by Katie Lane
He brushed a tear from her cheek. “Forever.”
“Oh, Holden.” She hugged him close. “I love you too. I should have known sooner. I just kept thinking that it was only physical attraction.”
“So you’re saying that you don’t just want me for my body?”
She drew back, her expression endearingly serious. “No. I still want your body, but my feelings are so much more than sexual. While you make me feel like it’s my perpetual mating season, you also make my heart feel . . . full. When before it felt like it was half empty.” Her cheeks turned a rosy pink. “That probably sounds silly.”
“Nope. Because my heart feels the same way.”
A smile lit her face. A smile he wanted to keep there for the rest of their lives. And he felt immediately concerned when it suddenly faded. “I might have to move away from Houston.”
“Your family fired you?”
“No, I’m quitting. Being a geoscientist doesn’t make me happy—something you helped me realize. I want to help discover alternate energy resources that don’t have such a big impact on the environment.”
His heart got a little fuller as he realized what an amazing woman he had fallen in love with. If she was courageous enough to make a career change, so was he. His mother was right. He had been trying to hide his grief in work. While he liked helping people who couldn’t afford legal advice, he no longer wanted to spend all of his life doing it.
He pulled her closer. “You know there’s nothing holding me in Houston.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m willing to move wherever you decide to live.”
“You want to live with me?”
“Actually, I want to marry you. But if you’re not ready for that, we can just live together. As long as I get to be with you, I’ll be happy.” He kissed her, something he’d been wanting to do since stepping on the porch. One kiss melted into another before she drew away and spoke in a breathy whisper.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He took another sip of her lips.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He leaned back. “You will? When?”
“As soon as you want—”
He didn’t even let her finish before he scooped her up in his arms and headed down the porch steps.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To the town hall to get our marriage license.”
He thought she would protest. Instead, she hooked her arms around his neck and laughed. “What happened to the man who wasn’t ever going to get married?”
“He fell head over heels in love.”
“No heels,” she said as she kissed him. “It’s only boots from now on.”##
It turned out that they couldn’t get married right away. After they got their license, state laws dictated they had to wait three days. Which gave Devlin’s mother time to talk Holden into letting her plan a small wedding with just close family and friends. Devlin tried to warn him that her mother never did anything small, but her mom had completely won him over with her infectious smile and big hugs.
In fact, Devlin’s entire family had won Holden over and he had won them over. Her brothers treated him like an old college buddy. Her father treated him like a long-lost son. And her mother hadn’t stopped crying with joy since she got to Simple.
“I just can’t believe my baby’s getting married.” Her mother sniffed as she adjusted Devlin’s veil. “But I wish you had told me sooner about falling in love with Holden. Marilyn said she’s known for weeks. And then you went and picked out your wedding dress with her.”
Devlin glanced in the mirror at the dress that had come in the mail just that morning. It fit perfectly and hadn’t needed any alterations. “Marilyn picked it out. I just okayed it. And I didn’t talk with her about being in love with Holden. She figured it out on her own.”
“That isn’t hard to figure out. Anyone with eyes can see you too adore each other. But I better be the first one to know when you’re pregnant. You are planning on having children, aren’t you?”
Devlin couldn’t keep the smile off her face. The night before, when Holden had snuck into her room at the boardinghouse, they’d talked about how many kids they would like to have. Holden wanted two while she wanted four. They settled on three . . . then set about getting started on the first one. She placed a hand on her stomach. Who knew? Maybe they had succeeded.
Although getting pregnant right now probably wasn’t the best idea. While Devlin waited to hear back from the résumés she’d sent out, she and Holden had decided to live in Simple. The only income they had coming in was from the legal jobs Holden took, and most of the townsfolk didn’t pay with money. In the last couple weeks, Holden had received pumpkin bread, canned okra, two live chickens, and a baby hound dog that had stolen both their hearts.
“It’s probably best if we wait to get pregnant until after I find a job,” she said.
“You already have a job.” Her father walked into the room. He looked tall and distinguished as ever in his dress suit and power tie. “Just because the test drill you ran on Holden’s land came up dry that doesn’t mean you need to quit the family business.”
“The test drill you ran. I wasn’t the one who talked Holden into drilling.”
“If there was oil, it would’ve been stupid to leave it.”
She frowned. She really thought she had it right this time, but regardless of what the soil samples said, they hadn’t found one drop of oil. “I don’t know where I went wrong with my calculations. The satellite images all pointed to—”
“Enough talk about oil,” her mother cut in. “I won’t have business talk on your wedding day.”
“I just want my daughter to understand that she’d not quitting the family business.” Her father sent her a stern look. “If you feel that strongly about this alternative energy nonsense, then I guess we can spare the money for you to set up a research lab here in Simple.”
Devlin stared at her father. “Here in Simple? Really, Dad?”
He nodded. “I don’t know why you want to live in such a small town, but you seem to have made some friends here. I just spent an hour getting my butt chewed out by your soon-to-be husband for not making my daughter feel like she has worth.” He frowned. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, Baby Girl.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Dad. I should’ve spoken up much sooner about being unhappy with my job. I just wanted to make you proud of me. But now I realize that you and Mom have always been proud of me and supported me in whatever I wanted to do.”
