Texas Two Step: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1

by Cynthia D'Alba

  She looked at the back of his head as he stared out the side window, seeming to study the landscape as it whizzed by. The ends of his hair were distinctly lighter than the roots, visible now that he’d removed his hat. She suspected his hair had been lightened and his skin tanned from the daily sun exposure of working on his ranch. She’d seen him wear a cowboy hat so many times, and she could picture him on his horse, his hat saturated with sweat, the ends of his long hair soaking up the sun’s rays as he rode behind the cattle. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember ever seeing his hair this long. He’d once told her he always kept his hair short to make the south Texas heat bearable. And while she liked his new look, she had to admit she missed the old one.

  “Haven’t had time to keep up with the old crowd. You never did get married, right?” His gravelly voice jerked her mind from reminiscing.

  “Wrong. I did.” His question surprised her, but if the shock on his face was any indication, her answer was an obvious bombshell. Her gaze snapped back to the road.

  “You did? How come I didn’t know that?”

  She shook her head while saying, “I don’t know. It wasn’t a state secret or anything.”

  “So you’re not Olivia Montgomery?”

  “Of course I’m Olivia Montgomery. I just added Gentry to the end. I married Drake Gentry. I don’t think you ever knew him.”

  “I didn’t. Will he be here this weekend?”

  “No.”

  He gave her left hand a pointed stare. “Are you still married?”

  She shook her head. “Divorced.” A pang of regret settled around her heart, regret about hurting Drake, a wonderful man who’d been her rock when she’d needed stability the most. He’d been there for her and she’d let him down so many times in so many ways.

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm? What does that mean?” She glanced toward him, wondering why his opinion was suddenly so important. At almost thirty, she ran her own business while raising a wonderful son single handedly. Why did Mitch’s opinion still mean so much to her?

  His fingers drummed on the arm console between them. “I’m just surprised. Your marriage caught me off-guard.”

  “So I gathered. Why? Did you think no one would marry little old me?” she asked, lifting one eyebrow in a challenge.

  He chuckled and placed his forearm on the back of her seat, letting his elbow dangle in the opening between the seats.

  His deep-throated chuckle reverberated through her again. The muscles in her jaw clenched at the zap of energy tingling through every nerve.

  “Don’t be a goose.” He tapped a knuckle on the side of her head. “Any man would be fortunate to have you as a wife and a fool to give you up. I…I’m just surprised no one told me, especially my mother. They talk, you know? My mother and yours.”

  She nodded. “I know.” She also often talked to his mother but some secrets were best left alone.

  “Since Caleb left for school, and without James to help, keeping up with all the ranch work means odd work hours. Up early, to bed early. Like I said, I haven’t really kept in touch with old friends.” He caressed her cheek again with a rough finger. “Like you.”

  Her heart leapt into her throat at his touch. The muscles in her stomach seized. She turned her singed cheek away from his touch. “No problem. I’ve been busy myself.”

  “What happened? To your marriage, I mean.”

  Frowning, she exhaled loudly. “Nothing happened. Drake and I are still good friends. Better friends than lovers, I guess.”

  Mitch had been stroking her neck with a finger. His finger stilled at the word lovers. “Is he in Dallas?”

  The hair in her ponytail tugged at the roots when she shook her head. “No. He’s in Wyoming on an archeological dig. Something about dinosaurs.”

  Definitely time to change the subject from marriage. She did not want to venture into Mitch’s marriage and divorce from Joanna St. Claire. The fact he’d married Joanna, or anyone else, a mere six months after their break-up still squeezed her heart almost to the point of breaking.

  And she certainly didn’t want to talk about, or even remember, the phone call from Mitch explaining the marriage. The pain of his betrayal had almost killed her. It’d certainly driven her to make some questionable, if not outright bad decisions. But the choices he’d made about his life had affected the choices she made about hers, and now she had her own secrets to keep.

