Texas Two Step: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1

by Cynthia D'Alba

  Startled, she stumbled into the coffee table and clasped a hand over her jumping heart. Hastily, she dried her eyes on the arm of the robe and turned toward him. “I think I’d better go.”

  He went to her and wrapped her in his arms. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  For just a moment, she allowed herself to soak in the heat from his arms, allowed herself to feel the joy of being held by him again. Then she forced herself back to reality. “Nothing’s wrong. Really.” She pushed against his chest.

  His touch, so gentle and caring, was a caustic acid to her soul, bubbling all her guilt to the surface. Tonight had been a mistake. She’d been a fool to think she could walk away unscathed.

  “Stay the night.” He kissed her ear. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he said with a crooked grin.

  She shook her head. “I can’t, Mitch. I have to get home.”

  “Why? Stay.”

  This time she shoved hard enough to force him to take a step back. “I really have to go,” she repeated, her voice coarse with unshed tears. She had to get out of there, and fast.

  She untied the robe, letting it glide down her arms onto the floor. Wearing only her locket, she snatched her dress off the floor and wiggled it up her body. She shoved her feet into the pointed stilettos, her toes howling in protest.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, hurrying to the door. “Good night, Mitch.”

  “Wait.” He stalked across the room, his long legs eating up the distance between them. Slamming his palm on the door, he held it closed. “You want to tell me what is going on here? Tonight was incredible. We connected as though we’d been apart for a day, not years. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it too. Now you’re charging out of here like the hotel’s on fire. What happened? What’d I do wrong?”

  All of her strong bravado momentarily faltered. Her shoulders sagged. The air rushed from her lungs on a sigh. Recapturing her resolve, she stiffened upright. “It was wonderful. You were wonderful. Tonight was wonderful. Can’t we just leave it at that?” Let me go, please.

  “No, damn it, we can’t. Tell me what’s going on.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug, an indifference she didn’t feel. “Nothing’s going on.” She cupped his face in her hands. His prickly whiskers stabbed into her palms. She stood for a moment, enjoyed the feeling of holding his unshaven face before she sighed and swallowed the gallon of tears threatening to overflow at any minute. “Let me go. Please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  Please, please push me out the door. Please don’t be nice. Please don’t ask me to stay again. I only have so much strength.

  She leaned forward and kissed him and let her hands slid from his face. He caught one hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a kiss in her palm, branded her as sure as any of his cattle.

  “Stay with me tomorrow night. Bring a change of clothes. I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

  Her mouth drew into a grim line. “I’ll try.”

  He captured her face between his hands and kissed her. “Tomorrow night.”

  Olivia raced home through quiet early morning Dallas streets. The stoplight in the intersection turned red and she braked. Argh. Why waste electricity to stop her at a red light when there was no traffic.

  Frustrated and furious with herself, she banged her fist on her steering wheel. She was a fool. An idiot. When she ran out of creative ways to describe the lunacy of her actions, she flipped on the radio, praying the music could shut up her internal voice. After one chorus of “I’ll Always Love You”, she flipped it back off and hit the gas. That was no help at all.

  Stupid. She’d thought she could handle sex with Mitch. Truly believed she could get him out of her system. That a little fling couldn’t hurt either of them.

  Ha!

  Streetlights glistened in rainbow colors when viewed through her tears.

  What a sad joke she’d played on herself. Not only had tonight not dampened her feelings for Mitch, now they were as deep and solid as oak-tree roots. She’d never be over him.

  But being with him wasn’t an option either. She’d accepted a life without Mitch years ago.

  They’d each made life-changing decisions in difficult situations. He’d never forgive her for the decision she’d felt forced upon her by circumstances outside her control. Sometimes she wondered if she could ever forgive him for making the decisions that had altered the course of her life and their son’s.

  She swiped at her damp cheeks with the back of her hand. If he learned about Adam… Well, she didn’t think she could bear his disappointment in her…and worse, the hatred in his eyes she was sure would be there. Would he love Adam enough to want to raise him, or would Mitch hate her enough to try to take Adam from her?

