“There are plenty of social activities here. The Hickory Festival is in two weeks. Competitors come from all over Texas for the pecan pie competition. Then there’s the beauty pageant.”
Helen ignored him and plunged ahead, sugary sympathy disguising the ever-present steel in her voice. “You know Merle and I understand you’re not in Ulysses by choice. We know you had no way of foreseeing your father’s illness. But there’s no reason to force Bernadette to stay there and share in the misery. I’m sure once you take a look at Smithston’s fall schedule, you’ll see what Bernadette’s missing and change your mind. I’ll bring a copy this afternoon.”
“This afternoon? You mean tomorrow afternoon.”
“Change of plans, dear. Merle’s business meeting in San Antonio has been moved to tomorrow morning at nine.” Before the news could sink in, she rushed on, “Merle and I are flying in. We’ll be there in a little over two hours. In fact, he’s waving me off the phone right now. Bye, dear. I can’t wait to meet that new Dalton governess you hired.”
Two hours. He had all of two hours to find a governess. Otherwise, he’d have a hell of a fight on his hands. Not that Helen could do more than cause a stink, but what a stink, and Bennie would be caught right in the middle.
He couldn’t allow that. No, he wanted Bennie happy. That meant keeping Helen happy and finding a governess. Fast.
He glanced down at his stolen wallet, each bill accounted for, tucked safely away along with his credit cards. His Visa and American Express Gold Card were missing, but he knew Lucky hadn’t swiped them. The nanny had obviously pocketed those for frequent use, which was fine by him. He’d already reported the cards missing, and should she try to use them, she would find herself behind bars.
Tyler closed the wallet and trailed his thumb along the smooth leather edge as Lucky’s image pushed into his thoughts.
She had the most incredible eyes, so warm and brown, framed by long, thick dark lashes. Though it wasn’t her eyes he really remembered. It was the way she’d looked at him with those eyes. He could still feel her gaze on his bare back, sliding down, making his skin tingle...
Too bad he couldn’t hire her. But it would never work. Those wide-eyed looks, all that innocence she oozed, were all part of a well-practiced act. Otherwise he wouldn’t find himself so attracted to her, would he? And the last thing he needed was a seductress under his roof.
Then again, Ulysses was thirty minutes away. It would take him an hour to drive to town and back, which left only an hour to find some unknown somebody. The odds weren’t in his favor. Ulysses had all of six hundred and eighty-two citizens, all fine upstanding people as nice as could be, but he was fairly certain none of them would be more qualified than Lucky, seductress or not.
Besides, she was intelligent. He’d seen that in her eyes amid all the hunger and innocence, and it was only for one evening. Come morning, Helen and Merle would be on their way to their business meeting.
Yes, he needed Lucky. In more ways than one, he thought.
That’s why it would never work. This was business, purely business, and Tyler shouldn’t be having these kinds of urges over a business acquaintance—a tomboyish, bigmouthed acquaintance. Besides, Helen wanted a fancy governess from a fancy agency, and she could smell an ordinary, working-class Joe quicker than a bloodhound could scent out a rabbit—
His daughter’s high-pitched squeal cut into his thoughts, brought him up out of the chair and over to the window. He stared across the yard to the huge red and white barn where Bennie stood out front wielding a water hose.
“I can nail you with one shot, mister!” She smiled and turned the spray on Jed, a wiry old man who’d been at the ranch as long as Tyler could remember. Jed returned fire and Bennie squealed, water soaking her from head to booted foot until she looked like a wet puppy, all scrawny and vulnerable, and happy. Yes, she looked happy, and Tyler felt as if someone had landed a boot up against his backside.
A few seconds later, he headed out back to tell Bennie about Helen’s change of plans. Then he’d make Miss Lucky Myers the offer of a lifetime.
For Bennie, he reminded himself again.
AFTER DEVOURING the titles on all the old movie reels, Lucky moved on to the numerous bookshelves.
