by Susan Arden
At his parent’s home, Matt pulled up alongside the Range Rover. He got out, walked around the car, and held open her door. His fingers grasped her hand, helped her up and let go.
“Just follow me,” he curtly instructed. A muscle spasmed along his sharp jaw. Guess it would take more than a ride to clear the dust storm between them.
Thanks,” she said, wanting to say more but his expression brooked no further reply. Instead Matt held the driver’s door open on the SUV and she climbed behind the wheel, without another word exchanged. While she gunned the engine, she watched him retreat to his car. The brake lights flashed and he turned out onto the main roadway, she followed.
Matt turned before they reached the outbuildings. The drive wound around the ranch over a section toward the west. Pine trees dotted the landscape and a wide river rushed alongside, intersecting the street under a cement bridge. He pulled off onto a narrow road that rose up and over a hill. The driveway to his house stood up ahead.
To the side, she spotted the ridge she’d seen before. What a view! She gazed over the valley below. Without waiting for him to open her door, Carolina got out and met him at the rear of the SUV.
“I’ll get your bags,” he said.
Maybe he forgotten how much she’d brought. He lowered the tailgate and she replied, “I’d better help.”
It took several minutes to unload the SUV. In order to do it in one trip, they both were loaded down by several suitcases and bags.
“This is it?” he asked as if she’d forgotten something.
“Same luggage from before. Was I supposed to bring more?”
“It wasn’t a judgement, Carolina.” His voice sounded hard and forced.
She softly supplied, “I was only joking.”
He tersely replied, “Let’s go.”
Unlike his parents’ sprawling ranch home, Matt’s house was something she’d expect to see in a lush almost tropical oasis back in Miami. They walked along a paved driveway with a fountain on one side. A wide-open porch adorned the front of the house bordered by thick granite columns and an arched inner doorway. Tall, stately double doors were flanked on either side by professionally landscaped areas. Besides exotic grasses, there were various species of palms and colorful bromeliads in bloom.
Matt opened the front door and stood aside, waiting for her to enter. The foyer was large, the interior cool and airy. The floors were polished hardwoods that gleamed underfoot. Down the foyer and beyond, the light cast a warm golden glow from the sidelights along the front door and the early evening sun.
From what Carolina could tell, the interior was decorated in muted earth tones but it was the light that caught her attention. There was so much, especially in the great room that lay before them. More than likely, most of the light came from the French doors that overlooked a patio complete with an inground pool.
“I’ll get you settled in one of the guestrooms,” Matt announced but stopped and frowned.
The sound of women’s voices could be heard from somewhere within his home. They must’ve come as a shock since he cursed under his breath.
Matt strode forward, wearing a stern expression. He was met by a pretty young woman with fiery red hair. She wore tight jeans, a striped navy sleeveless top, and flipflops. She marched—it was the only word for how the woman moved, swinging her arms as her feet slapped the floor—into the foyer. At the sight of the young woman, Carolina faltered, stopping dead in her tracks.
“Becca, I didn’t expect you to be here,” Matt said in a flat tone.
“We didn’t expect you back so soon. It was supposed to be a surprise.” The young woman’s face beamed. She continued staring at Matt and didn’t even appear to realize anyone else was here. If infatuation could be bottled and sold, this young woman would be very, very rich.
Matt stepped aside and motioned with his arm that held one of her suitcases. “Carolina, this is Becca Sheridan, my housekeeper. Becca, Dr. Carolina Rodriguez.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said in turn.
“Carolina? What a pretty name.” Becca smiled at her with a warm and inviting open expression. “Come in.”
“Thank you,” she replied, setting down her suitcase.
Becca came forward to shake her hand. It was impossible not to like the woman. “Oh my word, let me help you with them bags. You sure must be staying awhile.”
“Only two weeks.” Carolina was overpowered by the other woman who insisted on taking more than half of what she carried.
Undeterred by the baggage, Becca was in the lead down the foyer. “Can I get you something to drink, Carolina? We’ve got a full bar. As well as pop, juice, and of course, water.”
