It was all about this man and this moment.
This.
20
THE NEXT FEW hours passed much too quickly for Nikki. She and Cole had more exceptional sex and shared the most scrumptious peanut-butter-and-marshmallow sandwich in the wee hours of the morning, and then spent the rest of the morning talking. About everything from his brothers to her sisters, his excitement at the chance to go down in the history books with a record-breaking sixth saddle-bronc championship in a row and her nervousness at not knowing which sous-chef position to take. She’d heard back from two of the restaurants where she’d submitted resumes, and both had offered her a spot immediately after graduation.
All she had to do was prepare and cook a spectacular beef Wellington during her last and final class on the upcoming Friday—in just five days—and she would have her pick.
The Savoy.
That’s what she told herself as she researched their website while Cole climbed into the shower. They’d checked for bank transactions to find that her mother had made a stop at a fast-food restaurant on the other side of Three Rivers and so they were pulling out and making the trek to the small town in search of more clues.
They wouldn’t find any because Raylene was already on the road by now, heading for Port Aransas and the broken-down house that she intended to renovate into her dream bar.
Maybe.
That’s what she told herself, desperate to ignore the truth—she knew where Raylene was going and she should just get it over with and tell Cole the truth.
She wanted to. At the same time, she knew that would kill the companionship they’d found over the past week and she just wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet.
Another day, another step closer. Then she could be sure and break the news. She would.
She forced the thoughts aside and concentrated on The Savoy’s menu blazing in full color on the computer screen in front of her. An endless list of the most upscale gourmet offerings imaginable. There was everything from marinated beef filet with port-wine reduction to rosemary-crusted lamb with mint-cream sauce. The appetizers were equally complicated. The desserts were light and balanced. And there wasn’t a grilled cheese or a peanut-butter sandwich in sight.
The realization stirred a pang of sadness that must have shown on her face because Cole stalled in the hallway, a towel around his waist, water dripping from his still damp hair, and gave her a curious look.
“What’s wrong?”
Everything.
“Nothing.” She killed the web connection, closed the lid on the laptop and pushed to her feet. “I really should get dressed if we’re going to pull out within the hour.”
And then she walked away before she did something really stupid, like throw herself into his arms and admit that the feelings pushing and pulling at her went much deeper than lust.
Falling in love with Cole Chisholm was not part of her plan. While they did share a passion for a good grilled cheese sandwich, they were still all wrong for each other. He was Cole Chisholm, as beautiful and sexy and wild as the broncs he rode, and she was not-so-wild Nikki Barbie.
Despite the crazy, exceptional, extraordinary sex last night.
She couldn’t fall in love with him.
* * *
SHE’D FALLEN IN LOVE with him.
Nikki finally admitted the truth to herself as she sat in a small diner on the outskirts of Three Rivers—across from the fast-food place where Raylene Barbie had swiped her credit card less than twenty-four hours before—and watched Cole cross the street to ask the usual questions.
Have you seen this woman?
Is she still in the area?
Do you know where she’s going?
She hadn’t wanted to love him. She’d feared loving him, because it would mean putting herself on the line and risking his rejection. As long as she believed that a man like him could never be serious about someone like her, there was no need to blurt out her feelings.
No risk. No rejection. No pain.
The thing was, the notion of never feeling his arms around her again, of never sitting next to him at a pickle festival, or sharing a snack late at night, or never again making wild, passionate love to him hurt her far worse than the notion of giving up her dream of being a chef.
She loved him, all right.
She’d always loved him, ever since he’d taken her hand that time and walked her home when she’d been in kindergarten.
She’d loved him every moment since, though she’d done her damnedest to pass it off as a bad case of lust, which hadn’t been too difficult considering her nonexistent sex life.
Cole Chisholm was sex, with his smoldering bedroom eyes, his teasing grin and seductive mouth. But his appeal went even deeper than a great body or a handsome face, or wicked hands, or the fact that he knew how to use them.
He drew her to him. The gentle, tender boy he’d been who’d huddled with his brothers in the back of a rusted-out Chevy. The grown man he was now, who volunteered his time to give advice to a bunch of junior mutton busters and judge a pickle competition. The man who cherished his brothers enough to drive clear across Texas to retrieve a bunch of cash in the hope that it will help them make peace with the past. The man who teased and smiled and made her feel every bit a wild, wicked woman no matter what she was wearing.
She loved him.
And he loved the idea of her.
Because he didn’t really know the real woman. Sure, he knew she wasn’t all she was cracked up to be in her bad-girl getup, but he didn’t know that she’d deceived him.
That she was still deceiving him.
“He was a liar and a cheat.” She remembered his words when he’d spoken of his father. The bitterness in his voice. The resentment.
He was sure to feel the same thing for her when he discovered she was no better than the man who’d betrayed him and his brothers for a huge wad of cash and a bottle of liquor.