Breeding Cattle. How to Make a Winner. So Mr. Big Bucks was in the cattle-prostitution business. Obviously it paid better than most escort services if this spread was any indication—
“Bennie!” The shout brought Lucky over to a huge bay window overlooking the back of the house in time to see Tyler Grant face off with a young girl, no more than twelve or thirteen. The Terminator with a water hose.
She aimed her weapon, but Tyler was too quick. The spray barely soaked the back of his shirt before he moved, hefting her over his shoulder in a head-on tackle. She shrieked, squirming in a fit of laughter as he attacked her with tickling fingers.
Lucky smiled, despite the pang of longing that shot through her for a naked stranger who looked really great in a wet shirt—
“Hold it right there, snake woman!”
The book she’d been holding sailed to the floor. Lucky whirled, to find herself staring down the barrel of a very lethal-looking shotgun.
“Now hold on a minute.” Her gaze flew to the old man brandishing the gun. Snow-white hair covered his head, the same color as the beard that hid half his face.
Colonel Sanders. She was being attacked by Colonel Sanders.
For a shocking moment, her gaze riveted on the bandages covering both his eyes.
Make that a blind Colonel Sanders.
Panic bolted through her and she forced a calming breath. If he couldn’t see, he couldn’t aim, and that meant she had a chance. “Just calm down, mister. You—you’ve got the wrong person.”
“Shut your lyin’ mouth! You might’ve put one over on my boy, but I knew you was rotten from the get go, missy.”
The tip of the barrel wavered, and Lucky inched sideways several feet. Her thigh came up hard against the glass case holding the James Dean boots and hat. Wood creaked and the man swung around. The barrel streaked through the space between them and crashed into the shelf holding the old movie projector.
Wood splintered, the projector hit the floor, metal pieces clanged and rolled, and the man let loose a string of violent curses.
“Dadblame it, sonofa—”
“Dad! Put that gun down!” Tyler strode through the doorway, his hair a tangled, dripping mess. He had a white towel draped around his neck, his shirt and trousers soaked and streaked with mud.
She sniffed, wrinkling her nose. It smelled more like fertilizer or horse doo—
“Good Lord,” breathed the short pudgy woman with gray hair and wide gray eyes who rushed in after Tyler.
Tyler’s eyes flashed anger and outrage as he reached the old man. His hands went to the wayward shotgun and the gnarled fingers gripping the handle. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to give this yellow-bellied thief what she deserves.” The old man resisted, playing tug-of-war with his larger, obviously stronger son. “She thought she could put one over on us, boy. But I ain’t letting her get away with it.”
“Give up the gun right now,” Tyler ordered, the words soft, yet steely. “I mean it.”
“Aw, go on and take the blasted thing.” The old man released the weapon and let Tyler steer him to a chair. “Tried to warn you, boy. You cain’t trust no woman who calls a fourteen-point buck precious. It just ain’t natural.”
“Give me the keys to the gun cabinet, Dad.”
“Didn’t get it from no gun cabinet.” The old man crossed his arms, his mouth set in a pout that resembled a stubborn child’s. “That there’s my own personal protection. Keep it under my bed for just such emergencies.”
“You could’ve caused one hell of an emergency if you’d pulled the trigger.” When the old man held his stance, Tyler added, “Give them to me.” The man looked ready to refuse, but after a long, tense moment, he dropped
the keys into Tyler’s outstretched hand. Something dangerously close to regret flashed in Tyler’s eyes before he smiled. “Keep him out of trouble, Mabel,” he told the pudgy woman.
“Come on, Ulysses. I just made up a batch of stew.”
“Now that’s the best thing I heard all day.” Ulysses grasped the woman’s hand and pulled to his feet, a smile creasing his face. “You wouldn’t happen to have some fresh-baked biscuits to go with it?”
“And fresh buttermilk to drink.”
“Hot damn, Mabel! My eyes might be shot, but my taste buds are in their prime.” The old man’s excitement fled as he cast a frown over his shoulder. “Don’t turn your back on her. And keep her away from my Jimmy Dean hat and boots.” Then he shook his head. “Precious. Of all the blasted things...”
