Texas Tough

by Janice Maynard

  “But you mentioned health issues?”

  “He had a massive heart attack when I was a year older than you are. We almost lost him.” A shadow crossed Carter’s face. “The doctor said it was imperative that Dad cut back on both the physical labor and the stress, but my mother knew Dad too well. She realized he couldn’t play at being a rancher. So she convinced him to retire and hand over the reins and the keys and the headaches to me. They moved to Florida and threw themselves into fishing and boating and everything else that comes with a carefree lifestyle.”

  “How did you cope in the beginning?” she asked.

  “It was scary as hell, I’ll admit it. I had a good roster of men working under me, but knowing that the decisions were all mine was terrifying.”

  “Did you resent having to shoulder so much responsibility?”

  His jaw tightened, his gaze stormy. “Is this a documentary or a therapy session?”

  “It was just a question, Carter. You don’t have to answer.”

  “Yes,” he said, the single word flat. “I did have some negative feelings at first. I was a young male adult, intent on pursuing my own agenda. I’d finished a degree in business management, but I wasn’t particularly interested in settling down.”

  “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve made my father proud. That was reason enough to put aside my personal goals. And as the years have passed, I haven’t regretted that decision. This ranch is thriving. It provides jobs.”

  “And the legacy is unbroken,” she murmured softly.

  “That, too.”

  “I assume you’ll want to pass Sunset Acres on to your own children someday?”

  “Next question.”

  Okay. Touchy issue. She checked the viewfinder again and shifted the tripod to get a new angle. “So tell me about Madeline, your ex-fiancée.”

  Carter rose to his feet, glowering. “Turn off the camera.” The words were curt. “I don’t see how that question pertains to your documentary. If you want to ask me for personal info, Abby, please have the guts to admit that you’re interested.”

  His sharp criticism stung, particularly because it was on point.

  Flushing uncomfortably, she shut off the recording. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Lila told me the bare bones. I guess I wondered how your girlfriend fit into your legacy.”

  “She didn’t. That’s why we broke up.”

  “How did you meet?”

  He prowled, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I was in Chicago with my whole family to attend the wedding of one of my cousins. Madeline was a guest. We hit it off. There was sexual chemistry. I think both of us were looking for something and had convinced ourselves we found it.”

  “That must have sucked when you realized otherwise.”

  “Yeah, it did,” he admitted gruffly. “Partly because I disappointed my mom. She was over the moon that her boy was finally settling down.”

  “You were running a huge ranch. That seems pretty settled to me.”

  “It’s different. I told you...she wants grandchildren.”

  “Ah, yes,” Abby murmured.

  “Are we done with this now?” He scowled at her.

  “Sure. I’d like to ask you some more questions,” she said. “Not personal. More about what your days are like. The actual running of a ranching operation.”

  He glanced at his watch. “I have a few things I need to take care of. Why don’t you make yourself at home, and I’ll be back in an hour or so...”

  “Do you have internet?” she asked.

  “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?”

  “A valid one. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  His expression cooled. “Only in your eyes.”

  When Carter strode out of the room, Abby realized that she had let her prejudices show. No matter how rural the landscape, Royal and the surrounding environs were home to an upscale roster of citizens. Money flowed like water apparently. These people were worldly and powerful.

  She’d heard somewhere that Maverick County had more cows than people. That might not be true, but it was certainly possible. Still, the people themselves were the furthest thing from unsophisticated.

  Even in the short time she had been in town, she had been forced to confront her expectations. It was becoming clear that her documentary would include entrepreneurs and politicians, society mavens and trendsetters. Blue bloods and old money. Not to mention the occasional upstart.

  How was she going to capture all that and still frame Soiree on the Bay in an interesting way? The footage with Carter was a start, but she needed more.

  With him gone for an hour, she was free to explore his house on her own, this time more carefully. She didn’t open drawers or closets. Duh. She wasn’t a weirdo. Instead, she walked room to room, soaking up the ambience.

  She stopped at the threshold to Carter’s bedroom. Even alone, she wouldn’t trespass. It didn’t take a psychologist to tell her that she was fascinated with his personal space. The man was intensely masculine, but he lived alone. What did he do with all that pent-up sexual energy? A little flutter low in her belly told her she wanted to find out.

  It took considerable effort, but she made herself go back to the great room and deal with email. Her mother wanted to know how things were going, as did her dad. She gave them each a slightly different version of her time in Royal. After that, she watched the raw footage of Carter that she had just shot.

  Holy heck, he looked good on camera. Broad shoulders, brooding good looks. And his occasional smiles were pure gold. Plus, when he talked, there was an authenticity about him, a sense of integrity. In the old days, people would have called him a straight shooter.

  She ran out of things to do about the time she heard the back door slam. Carter appeared in the doorway, looking hot and windblown. “Any chance you’d be interested in that swim now?”

  “Sure. As long as one of the suits fits. I’m not skinny-dipping with you, ranch man. At least not in broad daylight,” she said, giving him a taunting grin.

  The heat in his laser-blue gaze seared her. “Then I suppose I’ll have to keep you here until dark. I grill a mean steak.”

