She hurried into the living room, took out the ring that she’d shoved into the foyer table drawer. Thankfully, this time Daniel didn’t follow her, and when Claire returned to the kitchen, he was standing there, the look on his face indicating he’d just stepped in something he was going to regret.
Claire took his hand, slapped the box in his palm. “If you try to leave it again, I’ll flush it down the toilet. Understand?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “And there won’t be any more proposals or any more conversations with Riley about me. Got that?”
Daniel looked at the ring. Then at her. “You’ll never find another man who loves you as much as I do.”
“I know.” And that broke her heart.
The first tear made it down Claire’s cheek before he even walked out the door.
* * *
RILEY HAD DONE something to get his mind off Claire. And it had actually worked better than he’d thought it would.
Of course, nothing was going to erase Claire from his mind. She was in every corner of it. However, for a couple of hours he’d felt as if he had done something that he hadn’t screwed up.
“Well done,” the text from Logan had said.
High praise coming from Logan, and Riley knew it hadn’t been just lip service. Riley had negotiated a much better deal for the new cutting horses—championship lines, at that—than even Logan had anticipated. And Riley had played the military card to help him do it.
The owner of the horses, Frank Doolittle, had been Army all right. A Ranger, which made him special ops just like Riley. The first hour of their conversation had been about missions, and they’d discovered that Riley’s first mission and Frank’s last one had overlapped. They’d been in the same area, assisting with the same situation.
Small world.
That small world had bulldozed through some barriers that Logan had put up with his less than warm-and-fuzzy demeanor. Riley hadn’t been exactly warm and fuzzy, but the shared camaraderie of being with a fellow serviceman had no doubt played into Frank giving a sweet deal to McCord Cattle Brokers. With this deal, Logan just might have to change the name to Cattle and Horse Brokers.
The next step would be for Riley to interview some new cutters, the slang term for the cutting horse trainers. Frank had given him a few leads on that. Good thing, too, because the last couple that Logan had hired had already quit. Lucky had managed to talk one into staying before his brother took off, but with this new group of horses Riley had just bought, they’d need at least three more cutters.
Riley would work on hiring those cutters after his usual hours of PT. Between the work and the PT, he might actually be able to deal with the hurricane of thoughts and worries over Claire and his upcoming physical. He had to reduce those twenty-eighty odds.
For the physical anyway.
He wasn’t sure there were any odds when it came to Claire.
Riley would give her a few more hours and then call and... Well, he wasn’t sure what he would say to her yet. But maybe the right words would come to him during a long, sweaty workout.
Riley turned into the driveway that fronted his house, and he cursed when he saw a familiar car—Trisha’s. Oh, man. He hoped she hadn’t shown up half-naked again. But if she had, then she’d probably given Della and Stella an eyeful since they were home, too.
Steeling himself, Riley parked, went inside, but he was the one who got a shock. It was Trisha all right. Fully clothed, thank goodness. But she wasn’t alone. She was in the living room, sitting on the sofa and chatting with Jodi.
Both women stood and looked about as uneasy as Riley felt.
“Walter Meekins is still out with a gout flare-up,” Trisha said. “So I gave Jodi a ride.”
Yes, Riley knew all about Walter and his medical problems, but that didn’t explain why the women were here.
“Trisha was kind enough to drive me,” Jodi continued. “Daniel introduced us.”
That still didn’t explain much. Of course, Daniel had driven Jodi to the inn. Maybe to Calhoun’s, too, and since Trisha was clearly still in town, maybe they’d run into each other. And then proceeded to come to his living room together.
“I’ll wait outside,” Trisha added.
Uh-oh. There was only one reason for her to do that. Because she knew Jodi wanted to talk about things that Riley wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. Still, after all the time he and Jodi had spent together, he owed her a least a listening session.
Jodi didn’t say a word until Trisha was out the door. “Trisha said you’ve been spending time with Claire.”
Well, that put a quick end to the listening session. Riley groaned. “Is that really why you’re here—to ask me if I’m seeing Claire?” He hoped not because he didn’t know the answer to that himself.
But thankfully Jodi shook her head. “No, that was my attempt at small talk. I’m here to apologize for the bar brawl. For getting Claire and Daniel arrested, too.” She drew in a long breath. “I was just blowing off steam and some frustration over not getting to spend time with you.”
He groaned again but didn’t get to elaborate on that groan because Jodi continued. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not hung up on you or anything. Not my style. But I’m going to be around town a couple more days. I sublet my condo in DC, don’t have any other travel plans and I need to get some work done. I decided Spring Hill was just as good of a place to do that as anywhere else.”
No, it wasn’t, and his expression must have conveyed that because Jodi chuckled, patted his cheek. “This isn’t about you, Riley. I just wanted you to know that I’d be around in case we ran into each other. But only for a couple of days. Then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”
Riley figured after all this time, he should feel something. This was confirmation of their breakup. All he felt was regret that it hadn’t ended better between them, but what he couldn’t do was be sad that it was over.