“Don’t mind him.” Mabel ushered the man out the door. “He’s cranky because one of the cable channels is running a twenty-four-hour Clark Gable marathon and he’s gonna miss it.”
“Oh, well, that explains it then,” Lucky said, still dazed from the past few minutes.
“Aw, who cares about those old shows,” the man grumbled.
“You do, you stubborn old coot,” Mabel said. “Now come on.”
“Are you all right?” Tyler’s hand went to her arm, his thorough gaze combing her from head to toe.
“I—I think so.” She shook her head. “Who was that?”
“That was Tyler Ulysses Grant the first, founder of this ranch and one pigheaded old man. He had double eye surgery a few months ago to correct a retina impairment. When the police car rolled up earlier, everybody here thought Hank had nabbed the thief. My father’s a little hot-tempered and I guess he thought he’d get a jump on the justice system. He only meant to scare you.”
“Mission accomplished,” she mumbled, pulling in a deep breath. “But I think my heart is beating again.” Not beating. Pounding. A frenzied rhythm that had started the moment Tyler’s long lean fingers had touched her to check for injuries.
Fingers that were still touching her.
“I’ll be all right,” she said, expecting him to let go. He didn’t for a long, drawn-out second. Something simmered in his eyes. That unreadable something she’d seen earlier.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re ready to swallow me whole.”
A grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “Now there’s a thought. Though, I have to admit, I usually like to take my time, savor each bite...” His voice trailed off as he studied her with those damnable eyes of his. A drop of water slid down his temple, his strong jaw, and Lucky had the inexplicable urge to reach out and catch the drop. Taste it. Taste him...
He wiped his face with the edge of his towel and Lucky cleared her throat.
“I’m sorry about you getting ripped off and everything. If you’ll give me the eighty bucks your nanny stiffed me for, I’ll be on my way. I’ve got a lot of work waiting.”
He gave her the once-over, from the top of her baseball cap-covered head, to the ends of her sneakers, before leveling a stare at her. “So how about working for me this evening?”
Before her hormones could start harmonizing “Hallelujah,” she blurted out, “I don’t think there’s a big need for taxi drivers out here in Timbuktu.”
“Ulysses,” he corrected. “And I don’t need a driver. I need a nanny for my twelve-year-old daughter.”
She couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled on her lips. “Do I look like a nanny to you?”
“Not now, but with a little work you could pass. Besides, it’s just for a few hours. One evening. The woman you picked up in your cab was my governess, or was supposed to be. She was here all of two days before she cleaned out my safe and took off. Now I need a temporary replacement.”
“Aren’t you afraid I might warp your daughter or something? I mean, I know I won’t, but you don’t. You just met me.”
“You returned a wallet full of credit cards and money, without even deducting your cab fare. That says a lot.” Frustration darkened his eyes to arctic blue. “Look, Lucky. Here’s my situation. My in-laws are arriving today. If they find out about what happened with the real nanny, I’ll never hear the end of it. All I need is someone to pose as a nanny tonight while they’re here. Just a warm body.”
“No.” Not that her body wasn’t warm at the moment. It was. Dangerously warm. “I’m sorry about what happened and I wish I could help you out, but I can’t. Why don’t you call a service or take out an ad or something?”
“No time. I need someone now. Someone I can trust.” He raised desperate eyes to her. “I’m willing to pay, Lucky. Just one evening. I’ll teach you enough to get you through a few hours of conversation, my mother-in-law will be happy and I’ll be off the book.”
“How much?”
“Five hundred dollars,” he said.
“Make it a thousand.”
“I thought you didn’t want to do this.”
“I didn’t say that. If the price is right, I’ll do anything—within reason, of course. This seems reasonable. A little kooky, but hey, you’re the one with the thousand bucks and I’m neck-deep in debt.”
“What kind of debt?” He looked suspicious. “It isn’t anything illegal—”
“Nursing-home payments. I have a granny—my dad died last year and I don’t have any other family left—and she’s at this really expensive nursing home in Houston. Anyhow, they’ve been letting me slide on the payments since my dad passed away, but now I have to bring the account current. So it’s a thousand bucks, or no deal.”
