The Book Babes Boxed Set (Texas Ties/Texas Troubles/Texas Together)

by Jean Brashear

  “That’s nice, but—”

  “Of course you’ll join us,” came a sweet voice. The woman looked very much like the girl who’d banged on his door. “We can’t take no for an answer. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on the turkey.”

  Wyatt’s gaze followed her, love evident. He turned back to Michael. “Ellie really won’t take no for an answer. Shall we load him up?”

  “I can get it. There’s a stretcher in the back of my truck. I’ll need someone to ride with me to keep him calm.”

  “I’ll go,” said the girl Sarah.

  Her father looked uneasy.

  Michael read him easily, a concerned father unwilling to send his daughter with a stranger. He nodded at Wyatt.

  Wyatt nodded back. “No offense, but someone else should go, too.”

  “I’ll go,” said the bombshell beside him. “I’m worthless in the kitchen, and Ellie will need your help.”

  Michael couldn’t help tensing. “Whoever is coming, get ready. I’ll be right back.”

  The sex goddess followed him. “Look, it doesn’t have to be awkward.”

  He revolved, lifted his brows. “No?”

  Mischief sparked. “Hey, just because I’m not used to rejection doesn’t mean I’m too soft to handle it.” She cocked her head. “Why did you, anyway?”

  Even mussed up and covered with dog hair, she would make a eunuch crave her. “Because I have a sense of self-preservation?” He grinned as he said it.

  She laughed. “You think I’m dangerous?”

  “No question,” he replied. “And guaranteed trouble.”

  “So what’s your point?”

  He laughed. “Let’s get that dog taken care of. You can flirt with me later.”

  “That wasn’t flirting,” she muttered. “Maybe you’ve been hanging with animals too long if you couldn’t tell that.”

  He smothered a grin. “Maybe I have.” He winked and left.

  * * *

  “Here. Let me put him in the kennel in the back.”

  Sexy—er, Laken, he reminded himself—curled her arms around the dog. “I’ll hold him.” She hovered like a protective mom, even though her face was bone-white.

  “It’s for his protection and safety. There’s no seat belt for him, and your movements are jostling him.”

  She seemed stricken but slowly handed him over. “Can I sit back there with him?”

  A soft heart beneath the bravado. “If you want.” He set the dog inside the crate. “Here you go, guy.” He stroked the dog’s head, the brown eyes, as always, getting to him. There was so much in the human-run world that animals didn’t understand.

  But so very many more important things they did. Animals didn’t lie. They didn’t betray.

  “I’m gonna get you fixed up, fella.”

  Laken climbed up and stuck a finger inside the kennel to stroke the dog.

  “Be careful. Hurt animals can bite.”

  Ire made the blue eyes spark. She turned back to the dog. “You know I won’t hurt you, right?” she cooed. “I’m so, so sorry you got hurt.”

  The pup scooted closer but whimpered at the pain.

  She raised pleading eyes to Michael. “Please hurry. Can’t you give him something for the pain?”

  He stiffened. He wasn’t a pill-pusher. “Pain serves a purpose. He’ll restrict his movements because of it.” When she frowned, he elaborated. “Animals don’t harbor illusions or set unrealistic goals. They live in the now.”

  She gnawed at that lush lower lip. “You’re sure he’ll be okay?”

  “I’m good at what I do.”

  “A vet,” she said slowly, memories of that night rising between them.

  “And you?”

  “Laken’s a lawyer,” said Sarah as she climbed in the passenger seat.

  “Huh.” He’d have to think about that. He closed the door and got in to drive.

  * * *

  Inside the clinic, Michael choked back a laugh. A vet tech, Laken wasn’t. She went sheet-white as he sutured a cut and wrung her hands while he bandaged the leg. “You don’t have to watch. You can wait out front,” he reminded her.

  She focused on the dog’s head and kept stroking, however her fingers trembled. “I’m fine.”

  He shook his head and continued his ministrations. “He’s really going to be okay. I’ll keep him overnight and monitor him.”

  “But you’ll come have dinner with us first, right?” Sarah asked.

  “Do you think you should?” Laken asked. “I mean…he might need you.”

