Damn. Everything she said now tempted him, and he knew she hadn’t meant it that way. “I’ll do that.”
“So, what’re you working on now?”
“This? It’s a prototype for a new piece of furniture,” he said, relieved to shift his thoughts back to safe territory. He stood back, folded his arms over his chest and said, “Look at it. Tell me what you see.”
Frowning a little, she moved to get a better look. Sadly, she moved closer to him, and her scent wrapped itself around him.
After a second or two, she shrugged. “It looks like a bookcase. At least the top half does. The bottom half looks like it’s a cabinet door, but you don’t have any pulls on it yet.”
He grinned. “Don’t need them. See that switch on the side there? Give it a turn.”
She did, and the machinery inside hummed into life. Naomi moved out of the way and watched, a smile on her face, as the cabinet door swung out and up until it was horizontal, jutting out from the bookcase itself. “Cool. It converts to a table.”
“There’s more,” Toby said and, stepping forward, reached under the table and pushed another switch to one side. Instantly, hidden benches lowered from beneath the table and took their places, one on each side.
She laughed. “I love it. Table and chairs in a bookcase.”
He liked that approving smile and took a seat on one of the benches as he waved her toward the other one. “In a small place? Buy this bookcase, and you have a table when you want one and it’s gone when you don’t.”
She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her joined hands. “For a man with a gigantic house, you’re really into space-saving mode, aren’t you?”
He ran his hand over the table surface. “I like coming up with things that can be multifunctional.”
“It’s brilliant. I love it.” She looked at the top half. “And the bookcase stays in place so you don’t have to unload it before using the table. Very cool.”
“Thanks.” He looked at the piece again. “There are some products like this on the market, but none that include benches along with the table and none that use hydraulics like I’m using them.”
“Another patent for the boy inventor.”
“Haven’t been a boy inventor for a long time,” he said, shifting his gaze back to hers.
For one long, humming second, the air between them nearly bristled. Toby stared into her eyes and wondered if she could read the hunger no doubt shining in his. She licked her lips, huffed out a breath and opened her mouth to speak. But whatever she might have said was lost, and the mood between them shattered, when another voice called from the doorway.
“Hey, you two! I’m on the clock here. No canoodling.”
“Canoodling?” His eyebrows lifted. “Scarlett’s here?”
Ruefully, Naomi smiled. “That’s what I came to tell you. She’s here to give Legend a checkup. I took him from the corral into his stall to make it easier on her. You know, out of the sun. It’s really hot out there.”
Toby shook his head again. “You mean you walked to the stall and he followed you.”
“Pretty much. What can I say? He finds me irresistible.”
A lot of that going around, Toby thought grimly. His horse loved her, and Toby couldn’t stop thinking about her. Naomi Price was making life on the ranch a hell of a lot more interesting than he would have believed.
“Hello? You coming out or do I have to come in?” Scarlett’s shout was tinged with laughter.
“We’re coming!” Naomi called back and got up. She headed for the front door, then stopped and looked back at Toby.
Through the skylight, sunlight poured down over her like a river of gold. It highlighted the copper streaks in her brown hair and made her brown eyes glow like aged whiskey. Her body was curvier than he’d ever seen it, and the rounded mound of the baby made her seem softer, more alluring than he wanted to admit. She stood there, watching him, the hint of a smile on her face, and everything in Toby tightened into a hot fist.
“You coming?” she asked.
“Nearly,” he muttered, and stood up slowly, trying to mask the signs of his body’s reaction to her. “Yeah. Be right there.”
As soon as he could walk again.
* * *
A few days later, Naomi had her files—folders with clippings and printouts of websites she was interested in—scattered across the dining room table. The room, just like every other one in the house, was perfect. At least to Naomi. The table was a live edge oak, long enough to seat twelve and following the natural contours of the tree it had been made from. The grain was golden and gleaming from countless layers of varnish and polish. A fireplace along the wall was unlit, and in the cold hearth were ivory candles on intricate wrought-iron stands. The windows across from Naomi gave her a view of the paddock and the fields stretching out beyond.
Naomi had the whole house to herself, since Toby was at Clay Everett’s and Rebecca was in Royal doing some grocery shopping. Funny, Naomi used to be alone so much of the time she had convinced herself she loved it. Now that she lived with Toby and had the ranch hands popping in and out and Rebecca to sit and talk to, the house today seemed way too...quiet with everyone gone. On the other hand, she told herself, she could get some of her own work done with no interruptions.
With her new plans for the show, Naomi wanted to line up guests who could come in and demonstrate different ideas. And she knew just where she wanted to start. There was a place in Houston that specialized in faux stone finishes. It was owned and operated by a woman who’d started her business out of her garage. The show would be good for Naomi and good for the woman’s company.
She shuffled through a pile of papers looking for the number, and when her cell phone rang she answered without even looking at caller ID. “Hello?”
“Ms. Price?”
“Yes.” Frowning slightly at the unfamiliar voice, she said, “If this is about a survey or something, I’m really not interested—”
“I’m calling from Chasen Productions in Hollywood.”