  It didn’t matter. No one, not even Adam’s father, would ever come between her and her son.

  Chapter Four

  Not every woman could pull off wearing a dress the color of a bruised face after a good bar fight. Olivia could and had. The strands of her blonde hair shimmered under the lights. Her eyes sparkled as reception guests made toast after toast to the newlyweds. Some women secretly resented when friends got married, jealous the friend had found love when they hadn’t. Olivia’s face displayed only genuine joy for her friends.

  Mitch hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to her before the wedding, but when she’d started down the aisle during the procession, his heart had pounded against his chest like a bull trying to get to a heifer. Her gaze had captured his the minute she’d started her walk and never let go. He could have looked away, broken off the connection, but he didn’t. The closer she came, the tighter the knot in his gut had clenched until he wondered if his face reflected the pain. God, she was beautiful. While she might not admit it aloud, her actions told him everything he needed to know. She wanted him as much as he desired her.

  Mitch would have sworn he didn’t have a jealous bone in his body. However, as Olivia made her way through the reception crowd, greeted and hugged individual guests, he had to resist the urge to rush over, wrap his arm around her shoulder and claim her as his own.

  He drained a flute of champagne and exchanged it for a fresh glass from a passing waiter.

  “You want to tell me why you’re glaring at the maid of honor,” Tony, one of the other groomsmen, asked.

  “I’m not.”

  Tony chuckled. “Bullshit. You haven’t taken your eyes off her since she walked into the rehearsal last night. And what was with that rehearsal kiss? Wes suggested someone throw a bucket of water on the two of you.”

  Mitch arched one eyebrow. “Someone needed to show Wes how to do it.”

  Tony hooted. “She’s one hell of a woman, isn’t she?”

  “Emily? Yes, she is. Wes is one lucky bastard.”

  Tony playfully slugged Mitch’s arm. “Not Emily, but yeah, she’s great too. Olivia. Wes’s been trying to fix us up for the last month or so. Wanted me to escort her for the wedding, but I’d already asked someone. That’s going nowhere, so…” He shrugged, snatched a champagne flute off a passing tray and downed it in one long gulp. “I think I’ll give Olivia a call next week.”

  Both men looked at the woman under discussion. She stood with the other bride’s attendants holding up flutes in a salute for the photographer. The sweet smile she’d worn during the wedding was gone, replaced with a broad and wide grin that lit up her face. She threw her head back in a laugh and the sound carried across the large reception hall.

  Mitch sat his glass on the nearest table and looked at Tony. “No, I don’t think you’ll be calling her next week.”

  Tony laughed. “Man, you’re hundreds of miles away. Me? I’m right here in Dallas. Which one of us stands the best chance of seeing Olivia next weekend?”

  Mitch walked off with Tony’s laughter still ringing in his ears.

  “Mitch.” A large woman dressed in blue grabbed his arm. “I’m Teresa Miller, Emily’s mother.”

&nbs
p; Mitch shook the hand she offered. “Yes, I know, Dr. Miller. It was a lovely wedding.”

  He took a step back to move on, but Dr. Miller insisted on regaling him with stories of growing up on a cattle ranch in Wyoming, delaying him long enough for Tony to make his move. By the time Mitch could politely excuse himself from the woman’s clutches, he found Olivia on the dance floor in Tony’s arms. Mitch’s hands rolled into fists of annoyance as Tony swept Olivia around the room in a grand gesture, then dipped her low to the floor, his mouth mere inches from hers. The edges of Mitch’s vision reddened with rage. He snatched a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and downed it in one gulp. The cold liquid did nothing to cool him.

  After that dance, every attempt to locate Olivia met with failure and a growing frustration. Either she was on the dance floor in the arms of another man, or another wedding guest intercepted him and wanted to talk.

