Ultimate Texas Bachelor

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Why had he gone in the next day, clad not in the tux he was supposed to be wearing, but a pair of jeans and a Western shirt, stuck his hands in his pockets and told her, “You know what? This isn’t working out. So what do you say you and I just do ourselves a favor and call it quits here and now?”

  Yvonne—wearing a beautiful evening gown—gasped and broke into tears.

  Brad turned and walked out.

  The camera cut back to Yvonne, and her gasping, wrenching sobs.

  Frowning because once again it seemed like Brad was a real cad, and not the quick-witted, warmhearted man she was getting to know, Lainey went back to the menu and clicked on the last episode of the series of shows featuring Brad. Brad and Yvonne were seated with the show host, discussing what had not happened during the final “ceremony.”

  Yvonne was tearful and obviously hurt by the fact Brad hadn’t asked her to marry him. Brad didn’t care. He was alternately ignoring or glaring at Yvonne as they “discussed”—or, to put it more aptly, didn’t discuss—the situation. His anger was subtle, but there nevertheless.

  Obviously, Lainey concluded as she watched it over and over again, Yvonne had done or said something to really anger Brad. Maybe not in front of the cameras, but away from them. The question was, what?

  Chapter Six

  “Mommy, look!” Petey ran into the upstairs hall, where Lainey was organizing the linen closet early the next morning. Bypassing the snap-together building block set he had been playing with, he took her by the hand and dragged her to the window. Out in the yard, Brad was backing his pickup, and the livestock trailer behind it, toward the pasture gate.

  “You think he’s got another horse in there?” Petey asked.

  Lainey hadn’t seen such pure excitement on her son’s face in a long time. She put her arm around his shoulders. “I don’t know, honey.”

  “Can we go see? Please, Mommy!”

  “All right.” Lainey smiled. “But on one condition. We have to make sure we don’t get in the way, so I want you to stay right by my side.”

  Petey nodded eagerly, already latching on to her hand. “I will, I promise.”

  By the time they reached the yard, Brad was out of the pickup and opening the rear doors of the trailer, which were situated inside the fence. “Whoa, there!” Brad said. “No. This way. Come on, fella. That’s it. Right this way….”

  Seconds later, a large rust-colored bull with horns at least four feet wide came lumbering down the ramp and onto the pasture grass. Brad followed, apparently unafraid, as the bull hit the ground and kept right on going, out onto the pasture. When he reached the watering hole in the center of it, he bent his head and began to drink.

  Brad closed up the rear of the trailer, got back in the truck and moved it forward enough that he could go back and close and latch the gate.

  As soon as that was done, Petey broke away from Lainey and ran toward Brad. “Wow!” Petey said. “Is that a real cow?”

  Brad grinned. “It’s a bull, Petey. And his name is Tabasco Red.”

  It also weighed a good thousand pounds. Lainey had only to look at her inquisitive little boy’s face to know what he was thinking. “You aren’t to go near him, Petey.”

  Petey frowned, disappointed and upset. “But Brad went near him,” he complained.

  “Brad is a grown-up. When you’re a man, you can go near bulls, too. Not until then,” Lainey said firmly.

  Brad looked at Lainey. He appeared ready to differ with her. She sent him a look, letting him know that would not be wise. He remained blessedly silent.

  “Are you going to get more bulls?” Petey asked.

  “We’ve got twenty virgin heifers being delivered tomorrow,” Brad told her son matter-of-factly.

  “What’s a virgin hecker?” Petey asked.

  It was all Lainey could do not to cringe and cover her face.

  “Heifer,” Brad repeated, seeing Lainey’s embarrassment and leaving out the “virgin” part this time. “And it’s a young female cow who has never had a baby cow—or calf,” Brad explained seriously.

  “Oh.” Petey mulled that over. “Are they going to be out in the same place?” He pointed to the pasture closest to the house, where Tabasco Red stood chewing on grass.

  “Not right away, no.”

  “Okay. That’s enough questions, Petey.” Lainey smiled, doing her best to pretend she wasn’t the least bit discomfited by the conversation. She made a show of looking at her watch. “It’s almost nine o’clock.”