“I’m fine.” Carolina absorbed the ‘we’ in Becca’s comment, after the fact. She tried to take in the varied facets of Matt’s home. It all seemed a bit overwhelming, coming at her in one fell swoop.
“Welcome back, Matt.” The second greeting came from an older woman standing in the great room with a measuring tape like a seamstress used slung around her neck.
“Aunt Shawna, what are you doing here, too?” Matt asked.
Too? Carolina wondered if people just popped in and out of his house at will. She met Matt’s gaze and tried not to arch her brow. From his shuttered expression, Carolina wasn’t sure if she was successful.
“You hired me to do your window treatments. The orders came in and I’m installing the wooden blinds. Isn’t that right, Becca?”
“Yessum.” Becca replied, shifting from foot to foot.
Both of the women peered over a Carolina and she returned their gaze, smiling pleasantly. Something was off.
“We’ve gotten the den done,” his aunt commented. “The room has an eastern exposure and it’s too bright in the morning. You were right about the blinds. And before you ask, we didn’t touch your computer or printer. Heaven forbid.”
“Carolina, this is my aunt, Shawna McLemore. She lives in Paris where she runs a very successful business, Four Square, Windows and Blinds.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. McLemore.” Carolina nodded in appreciation of a fellow businesswoman.
“Aunt Shawna, may I introduce, Dr. Carolina Rodriguez. She’s my friend and will be staying with me for a while.”
“Nice to meet you, Carolina.” The older woman didn’t just shake hands, she hugged her before stepping back, laughing. “I take it you’re not from around here.”
She warmed to Matt’s aunt as well. “No, Ma’am. I’m from Florida. Miami.”
“Gracious. Coming all the way from Miami. My husband and I once took the kids to Disney World. We never made it all the way down to Miami. No, I take it back. We did take a cruise from the port, but we didn’t get out to see the city.”
“Maybe someday you’ll come and visit.” Carolina noticed that Becca went back to watching Matt’s every movement.
“One never knows,” his aunt agreed. “I’d better finish up.” She pulled two straight pins from her shirtsleeve, put them into her mouth and bit down.
Becca touched Matt’s arm. “I was thinking the guest suite at the far end of the house.”
“The yellow corner,” Shawna chimed in, walking back toward the hall. “It’s off the pool and has a private garden and sitting area. A favorite for guests.”
It sounded divine if this were a spa, Carolina thought. But why did Becca and his aunt take the position of ladies of the house?
Matt shrugged. “Yeah, that’ll due.”
“Just follow me,” Becca said breezily.
“Becca, go on. We’ll catch up.” Matt reached out to stall Carolina. “I thought we’d stop here and get your things put away then decide what to do. I didn’t realize anyone would be here.”
“Hey, you don’t have to explain.”
“But I want to—”
“Matt, did you want me to stick around? Do anything for ya?” Becca interrupted from down the hall.
Carolina gl
anced at the other woman, then back at Matt. For a man who seemed hellbent on finding out answers to his dwindling cattle, he also had secrets that he held back. Something was going on here, and she intended on figuring out what it was, sooner than later. “Cowboy, I can take care of myself. I don’t need a handler.”
Chapter Fourteen
A handler! Is that what Carolina believed Becca and his aunt were. If only there was that level of sophistication at work. This was just great. Another perfect screw-up.
They all carried her luggage and bags into the guest suite. This was not where he wanted Carolina to spend her nights.
“Are we joining your parents for dinner?” Carolina asked.
He glanced over at Becca and frowned. Why was she staring at him like that? “Becca, we’re fine. Aunt Shawna probably needs your help.”
She nodded and smiled. “Right. Holler if ya need anything.”
He returned his focus on Carolina. “If that’s what you’d like to do, we can. It’s up to you.” If only he could press replay.
How far had they traveled from his office desk? From kissing and on fire to separate quarters in his own house. Un-fucking-believable.