  He stifled a grin. Could this be the same fire-breathing hellion he’d met that night? “He won’t be the only patient in here. I have another dog and two cats. And I’ll be checking in, as will the tech.”

  “Ellie’s counting on you to show up to eat. She’ll notice if you don’t.” She hesitated. “I could stay here with him.”

  She had heart, he’d give her credit. “He’ll be fine. He’s going to sleep for a few hours, at least.”

  “But—”

  “He’s not your dog, right? He’s a stray? He’s not micro chipped, and he’s undernourished.”

  “None of the Prestons have ever seen him before.” Laken gnawed at her lower lip. “What will happen to him?”

  “I’ll keep him until he’s well, and I can put up a note on the bulletin board up front. Maybe someone will adopt him without him having to go to a shelter.”

  “Shelter?” Her head snapped up. “He can’t—”

  “Are you offering to take him?”

  “I live up above the club. I can’t—what would I do with a dog?”

  “That club?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “What of it? And why can’t you keep him?”

  “Well, first of all, this isn’t my practice, I’m just minding it for a friend. I don’t know where I’ll be once he returns. And I already have a dog.” Not that he wouldn’t take another one, but she had him curious about what she would do. He had a feeling this was way outside her comfort zone.

  Indecision ranged over her features.

  “There’s no need to decide yet. He’ll be fine here for a few days.”

  “I…” Her eyes whipped to his. “What if nobody adopts him?” Her gaze was stricken. “Will they…”

  “I would make sure he went to a no-kill shelter.”

  Relief relaxed her features for a second. Then she tensed again. “But he’d still live in a cage, right?”

  “They get exercised. It’s not prison.”

  “I don’t—I can’t—I work a lot of hours.”

  And party a lot of hours, too, he thought. “It’s better not to take a dog into a lifestyle that’s not suited to them. You’d both be miserable.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You can’t leave a dog locked up in an apartment all day—it makes them neurotic. They need exercise and stimulation. It’s cruel to do otherwise. Owning a pet is a big commitment.”

  Her discomfort was evident, and he cut her some slack. “He’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” He finished the wrapping. “Okay, we’re done. I’ll set him up with some water, but better not to feed him right now. His system could be upset by the anesthesia and the antibiotics.”

  “Dinner will be ready,” Sarah said. “I’ll call my mom and tell her we’re on our way.”

  Laken lingered in front of the crate.

  “I promise I’ll check on him,” he told her.

  All traces of Ms. Sexy were gone when she faced him. “Are you sure he doesn’t need…?”

  “I should have known you were a lawyer. Not real trusting, are you?”

  That got her back up. “Fine. He’s not my concern, anyway. I’ll pay the bill, though.”

  “I’m not worried about the bill,” he snapped and held the door open. “Your friend is waiting.”

  “I’m still paying it.” With a toss of her head, she sashayed through the door.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Ellie
leaned back, groaning, assessing the damage. Cook for three days, and in forty-five minutes, it was demolished. A woman’s lot in life.

  She smiled, happy at the buzz of conversation around her. As stomachs filled, however, the voices slowed, the gaps lengthened in amiable companionship.

  Except for Laken, who kept fidgeting. Michael, the vet, sat beside her, darting glances at her when she wasn’t looking—and she did the same. The behavior was so unlike her friend—Laken was fearless when it came to men.

  There was an odd sense between them, something more than two people who’d just met.

  But maybe they’d simply bonded over the dog. Michael had such a presence about him, an aura that made you know you could trust him, that he’d be solid and reliable. His touch with the injured dog had been so gentle and assured.

  Not at all Laken’s type.

  They’d returned just as the meal was being served, and he hadn’t left her side. He’d watched her with eyes Ellie didn’t think Laken had really noticed—eyes that studied Laken when she wasn’t looking, as though he saw beneath the hard edges.

  Ellie cocked her head. Wouldn’t that be something? He went so far against Laken’s preferred type—the bad boy she would use and discard—that Ellie wondered if Laken had even registered that he hadn’t taken his eyes off her since they were first introduced.

  Come to think of it, Michael looked like nothing so much as a man who’d been poleaxed right between the eyes.