  She swallowed, feeling out of her depth. She’d been teasing about the skinny-dipping, but Carter appeared to take her words at face value. “I don’t want to drive back to Royal in the dark,” she said, entirely serious. “I don’t know these roads. I might hit an armadillo.”

  His face lit up with humor. “I’ll take you home. One of my guys can return your car in the morning.”

  Well, she had run out of excuses. What did she really want? And was she brave enough to take the risk?

  Seven

  Carter wondered if Abby knew how expressive her face was. He swore he could read every emotion. She was flattered. And probably interested. But she was cautious, too. He could hardly blame her.

  “I won’t pressure you, Abby. All you have to do is say the word, and we can part as friends.”

  “Is there another category than friends?” Her smile was a little on the shaky side.

  “You know there is. I want you. But only if you feel the same way. And beyond that, there’s no timetable... Is there?”

  She lifted one slender shoulder and let it fall. “Actually, yes. I won’t be here more than a few weeks. That’s not much time to decide whether I can trust you.”

  He cocked his head. “Trust me how? I’m no threat to you, Abs.” He held up his hands, palms out. “There’s no quid pro quo. I’ll let you interview me some more even if you and I never knock boots. You have my word.”

  “Knock boots? Are you kidding me? Is that a Texas expression? Besides, it’s easy for you to be magnanimous. You know how sexy you are. I’m not sure I can keep this professional. I’m not even sure I want to...”

&nb
sp; “So, where does that leave us?” It wouldn’t do for her to know how tightly wound he was as he awaited her answer.

  She grimaced. “Let’s swim,” she said. “After that, I don’t know...”

  Fifteen minutes later, when Abby exited the house and joined him in the pool, he was damn glad the water concealed his instant boner. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

  And he was wrong about her being skinny. Now that she was wearing a remarkably modest, but nevertheless provocative, black two-piece swimsuit, it was painfully clear that Abby had all the curves a man could want. Long, toned legs to wrap around his waist. A flat stomach with a diamond belly button piercing that caught the sun, and breasts that were just the right size to fill a man’s hands.

  His fists clenched at his sides. “I see the suit fit you.”

  “Quit staring,” she said sharply.

  With no apparent self-consciousness, she walked to the end of the diving board, bounced once and made a clean dive into the pool. When she surfaced, she lifted her face to the sun and slicked back her hair, laughing.

  “The water is perfect,” she said. “Do you swim every day?”

  “Not always.” And why was that? There was no good reason other than the fact that his waking hours were busy.

  Abby began doing laps, her long legs and strong arms propelling her through the water easily. Carter followed suit, careful to keep to his side of the pool. They were completely alone. None of his staff would dare seek him out without an okay ahead of time. And since he had his phone on silent, this little bubble of intimacy was intact.

  At last, Abby tired. She stayed in the deep end, treading water. Finally, she clung to the metal ladder, one arm curled around the bottom step. “This is nice.”

  An invisible cord drew him across the pool to where she lazily kicked her legs. He stopped a few feet away, his heart pounding. Water clung to her beautiful skin in droplets that refracted the sunlight. Her eyelashes were spiky. Brown eyes stared at him as if assessing his intent.

  “I’m gonna kiss you, Abs,” he said hoarsely. “Unless you object.”

  Her eyes widened. But she didn’t speak. She didn’t move.

  He was tall enough to touch bottom. Moving closer still, he brushed her arm. “Hang on, Abby.”

  Without hesitation, she released the ladder and curled her arms around his neck. Now their bodies were pressed together so closely he could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest. All the blood left his head, rushing south.

  Maybe he had heat stroke. His brain felt muzzy, and his hands tingled. “Abby...” With one arm around her back and the other hand gripping the ladder, he stared into her eyes. Deep in the midst of those chocolate irises he found tiny flecks of gold.

  “Car...ter...” She caressed his name, infusing it with sensuality. Her lips curled in a smile. “This feels naughty.”

  “Hell, yeah...” He tried to laugh, but he didn’t have enough oxygen.

  She nipped his bottom lip with a tiny, stinging bite, then soothed the pain with her tongue. “You taste like chlorine,” she whispered.

  He yanked her closer and slammed his mouth down on hers. No smooth moves, no practiced technique. Only sheer desperation.

  She met him kiss for kiss, not submitting, but battling. He wondered in some far distant corner of his brain if the heat they were conjuring would turn the pool water to steam.

  If two people could devour each other, this was how it would happen. She was strong and feminine, her skin and muscles soft and smooth everywhere he was hard. Lust roared through his veins. He wanted her. But his conscience said, too soon...

  After what seemed like an eternity, he made himself pull back. Abby’s lips were swollen and puffy from his kisses. Strands of her wet hair that had dried in the sun danced around her face.

  He stared at her. “We should probably find some shade,” he said. “How about a lounge chair with an umbrella and a cold drink?”

  Abby’s expression was dazed. “Sure. Water is fine for me. But you go up the ladder first. I don’t want you staring at my ass.”

  “Too late.”

  That finally made her smile.