“I think the better your father knows me, the easier it will be to hear the news we might be forced to deliver.” Carolina’s gaze tore into him, convincing him his plans were about to dissolve.
Guess this was business as usual for Dr. Rodriguez. Not him. He wanted to punch the wall. From being on the verge of mind-blowing sex to finding out that she was coming out of a relationship. He should be overjoyed that they were laying the ground rules so nobody got hurt.
Except he’d been there and done that until he’d gotten blindsided by a lie. By the fact that people who tended to like rules when it came to relationships, had an agenda.
Footloose meant no rules.
Everything Carolina had said, or rather inferred, blared in his mind. With any other woman, flexible and no strings would have sounded ideal. Short-term. No joke. Two weeks had an endpoint.
“You’re right. My dad’s a regular team of one and if we want him to open up, more is better.” Matt scrubbed his palm over his jaw, slowly grinding his teeth. The smell of Carolina’s floral fragrance filled his head, sending him into overdrive, and ready to curl his fingers around her wrist. He’d like nothing better than to show her to his bedroom. Then he’d finish what they started.
“Your family, they’re all more than curious about us. Should I hold some sort of information session?”
It was as though the oxygen in the room had been depleted. “Ignore what just happened,” he growled.
“Is that your answer to everything,” Carolina replied.
At the moment it was, but hell would freeze over before he admitted it. “Not exactly.” He sent a text to his father, jabbing each key as though his phone was the enemy. Within the room, Carolina’s provocative perfume not only invaded his head, it held him captive. Christ, he walked to the windows, feet away from her just to finish typing a text.
After he hit send, he pivoted and boom. He stared into Carolina’s stormy eyes.
“If you’ve got a question, just ask.” His cell chimed, interrupting their conversation from the look on Carolina’s face.
“You’d better get it,” she said, confirming they were going nowhere fast.
On the screen, he read the message. “Sounds good. I’ll relay to your momma.”
“My father sent a message that dinner is a go,” Matt softened his voice. Carolina’s expression changed. Her brows drew together. Perhaps from some question she didn’t articulate. Since when had talking become hard for them? Matt tried to focus his thoughts in ten directions at once and found that worked like a three-legged horse at a rodeo. Losing ground, he offered up, “Do you want to change for dinner?”
“Yes. Give me five minutes.”
“I want to get one thing straight about your odd reference about an info session. I tried to warn you about my family and their overzealous interest.”
Carolina frowned and he silently prompted her to say what was on her beautiful mind. Some fracture in this sludge pit of where they found themselves.
“But it’s odd,” she stammered. “I mean it’s more than odd, it’s downright strange.”
Hearing her say that lit him back up. “Welcome to Texas, darlin’,” he drawled.
Their gazes locked and after a beat, neither of them did more than stare. They were at an impasse—one of his own making.
But he wasn’t about to apologize that his family’s ability to overstep bounds could off put most folks. Could cause a woman to downplay the reality of her married existence, to the detriment of himself! But he couldn’t change history or sever his ties to his family any more than he could stop the orbit of the planets. They were who they were and he was who he was. And here was Carolina, a breath of fresh air.
“That isn’t an answer. You’re trying to sidestep what I’m asking. Again, McLemore. I never took you for a man who played it like that.”
“Yeah well, I wouldn’t think it mattered. No strings and short-term doesn’t involve a heart-to-heart. Wouldn’t that, in fact, crimp your style? Obviously, you won’t let this go, like you don’t let anything go. Fine, sue me but I’ve let my mother deal with taking care of arranging for housecleaning services, as well as hiring aunts and cousins for interior decoration. I’m not good with any of that sort of thing. I want the house cleaned, outfitted, and to be left alone. I rarely cross paths with Becca or my aunt unless it’s at a family dinner or get-together.”
“Heads-up, cowboy. Do you know that Becca is in love with you?”
That was the last straw. “Do you think I’m that much of a moron to screw the person who has access to my home?”
“Oh, so you distinguish among employees. Should I be flattered or insulted?”