“Okay,” he said after a long moment. “A thousand bucks. One evening. You eat dinner, pretend to be the nanny, spend the night and say goodbye to my in-laws at breakfast That’s it.”
“What about my cab fare?”
“A thousand dollars, plus the cab fare.”
“And I want half my money up front.”
“For someone desperate, you sure make a lot of demands.” He nodded. “I’ll have to go to the bank.” He glanced at his watch. “You can ride to town with me, and I’ll drop you by Earline’s beauty shop. She can get you fixed up while I take care of things at the bank.”
“What about your wife? Since I’m playing this little role for your in-laws, don’t you think she might want to give me a look-over before you hire me?”
“She certainly would,” he replied. “But she passed away a couple of years ago. A car accident.”
Yes!
Yes? What kind of morbid person was she? He’d just admitted a tragedy to her. Granted, a tragedy that made him unattached, but still a tragedy.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t. Now, first things first, we need to get you out of those clothes.”
Whoa, baby. Was this guy a mind reader or what? She took a deep breath, tried to calm her raging hormones and fished a stick of gum from her pocket.
“No gum chewing.” He plucked the gum from her hand and motioned to her pocket. “Give it up.”
The money. She handed over the gum and tried not to stare longingly. Just think about the money.
“Do you need to get in touch with your boss and tell him where you’ll be?” Tyler asked, drawing her attention.
“I don’t have a boss. I’m an independent driver for Speedy Cab. Which means I work when I want to, pay a flat fee from each fare to the cab company and don’t work when I don’t want to.”
“Won’t someone be worried about you if you’re gone all night? Your family? Husband?”
“No,” she retorted, wishing his words didn’t bring the familiar ache to the pit of her stomach. “There’s just my granny. No other family. No husband.” Hint. Hint.
“Good—I mean, it’s good that we won’t be inconveniencing anybody with our little charade.” He smiled, that slow, lazy, naked-stranger smile that made her heart beat faster and her body go from warm to blazing hot.
Of course, his smiles d
idn’t mean anything, she told herself a few minutes later as she followed him down the hall toward the guest room. The faded denim of his jeans pulled and tugged at all the right places as he walked and Lucky tried to fix her gaze at a point just above his shoulder. She had no doubt that he flirted with every woman. Some men were like that. They oozed sex appeal.
Not that anyone had done any oozing in her direction, mind you. Which was all the more reason for her to take the job. Lucky had quite a few things to learn in the man-woman department if she ever wanted to find that special someone, settle down and have herself an honest-to-goodness family. She intended to finish school first, but meanwhile, she could polish her manhunting skills.
Since Tyler Grant seemed pretty good at attracting the opposite sex, maybe she could learn a thing or two from him while she played nanny to his daughter. How to flirt, at least. He was a master at that, and once she returned to the real world, a push-up bra could only do so much.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, after Tyler had showered and changed, he stood in the guest-room doorway and stared at the woman standing near the brass bed. A knock-’em-dead woman.
The baseball cap lay discarded atop one frilly Victorian-lace pillow. Jeans, sneakers and T-shirt lay in a heap near the floor-length mirror.
His gaze fixed on the creamy expanse of skin at her ankle, up one sweetly curved calf, then knee, before the image disappeared beneath the hemline of a straight black skirt that hugged every inch of thigh and hip to perfection.
“You can’t really mean to make me wear this?” She fingered the extravagant lace cuff of the cream silk blouse she wore, her gaze going to the plunging vee, before sweeping down to the very fitted skirt. “I feel like an overstuffed sausage.”
“The other nanny left those behind. She was a little smaller than you.”
“Obviously, Sherlock.”
His gaze swept her up and down. “I’ll go get Mabel. A few safety pins and a seam ripper, and she can fix whatever ails you. Once she’s done, you’ll look like quite a lady.”
Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter) Page 4