  She’d have to talk to Wyatt. Michael seemed to be much too nice a man to have Laken use spike heels on his heart. If she even deigned to give him the time of day, she’d use him and discard him like she did everyone else.

  But then Ellie noticed how, despite the pinch of annoyance on her face, Laken seldom turned to talk to anyone else. She flirted and parried, but every thrust of her sharp wit bounced right off the handsome vet. He simply smiled in that good-natured way of his and kept going.

  As her grandmother used to say, she’d ‘have to study on this.’ Michael Cavanaugh might just be exactly what Laken needed.

  She stifled a chuckle. Oh, but Laken would give him hell.

  “What’s so funny, Mom?” Davy spoke from his seat next to her.

  Ellie straightened. “Oh, just thinking about people and how funny they can be.”

  “Like Christy? Only she’s not funny, she’s making me sick.”

  “Why?”

  “Look at her, Mom. She’s practically drooling on your art teacher.”

  Ellie glanced over where Christy sat by Saxon. She’d placed them there, thinking that with Sam on one side and Christy on the other, it wouldn’t matter whether or not Saxon spoke. He’d have plenty of entertainment.

  Her daughter’s and Saxon’s heads were close together as they shared a joke. Saxon threw back his head and laughed, his strong, tanned throat exposed. He reached over and ruffled Sam’s hair.

  Christy’s smile was openly adoring.

  Ellie’s hands clenched in her lap. Saxon was beautiful in his laughter.

  “Good grief, Mom.”

  Ellie shook off the twisting of her stomach. “It’s natural for her to be charmed, Davy. Saxon’s a handsome man.”

  “You think so, too? More handsome than Dad?”

  Ellie pulled her gaze away from the sparkle in Saxon’s eyes. She turned to her oldest son. “Of course not, honey. I love your father.”

  “I don’t like it, Mom. Why couldn’t Sylvie find you some old lady to teach you?”

  Ellie smoothed Davy’s collar. “Because Saxon is the right teacher for me.”

  “There are lots of others, I bet.”

  Ellie frowned. “What’s this about, Davy?”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “Saxon’s done nothing to you. He’s a lonely man.”

  Davy pushed back from the table. “You have a family, Mom.” With quick strides, he left the table.

  Ellie started to follow him, but just then, Wyatt came up beside her. “What’s gotten into him?”

  “He doesn’t like Saxon being here.”

  Wyatt looked startled, then his gaze turned assessing. He glanced back to where the blond giant held his daughter’s rapt attention. “He’s a little old for Christy.”

  “He wasn’t worried about Christy and Saxon, though he is disgusted.”

  “What was he worried about, then?”

  “He wants me to take lessons from an old lady.”

  “Protecting his mother’s virtue?” Wyatt chuckled.

  “Is it so unthinkable that someone would find me attractive?”

  Wyatt sobered. “Of course not. But last time I looked, you were in love with me.” His eyes scanned hers, waiting.

  She slipped her hands around his waist. “I still am.”

  “Remember how Christy hated my new secretary?”

  Ellie smiled. “Yeah, she called her a barracuda.”

  Wyatt rested his chin on the top of her head. “I guess in this day and age, kids worry more about divorce than we did. A lot of their classmates come from broken homes.” He pulled back and looked at her. “We’re dinosaurs, Mrs. Preston. Still happily married after nineteen years.”

  She looked into the green eyes she loved. “Ava and Tom are worse dinosaurs than us. They’ve been married twenty-eight years, I think.”

  “Practically ancient. Goodness, how do they still see anything in each other?”

  A hot retort sprang to her lips until she saw the twinkle in his eyes. “Force of habit?”

  “Well, you’re one habit that’s mighty hard to break, Miss Ellie.” He rocked her against him.

  “Hey, stop that, you two,” Laken called out. “You’re in polite company. There are children present.”

  “They do that stuff all the time,” Sam piped up. “We just ignore them.”

  Wyatt swung around as laughter swept the table. “Hey, we’re married. It’s legal.” He bent toward Ellie, intent on a kiss.