  She ordered her mind not to think about that phone call years ago, but that worked as well as saying don’t think about pink elephants. In her mind, she was there again, sitting in stunned silence as his words tore her heart and her future to shreds. The anguish from that night scalded her eyes with tears she couldn’t shed…at least not right now. When she was alone, she would allow herself to remember. Then, and only then, she could cry.

  Yes, the last thing she needed this weekend was deep, heartfelt talks. She blinked hard and lifted her chin.

  “So,” he said, dragging out the word. “Are you seeing anyone now? This Mark person maybe?”

  Laughter erupted, mostly in relief at the change in subject. “Well, I’ll admit, Mark is quite the stud, but Nancy—that’s his wife—frowns on him dating other women.”

  As she’d hoped, Mitch laughed. “Who is this nice guy who would lend you his Mercedes?”

  “One of my trainers. Ex-Dallas Cowboy linebacker.”

  “Great. He must bring a nice clientele to your gym.”

  “He does.” A smile spread on her lips at how the addition of Mark had boosted her bottom line.

  “You didn’t answer my question though. Are you seeing someone?”

  “No one right now. You?” When she glanced toward him and their gazes locked, Olivia felt as though she were drowning. She gasped in a breath, and then turned back to the road, switching lanes with a quick jerk of the wheel.

  He shook his head. “Not much. As I said, most of my days start about five in the morning and end about seven at night. Sometimes as late as midnight.” He rested his hand on her headrest. “Hard to cram a social life in there.”

  When she thought of Mitch with another woman her heart cleaved in half, but she had to be realistic. They’d had their shot at a relationship and failed. And with a marriage apiece, they’d apparently found other people to fill the void.

  The front pocket of her shorts vibrated, startling her. As she dug out her cell phone, she swerved. Damn. If she put even a ping in the paint of Mark’s car, he was going to kill her. After steadying the car, she glanced at the number display. Jim’s Gym. She flipped open the phone. “Hello?”

  “Momma?” a high-pitched voice asked.

  Switching the phone to the ear farthest from Mitch, she said, “Hi, Adam. I asked you not to call me unless it was important.”

  “But it is,” the tiny voice whined.

  “Okay. What’s the problem?”

  “Nancy’s making me take a nap. Tell her I’m too old for a nap.”

  Mentally, Olivia shook her head in maternal frustration. They went through this almost every day at naptime. “You know the rules. When I’m not there, Nancy’s in charge. You do what she tells you. Got it? Now, let me talk to her.”

  Each word was chosen with extreme care. Mitch would hear every word of her end of the conversation. It’d be impossible for him not to. But he didn’t need to know anything about Adam. In fact, she’d be happy if Mitch went home neither hearing of nor meeting her son.

  “Nancy,” the little boy yelled.

  Olivia flinched at the volume of her son’s voice.

  “Momma wants to talk to you.”

  Clicking and clacking sounds reverberated through the receiver as the phone passed from her son to the assistant manager at Jim’s Gym.

  “Hi, Olivia. What do you need?”

  Olivia paused, thought, and then chose her words carefully. “Adam called me about your plans for the afternoon.” She shot a furtive sideways glance toward Mitch, who was watching her. S
he stifled the urge to shiver under his intense gaze.

  Nancy drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So sorry, Olivia. I thought he was already asleep on the cot in your office. I’ll handle the little troublemaker.”

  Olivia laughed softly. “Okay. I’ll see you both in a little while.” She clicked the phone shut and slid it back into her pocket.

  “Problem at the gym?”

  “What?” Guilt stilled her body. “Oh, no. Not really. Everything’s fine.”

  She wheeled into the hotel’s drive and pulled the lever to open the trunk. Uniformed bellmen immediately opened both doors. A third bellman unloaded Mitch’s luggage onto a cart.

  Olivia slid from the car and glanced toward the valet holding her door. “I won’t be staying. Just dropping off.”

  “I’ll meet you at registration.” Mitch handed the luggage bellman some folded bills from his wallet and watched for a moment as the man rolled the cart toward the lobby. Mitch walked around the car to Olivia. “Thank you for the ride.”