Naomi swallowed hard and leaned back in her chair. Panic, curiosity and downright fear nibbled at her. Hollywood? She took a breath, steadied her voice and said calmly, “I see. What can I help you with?”
“My name is Tamara Stiles, and I think we can help each other.”
“How so?” Wow. She silently congratulated herself on sounding so calm, so controlled, when her insides were jumping and her mind was shrieking. Hollywood. Calling her.
“I’ve seen your show, and I’d like to talk to you about perhaps taking it national.”
Naomi lurched up from her chair and started walking, pacing crazily around the long table. This couldn’t be happening. Could it? Really? Her show. On national TV?
“National?” Did her voice just squeak? She didn’t want to squeak. Oh, God, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath and she really wanted to sound professional.
“That’s the idea,” Tamara answered. “Do you think you could come to Hollywood next week? I’d like to meet in person to see what the two of us can come up with.”
Clapping one hand to the base of her throat, Naomi said, “Um, sure. I mean, yes. Of course. That would be great. I’d love to meet with you.” Understatement of the century.
“Fine, then. Give me your email and I’ll send you my contact information. I can arrange for your flight and hotel—”
“Not necessary,” Naomi said, instantly wanting to stand on her own two feet. Sure, it would be nice if a Hollywood producer paid for her travel, but if Naomi did it herself, she remained in charge. They exchanged information, and then Naomi said, “I’ll email you when I have particulars.”
“Excellent. If you could be in town Monday, that would work well for us here.”
“Monday is doable.” Even if
it wasn’t, she’d find a way to make it work. Hollywood? Taking her show national?
People had enjoyed her local cable show, and it was getting more popular, but Naomi knew that her parents considered it more a hobby than anything else. This would convince them that she was so much more than they thought.
There were too many emotions crowding around inside her. Too many wheeling thoughts and dreams of possibilities. She was starting to shake, so she got off the phone as quickly as possible. There was no one there to tell. She needed to tell Toby, but she couldn’t do it over the phone.
So Naomi just sat there in the silence. Alone. Smiling.
* * *
Later that night, Toby listened and watched as Naomi paced back and forth in the great room. She hadn’t stopped talking since he got home, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her. Pretty big deal getting a call out of the blue from Hollywood. Good thing the great room was as big as it was, though. Gave her plenty of space to walk off her nerves.
“Can you imagine?” she asked. “Hollywood? Calling me?”
“Well, why wouldn’t they?” Toby said from his position on the couch. He was slouched low, feet crossed at the ankles, hands folded on top of his belly. “Even California’s got to hear about it when a show takes off like yours has.”
She stopped, threw him a grin that was damn near blinding. “You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”
There it was. Best friend. No lust. No need. Just pals. As it should be. If only his brain would get the memo. “You’re great at what you do, Naomi. Half of Texas is talking about you, and the other half will be soon. Why not Hollywood?”
“You’re right. Why not?” She started pacing again, her steps getting quicker and quicker as her words tumbled over each other. “Tamara,” Naomi said, “isn’t that an elegant name? Very showbizzy.”
“Showbizzy?”
She shot him another wide smile. “I’m rambling and I know it. Heck, I can hear myself babbling and I can’t seem to stop. Until you got home, I was talking Rebecca’s ears off. She was too nice to tell me to be quiet and go away.”
“Maybe she’s pleased for you,” he pointed out.
“She is. I know. But you’re the one I wanted to tell, Toby.” Naomi stopped dead, looked at him from across the room and said, “It about killed me waiting for you to get back from Clay’s, because I just couldn’t tell you this over the phone.”
“Next time you need me,” he said, sitting up, leaning his forearms across his knees, “call. I’ll come home.”
“Okay. Thanks. I will.” She took a deep breath, laid one hand on her rounded belly and sighed. “Toby, this is just so crazy. Am I crazy?”
“Not that I’ve ever noticed.”
“I’ve got to get tickets. And a hotel reservation.”
“For both of us,” he said, and she looked at him in surprise. Didn’t she know that he would stand with her? Didn’t she realize that Toby knew what this meant to her? That everything she’d been working toward for the last few years was finally coming true?
“Really? You’d come with me?”
“I’m not going to let you go alone.” He shifted on the couch and dropped one arm along the back. “Naomi, I get it. This show, it’s who you are. And someone noticing, wanting to talk to you about making it even bigger? I know what it means to you, so no, you’re not going alone.”
“You really are the best, Toby,” she said, her voice soft, almost lost.
He shook his head, smiling wryly. “Who’ll you talk to while you pace a hole through your hotel room floor?”
At that, she stopped pacing, darted across the room and dropped onto the chocolate-brown leather couch beside him, curling her feet up beneath her. She was so close he could see the excitement glittering in her eyes. Feel the warmth radiating from her and the scent of her, drawing him in again.