  Reining in his impatient nature—and his jealousy—he talked and smiled and drank, all the while keeping Olivia within his sights. Whether she was in his immediate area or not, she was planted firmly with one goal in his mind. He wanted her back in his bed, the sooner the better.

  As music faded from one song and the DJ transitioned into the next, he spotted Olivia making a hasty retreat from her dance partner. When she headed for the bar, Mitch decided he’d had his fill of champagne and followed in her wake.

  “I’ll have a beer,” he said to the bartender. “Whatever you’ve got in a bottle will be fine.”

  “Good thing you’re not driving tonight,” Olivia said, rolling a cold bottle of water over the back of her neck.

  Mitch turned toward her and arched an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

  Olivia intercepted the hand-off of the beer from the bartender. “I’m not sure mixing champagne and beer is a wise idea. However, I’ve been too busy to drink. I’m parched. This looks wonderful. Mind?” She took a long swallow from the dewy bottle and sighed. “Just what I needed.” She fanned her face with her hand and added, “All the dancing, you know.”

  He took the bottle from her and set it on the bar. “I know. I saw you. Surely you saved one dance for me?”

  She hesitated.

  The first notes of Tim McGraw and Faith Hill’s “Let’s Make Love” drifted from the speakers.

  As the music filled the room, he smiled and held out his hand. “They’re playing our song.”

  She hesitated a moment longer, then returned his smile with one that rocked him to his toes.

  His blood thickened, forcing his heart to pump the molten lava through his veins.

  “Okay,” she said with sigh. “But only one dance. These shoes are killing my feet.” She took the hand he’d offered and led them onto the dance floor.

  “Darlin’, feel free to take them off…or anything else for that matter.”

  She chuckled then pressed her body against his, draping her arms around his neck. Her luscious breasts flattened against his chest. As though sharing one mind, their breathing became synchronized. He looked down into her face, trying unsuccessfully to see into her mind through her eyes.

  He momentarily hesitated. The daily ranch work had left the palms of his hands rough and dry. Would that matter to her? Would his palms snag the soft material of her dress?

  She held his gaze and smiled. “Dancing works better when we both hold on.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched with laughter. He’d missed this woman. He just hadn’t realized how much until this weekend. He wrapped her snugly in his arms and pressed her tight against him, or at least as tight as two people could be in public while still clothed.

  Every cell of his body was aflame with desire. The soft silk of her dress allowed his roughened palms to slide smoothly to the small dip in her lower back. He grew hard against her abdomen. Their bodies fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

  They swayed to the music, seemingly unaware of anyone or anything else around them.

  She licked her lower lip, pulling it between her teeth.

  He growled deep in his throat. Angling his head, he kissed her. When she sighed, he drew her breath into his mouth. Her breath was his breath of life. He needed her. He knew that.

  Her beer-flavored kiss made him long for privacy and a soft bed. The shiver of her body assured him she’d been as affected as he by this simple kiss.

  The song came to an end. He held her long after the final notes faded. Everything about being with Olivia again fit like puzzle pieces. What had been fragments of a picture was now a fully formed vision of what they could have together. She filled a hole inside him he hadn’t been aware existed until this weekend.

  “Olivia?” The bride’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts.

  Olivia startled. Her head snapped toward the voice. “Emily. What’s wrong?”

  Emily smiled. “Nothing. I wondered if I could talk to you for a minute.”

  As Olivia stepped from his arms, a rush of cold air filled the space where she’d been. His arms dropped to his side, empty and aching to be around her again.

  “Sure.” Olivia glanced at Mitch. “Thanks for the dance. In case I don’t get a chance to talk to you later, it was good to see you this weekend.” She gave him a quick kiss.

  Mitch retrieved his beer and watched as the two women linked arms and walked out of the reception. He tipped the bottle to his mouth. If she thought she could escape so easily, she didn’t know him at all.

  “The wedding was beautiful, Emily.”

