One Night with His Rival

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One Night with His Rival Page 4

by Robyn Grady


  “Sure.” He shrugged. “Get up in the morning and get things done.”

  Spoken like someone who’d always had his shit together.

  “Did you know that some people struggle to even roll out of bed in the morning? And you need to look beyond the rationale of just being lazy.”

  “Look beyond it to what?”

  “Maybe past trauma, dysfunctional family, learned helplessness.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “You can learn to be helpless?”

  “Sure. It can happen if a person feels like they can’t stop the bad stuff from happening, so they just give up.”

  The same way Veda had wanted to give up after her mom had died. She wasn’t able to save the person she had loved most in the world. Worse, she had felt responsible for the accident. Constant feelings of worthlessness coupled with guilt had added up to a why the hell bother? mind-set.

  Ajax’s expression changed as his eyes searched hers. “There’s a whole lot more to you, isn’t there, Darnel?”

  “A few layers. Like most people.”

  The perfect Ajax comeback line might be, And I want to peel back every one, starting here, tonight. But there were parts of Veda no one would ever know. Not her father or Lanie. Not Veda’s Best Life Now clients or blog followers. And certainly not Ajax Rawson...family rival, player extraordinaire and proponent of an industry that she wished would disappear.

  As if he’d read her mind, Ajax’s jaw tightened and his chin kicked up. Then, rather than delivering a line, he did something that pulled the rug right out from under her feet. He took a measured step back, slipped both hands under his jacket and into his pants pockets. The body language was clear.

  Nothing more to say. Won’t hold you up.

  After a recalibrating moment, Veda got her rubbery mouth to work. “Well, Ajax...it was good to see you again.”

  “You, too, Veda. Take care. Stay well.”

  When he didn’t offer a platonic kiss on her cheek—when he only pushed his hands deeper into his pockets—she gave a definitive nod before climbing into her car. But she hadn’t started the engine before his face appeared inches away from her window.

  The nerves in Veda’s stomach knotted even tighter. Damn, she had to give it to this man. He’d waited until the very last minute, wanting to catch her completely off guard to ask if he could see her again.

  Channeling aloof, Veda pressed a button. As the window whirred down, she got ready for an extra-smooth delivery. But Ajax only pointed down the driveway.

  “Take it slow down the hill,” he said. “There’s a sharp bend near the office.”

  She blinked. “A bend?”

  “It’ll be wet after the rain.”

  When he stepped back again, Veda took a moment before winding the window back up, starting the car and driving away.

  So...

  Score, right?

  Rather than trying to charm or argue with her, Ajax had given her what she wanted. A cut-and-dried goodbye. And the bonus: she wasn’t the one receding in Ajax’s rearview mirror. He was receding in hers. In fact, watching his reflection now, she saw how he was literally walking away.

  Sighing, Veda settled in for the drive home—or tried to. After being so close to Ajax and his drugging scent, the car smelled stale, and following hours of music and conversation, the cabin was too quiet. Veda flicked on the radio, but she only heard that song playing in her head...the one she and Ajax had danced to all of ten minutes ago.

  She shook herself. Thought ahead.

  In thirty minutes, she would be turning into the Darnel driveway. She would find her father reclined in his tufted high-backed chair by an unlit fire. After inquiring about her evening, he would calmly regurgitate how he felt about his daughter consorting with the enemy. The Rawsons were cheats who would have their comeuppance. Drake never tired of admitting that he couldn’t wait for the day.

  Veda sat forward and looked up. Raindrops were falling again, big and hard on the windshield. She switched on the wipers, imagining her father’s reaction should he ever discover the truth. Not only was his daughter friends with a Rawson, she had also—shock, horror!—slept with one. In his chilling way, Drake would let her know his verdict. She was no better than the woman he had loved or the woman he had married. To his mind, both had betrayed him with a cowboy. Then her father would disown his daughter, the same way he had disowned his wife. And there wouldn’t be a thing she could do about it.

  You are dead to me.

  Dead. Dead. Dead.

  Suddenly that tricky bend was right there in front of her. About to overshoot, Veda wrenched the wheel, slammed on the brake. As her tires slid out, she pulled the wheel the other way and the SUV overcorrected. A surreal moment later, it came to a jolting stop on the grass shoulder, at right angles to a heavy railed fence and the sweeping river of asphalt.

  With those wipers beating endlessly back and forth, Veda white-knuckled the wheel, cursing her inattention. Her stupidity. But thankfully, she hadn’t crashed. There was nothing that couldn’t be undone. So pull up your big-girl panties and get back on the road! And she would...as soon as she’d dealt with the tsunami of déjà vu rolling in.

  Mom sitting in the front seat of a growling pickup truck. Her cowboy boyfriend looking over his shoulder at Veda in back. A terrifying screech. A crashing, blinding jolt—

  When her ears started to ring, Veda pushed open her door and scrambled out.

  There were plenty of motels around. Or maybe she should simply drive on through to Jersey. She was under no obligation to see her father tonight. Damn it, her only obligation was to herself.

  Not my fault, not my fault, not my fault.

