Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter)

by Raye, Kimberly

  Tyler rubbed his tired eyes. It’s Almost over. The thought gave him the energy to push open the door to Bennie’s room.

  She sprawled across the bed on her stomach, her chin propped on one hand as she scanned the pages of Texas Horse and Trainer. The package Helen had brought her lay on the floor several feet away.

  “Hi, Daddy.” She smiled up at him.

  “Did you like your new outfit?”

  “Ugh, are you kidding? It’s white with roses all over it.”

  “I’m sure it’s pretty. Why don’t you try it, honey? You might like getting dressed up once in a while.”

  She gave a heavy sigh. “Okay, maybe I’ll try it.”

  “That’s my girl. Lights out in five minutes.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Before she could get in a word edgewise, he turned and pulled the door closed. Bennie would argue until doomsday if Tyler gave her the chance. And he tried never to do that, especially since she was so effective at wearing him down. When she turned a smile on him, he was a goner. Thankfully, she hadn’t figured that out yet The day she did, he’d be in deep trouble. But he was already in deep trouble, a voice reminded him when he heard a door open, then walked smack-dab into Lucky.

  “Oops, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her hands splayed against his chest as she caught herself. “I didn’t hear you out here.”

  “Obviously.” His gaze scanned her rumpled T-shirt and bare legs. Legs that went on forever. Long and tanned and...

  Tyler swallowed and forced his attention back to her face. “Do you always walk around half-dressed?”

  “I’m not half-dressed. Girls at the beach show ten times more than I’m showing, and I didn’t think it would matter what I was wearing in the privacy of my room.”

  “You aren’t in the privacy of your room. You’re out in the hallway.” His gaze lowered of its own accord, and he saw the goose bumps rise on her tanned skin. His fingers itched to reach out and ease her sudden chill.

  Chill? How could she be cold? He was burning up. Hot, and getting hotter by the millisecond.

  “I was just going to tiptoe to Bennie’s room and say good-night,” she told him. “I didn’t expect to find you lurking in the hallway.”

  “I wasn’t lurking. I was saying good-night myself.”

  “Good night then,” she said, but before she could dart past him, he felt himself leaning toward her.

  “Yes, it is a good night. A very good night...” He pressed against her, his chest brushing the tips of her breasts. A subtle touch, but it was still enough to send a jagged bolt of lightning down his spine, straight to his groin.

  She looked startled for a quick moment, then her gaze brightened with wonder. It was the cookie look all over again, and the realization sent another jolt through him.

  “I...I know this is harmless flirting and all,” she stammered. “But I don’t think this is really safe...”

  He watched her form the words, warn him about Helen and why their current stance was too provocative. But what she was saying didn’t really register. The only thing that stuck was the way she moved her lips. Full, soft lips he wanted so much to taste, needed to taste.

  “I really want to kiss you,” he told her.

  “Me? Really—”

  Then his mouth covered hers. He tasted her, nibbled the fullness of her bottom lip while she stood stiff as a board. Then she opened her lips on a sigh and her moment of surprise passed. His tongue tangled with hers, stroking, coaxing, and sensation skimmed down his spine, clear to his toes.

  It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, anything he should feel with this woman. There was nothing particularly special about her. Sure she was attractive, and she tasted really good... To hell with good. She was intoxicating, mesmerizing. Of course, Sherlock. She knew exactly what she was doing. She’d probably practiced this innocent-hungry thing on some other poor sap who’d fallen hook, line and sinker. But not Tyler. He wasn’t some gullible, hot-for-anything-in-a-skirt guy. No way. Not him.

  He deepened the kiss, drinking in her sweetness, and she melted against him. She was just so...innocent. So...hungry. And she wasn’t even wearing a skirt. Right. Tell that to the judge, sucker.

  From far away he heard the slam of a door, the low murmur of voices and he forced himself away from her.

  “Wow,” she said, her eyes closed, her head resting against the wall as if she didn’t have the energy to hold it up. “That was something.”

  Something, all right. But what?