  Emily looked over at Olivia. “This is the happiest day of my life. It’d have been impossible to pull off this wedding without all your help.”

  Olivia lifted one silk-covered shoulder in a shrug. “You’re my best friend. You know I’d have done anything to make this day special.” She placed her hands on Emily’s shoulders. “I’ve never seen Wes so happy. The look on his face when you walked down the aisle was the look of a man in love. He had the biggest grin. I know you guys will be happy.”

  Emily turned and hugged her. “Thank you again. When I asked you to be my maid of honor, well, I knew I was asking a lot. I worried that being around Mitch might open up old wounds. It wasn’t fair to you. I know that. But I couldn’t get married without you. Was it just awful?” Emily’s face wrinkled into a mask of concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” When her answer didn’t erase the worry from Emily’s face, Olivia added, “It wasn’t as much of a problem as I’d feared. Don’t worry so much about me. This is your day. When are you and Wes making your grand exit?”

  “Now. Before we left, I needed to thank you one more time for all you did to help.”

  Olivia placed a light kiss on Emily’s cheek, cautious to not leave lipstick. “You’ve said it, now go. Enjoy Hawaii.”

  With a final wave, Emily hurried to her new husband, leaving Olivia alone and more than a little melancholy. As happy as she was for Emily and Wes, the green-eyed monster tore at her insides.

  Emily and Wes faced the thrill of starting a new life together, the comfort in finding a soul mate, the promise of love and honor until death, the confidence this person—this life mate—would always be there for you, come whatever.

  Olivia wanted all that too. The love and honor. The wonderful confidence of a husband’s love. The lifetime commitment.

  Because of her choices, her decisions, Olivia didn’t know if she’d ever have that kind of security in a relationship. But Adam was worth any price. She could never regret her decision.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself.” The familiar deep southern voice whispered in her ear.

  She couldn’t stop her lips from twisting into a smile. Her pulse beat bass drums in her ears. “Why’s that?”

  “You outshone the bride today.”

  Olivia chuckled. “I don’t think so, but…”

  She turned toward Mitch and mentally sighed at the sight. Tall. Tan. Muscles hard as bricks. A small scar on his chin. Masculine sexuality oozing from every pore. He was too h
andsome and he knew it.

  “Thank you for the compliment.”

  Mitch leaned against the wall, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tux pants. She let her gaze roam from his black cowboy boots to his dark blue eyes, storing his deliciousness in her memory file cabinet. She lifted an eyebrow and whistled. “You should wear a tux every day.”

  He laughed. “A little overdressed for riding the range, but I guess I could amend the dress code. Have a feeling my foreman and cowboys might complain, however.” He stepped away from the wall, pulled his hands free and placed them on her shoulders. “You have an overnight bag in your car?”

  His light touch bore into her shoulders like a ten-ton weight. Or it could have been her guilt bearing down on her. She shrugged out of his grip. She’d almost lost control of her emotions while they danced, which could have been disastrous. Truth be told, she probably shouldn’t have even danced with him, much less kissed him again.

  Mistakes. One after another after another. She’d decided on the drive home last night that it’d be better for her to break her own heart by walking away from him than to wait for him to do it by walking away from her. She wasn’t sure she’d survive another goodbye from Mitch.

  “No. I have to get home. Sorry.”

  His eyes darkened. The smile dropped off his mouth. “I want you to stay.” Used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it, the frown on his face revealed his frustration at being told no. But tonight, that was the answer, like it or not.

  She’d promised herself one memorable night with Mitch and she’d had last night to make her memories. Each time they parted, she left a part of her behind. She couldn’t keep doing that.

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?” He leaned over her, his warm breath touching her face with each word. “I saw the look in your eyes when we kissed. Felt you shiver at my touch. You want me as much as I want you. What are you not telling me? Did you lie to me?”

  Her breath hitched. Did he know about Adam? Had someone inadvertently mentioned her son? Mitch could do the math. He’d know, or at least suspect, that Adam could be his son.