  His voice was formal and distant, and strangely, she was relieved. She needed some emotional distance between them to survive the weekend.

  “You’re welcome, Mitch. I’ll see you tonight.”

  After he gave her a quick kiss on the lips, he tapped his finger on her nose, winked and walked away.

  Olivia touched her lips with her fingertips. Her heart tattooed painfully against her ribs. Exactly like old times. Some flirting, a few laughs, and then an exit without a backward glance.

  She watched him enter Grayson Mansion through revolving doors then momentarily shut her eyes. Not again. She steeled her resolve. She wouldn’t let him get to her again.

  The wedding obligations were for Friday and Saturday only. Two days. She was mature enough to handle Mitch Landry’s presence for that long.

  Mitch tipped the bellman and shut the door to his suite, grateful for the quiet. Exhaustion was kicking his ass. He’d been up most of the previous night with a difficult calving. But saving the mother and her calf was worth losing a night of sleep. If he wanted to be the least bit sociable tonight, he needed a short nap.

  Stripping off his clothes, he headed for the cream-colored, marble-tiled shower in the lavish bathroom befitting the luxurious suite décor. As he stepped under the hot, pounding water, he couldn’t stop thinking about Olivia. Seeing her at the airport had thrown him for a loop. Of course, he’d known he’d see her this weekend. He simply hadn’t prepared himself for seeing her the minute he stepped from the plane. He grimaced. He hadn’t looked his best when they’d met, but damn, she looked good.

  Most of their conversation was a blur, but two facts stood out in his mind—her divorce and her current single status.

  He frowned as he rubbed the soap bar over his tightening chest. How had he not known about her marriage? His mother and hers had been college sorority sisters and gossiped all the time.

  Did his mother know? Of course, she did. She had to. The question was, why hadn’t she mentioned it? A subject for their next conversation.

  Olivia wasn’t seeing anyone. That thought made him smile. Their break-up had been painful…for both of them.

  He shoved his face under the showerhead and let the pounding water bounce off his head. He hated that he’d hurt her, but hell, at the time he’d thought he was doing the right thing. One of these days he’d learn not to decide what was best for everyone else and do what was best for him, regardless of how selfish that sounded.

  He stepped from the shower and rubbed a thick towel over his body. An inkling of jealousy ticked his psyche as he remembered the phone call from someone named Adam. Her voice had been affectionate during the telephone conversation, even when it seemed as though she wasn’t happy with whatever Adam was telling her. Who was this Adam person? He sorted through his memories of her circle of friends for the name. He didn’t know an Adam, did he? None came to mind.

  Slipping between the soft sheets, he hoped his mind would turn off and his eyes would slam shut as soon as his head hit the pillow. No such luck. Instead, memories of Olivia circled his brain as though set on a continuous loop. Her laugh…her smile…her kiss.

  She’d looked great, hell, more than great. He’d underestimated his reaction to seeing her again. He wanted her. Desired her. Craved her touch.

  With a groan, he punched his pillow and rolled to his side. She, on the other hand, seemed cool…friendly but distinctly cool.

  He flopped onto his back and threw his arm over his head. Of course she was cool. Hadn’t he been the utmost ass when he’d left her? He covered his eyes with his arm and groaned at the memory of that phone call about marrying Joanna. Guilt gnawed inside, driving the acid up the walls of his stomach.

  Even though he would be in Dallas until Monday, his wedding duties would only tie up Friday and Saturday, leaving him all day Sunday free. Would it be possible to make it up to her with a little fun and extra attention this weekend? Maybe they could even recapture some of the old magic.

  This weekend was all the free time he had. He had to go back to the ranch and his life there. She would return to her life here. Their lives would go on as before, but it would be nice to part as friends and be able to leave his guilt in the past.

  Seven hours later, Olivia threw the car into park and checked her face in the rearview mirror. Lips red, no telltale chocolate hiding in the teeth, nose powdered. She studied her face in the mirror. She could see guilt etched in every wrinkle, every shift of her eyes. Hopefully, no one else would look that close tonight.

