A Texas Soldier's Family

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A Texas Soldier's Family Page 17

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  “With what?” Garrett dropped both in the appropriate containers. “There’s no money left, remember?”

  They turned and walked back toward the bunkhouse. The sun was setting in a streaky pink-and-purple sky. The summer air was fragrant with the smells of sunshine, flowers and freshly mown grass. “I’m assuming, like your siblings, that at least some eventually will be recovered. If not, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Charities do it all the time.”

  His look let her know there was an even bigger obstacle.

  He dropped down onto the glider on the back porch, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

  Hope left the back door slightly ajar so she’d be able to hear Max if he needed her.

  Garrett massaged the back of his neck. “I don’t want to work in Dallas.”

  Where Max and I live.

  Another arrow to the heart.

  Hope forced herself to be a professional and continued lobbying for her client. “So hire a staff you like, move wherever you like.” Even if it is thousands of miles from me and Max. “Run the Lockhart Foundation from afar.”

  Garrett studied her. Finally he asked quietly, “Somewhere like Washington, DC?”

  Hope wasn’t sure whether the question was rhetorical—or a test. She did know she didn’t want Lucille to lose out on a great solution to their problems because their scandal manager had bungled it by pushing too hard, or not enough.

  “We did some checking,” she told Garrett carefully, trying not to notice how handsome he looked in his pale blue button-down, jeans and boots. “You can work for any charity you like, while still on active duty in the military, as long as there is no conflict of interest with your service to our country, and we would have the lawyers make sure that there would not be. The same would be true if you were to take the hospital job in Seattle.”

  He shook his head. “I already turned that down.”

  Although she had known he was leaning that way, she hadn’t realized he’d already made a final decision. Which made her wonder, what else hadn’t he told her? Just how much did she know about him? And why was she suddenly so unnerved? They were involved in a fling, nothing more. So, at least from his point of view, it shouldn’t really matter to her what his plans were, or vice versa.

  Telling herself to cut both of them a break, Hope forced her thoughts back to the CEO position. “It wouldn’t need to be a permanent situation, Garrett.”

  Just like their love affair, enthralling as it was, wasn’t permanent.

  “We just need a fresh face to go with a fresh start for the foundation. The board of directors can name you the interim CEO, to manage the implementation of new safeguards to prevent fraud in the future, and ease you out in a month or two, if you like.”

  His lips formed a more amenable line. “I can see where this would take a great deal of stress off my mother. Especially now, with her so exhausted.” He turned to look at Hope. “But why didn’t my mother broach this with me?”

  A tricky point. Hope remained standing, her back to the wooden porch post, her hands behind her. “She was going to, eventually. But she thought the initial discussion might be better received coming from someone else.”

  Garrett waited, obviously sensing there was more.

  With a reluctant sigh, Hope told him, “A pretty face.”

  He winced.

  “Her words, not mine.”

  Garrett rolled to his feet. “You didn’t mind being put in the middle of a family drama?”

  Holding her ground, Hope shrugged. “Sometimes it’s my job.”

  He ambled closer. “You’re sure this is what my mother wants?”

  He was so near, she had to tilt her head back to see into his face. “That, plus for all of her children to make good use of their inheritance from their father.”

  “I understand that for Chance and Wyatt. They’re ranchers. Although she’s the last person to admit it, Sage needs to be closer to her family. But for Zane—who’s in the Special Forces—and me...? My mom really expects me to reside in Laramie?”

  Was that even a possibility? Over a week ago he had been going to sell both his Laramie properties as soon as possible and move on.

  Unable to clearly read his mood or expression, Hope moved away from the post and paced to the far end of the porch, where gorgeous flowers had been planted in advance of the film crew’s arrival.

  Drinking in the sweet, sun-drenched floral scent, Hope turned back to face him.

  “If Laramie County is where you see yourself settling down, why not? You’ve already become involved in the community, in supporting one nonprofit organization here that you obviously feel passionately about—West Texas Warrior Assistance.”

  He downplayed his largesse. “I wrote a check.”

  It was more than that; she knew it, deep down. And so did he, if he would just admit it to himself.

  Irritated that he wasn’t telling her what was on his mind, she walked slowly toward him and said, “Chance showed me the specs on the office building you inherited on his phone yesterday afternoon, when you were in town clearing the trash out of the Victorian.”

  Another shrug of those powerful shoulders. Another poker face. “It’s got to be fixed up to be leased out again.”

  Leased, not sold. Hope moved even closer and dared to push a little more. “We all figured out what you were doing.”

  Abruptly, Garrett became cynical and guarded, similar to the man she’d first met on the plane from DC. “Yeah?” he challenged dryly. “And what is that?”

  “You’re turning the office building into a place to house the WTWA.”

  When he didn’t react, she pushed even more. “With what would appear to be an area for physical therapy and spaces on the upper floors for counseling and group therapy.”

  He remained where he was, legs braced apart, brawny arms folded in front of him. “So?”

  “An undertaking that large is going to need a medical director to pull everything together. And my guess is you want it to be you.”

