be embarrassed? Aloof? Indifferent?
But this wasn’t about her and Buck, Terri reminded herself. It was about Quinn, and making the little girl’s homecoming a happy occasion. She could only hope Buck would be out of bed and fit to welcome his daughter.
“Up you go.” She boosted Quinn into the high seat of the Jeep. “Hang on, we’ll have you there in a jiffy.”
“What’s a jiffy?” Quinn asked as Terri climbed into the Jeep. “You use the funniest words, Terri.”
“A jiffy is a very short bit of time. I learned lots of old-fashioned words from my grandma. Maybe I should’ve said we’d be there in the flick of a lamb’s tail. Would you have liked that better?”
Quinn giggled. Terri had kept her distance during the short duration of Buck’s marriage. But after the divorce, once Quinn became old enough to spend time in Utah with her father, she’d become attached to the little girl. Maybe too attached. What if Buck were to remarry? Could she back off and let Quinn go?
But she wouldn’t think about that now. Things were already complicated enough.
“Can we go out for pizza tonight?” Quinn asked. “I want lots