  Petey perked up. “Time to go to my play date?”

  “Yes,” Lainey said.

  Brad shot her an inquiring look.

  “I got invited to go to another ranch,” Petey informed Brad excitedly, “where there are two boys almost my age. Kyle and Kurt McCabe. They’re supposed to be your cousins—I met ’em at the game company yesterday. They were testing stuff, too.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Brad said, suitably impressed.

  “It’s going to be,” Petey told Brad. “They have a swimming pool and a basketball hoop.”

  “If you want, I can drop Petey off,” Brad said. “I’m on my way into town to buy feed, anyway. I’ll go right by there.”

  Lainey looked at Petey. “That okay with you?”

  Petey nodded. “Do we get to ride in the pickup?”

  Brad slapped his hand on Petey’s shoulder. “You bet!” The two swaggered off, side by side, with Petey doing his best to imitate his new hero.

  LAINEY HAD MOVED ON to Lewis’s bedroom when her cell phone rang, shortly after noon. She continued hanging up clothes with one hand even as she answered.

  “So, how’s the search coming?” Sybil asked, shifting into editor mode the moment hellos had been said. “Have you been able to talk to Brad McCabe yet?”

  “I’m working on it,” Lainey said, frowning as she looked at a suit of Lewis’s that would have been better suited to the Beatles, circa 1965. “I have to tell you, though, Brad McCabe is still in no mood to be interviewed.”

  “I assume you’re working on getting him to change his mind.”

  Not as hard as I should be, Lainey thought guiltily, aware if truth be told that she was more interested in getting to know the man he was now, than what had happened on Bachelor Bliss.

  “You’ve got a great opportunity here,” Sybil stressed.

  “I won’t blow it,” Lainey promised.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear,” Sybil countered cheerfully. “In the meantime, I’ve been using my contacts in the business to see what I could uncover, too.”

  “Got anything?” Lainey switched into reporter mode.

  “I just got off the phone with Yvonne Rathbone’s manager. Apparently, she’s been hired to do guest spots on two of the network’s dramas. The episodes are going to air early in the fall.” There was a rustle of paper on the other end. “I managed to get you a telephone interview with the producer who hired her. Call this number—” Sybil paused to read off a ten-digit number and extension, while Lainey wrote it down “—at precisely two o’clock Pacific time, and Rocco Talmadge will speak with you. Have your questions ready. Five minutes is all you’ve got.”

  Lainey was alone in the ranch house, working on Brad’s bedroom, when the time came to make the call. She perched on the edge of the bed, notepad of questions in hand. As promised, she was put right through to Rocco Talmadge, the producer who had hired Brad’s ex.

  “Were Yvonne Rathbone’s appearances on two network dramas part of the deal when she signed on to do Bachelor Bliss?” Lainey asked.

  “No. This was arranged after that stud broke her heart and the whole country fell in love with her.”

  “So, it’s just a publicity stunt, then, to attract viewers?”

  Rocco sighed. “Could have been. That’s what I figured it would be—if we hired her. But that was before she came in to do a screen test for us last week. Yvonne was just flat-out amazing. She nailed her dialogue and conjured up all the right emotions at j
ust the right time. She even had the camera work down, although I guess that’s not surprising given the fact she just spent six weeks filming Bachelor Bliss.”

  Lainey recalled Yvonne had been a copier sales rep before she quit to do reality TV. “Has Yvonne acted before?”

  “No. She’s just a natural, I guess.”

  Interesting, Lainey thought. Had Yvonne’s stellar “acting” ability somehow played into the breakup with Brad, his reasons for wanting to dump her, regardless of what was expected of him? “Do you think Yvonne will have other acting opportunities after this?”

  “If she manages the actual taping as well as the auditions? Absolutely! Listen, I’ve got to go. Thank the people at Personalities Magazine for mentioning this. It’s bound to boost our ratings.”

  Lainey knew a little free publicity never hurt. “No problem.”