And she wouldn’t blame him because she was no better.
But she wanted to be.
She wanted to be someone he could depend on. Trust. Love.
And suddenly nothing else mattered but that she tell him the truth right here and now. Regardless of the consequences.
Because of them.
Because the last thing she needed was to spend another day talking to him, laughing with him, loving him.
It was time to come clean. For his sake, and her own.
“They remember her.” His deep voice slid into her ears and she glanced up just as he slid into the seat across from her. “Not that it matters. She didn’t mention where she was going, or drop a hint what her next move might be. Looks like we’re stuck here until she makes another move.”
“No, we’re not.” She steeled herself and gathered every ounce of strength she had deep down inside. Her gaze met his. “We don’t have to stay here. We can pull out today.”
“What are you talking about?”
She tamped down a wave of fear and held tight to her newfound courage. “I know where she’s going.”
21
HE HADN’T SAID a word in the past hour and a half.
Not since they’d left Three Rivers and she’d explained her last conversation with her mother and the all-important fact that she’d had a hunch about the woman’s destination all along.
No Why didn’t you tell me sooner?
Or How could you do such a thing?
No ranting and raving and telling her what a liar she was and how much he hated her. Nothing but cold, thick, unforgiving silence.
Because he doesn’t feel anything for you. You betrayed him and now you’re not deserving of any of his feelings. No hatred. No love. Nada.
He was simply ambivalent.
Thankfully.
> She didn’t have to worry about a huge fight along the way, or a tear-filled goodbye when they parted ways. They would reach Port Aransas, locate her mother, recover the money and go their separate ways, no emotion involved.
Talk about easy.
But there was nothing easy about the confrontation that followed when they finally reached the run-down house on a small stretch of deserted beach near the far end of Mustang Island, just minutes down the road from the coastal hot spot of Port Aransas, Texas. A faint breeze blew in off the water, stirring a chill in the cool October air. The waves rolled and crashed, mimicking the flood of emotion roiling inside Nikki.
“What are you doing here?” Raylene Barbie demanded when they rounded the house and walked up onto the back deck where she sat. The house stood empty and dark behind her, the paint peeled away, the windows busted out. Raylene pushed to her feet, her expression filled with surprise rather than guilt, and Nikki had her first hint that something wasn’t quite right.
Something besides Nikki’s strained relationship with the man standing beside her.
“Just hand it over and we’ll be on our way,” Cole said, his gaze darting past Raylene to the open doorway and the sparse furnishings inside. As if he could spot the one thing that had lured him clear across the state.
“Don’t come here and bark orders at me,” Raylene started, but Cole wasn’t about to let her finish.
“Hand it over or I’ll go in and take it.”
Fighting words, Nikki knew, but Raylene was too busy being confused to rise to the challenge. “Hand what over?”
“The money,” Nikki chimed in, eager to diffuse the volatile situation before it ignited. “We know you took it, Mom. Just give it back—all of it—and we’ll be on our way.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Raylene sank back down to her worn lounge chair, her shoulders slumped as if the air had rushed out of her at the mention of the cash. “I don’t have any money, nor do I know anything about any money. If I did, I wouldn’t be drowning my sorrows in this cheap-ass can of beer.” She motioned to the inexpensive brand sitting on the table in front of her. “I would have picked up some of the imported stuff. Maybe even a lime or two. And I’d be on the phone right now trying to do something about all of this.” She motioned around her. “It used to be so much prettier.” She seemed almost sad and Nikki’s chest tightened.
She’d never seen her mother so pensive and...regretful, even. As if nothing were going according to plan.
She knew the feeling.
“Mom, it’s okay. We just need the money back.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Listen, lady,” Cole started, his patience obviously shot, “I’m through wasting time. Hand it over right now.”
Most women would have cowered beneath Cole’s stare, but Raylene wasn’t most women. She’d held her own for too many years to let anyone intimidate her. “I didn’t invite either of you here. Go back to Lost Gun, back to matrimonial bliss and all that crap, and leave me alone.” She rubbed a hand over her suddenly weary face. “I’ve got a lot to figure out.”
Cole arched an eyebrow. “Like how to spend my money?”
“Actually, I’m using more brain power on how I’m going to get by without any money of my own,” she snapped. Her gaze swiveled to Nikki. “Get him out of here before I call the cops. This is private property and I don’t want you here. Either of you.” For all her bravado, her hands trembled ever so slightly.
“Go ahead.” Two fingers dove into his pocket and he handed over his cell. The phone hit the wooden table with a dull clunk. “Call them and tell them you have a trespasser. And then I’ll tell them I’ve got a thief in possession of a hundred thousand dollars in stolen bank bills.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The duffel bag, Mom,” Nikki chimed in again. “The one that was sitting in my living room. We know you took it. I saw you pick up something when you left. I thought it was your purse, but then Cole found his bag missing and, well, I knew. You took it.”