  * * *

  GARRETT HAD NEVER met anyone who understood him the way Hope did. All week long he had been wondering if he was crazy, unrealistic, getting ahead of himself. Taking the guilt he felt over the way the foundation and his family had let Bess Monroe and the local former soldiers down by not fulfilling their promises, and turning it into what could be a life’s mission for him.

  He’d never been impulsive.

  But here he was, after a little more than a week’s time, taking his career objective and standing it on its head. And not just for the soldiers. No, there was a lot more driving this.

  “It’s true,” he admitted carefully, letting his gaze rove over Hope. Because she’d been working in her official capacity as scandal manager all day—albeit in a rural environment—she was dressed in a black and sky-blue print cotton skirt that molded her hips and waist and ended just above the knee. A sleeveless white cotton blouse had been paired with a blue cardigan and flats. A heart-shaped gold necklace and earrings gleamed against the creamy alabaster of her skin. As the urge to make love to her again grew, his body tightened in response. How he wished he could simply take her to bed, instead of having this uncomfortable conversation.

  But she wanted, needed to know where things stood with him, so...

  He looked her in the eye. “Whether I’m active-duty military or not, I want to keep helping soldiers.” No matter what I’m doing, I can see myself still wanting you. And wanting to be a part of Max’s life, too.

  “Which is why the job at Walter Reed held so much appeal to you, even if it meant reenlisting.”

  He walked close enough to inhale her sweet and sexy scent. “As much as I’d like to practice medicine there, I also know there will always be other doctors ready and willing to help out.”
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  “You have good doctors and nurses here in Laramie County, too.” They’d seen them in action—first caring for Max and then Lucille.

  “What we don’t have in Laramie County are programs designed exclusively for former military. In many ways, their needs are greater, because they are no longer in the armed services, yet many are still dealing with injuries and rehabilitation, and the process of making the transition back to civilian life.”

  Understanding lit her pretty emerald-green eyes. “You know you could make a difference.”

  He gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Which maybe is what my dad wanted all along when he left me the two properties.”

  She leaned into his touch. “For you to settle here?”

  The silky warmth of her skin sent another wave of desire roaring through him.

  He nodded. “And to help the people in Laramie County, where he and my mom grew up. He knew I had no ties to Dallas. That I’d never really fit there.”

  “But you do here.”

  Her compassion warmed him from the inside out. He let his hands slide to her shoulders. “Not sure I want to breed horses or bulls, like my brothers, but yeah... I like the Texas countryside a lot. And I like the house in town, too.”

  Smiling, she lifted her chin. “It’s close to the hospital. And the office building.”

  It would be a good place to settle down one day and bring up a family, he thought, his gaze roving the softness of her lips. But wary of getting ahead of himself, scaring off Hope, who thus far had only agreed to a temporary liaison with him, he reined in his innate need to just say whatever was on his mind, and kept silent about that. For now.

  Garrett decided to show her what he felt, instead.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Garrett took Hope in his arms and kissed her until her abdomen felt liquid and weightless and her knees grew weak. He brought her against him, length to length. His tongue swept her mouth until her whole body was quivering with urgent need, her heart thumping so hard she could feel it in her ears.

  And still he pressed her against him intimately, hardness to softness, until the last of her reservations regarding the wisdom of a short-term affair faded. She knew her task here would be over soon. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t make the most of what little time they had left.

  Still kissing her ardently, he undid the buttons on her blouse, unfastened the front closure of her bra. He bent to kiss her chin, the arch of her neck, the uppermost curves of her taut, tingling breasts.

  Around them, the sky grew dusky. The silence of the countryside as well as the warm, flower-scented air and faint summery breeze, provided a sensual setting.

  It would be completely dark soon.

  She didn’t care. She wanted him.

  Here. Now. Like this.

  Spinning him around with a boldness she had not known she possessed, she pushed him beneath the overhang, up against the side of the house. Her eyes locked with his and she began unbuttoning his shirt.

  He threaded his hands through her hair, watching. “And just when I thought you couldn’t surprise me,” he murmured.

  She rose on tiptoe and, parting the edges of his shirt, pressed her bare breasts against the muscles of his chest. Wreathing her arms around his neck, she smiled wickedly. “Oh, I’m full of surprises.”

  Why not, since this was likely their last hurrah?

  “Like this...” She fit her lips to his, opening her mouth, caressing his tongue, savoring the hot, masculine taste of him. Finding solace...finding strength...in tenderness.

  Aware she had never felt as soft and womanly and empowered as she did with him, she unclasped his belt buckle and undid the zipper on his jeans. He moaned as she cupped the hard, velvety length of him in her palm. Stroking. Reveling. Enciting.

  The next thing she knew, the back zipper of her skirt was coming undone, too. The floral fabric was sliding down over her knees. Pooling at her feet. A swift hook of his thumbs in the elastic and her panties followed.

  “Hey. I’m supposed to be in charge here,” she reminded him breathlessly.