  At that moment, just as the skies opened up in earnest, a pair of big hands clamped down on her shoulders and spun her around. With hair whipping over her eyes, it took a moment to recognize the masculine figure, and then the concerned face streaming with rain.

  Ajax raised his voice over the downpour. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Veda thought about it and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  His brows snapped together before he threw open the back car door and waved an arm.

  Get in.

  The next second, he was behind the wheel, getting the vehicle back onto the driveway before turning, not toward the house or the main road, but into an offshoot lane. A moment later, they’d pulled up outside a building. After helping Veda out, he handed over her evening clutch from the front passenger seat and led the way to the building’s main entrance.

  Soaked through, her soles sliding in their heels, she asked over the noise of the rain, “Where are we?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  And yet, as Ajax punched numbers into a control pad by the door, the sign mounted next to it seemed to both mock and warn her.

  Rawson Studs.

  Satisfaction guaranteed.

  Four

  Entering the office reception area and flicking on the lights, Ajax was torn between a slump of relief and thinking, what the hell?

  So much for carrying Veda over those puddles earlier. Now her hair and dress were drenched. Worse—and no surprise—she was visibly shaken. He could practically hear her teeth chattering. Had she been playing with her phone or simply off with the fairies when she’d overrun that bend? The bend he’d specifically told her to watch out for.

  With Veda close behind, he strode down the corridor, past some other offices and into his private office suite—his home away from home. Running a hand through his dripping hair, he took it down a notch. And then two. The last thing she needed was a grilling. Far better that he shake it off.

  “I vote scotch,” he said, making a beeline for the wet bar and pouring two stiff ones. But when he brought hers over, Veda’s nostrils flared like he was offering week-old hog feed.

  “I don’t drink hard li
quor,” she said.

  “Fine.” He lifted the glass and tossed it back. “Bottoms up.”

  After the heat hit his gut, Ajax found the bar again. “I’ll get you a wine.”

  “Just water,” she said. “Although... I’ve probably had enough of that for one night.”

  Enough water? Because of the rain and almost killing herself? But he didn’t laugh.

  Despite dancing together and their too-hot-to-ignore connection, by the time he’d escorted—no, literally carried—her to her vehicle, he’d made a decision. If Veda really wanted him to take a hike, he would comply, at least for now. So he had played nice and said good-night. Thank God he turned back around when he did. Seeing her almost take out that fence had scared the living daylights out of him. Veda must have gotten the fright of her life.

  But now as she accepted the tumbler of water, he noticed her hands had stopped shaking. After taking a long sip, she let her head rock back and eased out a breath.

  “I’m sorry, Ajax,” she said, looking so vulnerable and bedraggled and all the more beautiful because of it.

  With the tightness easing in his chest, he hitched up a shoulder and swirled his drink. “Ah, you’re not hurt. That’s what matters.”

  “I’ll get out of your hair as soon as the rain stops. Promise. I don’t want to hold you up.”

  Veda wasn’t an inconvenience. He wished she’d just relax. That was sure as hell what he intended to do.

  She pushed aside the wet hair clinging to her cheek and neck. “Do you mind if I take my shoes off?”

  “Be my guest.”

  While she sat down on the couch to slip off her heels, Ajax shed his jacket and plucked at his soaked shirt.

  “I need to change.” He considered her soggy dress. “I can offer you a towel and a clean shirt.”

  Getting to her bare feet, she held up the waterlogged hem of her dress. “I’ll take it.”

  Ajax slipped into the attached private suite where he spent most nights, and grabbed a freshly pressed shirt from the walk-in closet next to the bed. Back in the main area, he held the button-down out to Veda.

  “How’s this?”

  “It’s dry—so, perfect.”

  He pointed her to a guest bathroom with plenty of towels. As soon as she disappeared behind the door, he headed for his room again, ripping his shirt off as he went. After ditching everything else in a corner—shoes, socks, pants—he towel-dried his hair in the attached bathroom, then found a pair of drawstring pants. That’s when his phone sounded in the next room. He recognized the ringtone.

  Griff.

  Hopping as he slotted each leg into the pants, he recovered the phone from his jacket’s inside pocket.

  “Your lights are on,” Griff said when Ajax connected. “Want company? I have some stuff to unpack.”

  Glancing toward the guest bathroom, Ajax lowered his voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “Not so much outright wrong as possibly troubling.”

  “To do with family or business?”

  “Both. I’ll come down and we’ll hash it out.”

  Ajax grasped for an excuse. “It’s raining.”

  Silence on the other end of the line ended with a grunt.

  “Okay. Got it. You have someone squirreled away with you down there.”

  Ajax was shaking his head. “Not what you think.”

  “Bro, you don’t need to play Boy Scout with me.”

  “She had a little accident going down.”

  Griff cleared his throat. “Okay. Not touching that one.”

  “Going down the entrance road. Her car skidded out.”

  Griff’s tone changed. “Is she all right?”

  “Shaken, but otherwise fine.”

  “I’d ask if there was anything I can do but I’m sure you’ve got it in hand. Or she has.”