  Nothing, he told himself as he spun on his heel and walked away from her. It was just chemistry between them. She was a mistress of seduction with all that wide-eyed charm, and he was just a lowly guy. A starving dog in the face of a juicy T-bone.

  Only for a little while. Thankfully, she would be gone tomorrow. He focused on that thought and strode outside to the barn. Some neighboring kids had been out joyriding on their daddy’s tractor and had plowed down a stretch of fence in the north pasture earlier that day. The last thing he wanted was to be out fixing fences, but he knew he didn’t stand a chance of sleeping and with cattle grazing that pastureland he had to get the barbed wire back up.

  Fifteen minutes later, Tyler urged his horse forward, across the dark pasture. He reached the broken fence and went to work stretching the loose wire and stapling it tight. Even with the ranch smaller than Tyler remembered, there was always work to do.

  Guilt shot through him. At one time this ranch had rivaled its namesake from the movie Giant, the half-million-acre spread dominated by Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor. But no more. The ranch had dwindled, a parcel of land sold here and there, until his father’s Reata was just a shadow of what it had once been, the herd nearly sold off.

  Tyler was doing his damnedest to change that. In less than two months since his return, he’d managed to track down several of the people who’d bought a piece of his father’s land. He’d purchased every last acre back, all except for a few acres here and there. He was so very close to seeing Reata exactly the way it had been before he’d left sixteen years ago. Before he’d broken his father’s heart by walking away.

  But past regrets were just that. Past. He was home, he was making up for lost time, reclaiming Reata and increasing the size of the herd. Things were falling into place. Now if he could just send Helen packing, her mind at ease that her granddaughter was becoming every bit the lady her daughter had been, he’d be sitting pretty.

  CAFFEINE. She needed caffeine.

  Lucky stumbled toward the kitchen the next morning, her eyes blurry, her neck stiff and her legs wobbly from a restless night in an unfamiliar bed. And let’s not forget the dreams. The sort that made your cheeks burn and your body crave a cold shower.

  But of course, the shower hadn’t helped a bit. Ah, but the caffeine. A little coffee, a diet soda, a piece of chocolate cake—the desperate woman’s cure-all.

  She adjusted the too-tight waistband of the black slacks she’d found in the guest room and promised herself she’d start a diet the minute she got home. Exercise, her conscience screamed, but she stifled the voice before it could summon any guilt. Lucky had long ago convinced herself that the walk to the refrigerator counted as exercise.

  She peeked into the kitchen to make sure the coast was clear. Although she was dressed like Nanny of the Year, she was in no hurry to run into anyone. She couldn’t think, talk, even smile until she’d revved up her system.

  “Bad night?” Tyler’s voice sounded behind her and she jumped.

  “Geez, don’t do that. You scared me.”

  “I scared you?” His critical gaze fixed on her and he fingered a wayward strand of hair that had slipped loose from the hairband she’d borrowed from Bennie. “I take it you’re not a morning person?”

  “I’m fine in the mornings,” she grumpily replied. “It’s the middle of the night I have trouble with.”

  “It’s 6:00 a.m.”

  “My point exactly. It’s still dark out. Morning doesn’t really start
for at least another two hours.”

  “For you. Here we’re up at five.”

  “Ugh,” she said, slumping against the wall, wishing he wasn’t standing so close and her head wasn’t pounding so hard. Or was that her heart? It couldn’t be her heart. Not this early. Not without a shot of caffeine.

  “Go on back to your room and finish getting dressed,” he said. “I’ll have Mabel bring you a cup of coffee.”

  “I am finished,” she said defensively, tucking the traitorous strand of hair behind one ear.

  “Not your hair. Your shirt is on backward.”

  “It is not” She glanced down at the simple crew-neck pullover she’d found hanging in the closet. “How can you tell? It looks exactly the same from both sides.”

  “They don’t put tags on both sides,” he said, fingering the white flag peeking up at her collar. One fingertip brushed the pulse beat at the base of her neck and her breath caught.