His gaze took her in from head to toe. “And I’m sure proud right at this moment. You look as beautiful as your mother did on our wedding day.” Which made her mother start to cry.
“Well, no wonder you’re a watering pot. You come by it naturally.” Miss Gertie rolled into the garden room of the boardinghouse and pulled a tissue out of the sleeve of her dress and handed it to Devlin’s mother. “Now if you’re done whining, we need to get this show on the road.” She turned to Reba, Evie, and Penny who had followed her into the room. “Open the doors, Reba.”
While Reba hurried to open the French doors that led into the garden, Miss Gertie looked at Devlin. “Are you sure you want a Double Diamond boy?”
Devlin smiled. “Positive.”
Miss Gertie only shook her head before she herded Devlin’s mother out the door with her walker. Evie and Reba, who had agreed to serve as her bridesmaids, followed behind them, while Penny, who had agreed to be her matron of honor, gave her a quick hug.
“Now we’ll not only be friends, but you, Evie, and I will also be Double Diamond sisters.”
Devlin had never had a sister. Now she had two. When she stepped out into the Dixon Boardinghouse garden with her father, she realized that sisters weren’t all she’d acquired since coming to Simple.
The once friendless woman now had an entire town of friends.
Tears blurred her vision and she trippe
d twice going down the aisle, but she was too happy to care. When she reached the altar, Val handed Holden his handkerchief and Holden held her chin in his hand and gently wiped away her tears.
“I hope these are happy tears,” he said.
She nodded. “I didn’t even realize there was such a thing until you.”
“Ain’t that sweet.” Luanne’s voice rang out from the first row. “Did you know I’m responsible for getting these two together? If it wasn’t for the Luanne makeover, Holden never would’ve fallen under her spell.”
Everyone laughed, except Holden. His eyes were serious as he studied Devlin. “She’s right, you know. I am under your spell. And I intend to stay spellbound for the rest of my life.”
He kissed her, and Devlin realized that her instincts hadn’t failed her. She might not have struck oil, but she’d struck something better.
She’d struck love.
* * *
The End
Sneak Peek!
Here’s a Sneak Peek of the next Texas Bad Boy!
Taming a Texas Heartbreaker
will be out in June!
Taming a Texas Heartbreaker
She despised him.
She despised the superior tone of his voice when he instructed her on when she could clean his room, what foods she could fix him to eat, and what hours he did NOT want to be disturbed. She despised the way he walked around her garden as if he owned it and how his mahogany brown hair defied the strong Texas winds and always fell neatly back into its styled perfection. She despised his tall, lean body without an ounce of fat on it and the black he always wore that made him look like a villainous gunslinger in an old western. Even his underwear was black—something she knew because she washed and folded them every week.
But mostly, she despised the way his topaz gaze seemed to sizzle right through her and make her feel like the most inept person on the face of the planet.
And inept was not a word anyone in Simple, Texas, had ever used to describe Reba Dixon. She might not be pretty. She sure wasn’t skinny. But she was smart, determined, and competent. Her daddy always said she was the definition of a multi-tasker. And she wasn’t about to let some arrogant writer of psychological thrillers make her feel like she was beneath him. She might not have a lot of money or a big fancy job. But she was a savvy businesswoman who ran a successful hotel.
Or maybe not successful, but one that was getting by.
Barely.
Which was the main reason she hadn’t already told Valentine Sterling where he could shove his constant complaints. Every time she carried up his breakfast or supper tray, he had a new one.
“Good morning, Ms. Dixon. I hope my poached egg isn’t as overcooked as yesterday.”
“Good evening, Ms. Dixon. Do you understand what lightly starched means?”
“Good morning, Ms. Dixon. Do you always sing while you garden? Perhaps you could save it for the shower. It’s extremely distracting while I’m trying to write.”
“Good evening, Ms. Dixon. You’re three minutes late.”
After he’d complained about one thing or another, he would pause as if waiting for her to reply. Almost as if daring her to tell him off and kick his arrogant butt out of her boardinghouse. Oh, how she wanted to. The best day of her life would be when Valentine Sterling’s nice behind headed down the steps of the front porch for the last time. Reba planned to pop open the bottle of champagne she always kept on hand for boarders’ special occasions and celebrate.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to prompt Mr. Sterling to leave. Not when he had a huge following on social media and all it would take was one tweet saying how poorly he’d been treated at the Dixon Boardinghouse for Reba to lose much needed business. She had worked too damn hard in the last two years since her parents gave her their share in the boardinghouse to let it all do down the drain because she couldn’t control her Irish-Cherokee temper.
The boardinghouse wasn’t just a hotel. It was her life.
She had grown up in the big, sprawling plantation-style house. She had broken her arm sliding down the polished mahogany bannister. Played Gone with the Wind with her best friend, Evie Gardener, on the wide wraparound porch. Learned how to cook all the family recipes from her grandmother in the homey kitchen. Hunted for the ghost of her great-great-great-great grandmother in the flower garden. And tried not to tick off her great-aunt Gertie.
Something Reba seemed to do anyway.
