“Hi.”
Olivia took the flowers. “Hi.”
“Can I come in?”
Olivia stepped back and Mitch stepped in.
“I’m assuming the rest are from you too,” Olivia said. “I don’t have that many admirers.”
Mitch smiled, but that didn’t relax the tension in his face. “Can we take a drive?”
“Look, Mitch. I love all the flowers, but—”
“Hear me out, Olivia. Give me that much.”
“Why should I? You were planning to take my son away from me.”
“No. I’m…” He sighed. “I’m not trying to take Adam away from you. Take a drive with me. I have something I want to show you.”
When she hesitated, he added, “Please.”
She set the roses on the entry hall table. “Okay, but this’d better be good.”
They drove about seventy miles outside the city limits. The drive was quiet, both seemingly afraid of speaking and mucking up the tentative peace. Mitch turned onto a paved driveway and under an archway. Olivia looked around at the fields of green grass and imagined what a herd of prime cattle would look like grazing in all the tall grass stalks. Mitch followed the circle drive to the front door of a two-story white columned manor.
“Whose place is this?” she asked.
“C’mon.” Mitch stepped from his truck and walked around to her door. Opening it, he extended a hand to help her out of the truck.
Olivia looked around, saw no one. She took his hand and stepped on the pavement. She might as well have grabbed a live wire. She extended her fingers to release his hand but he flexed his tighter, maintaining their connection.
“Gorgeous house.” Her voice quivered. She hated showing any weakness. He might have said he wasn’t trying to take Adam away, and even though her lawyer had received nothing from Mitch’s attorney, she wasn’t ready yet to trust him. She’d done that before and look how that had turned out.
Mitch nodded. He led her up the steps onto a sweeping, wraparound porch. He opened the front door and walked in as though they were expected. Olivia hesitated at the door.
“Mitch. I don’t understand. Whose house is this?”
She followed him down a wide foyer into a sparsely furnished living room. Water flowed down one wall into a shallow trough where it was collected and returned to the top of the wall to fall again. Olivia had always loved the sound of running water. Had Mitch remembered that, or was the fountain-wall just a happy coincidence?
While the house obviously had electricity—otherwise the fountain wouldn’t be running—candles of all sizes, heights, shapes and colors covered every available surface of end tables, coffee table, fireplace mantel and shelves. When tables and shelves were full, candles had been placed all around the room on the floor. Someone had lit every candle, filling the space with a sweet, floral aroma. Candle flames flickered and danced on the walls and ceiling.
Olivia turned in a full circle, took in every carefully placed item. The room vibrated sexual energy. The attention to detail, to make this scene everything she could have dreamed of, exploded the thick wall she’d constructed around her heart.
“This is…is…incredible. Gorgeous.” She glanced at Mitch. His drawn face suggested something serious. “What’s going on, Mitch?” She pulled her hand from his, suddenly fearful that he’d set the stage to deliver bad news. Her heart beat heavily and she found it difficult to breathe with the band squeezing her chest.
“Sit down.” He nodded toward the sofa. “I need to…just sit.”
She did as he requested. He didn’t join her, but began to pace.
“I’m not sure where to begin so I’ll start with I’m sorry.” He ran his hand through his hair. “It seems like I say that a lot to you.” He walked a couple of steps, turned and walked back. “First, I had no idea what Joanna was up to. I swear. I never asked her to meet with my lawyer about getting custody of Adam. Never. That was her lame-brained idea.” He shook his head. “I had no idea what you were talking about when you left, telling me to have my lawyer contact yours. When my lawyer called a couple of weeks later about needing my signature on papers and mentioned getting the paperwork going on the custody action, I was stunned. After meeting with Joanna and with him, I pieced together that Joanna had it in her head that if she helped me get custody of Adam, I’d need her to help me raise him so I’d marry her again.” He rubbed his eyes. “She was shocked that I didn’t agree that was the perfect solution to get us back together. Where she got the idea that I would ever want to get back with her…”
He paced. Olivia waited.
“I had another long talk with my parents about Adam and Mom dropped a bombshell. She said that one of the reasons she and Dad had never told me about Adam was Joanna. They didn’t trust her. You want to know the kicker?”
Olivia nodded.
“Neither of my parents believes she was ever pregnant. They think she dreamed up that pregnancy to get James moving on their engagement. Then when James died, she was stuck with the story. I don’t think any of us were thinking straight. James’s death was such a shock. It was like I went to sleep, and when I woke up I was married to Joanna.” He met Olivia’s gaze. “I did love her…like a sister. Never like a man should love a woman he’s planning on spending the rest of his life with. Do you know what I mean?”
Of course she did. Hadn’t she done the same thing with Drake?
“I know what you mean.”
Relief rolled across his face. “I don’t love Joanna. I love you, Olivia. I’ve always loved you.”
Her heart beat loudly in her ears. Had she heard him right? She was afraid to speak, afraid she’d misunderstood.
He sat on the sofa next to her. “Did you hear me? I love you.”
“Is this about Adam? Are you telling me this because we had a son? You don’t have to. I’ll let you see Adam.” This was a gamble, but Olivia had to know if he loved her or if he loved Adam’s mother.