  Still musing over what she had learned, Lainey cut the connection and put her phone back on her belt, just as a door slammed downstairs. Quickly, she put her notepad and phone into the deep slash pocket of her skirt and went back to hanging up jeans.

  Seconds later, Brad strode into the room. His hat was off and his shirt was unbuttoned to the waist. He seemed surprised to see her standing there.

  “What?” he said abruptly, looking her up and down. He took off his shirt and tossed it into the hamper Lainey had put in the adjoining bathroom.

  She blinked, unable to take her eyes off his broad shoulders and nicely muscled chest. The satiny smooth skin had been shaved when he was filming Bachelor Bliss. No more. The suntanned flesh was covered with sable-brown hair that spread across his pecs, and arrowed down past his navel to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans.

  “What do you mean—what?” she mocked.

  He strode closer, smelling like sweat and man. “Why do you have that look on your face?”

  The one that indicated her heart was racing, her knees were weak, and there was a fluttery, melting sensation in the middle of her tummy? Knowing it would irritate him, Lainey played dumb. “What look?”

  Brad’s brown eyes narrowed as he studied her intently. “I don’t know. Guilty, maybe?”

  Of course—since she was here under at least partly false pretenses. But unable to tell Brad any of that yet, Lainey shrugged. “I’m uncomfortable, definitely.”

  His brow furrowed. “Because?”

  “I was in here, in your bedroom, working, when you came striding in, tossing off clothes right and left.”

  “I wouldn’t call one shirt ‘clothes.’”

  Lainey ignored his joke. “I would. And I think I should be leaving now….” She started to step past, heart racing all the more.

  “Don’t you want to know why I’m undressing?” Brad called after her in the low, sexy voice that had broken so many bachelorettes’ hearts.

  She turned, discovering Brad had his boots, belt and socks off, too.

  “We’ve all been invited to Annie and Travis McCabe’s for dinner.” He disappeared into the bath, returned with a can of shaving cream in hand.

  What was it about a man in nothing but a pair of jeans, and whatever he had under them…? “Thanks for letting me know.” She folded her arms in front of her and watched as he spread lather over his face. “But I’m not sure I can go. I have an awful lot of work to do here.” And an awful lot of research and interviewing to do, too….

  Brad plucked his razor off the sink and began running that through the cream, disappearing from view from time to time to watch what he was doing in the mirror. “Petey will be awful disappointed if you don’t show up. He’s having a great time over there. I think he wanted to share the ranch with you.”

  Put like that…how could she say no? “Well, maybe for a little while.” She wanted her son to be happy as much as she wanted the truth about Brad and Yvonne and their Bachelor Bliss experience to be known.

  Brad rinsed his face and blotted it with a towel. “Be ready to go in an hour?”

  “No problem.” She edged toward the door, reluctant to leave, knowing she had no apparent reason to stay.

  “Something on your mind?” he asked curiously, moving with her.

  Damn him for being so intuitive. “I was just thinking,” she said finally.

  “About?”

  How someone so obviously sensitive to others could be so cruel to a woman he had—at least on TV—fancied himself in love with. But aware this wasn’t the moment to bring that up—that it would take a lot more subtlety to work the question into the conversation—Lainey said, instead, the first inane thing that came to mind. “I was just wondering about those cows you are having delivered tomorrow,” she fibbed. “They’re not going to be in the same pasture as that bull, are they?”

  Brad gave her a bemused look as he went to his closet and flipped through the Western shirts Lainey had just ironed, organized and hung up. “That’s kind of the point of buying twenty virgin heifers,” he told her drolly.

  She cringed. It was all she could do not to cover her ears. “Please don’t call them that.” It conjured up thoughts of sex. And sex was the last thing she needed between her and Brad.

  “What would you like me to call them?” he asked, mischief turning up the corners of his lips. He leaned against the bathroom door frame, brawny arms folded in front of him.

  Lainey knew her eyes were suddenly sparkling, too. “Cows?” she guessed timidly, knowing her lack of knowledge about ranching matters was endless.

  “How about longhorns?” he said dryly.