  He did as she asked, lifting himself out of the pool and deliberately shaking water at her. When Abby screeched, he chuckled. The small fridge in the pool house held chilled water bottles. He grabbed a couple of those along with some dry towels that he spread on the two chaises. Abby hovered nearby, her arms wrapped around her waist. Long, beautiful hair cascaded down her back.

  “Ladies first,” he said.

  Abby widened the gap between the two chairs by about a foot, and then settled onto the lounger gracefully, raising her arms over her head and bending one knee.

  Carter took the remaining seat and lay back with a sigh. Despite his arousal, the sensation of hot sun on his wet skin was a familiar, soothing taste of summer. Behind his sunglasses, he managed to sneak a sideways glance.

  Was she asleep? Awake? He couldn’t decide but chose to assume the latter. “You want to tell me more about yesterday’s advisory board meeting?”

  She turned her face in his direction, a half smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Business talk?”

  “It’s either that or carry you to my bedroom. Seemed premature.”

  He witnessed her startled breath, a gasp really, quickly disguised. “I think I covered everything.”

  “Then let’s talk about you.”

  She slung an arm over her eyes, shutting him out. But he wasn’t so easily dissuaded. “Seriously, Abs, you’ve grilled me nonstop. And if that weren’t enough, Lila blabbed about my personal life. I think it’s only fair that I get to delve into your psyche.”

  Moving her arm, she scowled at him. “Couldn’t we just have sex?”

  He laughed. “You don’t like being interviewed any more than I do.”

  “Why do you think I chose to be on this side of the camera?”

  “You’re only twenty-four,” Carter reminded her. “How bad could your secrets be?”

  “Who said I have secrets?”

  He exhaled, emptying his lungs so he could inhale the scent of her again. “Everybody has secrets, Abby. But you can start with your childhood. What were you like in school?”

  Her profile made him ache. Vulnerability etched her features. “I was lonely mostly. That whole mean girl stereotype is based on reality. I was a biracial kid in a sea of white faces. I was an oddity. So that put me on the outside looking in. I didn’t understand why until I was seven or eight. But the first day someone said a nasty thing about my father, I was done trying to fit in. My mother went to see the principal over and over, begging for adult intervention. That only made things worse.”

  His stomach twisted. “I’m sorry, Abby.”

  “It got better in high school. There was a more diverse population. Supersmart kids whose parents had immigrated to New York as children, grown up there. I gradually built a circle of intimates, classmates with whom I could be myself.” She released a breath. “In fact, my very best friend is a Pakistani woman who’s now a doctor at Lenox Hill Hospital in New York. She’s doing a residency in geriatric medicine. We’ve brainstormed about me maybe doing a documentary about the social and emotional costs of increased life span.”

  “Wow.” Carter stared at her, for the first time understanding how complex she was, how passionate and talented. “I’m impressed, Abby. You’ve made an amazing life for yourself.”

  “It suits me. I love to travel, and I don’t mind traveling alone. My parents have always given me a lot of freedom. I tried never to abuse their trust.”

  Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t awkward. They were sizing each other up, wondering about the differences in their lives and whether there was even the tiniest bit of overlap.

  He honestly didn’t know. A decade separated them, though that
age gap was hardly a novelty. Abby was city mouse; he was country mouse. She was happiest crisscrossing the country, whereas he had deep roots in this Texas soil.

  “Do you still want to film me talking about the ranch?” he asked gruffly.

  Her eyes flew open, and she turned on her side. “You don’t mind?”

  He tried not to notice the way her breasts nearly spilled out of her swimsuit top in that position. “It wouldn’t be my first choice, but if it will help you with your project, I’ll do it.”

  Her smile blinded him. “Thank you, Carter. That’s awesome.” She jumped up. “I’ll go change, and we’ll get started.”

  After she left, he stared glumly at the water. Was he stupid? If he’d kept his mouth shut, Abby would still be beside him, sunbathing like a beautiful goddess, at arm’s length.

  Maybe his subconscious was trying to point out how self-destructive it would be to initiate a physical relationship under these circumstances. Even so, his libido demanded equal time. It was hours yet until sundown. Anything could happen.

  * * *

  Abby was thrilled and surprised that Carter had agreed to more on-camera time. She changed back into her clothes, twisted her damp hair into a loose knot on the back of her head and rushed to the great room to prepare for this next session. The fire, of course, had long since burned out.

  Since she didn’t have the heart to ask Carter to build another, she shifted his chair in front of some beautiful cherry bookcases. And she tossed a Native American blanket over the back corner of the chair.

  By the time she had the scene prepared to her liking, Carter was back.

  He had showered. Her twitching nose told her that. The scent of a very expensive aftershave emanated from him. Why would a man shave midafternoon? To be ready for a rendezvous later in the evening?

  Her heart skipped a beat, but she focused on her work. “I’m all set,” she said. “Why don’t you take your seat, and we’ll get started.”

  Carter was dressed a little less casually this time. His dark dress pants and gray knit polo shirt showcased his impressive physique. It was clear that the owner of Sunset Acres was a hands-on boss, one who spent plenty of time doing heavy chores and building up the strength to bench-press a car. Or woo a woman.