Smiling, he took her hand. “I love you, Olivia Montgomery Gentry. I loved you before Adam was conceived. I loved the girl you were in college and I love the woman you’ve become. I love you for being the mother of my son.”
“So what is it you’re wanting, Mitch?”
“I want to marry you. I want us to build a life together. The life we should have had six years ago.”
When she hesitated, he added, “I’m not asking you to move away from Dallas and your friends and your family. I’ll move here.”
She was stunned. He was offering to reorganize his life to accommodate her and Adam. “But what about the Lazy L? Your family?”
“You don’t understand. You and Adam are my family. You’re what I need, what I can’t live without.”
“And the Lazy L? What will happen to the ranch?” The guilt of him giving up everything to be with her gnawed at her.
He chuckled. “That’s where this story gets crazy.”
She arched an eyebrow and waited.
“Mom and Dad held on to the ranch for James, Caleb and me. Caleb has no interest in ranching.” When she looked surprised, he said, “I know. Shocked me too. Seems little brother has an interest in becoming a vintner. He’s studying agriculture in college, focusing on grapes and wines. With James gone, that just left me and Dad. Dad turned down an offer to sell the Lazy L about ten years ago. Since then, he and Mom have talked about retiring. That would leave the entire Lazy L operation to me to run. It’s not that I couldn’t do it, but I realized that without my family, without you and Adam, I didn’t want to do it.
“When you left, the house felt empty, too quiet. I guess I got used to Adam stomping on the hardwood.”
“I’m confused, Mitch. I still don’t know whose house this is, and why we’re here, or even what you are proposing.”
He grinned. “Proposing is the right word.” He slid off the couch onto one knee. “I’m proposing marriage. Marry me, Olivia. Live with me here.”
“Here? This house, here?”
> “This house, yes. I’ve been talking to your brothers, and let me say, I had no idea Travis could cuss like that.” He laughed. “It took me a while to convince them to see me, hear me out. I’m going into business with your brother Cash, raising bulls for the Professional Bull Rider circuit. This ranch is smaller than the Lazy L but a perfect setting for starting a new operation.”
“But the Lazy L?”
“Sold. As soon as I knew that’s what my parents wanted, and they knew I needed to be here with you, it was a no-brainer. Dad has been turning down offers for years. We finally accepted one.”
Olivia was breathlessly overwhelmed. He’d hit her with so much new information. Her head swam with all he’d just told her.
“Olivia.”
She looked at him kneeling before her. Being apart from him for the past three months had taught her how much she loved him, and that no other man could take his place in her life. She could see love in his eyes. She could hear the honesty in his voice when he said he loved her. While she had some regrets about their three-month separation, she knew it had given both of them time to think about what was important in life, and she believed they’d come to the same conclusion. Love and family. They shared love. They shared a son.
“Marry me?”
She slid from the sofa to sit beside him. Now they’d share their lives. They were equal partners in this relationship. Neither above or below the other.
“I love you, Mitch. Yes, I’ll marry you anywhere and any day. What would you think about giving Adam a sibling?”
He leaned forward and kissed her. “No time like the present.”
About the Author
Cynthia D’Alba was born and raised in a small Arkansas town. After being gone for a number of years, she’s thrilled to be making her home back in Arkansas living in a vine-covered cottage on the banks of an eight-thousand acre lake. When she’s not reading or writing or plotting, she’s doorman for her two dogs, cook, housekeeper and chief bottle washer for her husband and slave to a noisy messy parrot. She loves to chat online with friends and fans. You can find her most days at www.cynthiadalba.com or www.everybodyneedsalittleromance.com. Follow her at www.facebook.com/AuthorCynthiaDAlba, www.twitter.com/CynthiaDAlba, or email her at [email protected].
All she wants is his name on the dotted line. He’s got other ideas…
Sold to the Highest Bidder
© 2010 Donna Alward
For Ella, marrying Devin had seemed like a good idea at the time. Friends since childhood and in love with him for as long as she could remember, marriage had been the next logical step. Then the real world called, and Ella’s feet had itched to get out of Backwards Gulch, Colorado.
Now, with a new opportunity on the East Coast beckoning, it’s time to put her past behind her once and for all. When she sees Devin standing on a charity auction block, she decides it’s the perfect opportunity to finally get his signature on the divorce papers he never signed.
Devin’s certain about one thing when he sees Ella for the first time in twelve years—she’s not the girl he married. The way she left him still stings, and if she wants him to sign on the dotted line he’s going to make her work for it…for the full forty-eight hours she paid for.
When the old attraction flares between them, the years apart disappear and resolve melts faster than high-country snow in summer. But when Ella awakens with the same determination to get back to Denver, divorce papers in hand, she has a problem…
Devin still hasn’t signed them.
Warning: Bourbon shooters, shirtless cowboys, and a hot rendezvous or two…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Sold to the Highest Bidder:
Ella scrambled to write her check and hurry outside, her heels clicking furiously on the scratched wood floor. The article had slipped to a corner of her mind. She knew Ruby Shoes and its patrons well enough to fudge that part of the article. She ignored the calls from old neighbors and long-ago acquaintances. What she really wanted to know was where Dev had gone. And how on earth she could convince him to sign the papers so she could leave this backwoods town behind her forever. He owed her now. She had just made sure of it by buying him off the stage. He was at her beck and call for forty-eight hours. All she wanted would take a few seconds.