  “Fine.” She took a deep steadying breath and tore her eyes from the sleek masculine contours of his chest. She was not going to wonder what it was like to touch him. There. Or there… “Back to the, uh…um…” Oh, dear heavens. Couldn’t she keep her mind on the conversation they were having for one second?

  “Inseminating?” Brad asked helpfully, even more mischief in his eyes.

  “Yes.” She steeled herself not to be so attracted to him. She had a job to do here, she reminded herself sternly. Two jobs! “Can you please not have the longhorns mating in front of Petey.”

  His chuckle filled the air. “Where would you like me to take them? A bedroom?”

  Lainey failed to contain the blush rising upward from her neck. “How about the barn? Couldn’t they, um, do it there?” She couldn’t believe she had just said that. And judging from the look on Brad’s face, neither could be.

  “These are longhorns,” he told her matter-of-factly. “They need room to maneuver and the freedom to—how should we say it…engage?—when they feel like it.”

  Lainey sputtered, “But Petey—”

  “Probably knows a lot more than you think,” Brad interjected.

  Lainey scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. “He doesn’t know about this,” she stated firmly.

  Brad straightened and sauntered toward Lainey. “Then maybe it’s time he did.”

  Lainey watched as Brad carried the jeans and shirt he had selected into the bathroom and hung them on the hook inside the door, then returned to his bureau to search for the black knit Jockey shorts she had also put away. “I’m not prepared to talk to him about the birds and the bees just yet.”

  He took his socks and underwear into the bathroom and plunked them down on the nicely organized black ceramic tiled counter. “Then just talk to him about bulls and heifers,” he said.

  Lainey paced back and forth, her slides echoing against the wooden floor. “That might lead to other questions,” she said.

  He looked down at the hot pink polish she had put on her toenails the evening before. “Yes, it certainly might,” he drawled.

  She struggled not to react to the way his glance was slowly moving up her bare legs. “You’re not being at all helpful!” she scolded.

  For lack of a better place to sit, Brad went back to lounging on his bed, legs spread, arms resting on the mattress on either side of him. He looked at her and slowly shook his head. “You’re not being at all realistic if you think a kid can be a
round animals and not eventually get some idea of how Mother Nature works.”

  Lainey didn’t know whether to slug him or kiss him. Truth was, she wanted to do both. “So you won’t help me out with this?” she asked, piqued.

  Brad rubbed the underside of his jaw, testing the just-shaved smoothness of his skin. “I’ll talk to Petey, and explain to him what’s going on and why, if you want,” he offered, all cocky male.

  “That wasn’t what I meant!” Lainey threw up her hands in exasperation and stomped closer.

  He offered an engaging half grin. “I know what you meant.”

  Lainey moved even closer. “You can be very aggravating,” she told him, even as she was aware a chance like this might not ever come again.

  “So I’ve been told,” he admitted rakishly.

  “Is that why you broke up with Yvonne Rathbone the way you did, just to be aggravating?” Lainey asked.

  THE QUESTION CAME out of nowhere, and spoiled the playful mood that had sprung up between them. “Why do you care?” Brad asked her, aware she was one of the most natural beauties he had ever seen in his life. Everything about her was extraordinarily fine. From the top of her honey-blond hair to the tips of her toes, she was one memorable woman. Which of course made her unprecedented nosy question all the harder to take.

  Lainey shrugged. A self-conscious flush darkened her cheeks but she didn’t back down. “I’m curious.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat.”

  She kept her eyes on his. “I’m no feline.”

  Brad sighed, not about to argue that point. “You’re all woman, all right.” Palpable tension arose between them as Lainey edged closer.

  “So what happened?” Lainey pushed him deliberately. “Did the two of you sleep together? Did Yvonne disappoint you in bed? Is that what happened to make you walk away?”

  Brad’s gut told him two things. One, Lainey didn’t look as if she wanted him to have that kind of past with Yvonne. Two, he had the feeling Lainey had said that just to get a reaction. He and his brothers used to do that to each other, when they were growing up, whenever they wanted to dig out the truth. They’d say something so outrageous that the target of the innuendo would have to say something to defend himself. Before they knew it, the real story was out there.