“Reba!” Her aunt’s crotchety voice rang out from the direction of the dining room.
While Reba’s family had lived in the caretaker’s cottage behind the boardinghouse, and Reba still did, Aunt Gertie lived in the same room of the boardinghouse since she’d been born. And she intended to die in that room. Something that wasn’t far off. While Aunt Gertie refused to give the exact date of her birth, the family estimated that she was at least ninety. Watching out for her ninety-year-old aunt was just one more thing on Reba’s long list of responsibilities.
Leaving the egg she’d been poaching in the water, she hurried out of the kitchen and almost plowed right over her frail aunt. Reba quickly sidestepped, but her hip bumped her aunt’s hot pink walker, sending it clattering to the floor. Luckily, the hairless Sphynx cat sitting in the attached basket jumped clear.
“How many times do I have to tell you to slow down, Reba Gertrude Dixon?” Aunt Gertie snapped.
“Sorry.” Reba righted the walker, and then tried to give Rhett Butler an apologetic head scratch. But the cat didn’t “give a damn” about anyone but his owner and hissed at Reba before jumping back in his basket. “Why you ornery thing.” She glared at the cat. “That’s the last time I give you tuna.”
“Now don’t be gettin’ mad at Butler. You were the one who was running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”
“Because you were hollering to beat the band and I was worried you’d fallen again.”
Aunt Gertie stroked Butler’s head. “I haven’t fallen for months and that was only because someone kicked up the edge of that rug in the hallway and tripped me up.”
“If you’d had your walker, you wouldn’t have fallen.”
Aunt Gertie scowled. “You’re just like your mama. The woman loves to remind people of their mistakes. She hasn’t shut up about your daddy investing in those lamps that turned on when you whistled—darn fool didn’t even consider that some folks can’t whistle to save their souls. And she’s still disappointed that you didn’t marry that college handyman she tried to match you up with.”
“Well, she shouldn’t be. Billy Bob and I only went out a few times. Neither one of us were interested in getting married.” It was a lie. Like her mama, she’d had big hopes for Billy Bob. He just hadn’t had any hopes with her beyond sex. “Now I better check the chocolate chip cookies I’m baking for book club tonight.” And His-Royal-Pain-in-Her-Butt’s poached egg. Unfortunately, by the time she hurried back into the kitchen and pulled the egg out of the water with the slotted spoon, the yolk looked like a yellow Ping-Pong ball.
“Damn.” She glanced at the clock on the stove. She had exactly four minutes to make another egg and get the tray to his room. She quickly cracked an egg and carefully released it into the hot water.
“What in tarnation are you making?” Aunt Gertie asked.
Not realizing her aunt had followed her, she jumped and dropped the eggshell on the floor. “Geez, Aunt Gertie. I thought you had gone back to your room.”
“Why would I go back to my room when I didn’t talk to you about what I came to talk to you about? And answer the question. What are you doing?”
“I’m poaching an egg.” Reba picked up the eggshell and tossed it in the trash, then checked on the cookies in the oven. They were flatter than pancakes and she wondered what ingredient she’d forgotten to add this time. She was always leaving something out when baking. Baking soda. Baking powder. Eggs. Vanilla. She forgot to add ingredients while cooking too, but she could usually catch her mistake by a
taste test and add them later. Baking wasn’t that forgiving. Hopefully, her friends at book club would be. She didn’t have time to make another batch. She pulled the cookies out of the oven and transferred them to a cooling rack.
“Why are you poaching eggs when breakfast was hours ago?” Aunt Gertie asked.
“I was hungry for a poached egg,” she lied.
Aunt Gertie knew nothing about the breakfast and dinner trays that Reba had been taking to the garden room. Nor did she know about Reba doing Mr. Sterling’s laundry, or taking his dress pants to be dry-cleaned, or ironing his shirts. If her aunt did find out Reba had become Mr. Sterling’s personal servant, all hell would break loose. Aunt Gertie didn’t just think women were equal to men. She thought they were better. Which probably explained why she had never been married.
“I’ve never seen you eat a poached egg in your life,” Aunt Gertie said.
“Well, I love them.” To prove it, she popped the rubbery egg into her mouth. The texture was so disgusting that she gagged and hurried over to the sink to spit it out. When she turned, Aunt Gertie was giving her a squinty-eyed look. And so was Butler.
“I didn’t pay much attention to your mama when she called a few months back and told me she was worried about you working too much,” Aunt Gertie said. “But lately, I’ve started to wonder if maybe she ain’t right.”
“Please don’t tell me that mama is on her ‘Reba needs to find herself a husband’ kick again.”
“No. I think she and the rest of the family has accepted the fact that no man will have you.”
“Aunt Gertie!”
“What? I’m just statin’ a fact, girl. Very few men want a strong, intelligent woman who won’t put up with their shenanigans. They want some weak-minded ninny who spends her days dieting, doing her nails, and waiting on them hand and foot. Finding a man who values a good woman is almost impossible. Especially when that woman spends all her time working.”
She went back to putting the cookies on the cooling rack. “You’ve proven that women don’t need men to be successful and happy, Aunt Gertie.”