“Be safe,” Jodi whispered to him, kissing him on the cheek. “And if you can’t be safe, then it means you’re probably having fun.”
Always the party girl. She dropped another kiss on his cheek, her mouth lingering there a moment as if to see if he was going to do something about her mouth being so close to his.
Riley didn’t.
“Goodbye, Jodi,” he said.
She flexed her eyebrows, looked disappointed for a couple of seconds and left. “Ready to hit Calhoun’s now?” she asked Trisha on the way out.
Apparently, Jodi had found a new friend. Good. Riley wished her only the best.
Feeling as if he’d lost some of the happy air he’d walked in with, Riley headed to his room to get his workout clothes. However, he didn’t make it far when his phone buzzed, and he saw the name on the screen.
Claire.
Part of him felt that tug in his stomach. A happy tug. But another part of him didn’t know what to say to her. Still, he wasn’t going to dodge her.
“Don’t say anything,” Claire said the moment he answered the call.
Well, good. That worked in his favor.
“I’m calling to invite you to dinner tomorrow night,” she continued. “Around seven. Can you come?”
That seemed like a trick question. Or one that could make this situation even messier than it was. For that reason alone, Riley knew he should say no.
He didn’t.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
And maybe by then he’d know what the hell he was going to do.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CLAIRE DIDN’T REMEMBER being this nervous before her first date. And this wasn’t even a date-date. It was dinner with Riley. But she couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Couldn’t keep the nerves at bay.
It was possible she was going to throw up.
She’d already gone ov
er all her lists. Not just the ones for the dinner itself and what to wear but also her conversation list. She needed to tell Riley that she no longer had Daniel’s ring. Nor was his proposal still on the table. She’d ended things with Daniel with absolutely no hope whatsoever that it meant anything for Riley and her.
Well, other than it meant she hadn’t gotten into bed with Riley while still in a semirelationship with Daniel. She didn’t need to have a woman-rule about that. It was just something she wouldn’t have done, but Riley perhaps thought she had.
She checked the roast again. The temp was right where it should be and would be ready to take out at six-fifty. Ten minutes from now, which meant there were still twenty minutes before Riley was due to arrive.
Too much fidgeting time.
She paced to the bathroom to check her hair again and feel for razor stubble on her legs. It was something she’d been obsessing about all day, though she doubted Riley would get his hand within touching distance of her legs. Still, it was something she would allow her slight OCD tendencies.
The knock at the door nearly caused her to shriek, but it wasn’t Riley. She looked through the glass sidelight window and saw someone she certainly hadn’t expected to see tonight.
Lucky.
“Did Riley send you?” Claire asked the second she threw open the door.
Lucky gave her a look for a second or two before he shook his head and pulled something from his shirt. A ball of yellow fur. “I brought something for you. This house just isn’t the same without a cat.”
Claire gave him a look, too, and it lasted for more than a second or two. “I’m already feeding a stray.” Which was a reminder that she’d have to figure out what to do with Whoa before she sold the place. “And my condo in San Antonio is pretty small.”
“The kitten’s pretty small, too, and I sort of saved her. She was on kitty death row at the pound.”
Claire was horrified that something so fluffy, tiny and...yes, cute, could have been on death row. But then, this was Lucky, and he had a silver tongue when it came to putting a spin on things.
“All right, I confess.” He put the fur ball in her hands. “I went there to chat with a friend, saw this little girl and thought she’d be perfect for Ethan. You can show her to him when he gets back from Livvy’s tomorrow morning.”
“How’d you know Ethan was at Livvy’s?” But she huffed to dismiss that question. Livvy and Lucky had slept together, and maybe they’d extended their one-night stand for another time or two.
“I might not be able to keep her,” Claire said, but Lucky was already bringing in something off the porch. A litter box, food, bowls and treats. He’d even included a scooper.
“Give her a trial run,” he suggested. “Keep her a couple of days, and if it doesn’t work out, call me, and I’ll see if my partner can take her.”
Claire knew his partner in the rodeo-promotion business. Dixie Mae Weatherall. A very colorful woman who dressed like Dolly Parton. She was built like her, too, but doled out profanity like a sailor’s cursing coach. Dixie Mae was originally from Spring Hill and had returned to town a time or two to visit her granddaughter who’d gone to Spring Hill High School. While Claire didn’t know the woman personally, Dixie Mae didn’t look like the cat-cuddling type.
“So, why would you think Riley had sent me?” Lucky sniffed the air. “He’s coming over, isn’t he? And you made him roast beef, those little baby potatoes, a salad and some key lime pie.”
“You can’t smell the salad.” She gave him the stink eye not just for the kitten that she couldn’t resist but because he’d likely heard all about the menu from Livvy. Though Claire couldn’t imagine that would make good pillow talk.
“Well, I just figured you’d serve some kind of green vegetable,” he answered, “and since I didn’t smell one, I guessed.”
Her timer went off, and she put the kitten on the floor so she could hurry to wash her hands and take out the roast.