  “Uh-oh.” She lifted her hand to shove the stubborn tag back beneath the neckline. “I could have sworn I had it right.”

  “These things can be tricky.” He watched her fidget with the tag. She shoved it down, and it found its way back up again.

  “Blast it,” she muttered.

  “Blast what?” came a woman’s voice.

  Lucky’s gaze swiveled back toward the kitchen to see Mabel standing in the doorway, a basket of fresh eggs in her hands.

  “Nothing,” Tyler said, grabbing the tag and tearing it free.

  “Thank you,” Lucky breathed. The smile he gave her warmed her insides better than hot cocoa on the coldest morning.

  “What are we blasting?” A jug of milk in her hands, Bennie followed Mabel inside, pausing to wipe her feet when the older woman frowned at her.

  “I don’t want any traces of that barn on my clean floor.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Bennie said. “Look, Daddy. We milked Betty Lou. Mabel’s going to make pancakes and sausage for breakfast and fresh whipped cream from this milk.” Bennie set the pitcher down on the counter. Picking up a half-empty glass of juice, she took a huge gulp.

  “Shouldn’t you be wearing something else?” Tyler asked her, his gaze going from her plain blue T-shirt, down past her blue jeans and sneakers, then back up again. “Like a dress.”

  “But Daddy —”

  “You know your grandmother will be upset if she sees you like that. Put on. that outfit she brought you last night, the one with the pink flower things on it.” When Bennie turned a horrified expression on him, he added, “Please, honey. You’ll look really pretty.”

  “Of course she will,” Helen declared, walking into the kitchen. She wore an apricot-colored silk blouse and slacks, her makeup and hair perfect, as if she’d just walked out of a salon. Her cool eyes zeroed in on Lucky who busied herself drinking orange juice. “You look positively wretched.”

  The juice stuck in Lucky’s throat. Wretched? Tired, maybe, out of sorts, even under the weather, but wretched? Definitely too harsh a word, even for somebody who’d put on her shirt backward. “Actually, I’m feeling much better.”

  Helen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Good, then you can join me. We didn’t get much of a chance to chat last night.”

  “I’m sure Miss Myers would rather retire to her room. She’s still a little ill.” Tyler’s gaze riveted on her. “Aren’t you?”

  “Come now, Tyler. If the girl says she’s feeling better, then I’m sure she’s feeling better, no matter how she looks.” Helen sat down at the breakfast table and patted the seat next to her. “Come and have a seat, Miss Myers. I won’t bite you.”

  Lucky started to ask Helen if she would be willing to put that in writing, but instead of her own voice, she heard Tyler’s.

  “I’m sure Miss Myers would love to visit, but she needs to rest. I want her in top form for Bernadette.”

  At the mention of her granddaughter, Helen gave Lucky another thorough once-over. “She does look a little pale. And those clothes...”

  “I’m feeling fine,” Lucky heard herself say a second before she felt Tyler’s hand on her arm.

  “The medicine,” he declared, his grip warning her not to say any more. “I think she took a little too much for her heat allergy and now everything’s a little disorganized upstairs.”

  “I haven’t taken anything—” His fingers tightened and the words stalled in her throat. “Actually, I could lie down a few minutes. Oh, my pounding head,” she added for good measure.

  “Medicine.” Helen looked thoughtful. “Well, it’s a relief to know she doesn’t behave this way on a regular basis. I would hate to think this is the sort of woman you hired to teach my granddaughter how to conduct herself like a proper young lady.”

  “I don’t need anyone to teach me anything,” Bennie chimed in, only to have Tyler cut her off.

  “Rest assured, Miss Myers is the epitome of grace and elegance. This is simply a bad day for her.”

  “And is this one of your bad days, as well?” Helen gave him a pointed stare. “You look dreadful, Tyler. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so rough-looking.” She sniffed. “And that smell. What have you been doing?”

  “It’s called work,” he replied, his voice calm and even, though Lucky could feel the tension in his body, his fingers still firm on her arm. “Why don’t you visit with Bernadette while I help Miss Myers back to her room and get cleaned up?”