“That depends. Is driving me crazy your intent or something you do to every man you meet? When you’re ready, meet me in the living room, Dr. Rodriguez.”
“Don’t you mean pretend girlfriend?” she sassed.
Before he really got going, Matt swung around and headed out of the room. For the next fifteen minutes, he paced, vacillating between his desire to return to Carolina and throw her down on the bed. And taking a very, extremely cold shower.
When she appeared wearing a dress and heels, he almost barked out a laugh. Was she trying to break him! They drove the short distance in silence; not that he ignored Carolina in his peripheral vision. She was beautiful with her hair pulled up and pinned in place. He parked, got her door, and they mounted the porch steps without words.
Coming into the front hall, the strains of Merle Haggard’s fiddle pulled them toward the living room. This time, they weren’t hand-in-hand.
“Vinyl?” Carolina asked his father who held an album cover.
His dad asked, “Are you a fan?”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “I have a Jensen turntable. It belonged to my dad.”
That was the perfect ice-breaker when it came to Wade McLemore. Only outmatched if Carolina knew an iota about the old-time greats of country Western music.
Since dinner would be served soon, Matt wanted to wash up and cool down. “I’ll be right back,” he said, turning on his heel. Actually, he wanted to slam his head against the wall until his mind stopped turning tail and leading him down some maze toward a safe solitary bed. He stomped down the hall and his mother passed by him.
“Matt, what’s wrong?”
“Not a thing,” he replied, as he forced a grin to shape his lips.
“Son, you’ll have to try harder, if that’s your best response. Just remember, the woman is always right. If you live by that one standard, you’ll always be a happy man. Know why?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Because when your woman is happy, you’ll be happy. Simple advice, son. Go apologize for whatever you’ve done. You’ll see.”
Chapter Fifteen
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Dinner had gone by in a blur. Carolina replied as if on auto pilot. This time it was just Sarah, Wade, Matt, and her. There was talk of a picnic tomorrow. Both she and Matt had agreed politely, but not coldly. They kept trading looks that made her face feel as if she were of victim of sunstroke. Once, Sarah even asked if she needed some aloe for her sunburn.
By nine o’clock they returned to his house. Matt escorted her to the guest room, then all but pushed her inside. He slammed the door behind her, not giving her the chance to say yes, no, or maybe go to hell. From inside the room, she heard the front door slam shut. She couldn’t see outside toward the front of the house but the scream of his tires peeling out of the drive was unmistakable.
Where was he going? The image of his housekeeper flooded Carolina’s thoughts. No way. Becca was so infatuated. No man with any sense would dabble in casual sex where the woman was hopelessly in love. She bet McLemore was clueless that the girl was hung up on him. On her way to the ranch, the Uber driver had passed the local bar. The McLemores lived outside what was truly a small town. Yet it contained a large bar and dance club for the local ranches. Only an idiot couldn’t connect the dots. If there was a stud about town, Matt fit the bill. As did all his single brothers, even Cory was a charmer.
Mr. McLemore in action could do a meet and greet in five, sweet-talking his way into any woman’s bed. Or heart? There had to be a line a mile long of breathless cowgirls angling for his attention.
She hadn’t meant to push Matt away by acting like he didn’t matter. Carolina wanted to smack her palm against her head. Hard! That was some plan she’d come up with. No rules. Short-term.
Dammit! Red-hot anger burst in her chest. Carolina picked up a brush and hurled it at the bed. Jesus, he made her so mad! She wanted to throw something else. Throw everything in the room right out the door. Hurl away her emotions! If only it were possible to siphon away frustration. She didn’t have anything or anyone to fight in front of her.
Double dammit!
Glaring about the room, she found herself staring at her suitcases. Well, at least she done one thing right. She’d brought a pair of trainers. The only way to vent her frustration involved a run. This ought to be the perfect place. The road from Matt’s house to the main drag was about a mile, at least. She could run it up and back; by then she ought to feel some relief.