Texas Wishes: The Complete Series

by Kristina Knight

  Not the heiress who would break her grandfather’s heart in a few weeks.

  Not the heiress who would be looking for a job soon.

  Not the glue keeping her family and the ranch together.

  Not the woman who would have to learn to live without Jackson Taylor. All over again.

  Was a few minutes too much to ask for? Within the next twenty days she would go back to being Kathleen Witte. She would figure out how to make Grandfather see her point of view. She would take Jester Eight to World’s. She would get over this silly crush on Jackson. Soon, but not tonight.

  Damn it, she was taking the time. Couldn’t they pretend to be hidden by shadows from the bar hut, somewhere on the Malecon in Puerto Vallarta for crying out loud? What was that saying? Things stay in Mexico? Well, this was close enough. Kathleen would enjoy some time with Jackson, and then leave it here.

  Vanessa and Monica would know exactly how to treat this evening. So she reached into her fuzzy, kiss drunk brain and pretended to be one of her sisters.

  “I’m a big girl. Why not just take what you want?”

  “You don’t know anything about me.” Kathleen couldn’t read his face in the garden shadows, but something in his voice made her try. Was that sadness? Wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? No talking, just faking their way through the next few weeks until her birthday?

  Fifteen minutes, and then she would go back to worrying about this stupid situation she’d gotten them both into.

  Kathleen sat up, levered herself from her chair into his, and straddled his lap. Placing a small kiss beside his mouth, Kathleen said, “You’re Jackson Taylor, world class photographer and artist.”

  Another kiss, this time on the dimple in his chin.

  “You’ve helped me keep Grandfather out of loop, so you’re a loyal friend.”

  Her lips found his.

  “You kept our secret through the gala, which means I won’t have to face even more tongue-wagging after you leave.”

  Settling her mouth over his open lips, Kathleen dipped her tongue inside. His hands moved from the chair arms to her shoulders and he pushed back lightly.

  “Aren’t you afraid we’ll be seen?”

  Kathleen looked around the darkened rooftop. No one in sight. Probably most of the residents were still out clubbing, and some might be attending the benefit. She and Jackson were partially hidden inside the cabana, the deep shadow blanketing them. Someone would have to know what they were looking for to see anything, and since no one knew…

  “Not really.” She leaned in to him, placing tiny kisses down his neck. Scooting forward, she felt his erection through his jeans and slowly rocked. Jackson groaned deep in his throat.

  “You’ve been peppering me with questions about my past since we got back to Texas.”

  “You can tell me anything you want or nothing at all. What is it that I should know about Jackson Taylor at this very moment?” she asked between kisses.

  His hands moved to the waistband of her skirt. “Nothing comes to mind,” he said gruffly.

  “Thank God,” Kathleen said and lowered her mouth to his.

  With trembling hands, she framed Jackson’s face, drawing her fingers from the back of his jaw to his chin. In a quick move, his hands parted the silk folds of her robe, caressing the soft skin of her stomach. With smooth strokes, he moved his hands from her navel to just below her breasts.

  Sucking on his bottom lip, she let her hands drop to his waistband, pulling his tee shirt up and over his shoulders. Letting it drop on the deck beside them, Kathleen took a moment to look at him.

  His chest was tanned and strong, with a heavy layer of hair sprinkled over the skin, trailing down to a V that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans. She felt his stomach muscles bunch as she raked her fingernails over his heated skin. She loved having power over him, loved that she never got tired of looking at him.

  And for just a moment, the insecure Kathleen came back.

  “What do you like?” To this point, he led the way through their loving. Oh, she had touched and caressed but never set the tempo. What if…

  Jackson’s left hand reached up to run through her long hair. “I like you,” he said and untied the knot in her sash, parting her robe over her breasts. For several long minutes, he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, his roughened skin playing against her softness. Kathleen moaned and arched her back, wanting a more intimate touch.

  Reaching around her back, Jackson drew the robe off, dropping it to the other deck chair. Deliciously cool air brushed against Kathleen’s back and she shivered.

  “Cold?” Jackson asked, pulling her closer, the movement bringing her pelvis into intimate contact with his. She could feel his erection pulsing beneath her, felt a wave of moisture dampen her upper thighs, and her inner muscles clench.

  She shook her head, unable to talk. Kathleen didn’t think she would ever be cold again. Not as long as Jackson kept touching her.

  He ran his hands over her back and she pressed her chest to his, the tiny hairs zinging sparks of pleasure through her body.

  “What do you want?” he asked, echoing her question. But he already knew the answer to that question.

  Reaching for his waistband, she said, “You.” The button and zipper opened and Kathleen reached her hand inside. “Just you.”

  He was long and hard as she wrapped her hand around him. The pulse of his blood beating against her hand, she gripped him tighter and Jackson groaned.

  His left hand pressed against her back, making her straighten in his lap, while his right hand pulled her breast to his mouth. With gentle movements, he took her nipple into his mouth, then laved it with his tongue. His left hand came around and he suckled first one breast and then the other.

  Kathleen eased lower onto him using her own hands to tease and torture her body by drawing him up and down her slick folds. She allowed each movement to come closer to the beating pulse in her center but stopped short every time.