“That old thing? Well, yeah, sure, I took it. But I didn’t steal any money. I wouldn’t do that. No matter how hard the times.” She shrugged. “Hell, I didn’t even know there was any money in it. I just thought it belonged to this one.” She motioned to Cole. “I took it just to piss him off.”
“So you didn’t open it?”
“Hell, no. I just tossed it in the Dumpster out back.” She snorted. “Just to teach him a lesson for what he did.”
“You threw it in the Dumpster? The one in back of the bar?”
“Damn straight, I did.”
“Like hell,” Cole thundered. “What do you take me for? An idiot?”
Raylene shrugged. “Hey, if the boot fits—”
“Mom,” Nikki cut in. “This is serious. We’ve come a long way. You have to tell us the truth.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” And while Raylene had never been the most sympathetic and understanding mother, she’d always told the truth. A straight-shooter, she called herself, and Nikki couldn’t help but believe her.
“She tossed it,” Nikki heard herself say.
“And you didn’t open it?” Cole pressed Raylene. “Not even a peek?”
“Trust me, if I had I wouldn’t have thrown it in the Dumpster. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here in this hell hole right now, not with a plush Holiday Inn just down the road.”
“When does the Dumpster get picked up?” Cole asked Nikki and she knew that he’d finally bought Raylene’s explanation.
“Every Friday when it’s full. If not, they leave it until the following week.”
“Today is Sunday. That means...” He let loose a series of curse words that burned even Nikki’s ears, and she’d grown up with Raylene who could give any sailor a run for his money. “They already picked it up.”
“Maybe,” Nikki said, desperate to say something to ease the sudden tightness in his muscles. “If it wasn’t full, they might have left it. There’s still a chance.” While it had taken them six days to track Raylene across Texas because they’d been following a slow transaction trail, they were technically only twelve hours away from Lost Gun. If they left right now—
“We have to go,” Cole cut in, obviously following her train of thought. “Now.” And then he turned and headed for the RV parked in the driveway.
“Was there really one hundred thousand dollars stashed in that duffel bag?” Raylene’s voice followed Nikki.
“Yes.”
“If that don’t beat it all...”
* * *
THE DUMPSTER WAS EMPTY.
They discovered that hard truth in the wee hours of the morning when they finally rolled into Lost Gun and headed straight for the Giddyup.
A single bulb gleamed overhead, casting a pale glow on the back parking area and the large green metal container that sat just off to the side of the back door. There were a few bags of trash inside, but it was obvious that the Dumpster had been emptied not very long ago, the contents hauled out to a huge landfill that sat a few miles outside the city limits.
It was the county dump spot and overflowing with mounds and mounds of trash from every Dumpster within a sixty-mile radius. Which meant that Cole and his brothers would have another four months of digging before they found the bag.
If they found it.
“So what happens now?” Nikki asked a stoic-faced Cole.
“I break the news to Jesse and we figure out what to do next. I’m more than happy to pay it back myself, but the whole point was to give back the actual money.”
So that everyone in town would know that they’d been telling the truth all these years, and while Cole claimed that he didn’t care, she could see that he did.
He cared, all right.
He cared a lot.
“I need to get out of here.”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted when he turned away. “I really am. I should have told you. I just didn’t know for sure at first and I didn’t want to say anything when it was just a theory. And then when I knew, I couldn’t say anything. Not without you thinking what you’re thinking right now.”
“Which is?”
“What a horrible person I am.”
He actually looked surprised. “That’s not what I’m thinking.”
“It’s not?” She swallowed the lump sitting in her throat and focused on the thread of hope coursing through her. A crazy, delusional feeling because it wouldn’t change anything. She knew that, yet she couldn’t help but ask anyway. “Then what are you thinking?”
“That you should have trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”
“Why?”
Because I love you and you love me.
That’s what she wanted him to say.
But as much as she wanted him to say the words, she feared them, as well. Because as much as she’d tried to convince herself otherwise, she was still Raylene Barbie’s daughter.
A truth that had nothing to do with the risqué clothes that she wore or the way she flirted her ass off when the situation called for it, and everything to do with the man standing in front of her.
The only man she’d ever really and truly wanted.
She’d been so fearful of being stuck in Lost Gun, of following in her mother’s footsteps despite her best efforts when truthfully, she was doing just that by running off to Houston to pursue her culinary dream.
She was doing just what Raylene had done her entire life—she was running from commitment. From love.
She’d never let any man get close to her because she’d feared being caught. Stuck.
A chip off the old block.
Like hell.
She wasn’t running from commitment because there was nothing on the table. No declaration of love. Not even a half-hearted I really like you.
Texas Outlaws: Cole Page 13