“Don’t ask me about Riley,” she added. Best to cut him off at the pass. “Don’t ask why he’s coming over, either.”
He paused, watched her fuss with the roast, basting, rebasting, poking at it with a fork. “How about Daniel?” Lucky went on. “Can I ask about him?”
“No,” Claire answered.
Lucky made a sound as if everything was suddenly very clear, and then he went back into the living room and glanced out the window. No doubt checking for Riley. So did Claire.
“Riley and I had a chance to talk when I was driving him to and from his appointment at the base,” Lucky threw out there.
This was tricky territory. If she asked if Riley had talked about her, that would be opening up the conversation for her to talk about Riley. And she didn’t want to do that. For a man, Lucky was perceptive—she figured that was why he was so good with women. But she wasn’t ready to bare her heart just yet, so she just waited for him to continue.
“When he came out of that meeting with the colonel, Riley was pretty messed up. It took me a while to get it out of him, but he’s got two weeks to get his body and head together. If he can’t pass a physical then, they’ll give him some kind of review board. He didn’t explain what that was exactly, but judging from his expression, it’s the medical version of a firing squad.”
Oh. She’d known the meeting hadn’t gone well because Riley had ended up at her house. Drunk, no less.
“Two weeks,” she repeated.
Not much time at all, although it was better than she’d thought after Anna had called. After talking to Riley’s sister, Claire had thought Riley was already on his way out the door.
Instead of just being partially out.
“Of course, Riley’s all geared up to pass that physical,” Lucky continued. “He’s pushing himself.”
“Too much?” she asked.
Lucky shrugged. “It’d be the pot calling the kettle black if I said it was too much. After all, for fun I climb on the back of a seventeen-hundred-pound bull with an attitude problem and let him sling the crap out of me. Not literally,” he added with a wink.
Lucky had already moved from shrugging to winking and smiling, which meant he was trying to soften the news he’d given her.
Two weeks.
And Riley would do whatever it took—even if it would sling the crap out of him—to make sure he passed that physical.
Lucky still had a half smile when he reached out, rubbed her arm. “I’m worried about you if he passes whatever tests the Air Force will give him. Worried about him if he doesn’t. Picking up pieces isn’t my strong suit, but...”
He didn’t finish, didn’t have to. Someone was going to get hurt in this. Probably her. In fact, she wanted it to be her. She could heal from a broken heart. After a while, at least. But for Riley, failing this physical would crush him.
“I’m not sure picking up pieces is my strong suit, either,” she said.
“Yeah, but you’ve got a huge advantage. You can make things better just by being around him. For Riley, I mean. Not for you. Just know that no matter how this all shakes out, you can call me.”
No wonder the women flocked to him. Claire didn’t have an ounce of attraction in her body for Lucky, but he wasn’t just a charmer; he was a good listener and someone who cared more than he liked to let people know.
He also brought stupid gifts.
The kitten had stopped its sniffing and exploring and was now jetting around the living room at supersonic speed. No way could she keep it, but if she did, Bullet would be a good name for it.
When Lucky moved his hand from her arm, his attention landed on the mantel. And the journal. Judging from his suddenly tight mouth, Livvy had told Lucky about that, too.
Sheez, it was a wonder they had time for sex with all this talk about her.
What they wouldn’t have bee
n able to talk about was the almost sex that she’d had with Riley. That’s because Claire hadn’t told Livvy. And Livvy had given her the full-court press, too, to get details in not one but three phone calls. If Claire had spilled and then pinkie-sworn Livvy to secrecy, Livvy would have taken it to the grave. But Claire hadn’t wanted to share any of it.
When things crashed and burned between Riley and her, Claire didn’t want to have to explain why she’d done something as stupid as inviting him to her bed.
“What are you going to do about that?” Lucky asked, tipping his head to the journal.
“I don’t want to burn it.” Not yet anyway, but it did bring her to something she wanted to ask him. “Did you ever hear anyone mention a man named Rocky?”
It didn’t take him but a couple of seconds to piece together why she had mentioned that particular name. “That’s your father?”
She nodded. Shrugged. “I think he could be. If my mother was telling the truth in the journal.”
“You want me to ask around and find out if anyone’s ever heard of him?”
Did she? It suddenly seemed like a huge can of worms to open, and her heart was already on shaky ground. Still, Claire nodded again.
“All right,” he agreed. “I’ll ask but will be discreet. I’ll say it’s someone Dixie Mae used to know.”
That was the good thing about Lucky; he usually got it without having to be told. With the exception of kittens, that is. His boundaries were a little less defined when it came to totally inappropriate gifts like that.
He glanced out the window again. “I need to get out of here because Riley’s coming.”
Sure enough Riley was driving up.
Her heart thudded against her chest.
“I don’t want to spoil the mood,” Lucky said. “So, I’ll just head out back.” He took something from his pocket, put it in the drawer of the foyer table and hurried out the back before she could see what it was.
A cat toy probably.
She pulled open the drawer and looked. No cat toy.
Texas on My Mind Page 19