  He and Griff were of a similar mind where the opposite sex was concerned. Unlike their brother Jacob, who had recently found the girl of his dreams, neither Ajax nor Griff was ready to settle down. They dated freely and widely and, more often than not, were with women who shared the same philosophy.

  Given what Lanie had said earlier, and Veda’s comments about men with reputations, his current guest did not subscribe to that particular point of view, which didn’t gel with her enthusiasm in Saratoga, but whatever.

  Absently pulling the string on his pants tighter, Ajax said again, “Griff, this is not a hookup.”

  “So you two definitely won’t end up naked together tonight.”

  Ajax looked down at his bare chest at the same time he imagined Veda’s dress puddled on that bathroom floor as Griff went on. “Look, we’ll catch up over breakfast. You ought to bring her along.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Manners? Food?”

  “Veda won’t be here in the morning.”

  Even if he and Veda did spend the night together—say, she curled up on a couch, shut her eyes and fell dead asleep—neither would want that kind of morning-after scrutiny. Yes, they were adults who were more than capable of making adult decisions. But after that “eyes and hands off” talk, Princess Lanie would blow a gasket if he walked into the house with her bestie hanging off his arm. And Veda had that thing going on in her head about Hux—the story where he was supposed to have stolen Drake’s future bride. As if.

  “Wait a minute,” Griff said. “Did you say Veda? As in Darnel’s daughter?”

  Ajax groaned. “Don’t tell me you’ve got problems with that, too?”

  “I, uh...” Griff exhaled. “Jax, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

  Ajax was signing off when the guest bathroom door fanned open. As Veda stepped out, every cell in his body stood to attention. The button-down shirt she wore was ten sizes too big, her towel-dried hair was a flaming mess, and what he could see of her legs made his mouth water. The unconscious way she used both hands to push back all that hair told him she felt more relaxed. Then she stopped, her eyes grew to saucers, and Ajax remembered.

  She was the only one wearing a shirt.

  He’d swear on the Bible that was not intentional.

  “I, uh, got caught up on a call,” he said, waving the phone.

  Veda’s gaze slid up from his chest.

  “It was Griff,” he said. “My brother. He saw the lights on here, so I filled him in.”

  “As in, I’m an idiot?”

  “As in we need reflector lights on that curve.”

  When her eyes dipped to his chest again, Ajax reevaluated his position. He definitely had not brought Veda here to seduce her. Before his phone had rung, he’d had every intention of slipping on a T-shirt. But now he got the distinct impression that Veda wasn’t about to freak at his lack of clothing. Hell, she’d seen him in way less than this.

  Veda was crossing over to his desk. He’d left his hat by a stack of papers. Now she ran a finger around the black brim, then sent a bland glance his way.

  “Every cowboy needs one.”

  “At least one. That particular hat’s for dressing up.” Like for meetings, events. He nodded at another Stetson on a vintage hat stand. “That one’s for work.” For when he was hands-on in the stables with the horses and his team.

  She picked up the formal hat and sussed out its lines as he wandered over.

  “I reckon it’d suit you,” he said.

  “Pretty sure you’re wrong.”

  He took the hat, but when he placed it on her head, the brim fell low enough to cover her nose. He saw her grin before repositioning the inner band so that it was propped against the front of her crown.

  “There now,” he said. “Not too big at all.”

  “All I need is a set of spurs and a big ol’ buckle on my belt—”

  The hat slipped again. As she caught it and pushed it back u
p, he angled her around toward some mirrored wall tiles. Setting her hands on her hips, she struck an Annie Oakley pose, then pulled a face.

  “Yeah, nah.” She lifted the hat off her head as she turned back around. “Bend down.”

  She set the Stetson square on his head, then stepped back to inspect her work. As she took him in from top to tail, her grin changed from light and playful to we’re having too much fun here.

  Putting her weight on one leg, she crossed her arms. “Your other hat’s black, too.”

  “Yep. All of them from day one.”

  “Which was...?”

  “When did I get my first real cowboy hat?” He scratched his temple under the brim. “I can’t remember ever being without one.” When her lips twitched, like he’d said something funny, he frowned. “What’s the joke?”

  “It’s just...at the risk of inflating your ego, you look like you ought to be on a billboard right now.”

  He flicked a glance up at the brim. “You like the hat that much?”

  “I like the overall picture. Who wouldn’t?” She seemed to gather herself, adjusting the oversize shirt’s collar, before assuming an indifferent expression. “Just an observation.”

  Ajax’s smile grew. “An observation, huh?”

  “The hat, the smile. You know...” She fluttered her hands at his chest.

  Chewing his inner lip, Ajax grinned more.

  “I think you’re flirting with me,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. “I am not.”

  “You definitely are, and you know it.”

  “Ajax, I’ve never said you weren’t sexy.”

  “Double negative, but go on.”

  “That’s it.” She glanced at his chest again, then, just as fast, looked away. “You can stop fishing for compliments.”

  “Well, I have something to say.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “You seem okay now. After that incident in your car.”

  “I am. Thanks again.”

 

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