Laying one hand on his forearm, she admitted, “It was so surreal. Hollywood wants my show, Toby. It’s a dream. And okay, maybe nothing will come of it, after all, and I’m completely prepared for that, but it’s a chance. It tells me people are noticing.”
“I know.” He covered her hand with his.
“You know,” she went on, “when Maverick first started all his trouble, I thought for sure the world was ending, and now look at me. I’m marrying my best friend and going to Hollywood to talk about my show.”
Best friend. He took a breath and let it slide from his lungs. No matter what else happened, he would remain her friend, and that would be easier, he told himself, if he let go of her hand and slid just a bit farther away from her.
“Oh!” Her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open.
Instant panic clutched at his throat. “What? What is it? Is it the baby? Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer him, just kept looking at him through wide eyes shining with something far more magical than the promise of Hollywood. Then she took their joined hands and laid them on her belly. “It moved. The baby moved, Toby.”
His insides settled now that he knew she was okay. But then the baby moved again, the slightest ripple of movement beneath his hand, and he felt the magic still glittering in her eyes. “That was...”
“I know,” she said breathlessly. “Wait for it.”
She pressed his hand to her belly, and Toby held his breath, hoping to feel that rustle again, and when it came, they smiled at each other. Secrets shared and a moment of real wonder connected them more deeply than ever before.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Naomi launched herself at him, planting a hard, fast kiss on his mouth that changed instantly from celebration to something else entirely.
Heat erupted between them, surprising them both. Toby’s heart jolted into a fast gallop, and Naomi did a slow melt against him, parting her lips under his. His tongue swept in, tangling with hers, tightening the knots inside him until he was pretty sure they’d never come undone. His hands fisted at her back. Her hands stroked his shoulders and slid up into his hair, her fingers holding him tightly to her. Seconds passed, and the building heat between them became an inferno.
Toby had never felt anything like it, and he wondered how he’d been so close to her for so many years and never tried this. She moved against him, sliding onto his lap, and he knew she felt the hard proof of what he was feeling for her, because she squirmed on his lap, making it both better and worse all at the same time.
When that thought hit, Toby knew he had to end this. Before they completely crossed the line they’d agreed on to protect them both. He broke the kiss, lifted her off his lap and set her down on the couch. Then he got up, needing some space between them.
“Toby—”
He looked over his shoulder at her and nearly groaned. Her mouth was full and tempting, her eyes wide with surprise and her breath coming in short, hard gasps. He knew the feel of her, the soft curves, the warmth and eager response to his touch. And damned if he knew how he’d ignore that knowledge now.
“Just give me a minute here, Naomi,” he ground out and pushed both hands through his hair. He dragged in a deep breath and shook his head.
“Why did you stop?” she asked.
Toby spun around and glared at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” She pushed herself off the couch and walked toward him.
Toby held up one hand to keep her at bay. Her hair was loose on her shoulders. The T-shirt she wore clung to her rounded belly, and her white shorts displayed way too much tanned leg. Her bare feet didn’t make a sound on the floor, but it was as if every step thundered in his head, his chest, as a warning. Well, he was going to listen.
He’d been burned once by a woman he cared too much for, and he wasn’t going to set himself up for that again. They were going to be friends. Nothing more.
“Toby, that was—”
“A mistake,” he finished for her and walked to the bar in the far corner of the room. Yanking the mini fridge open, he pulled out a beer, opened it, then slammed the fridge closed again. He took a long pull of the cold, frothy brew and hoped to hell it served to put out the fire burning inside him. Somehow he doubted a beer was up to that task, though.
“Why does it have to be a mistake?” she asked. “We’re engaged, aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” he said, taking another drink. “And it’s a marriage of convenience, remember? We agreed to no sex. It’ll just complicate everything, and you know it.”
She scowled at him. “Nobody said anything about sex tonight, Toby. I’m talking about a kiss.”
“A kiss like that?” He waved one hand at the couch where they’d been just moments ago. “Leads one place, Naomi.”
“Wow. You’re really sure either of yourself or of me.” She tipped her head to one side to watch him like he was a bug on a glass slide. “You think kissing my brains out means I’m just going to leap into your bed shrieking, ‘Take me, baby’?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She pushed that silky mass of copper-brown hair back from her face. The better to scowl at him, he guessed. “For God’s sake, Toby, I’m not that easy.”
He snorted, shook his head and took another gulp of his beer. “You are many things, Naomi, but I never thought easy was one of ’em.”
“Right.” She folded her arms across her middle, unconsciously lifting her breasts so that the tops peeked out of her T-shirt’s neckline. “But you figured one hot kiss from you and I was going to toss my panties over my head?”
“You’re twisting this up somehow,” he said and tried to figure out exactly where he’d taken the wrong tack.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” She walked toward him, and as short as she was, she looked pretty damn intimidating when she had a mad on.
She stopped about five feet from him and said, “I liked kissing you—which, okay, surprised me a little—”
He snorted again and nodded. It had surprised the hell out of him, too. Hell, his mouth was still burning.
A Texas-Sized Secret Page 9