The air outside had cooled and it kissed her skin, damp from the close atmosphere inside the bar. Her feet halted abruptly. Dev was leaning against the tailgate of his pickup truck, the same two-tone brown Lariat he’d driven to the courthouse on their wedding day. It had several more dents and rust spots now. He’d put his shirt back on. Thank God. Because seeing all those planes and angles while he’d flashed that knowing dimple at her had been torture. It had brought back memories she’d rather stayed buried.
She didn’t want to be married to him any more. That had nothing to do with the fact that seeing him strip off his shirt had made her want to touch him. Taste him. Make love to him. It was plumb crazy, but her libido had spoken loud and clear—it was listening to her memory, not her head.
A small grin curled up the side of his mouth and her breasts tightened. She needed him to sign the decree. Now. So she’d never have to see him and his sexy grin again. So she could finally move on.
“What are you doing here, Ella?”
His voice was a little soft, a little rough, and it rode the endings of her nerves, sending shivers up her spine. She straightened her shoulders. There was no way on God’s green earth she would let him know he got to her in any way. And he sure didn’t want to spend two days with her. Not once in twelve years had he made any effort to see her whatsoever. She’d let him off the hook all for the price of his name beside the X.
She lifted her chin, tucked her notebook more firmly into her handbag. “Does it matter?”
He nodded, slowly. “You bet your designer bag it does. And I’m pretty sure paying two thousand dollars for two days with me wasn’t the reason. Though we could have a lot of fun in two days, don’t you think? For old times’ sake?”
Memories of bygone days swirled around her, seducing. “Shut up, Dev,” she murmured.
He boosted himself away from the truck and came closer. She could smell his woodsy aftershave, feel his body invade her personal space and hated herself for liking it. Craving it.
He leaned into her ear while the hairs on her neck stood up from the close contact of his breath on her skin.
“You could have had me for free.”
She planted her hands on his shoulders and pushed, skittering away on her heels. “I…I was sent on a story. It had nothing to do with you, you egomaniac.”
He snorted, looking at the ground and scuffing it with the toe of a sorry looking boot. “A story. Of course. Makes sense to send a big-city reporter to a dive like Ruby’s for some trumped-up charity event.”
He wouldn’t understand. He never had. This was why she’d sent him divorce papers several times, even back when the legal fees to do so meant she had to eat peanut butter for a few weeks. “There’s something bigger at work than Betty Tucker’s illness, you know.” She straightened her blouse and raised an eyebrow at him. Damn straight. There was corruption from the top down, and Betty Tucker was only one victim. Bringing an exposé against Betty’s insurance company would guarantee Ella her choice of assignment.
“I bet Betty Tucker wouldn’t think so. Do you think a woman who might be dying cares at all about how many newspapers get sold in Denver?”
Damn him. He’d always had a way of making her feel small when that wasn’t what she’d meant at all. Couldn’t he see it was a greater-good issue? But Dev had never been one to see the big picture. He’d had the most annoying tunnel vision of anyone she ever met. Right and wrong. Black and white.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” she huffed, lifting her nose and moving to walk past him to her car. Forty-eight hours. Hmph. If he’d sign by the X right now, he’d be off the hook and she’d consider it two thousand dollars well spent. They could end this farce of a mar
riage and get on to their respective lives.
He reached out and grabbed her arm.
“You never expected me to understand, Ell.” The words were laced with unexpected venom. “I understand a hell of a lot more than you think.”
His fingers burned holes in her sleeve and she fought back the thrill of excitement thrumming through her just by having his hands on her again. It shouldn’t happen after all this time, but he’d always had that effect on her. She pasted on the brightest smile she could muster. “Brilliant. So why don’t you tell me what I’m thinking right now?”
He still had a firm grip on her biceps and she tilted her chin way up to look at him. Even with her heels on, he was taller than her. Over six feet of manly sexiness. Her gaze caught on his lips. Those lips had known every inch of her when they’d been little more than kids. She blinked. Back then he’d been the solution, not the problem. The savior, not the devil.
“You’re thinking, how am I going to get Dev to sign those papers I’ve got sitting in my car?”
She twisted out of his grip and stomped to the car as his knowing laughter echoed behind her. She had been thinking exactly that. Along with wondering how his mouth would feel over hers when she wanted nothing more than to be free of him. For good. How was it possible to think both at the same time?
“Well. You’re smarter than you look,” she answered, determined he not know the effect he was having on her. If ever she’d needed confirmation that she’d done the right thing by not looking back, here it was staring her in the face. She couldn’t even manage a simple conversation with him without losing perspective.
“Yep. So where to now, Ell? Because according to your terms of purchase, we’ve got forty-eight whole hours.”
A shiver went through her at the possibilities. But possibilities got a girl absolutely nowhere. “You sign these now, and we’ll call it even. Both of us free as a bird.”
Texas Two Step: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1 Page 23