  “Use me, Kath,” he urged.

  He took her breast into his mouth again, then moved slightly to dip his fingers into her core; her hands raked through his hair pulling, his mouth closer still. First one finger, then two entered her and Kathleen moaned. When his thumb finally found her center, she knew she was losing control.

  Her mouth met his and the thrusting of his tongue mimicked the thrusting of his fingers. He withdrew his mouth, but his fingers kept up the rhythm.

  “Let go, sweetheart. Let go.” His breath was hot on her neck, sending another pleasurable shock to her system.

  The words barely penetrated the fuzz in her brain, but Kathleen knew without a doubt she couldn’t let go.

  “Not yet,” she said, reaching down to draw him up. She rubbed her thumb over his silken tip and felt him tremble. “I want you inside me.”

  Slowly, Jackson withdrew his fingers, sat Kathleen back a scant few inches, and reached into his back pocket. He pulled a foil packet from his wallet then tossed it onto the chair with their clothes.

  When he was sheathed, Kathleen rose then lowered herself onto him.

  As she slid down his length, Kathleen felt her muscles tighten in response. Jackson moved his hands to her hips as she found her rhythm.

  With every movement, she felt her insides tightening. Then he reached between their bodies, his thumb brushing against her and she was lost. Kathleen threw back her head on a low moan and watched the stars above explode in color.

  She felt another climax as Jackson bucked beneath her. He pulled her chest to his and drew his strong hands down her back, around her buttocks, and squeezed.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he mumbled. Kathleen felt the same.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next week passed much like the first few days. Every morning Grandfather a
sked Jackson to take a tour of the property. Jackson quickly declined and disappeared into San Antonio, reappearing for dinner several hours later. Somehow he had even won Vanessa over. The last few nights she had been positively cordial. And almost warm.

  He was still keeping secrets, still hadn’t told her even the most uninteresting fact about his life before UTEP, not that she could blame him. Just because she was falling head over heels for him didn’t mean he felt the same, and Jackson wasn’t the type of man to share his thoughts or actions with anything less than a true friend.

  With each day she wondered more about his secrets, hoping that he would finally tell her everything. He knew all of her secrets — her first boyfriends, the love/hate relationship with her sisters, her fears about Nathaniel.

  Their nights, though, were Kathleen’s favorite time. When they stripped away the lies they were living and became the Jackson and Kathleen she had dreamed of in college. Except sharing their bodies was quickly driving a wedge between them that Jackson refused to see. She hated not talking to him. Hated that he wouldn’t tell her what was so important in San Antonio. She hated that she cared enough to want to know because it was only asking for heartbreak in the end. In less than two weeks Jackson was free to return to his life and obviously that was what he wanted.

  While she wanted to turn two more weeks into fifty more years.

  Lord, she was a hopeless case. And now she was waiting on the side of the road to follow him into San Antonio, assuming that was where he actually went every day.

  Kathleen loved the city, but was there really enough in San Antonio to keep a man practically glued to it eight hours a day for more than a week? She felt like an idiot for complaining, even to herself, because their deal had been breakfast and dinner together only. In Mexico she’d made it clear that her days would be occupied with training Jester and that Jackson could do as he pleased.

  In Texas it didn’t seem to be working. Oh, no one seemed any the wiser that they were only playacting at marriage, but watching Jackson drive into the sunrise each morning, wondering where he was all day and never getting a straight answer was getting to Kathleen.

  Jester wasn’t taking her lack of attention well. In fact, she had no idea why the horse was the only one in her life who seemed to sense her growing stress level. Jackson was oblivious. Vanessa and Nathaniel always put their issues first so their lack of attention wasn’t surprising. But even Grandfather seemed to think things were perfect for the newlyweds.

  She should be happy he couldn’t see through the veil of lies but instead it made her angry. Why couldn’t he choose now to pick apart her life? It might make Jackson open up to her.

  Which was why she was ignoring the training schedule, skipping breakfast and waiting in Guillermo’s decrepit truck this morning. Picking at a loose thread in the upholstery, she felt like a loser. Or worse, one of those made-for-television movie-wives who started a cheating husband detective agency.

  Why did she care about this in the first place? It made no sense. Jackson in Texas made no sense. He so obviously belonged in the New York art world that even four weeks in Texas had to be suffocating him. Yet he didn’t complain. He made nice with her family, including Nathaniel who had been staying around the ranch and drinking less lately. Why couldn’t she be happy with that and let him lead his life however he chose during the days?

  A cloud of dust in the distance caught her attention. Kathleen shoved the old cowboy hat down low over her eyes, pulling the old truck onto the highway. Jackson’s rented SUV appeared in the rearview mirror but he didn’t pass. What was he waiting for? She was barely doing the speed limit.

  Jackson seemed in no hurry so Kathleen slowed her vehicle. Jackson followed suit, seemingly content to watch the coleche rocks pass his window at a snail’s pace. Her heart rate sped up and she clenched her hands around the steering wheel. Did he recognize the truck? Or her?