  A diamond-covered heart locket around her throat glittered in the fading evening sun. She lightly stroked the gift Mitch had given her on her twenty-second birthday. Prying it open with a fingernail, she looked down at the man’s face on the left and her son’s face on the right. Carbon copies. Had she made a mistake wearing the necklace tonight?

  When she’d dressed, she’d hesitated before fastening the locket around her neck. Would Mitch read anything into her wearing his gift? Was she subconsciously sending him a message?

  No, she wasn’t. The locket was the nicest piece of jewelry in her collection.

  And not looking her best tonight would be criminal, the imp on her shoulder whispered.

  Her breathing was quick, not panting, but shallow and rapid. Nerves had that effect on her. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the seat and concentrated on slowing her breaths, calming her nerves and stashing her tractor-trailer load of guilt in the far recesses of her mind.

  After a couple of minutes, she drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly then opened the driver’s door. She stood, letting the black silk dress slither down her body until the hem skimmed the skin above her knees. The sliding silk caressed her overheated skin inch by inch, stirring up the butterflies in her stomach. She pressed her palm against her abdomen and waited for the nervous tension to abate. As she straightened the diamond locket necklace, she strengthened her resolve.

  Facing a firing squad had to be easier than facing an old lover.

  As she hurried through the lobby to the Promenade, her three-inch strappy heels clacked on the white and black tile of the foyer. Hosiery and she were not close friends. Heck, they were barely acquaintances. Normally, she avoided wearing stockings when she could, but for tonight, thigh-high black silk stockings made a sexy swoosh sound as she race-walked. She liked it.

  “Sorry,” she called to Emily as she hurried to join the other members of the wedding party.

  Emily waved and then turned to a tall, reed-thin woman standing beside her. The pinched-face woman clapped her hands for attention. “Okay. Listen up. We’ll go through this a couple of times. I suspect most of you know what to do, but please pay attention.”

  The gossiping and whispering undertones stopped with the handclap, and the bridal party stilled, listening to the wedding planner’s instructions.

  “Bowing to tradition of bad luck, the bride and groom have decided not to walk through the wedding. Olivia?” Th
e wedding planner looked around, eyebrows raised.

  “Here.” Olivia dropped her purse into a chair and hurried forward.

  Wolf whistles from the groom and his groomsmen produced a wide grin on Olivia’s face and a reassurance that her dress selection was exactly right.

  “Good. Emily would like you to walk through her paces as the bride. She’ll take your place as maid of honor, that way you’ll know your role tomorrow.” Her gaze scanned the group of men. “Now, where’s Mitch?”

  Mitch stepped from the herd of men leaning against a wall. Dressed in a black pinstriped suit, dazzling white shirt, red tie and black cowboy boots, he could have been the groom from the top of a wedding cake. If the facial expressions of the other women were any indication, several of them would have volunteered to help clean the icing off his boots…while he was removing the rest of his duds.

  His long black hair from this morning had been trimmed. Shorter, but still long enough to make Olivia’s fingers twitch to run through the strands. Her heart swelled with a familiar emotion that, until today, she’d thought dead. She licked her lips as her hands clenched into fists.

  For Olivia, Emily was family. Olivia adored her three brothers, but she’d always dreamed of having a sister to gossip with, practice hairstyles on, shop with, and all of the other activities Olivia imagined sisters did together. Meeting Emily in first grade was like finding her lost sister.

  When Olivia had found out Mitch would be the best man, she could have made her excuses and skipped being in the wedding. Emily would have understood, but the idea of not being with Emily on the day she married was inconceivable. Olivia had assured Emily that Mitch being in the wedding wouldn’t be a problem. After all, they’d both moved on with their lives.

  But she’d been wrong. Seeing him, touching him, even hearing his laugh was tearing her to shreds. Now she was being asked to play bride to his groom.

  Her nails made half-moons in the palms of her hands. Why couldn’t he be fat and bald instead of tall and hunky?

  Chapter Two