  He grinned and lifted both hands in ready and willing surrender. “Then I guess I’ll have to let you have your way with me.”

  Deciding the only way to keep him where she wanted him was to trap him with her weight, she took his hand and directed him toward the glider.

  A quick tug sent his jeans down his thighs. Leaving them at mid-knee, thus trapping him right where and how she wanted him, she settled on his lap, her arms encircling his shoulders, her thighs planted tight on either side of his.

  “Now, where were we?” she murmured, kissing him again.

  “Here?” The tip of his manhood pressed against her. “Or here?” Seconds later, his calloused palms moved slowly, lovingly upward over her ribs. “Or maybe here...?” Her nipples tingled as he bent and kissed her breasts. She moaned again, yearning to have him inside her.

  This was torture.

  Sweet torture.

  But torture nevertheless.

  “Maybe I will let you call the shots,” she said, kissing him again, deeply, provocatively. “As long as it’s—” she shifted wantonly to show him what she meant “—right now.”

  He grinned, his lips nipping at hers even as one hand slid between them. He refused to let her rush. “Not yet.”

  Gripping her buttocks with one hand, he spread her thighs all the more, stroked her inner thighs, made his way through the nest of soft curls to the softer petals hidden within. She shuddered, gasped as he sent her libido into overdrive.

  And still he kissed her with maddeningly slow intensity until her blood flowed through her veins like liquid fire and her body pulsed and shuddered with exploding need.

  With a groan, he brought her down over top of him. Pushed up into her, hard. Seeming to know, as always, exactly what she wanted and needed, he lifted her against him, thrust deep, let her settle, thrust deep again. Faster, then slower. Then perfect, so perfect. Her soul soaring as high as her heart, he possessed her on his terms. Refusing to let her run away, set unnecessary limits, he brought her to life. Again and again. Until at last his control faltered, too. They surged together, finding a pleasure so deep and profound it seemed impossible. And Hope knew that maybe—just maybe—she’d been wrong. This wasn’t a short-term love affair, after all.

  It was one that would last.

  All she had to do was open up and take a risk.

  With her heart. With her life...

  And maybe Garrett would, too.

  * * *

  MORNING BROUGHT WITH it a flurry of activity. While Hope cared for Max and responded to journalists inquiring about the theft at the Lockhart Foundation, Garrett went into town to meet with Bess Monroe and the other founders of West Texas Warrior Assistance.

  At noon, he returned to the ranch with his siblings and recovering mother in tow.

  Not that Lucille had apparently accepted her physician’s advice to take it easy. A fact that appeared to be irking her own doctor son to no end.

  Garrett squared off with Lucille as she called everyone to the long plank table. “Mom, you just got home from the hospital. Now is not the time for a Lockhart Foundation board meeting.”

  Hope backed Garrett up. “I agree.”

  Although Lucille had slept nearly nineteen hours straight in the hospital before being released, the older woman still looked exhausted in a way that would take weeks to recover from. But, for the moment, as Lucille waved off her eldest son’s concern, she was as fiercely determined as ever. “Nonsense! There are things we need to talk about—and vote on. I won’t be able to rest until we do. And since my doctor’s orders were “rest, rest, and more rest...”

  With a groan, everyone sat down.

  Hope started to exit the ro
om.

  Lucille waved her back. “No, Hope, you need to stay.” Reluctantly Hope returned. “The first order of business is that I want you to be the new director of public relations at the Lockhart Foundation. A move that takes board approval.”

  Taken aback, Hope looked at the shocked faces all around her. “We probably should have talked about this beforehand. And you should have spoken with the board, too.”

  Had Hope not fallen hard for Garrett, she would have jumped at the opportunity. The fact that she was intimately involved with him made it all far too complicated.

  Lucille scoffed. “And give you a chance to refuse me? No way. You need a job with more flexible hours. Recovering from the scandal is going to continue to be an uphill climb and we require your expertise.”

  Hope slipped into the open chair next to Sage and looked across the table at Garrett. He was so still he could have been playing a game of statue.

  That did not seem like a good thing.

  She battled a self-conscious blush and swallowed around the rising ache in her throat. Suddenly, she had to know. “Did you instigate this?”

  He let out a long breath, shook his head.

  Disappointment roiled through her. Why, she didn’t know. Since when did she want anyone propelling her into a job that would likely upend her life more than it already had been the past few weeks?

  She had Max to consider.

  Well, that and her heart, which suddenly seemed to be in jeopardy, too.

  Garrett rubbed his hand across his jaw, as if it were taking everything he had to contain himself. Dropping his hand, he met the gazes of everyone at the table. “Hope’s right,” Garrett said in a low, clipped tone. “We probably should have spoken about this. Since finding the funds for her salary could be a problem, given the current state of foundation bank accounts.”

  “I have a solution for that, too,” Lucille announced with a brisk smile. “I’m selling my home in Dallas. Half the proceeds will go into a trust to fix up the Circle H, where I now plan to reside full time. That, plus the money from my retirement account will see me comfortably into old age. The other half will go to the foundation.”

 

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