  She slowed again, now cruising well below the speed limit and Jackson slowed as well. Sunlight hitting his windshield kept his expression hidden. Was he going to follow her now? This was getting ridiculous. Kathleen’s sweaty palms slipped on the wheel and the tires jerked slightly to the left. She righted the old truck and considered slowing yet again. Maybe that would force Jackson to pass her. Or flash his lights, letting her know for certain that he recognized her and wanted to talk.

  No. She wasn’t going to slow down. She would keep the truck moving slowly but steadily toward town. Jackson would pass her eventually. Right?

  Another mile ticked slowly past and Kathleen began second guessing her decision. It would take all day just to reach the city limits at this point. Maybe she should pull over and admit to trying to follow him. He’d think she had lost it but at this point what did it matter?

  A gravel road dog-legged to the right and Kathleen took it. Jackson remained on the main road. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and took another breath. He hadn’t recognized her behind the wheel of the old truck. It should be a relief but wasn’t. Kathleen shook herself and turned the truck around.

  The angel on her right shoulder argued with the devil on the left. The angel told her to turn around and go back to the ranch. The devil insisted Jackson was hiding something in San Antonio.

  The devil won and she turned the truck toward Lockhardt and the road to San Antonio. She didn’t want Jackson to recognize her, at least not yet. First, she needed to know what pulled him into the city for hours every day. Reaching the highway, she saw Jackson’s truck shrinking in the distance and pressed hard on the gas pedal.

  Kathleen left plenty of space between the vehicles, hoping that Jackson would think nothing of another truck on the road. Before she was nearly ready, San Antonio appeared in the distance and the city traffic began. She cut the distance between the vehicles but left enough room for a car or two to drive between them.

  Jackson took the exit toward the downtown area and Kathleen breathed easier. There were plenty of areas to photograph downtown. Maybe Jackson was working on a coffee table book or some other project that was taking up more of his time.

  Past downtown, Jackson kept driving. Moving quickly through the historic neighborhoods without so much as a tap on his brakes. Where was he going? The area became increasingly rough and rundown. Kathleen’s breath caught when he turned into what was left of a parking lot, shut off his truck, and sat starting at one of the large buildings.

  Trying not to draw attention to herself, Kathleen drove slowly past. She refused to look in Jackson’s direction, pretending to be interested in another building. Not that he would notice a run-down truck in a run-down neighborhood. A block farther on, Kathleen parked around a corner and locked the truck. She pushed her hair beneath the cowboy hat and zipped a lightweight jacket over her torso, hoping it would camouflage her body.

  Jackson still sat behind the wheel of his SUV staring at the building across the road as if he could see through the walls. What was in there that was so important? Kathleen tried the door but it was locked. No one seemed to be there. Was this an apartment building? An office? There was nothing to identify it, not even a street number. Afraid Jackson would notice her, Kathleen continued down the street. She watched from around the corner until Jackson left the SUV, camera in hand, and began to walk.

  He snapped a picture now and again — a child on a makeshift tree swing, an overgrown ball field, an abandoned school. Kathleen followed him at a distance, ducking into doorways or around corners when it seemed he might turn in her direction. With every passing second she felt dirtier.

  What was she doing? Jackson was obviously taking photographs for his New York show or maybe for a book or postcard series. She had no business following him around like a parole officer waiting to pounce. She should go home. Now.

  She looked around, not recognizing anything. She’d been paying too much attention to Jackson and not enough attention to their surr
oundings. He obviously knew where he was going. Kathleen promised herself she would go home as soon as anything looked familiar.

  Gradually they made their way back to the first building and once again Jackson seemed entranced by the empty place. He sat on the curb taking photographs from several angles. Mad at herself for spying on him so long Kathleen walked back around the block, climbed into Guillermo’s truck, and began driving back to the ranch, her heart breaking for the sadness in Jackson’s posture as they walked the area, as he stared bleakly into the building.

  What had happened to him there?

  • • •

  Jackson tossed the camera onto the passenger seat and slammed the door to the SUV. What was he doing back here? He had no business in the neighborhood. There were no answers here. No answers to be found anywhere if he were honest with himself.

  Maria had deserted him when he was seven. Even if he found her what did he expect? A hug and a sob story about why it had been better for her to leave? And that would change his life how? It wouldn’t change the fact that he’d been a nuisance to his father, a reminder of the past she didn’t want to exist to his step-mother, and a threat to his half-brother.

  Face the facts, man.

  There were no justifiable reasons for a mother to leave her seven year old child, alone, in a big city. It shouldn’t matter to him, not now. He made it through college, landed a plush job freelancing for a few magazines, and built that into a profitable business working with the best designers, models, and magazine editors on the planet.

  And yet he tortured himself with a walk around the area every day for more than a week. Hoping what? That Maria would show up and change his life? His life was damn good. If she did show up she would likely want money, money, and more money

  This was doing him no good. He should at least capture the essence of San Antonio.

  The pictures from the barrio wouldn’t fit in his New York show but he couldn’t stop his eye from framing shots or his fingers from taking them. Enough of this. He had wasted enough time on this childish urge to find his mother. Over the next few days, he would take that ranch tour Mitchum kept talking about and start capturing San Antonio in pictures. Make something of this crazy trip into insanity.