  Ellie caught sight of Saxon’s face before Wyatt’s head obscured him. For just one split-second, the two faces merged.

  With a tiny shiver in her heart, Ellie poured everything she had into kissing her husband.

  * * *

  Ava leaned back against Tom’s chest, pulling the mass of her hair over one shoulder so he could still see the Cowboys play.

  “Mom?” Grayson spoke from behind the refrigerator door. “Where’s the whipped cream?”

  “Gray, you can’t already be hungry,” his sister complained. “We ate for hours.”

  Siobhan’s young man, Mitch Carroll, smiled. “Of course he can. He’s a growing boy.” He glanced over at Ava for permission. “In fact, maybe I’ll go help him. Is that all right, Mrs. Sinclair?”

  “Ava,” she corrected. “And of course it is. Make yourself at home here, Mitch.”

  Siobhan watched him walk away, eyes glowing. Seeing her mother’s regard, she blushed faintly. Her shoulder-length pageboy of Tom’s chestnut hair swung about her shoulders. With a gesture of her head toward the porch, she extended a silent invitation to her mother.

  Ava sat up, and Tom’s head moved to see around her, his hand gripping hers as she rose. With a quick flick of his eyes, he questioned, “What’s up?”

  Ava leaned over and kissed him soundly. “Just girl talk. Keep my place warm.”

  Tom smiled absently, his mind already back on the game.

  She joined her daughter on the wide porch of their Craftsman-style home, sitting beside her on the porch swing. She looked out at her tree-shaded neighborhood, an odd hodgepodge of restored Victorians and student bungalows just north of the University of Texas. Placing one arm around Siobhan’s shoulders, she hugged her oldest.

  “He’s wonderful, sweetie.”

  Siobhan smiled, sighing. “I know. I keep thinking I’ll wake up.”

  Ava laughed. “I never have. I hope you don’t have to, either.”

  Her daughter turned to her. “How did you know, Mom? How were you sure Daddy was the one?”<
br />
  Ava couldn’t help the broad smile on her face. “Sweetheart, I didn’t know. I just hoped. And worked hard to make it so.”

  Siobhan’s eyes were troubled. “I want what you and Daddy have. I don’t want to pick wrong.”

  “Oh, Siobhan,” Ava sighed. “If only things were that certain.” She chuckled. “I suspect that if you’d asked anyone we knew when we got together, they’d have assumed we’d have split up years ago. I don’t think two people were ever so opposite.”

  “Weren’t you afraid?”

  Ava shook her head, pushing the swing with one foot. “One really good thing about being young and stupid is that you don’t think so much.” She turned to her daughter again. “We just…did it. Just took the leap.”

  “But it could have turned out so badly.”

  “Sweetheart, don’t assume that just because you see us now when we’re so close, that we were always so close. We used to have some rip-snorting fights. You were around for some of them—don’t you remember?”

  “A few. They scared me. I was afraid you’d get a divorce.”

  Ava laughed. “We’re both too stubborn to give up.”

  “And you love each other too much.”

  “That we do, honey.” Ava nodded. “That we do.” Then she gazed fiercely at her daughter. “But we still don’t agree on much of anything. We just work very hard at loving one another, at caring for one another. Your father is my best friend, but we’ve had to work off a lot of rough edges. Every marriage does. But if you love enough, if you want it enough, you can get past them.”

  “So many marriages fail.”

  “I think that a lot of people give up too quickly. They want it to be magic, want it to be perfect. They don’t want to do the work.” She grasped her daughter’s hand. “It’s hard work, Siobhan. Really hard, sometimes. But you make a commitment and you keep it. In the end, that’s what it’s all about—love and commitment and keeping your promises. About still caring when you’re so tired from being up all night with a crying baby and worrying about how you’ll pay the rent, that you want to just run away into the night screaming. Or you want to pick a fight.

  “But instead, you reach down for one more last bit of strength and determination. You don’t give up. You don’t pick that fight. Instead, you hug. Or maybe you do fight, but you never, ever go to bed mad. You keep going until the steam escapes and the fury abates, and you can talk about what made you so mad. Then you laugh and you kiss…and you get up the next day and start again.