  “A lovely idea,” Helen said. “Miss Myers and I can chat later when she’s feeling better. A long chat, after breakfast”

  “Not enough time, I’m afraid.” Tyler did his best to look regretful, but Lucky could see the relief dancing in his eyes. “If you and Merle are going to make San Antonio by nine, you’ll have to hit the road in the next half hour.”

  “There’s been a change of plans. Merle had urgent premeeting business.” Helen stared pointedly at the pitcher of juice, then at Mabel who looked as if she’d rather eat nails than pour the woman a drop. “He left an hour ago.”

  “Left? But y-you’re still here.”

  “Of course I am, Tyler. One evening is so little time. I thought I would just stay and get reacquainted while Merle went on without me. I’m staying two weeks.” She smiled and clasped Bennie’s hand. “Two wonderful weeks to visit with my granddaughter and—” she shifted her attention to Lucky “—get to know the woman you’ve hired to care for her.”

  Lucky forced a swallow and turned her gaze to the man with the iron grip on her elbow.

  And for the first time since she’d met him, Lucky saw Tyler Grant completely and utterly speechless.

  7

  “YOU’RE NOT GOING to throw up, are you?” Lucky watched Tyler pace the length of the library, a strange expression on his face.

  “Staying,” he muttered. “She’s staying.” He raked tense fingers through his hair. “For two weeks. Two weeks.” He shot her an incredulous glance and kept pacing, his complexion visibly paler. He was upset, really upset, and she had the insane urge to cross the room and wrap her arms around him.

  It was definitely too early in the morning.

  “I’ll just go back to my room and pack,” she told him. “That way, if you really want to toss your cookies, you don’t have to worry about being unmacho in front of me. I was hoping to make it home before the lunch-hour traffic. It’s really heavy near the airport on Saturday—”

  “You can’t leave.” He turned in her direction. “She’s staying for two weeks.”

  “I understand that.” He’d gone off the deep end. She could see the desperation in his eyes and it did funny things to her. She could feel the sympathy churning inside her, spreading, swamping her common sense.

  “No,” she blurted out as he advanced.

  “No what?”

  “No to whatever you’re thinking.”

  “You can’t leave. Please, Lucky. It’s just two weeks.”

  “I can’t abandon my life for two weeks.”

  “Not abandon. Just take a li
ttle vacation. You don’t have a husband waiting at home, no kids.”

  “But I’ve got my granny. I visit every Monday. What will she say when I don’t show up?”

  “I don’t know. What?”

  She opened her mouth, but the words stalled on her lips. What would Granny say? Probably nothing. With Alzheimer’s, half the time she didn’t recognize Lucky. She simply sat out in the garden, picking flowers. She loved the nursing-home flowers.

  The thousand-dollar-a-month nursing home that Lucky could barely afford. Forget afford. She was two months behind, her tuition money hanging in the balance, and she was desperate. As desperate as Tight Tush staring at her with his deep blue eyes.

  “You really think we can pull this off for two weeks?”

  “I’ll help you, teach you everything you need to know. It won’t be easy, but you can do it.”

  You can do it. For those few moments as he stared at her, she actually did feel like she could. Funny how blind faith could pump up your ego and make you contemplate the impossible.

  She shook her head. “I know you’re in a tough situation, but I can’t lose two weeks of work.”

  “I’ll pay you,” he said. “Another thousand. That makes two thousand dollars for two weeks of your time.”

  She shook her head. “I’m already getting a thousand for last night, so technically it would only be one thousand dollars for two weeks of my time. I want two thousand for two weeks, plus last night’s money.”

  “Three thousand dollars? For pretending to be my nanny? I could get a real one for less than that.”

  “Yes, but I’m already here, and you’re asking a lot. You want me to risk my life way out here for peanuts? No way.”

  “Risk your life?”

  “Your father nearly shot me yesterday.”

  “I took his gun away, so there’s no risk. Two thousand,” he insisted. “Total. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”