Matt stiffened.
“Girl, you’ve been a handful all your life. You ruined the barbecue last night. Now you probably won’t be able to dance at the ball. Why can’t you once, just once, ever be a proper girl?”
“I don’t know. I was trying.”
“Let her go to bed, Susie. We need to all calm down before we thrash—”
“Wayne! No! Not yet! Because I know what’s really going on here. The whole town knows. I know why she ran off last night. Why he found her. I know everything. You spent the night with him, didn’t you, Frankie? Just look at them, Wayne! They’re both as red as beets.”
A thick silence fell over the living room as Aunt Susie stared from Frankie to Matt, neither of whom denied anything. “I’ve tried everything to raise you right,” Aunt Susie said. “To keep you from ending up like your mother. Oh, I know her life seems glamorous. And sometimes I’ve been a little jealous. All that running around. All those parties. But it’s best for a girl to marry the right kind of man. Not to fool around with the wrong kind, exciting as they may seem—at least in bed—and lose herself in the process.”
Matt uncoiled himself from the window. “I’d better go.”
“Yes, you had,” Aunt Susie said.
“Aunt Susie, no—”
“She’s right, darlin’,” Matt said.
“Darlin’?” Aunt Susie snapped the word viciously.
“We were wrong,” Matt whispered, his tone raw. “I—I’m real sorry about all this, Mrs. Lassiter. I proposed marriage to your niece last night because I thought it was the right thing to do. Frankie, I retract my offer. I just asked you ’cause I thought I had to.”
The door opened and slammed.
“Matt—”
Matt was gone.
Frankie felt hot and clammy—scared and sick to the core of her being. Well, she had her answer. He didn’t love her. He’d only felt obligated to propose.
Still, she would have run after him, even thrown herself in front of his truck, but she could barely hobble.
“Oh, Aunt Susie, why did you have to ruin everything?”
“Me? Ask yourself that question! Oh, go to bed. Like you said, the doctor ordered you to rest. Do what you’re supposed to—for once in your life.”
Chapter 6
Tears shimmering in her eyes, Frankie clutched the phone to her ear.
Matt’s harsh voice only compounded her misery. “Don’t call me ever again.”
Helplessly she dabbed at her face with the back of her hands. “But, Matt—”
“It was plain as day yesterday morning what your aunt and uncle think of me.”
“You’re not listening.”
“No, you listen. They think I’m dirt, that I soiled your reputation. If they knew for sure how far this has gone, they wouldn’t want me to marry you—even if I was fool enough to propose a second time.”
“Just ask me,” she whispered. “I’m the one who gets to answer that question. Not them.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong—you didn’t answer, did you, when I asked you that night?”
“Ask me again.”
“No—Miss debutante. ’Cause I realized I don’t want to marry you.”
Because you don’t love me. You just felt obligated. The same as Aunt Susie and Uncle Wayne felt obligated to adopt me.
The words hurt too much to even breathe aloud. “Please, Matt—”
He said nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She felt herself faltering. Still, she had to try. “All right. Then, I’ve got a question for you. Will…will you at least be my escort to the debutante ball?”
“Me? BoBo’s no-good son? At your fancy debutante ball?”
“Please—”
“Are you out of your mind? Hell no. Your aunt loves Vince. Invite him, why don’t you?”
“But—”
“You’ll make a beautiful couple.”
“But—”
“Stop chasing me, damn it. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t come to my ranch and thrown yourself at me.”
Stung, she could only gasp for breath.
He hung up.
“But, Matt, I love you—you, only you. I love…” Her voice died as the receiver slipped through her fingers to the carpet.
What was she going to do? How could she make him listen?
She couldn’t.
Had she been right? Had he really only asked her to marry him that first time because he’d felt obligated?
Her aunt’s brisk knock interrupted this unpleasant train of thought.
“Frankie! Are you dressed?”
“Come in.”
Aunt Susie made her way over crutches, a pair of wadded thong panties and jeans as well as the bridle Frankie had meant to mend. Her aunt’s eyes slowly circled the messy room before returning to Frankie’s red, tear-blotched face.
“Well! What have you been doing—moping in here all by yourself?”
“Matt won’t be my escort for the debutante ball.”
“Well, praise the Lord. Why don’t you call Vince, then?”
“Because I don’t love Vince. Why can’t you understand that?”
“But he’s a perfect catch.”
“For some other girl. Someone more like you,” Frankie finished in the quietest of voices. “Not for me. I’m not like you. Why can’t you understand that?”
Aunt Susie sighed as she bent over and scooped handfuls of clothes into the hamper. “All right. Let’s forget about the barbecue and Vince. You’re safe and sound. How’s your ankle?”
“Much better.”
“Good. We’ve got at least a dozen things to do in town this morning. Margaret called and said your gown is ready. And we need to schedule you to have your picture taken for the paper. Which means a hair appointment. Then there’s your last etiquette class.”
Frankie yawned.
“Couldn’t you at least pretend to be a little bit excited about all this—for me?”
Frankie’s eyes slid to her Aunt’s disappointed face. “Yes, I can pretend. But that’s all I do—pretend.”
With difficulty she tried to shake off the sudden attack of nervous jitters that threatened her.
If I lose Matt, I’ll be pretending for the rest of my life.
Still, she shot her aunt her most dazzling smile, and her Aunt Susie pretended not to notice that the false smile didn’t reach her sad, glistening eyes.
“So—let’s us girls have some fun,” Aunt Susie said, determined to play along.
“Slow down, Frankie.” Aunt Susie was grabbing at the yellow and red scarf billowing around her face. “You know what your uncle said he’d do if you got another ticket and I’ve got better things to do than to drive you everywhere.”
“No cop will give me a ticket unless I’m at least ten miles over the speed limit.”
“That’s what you think…because you were doing nearly ninety when you got those other tickets.”
Frankie lifted her toe, but just a little.
The heavy, silver-gray Mercedes convertible rolled easily under the two women. The top was down, but all the windows were up. Still, Frankie’s red curls were whipping about her face.
Ever since they’d compromised by raising the windows, Aunt Susie had hunkered as low as possible in her plush, gray, leather seat, clinging to the corners of her red and gold silk scarf in a vain attempt to keep it from swirling off her elaborately set hairdo.
“The generation gap is real,” was all she’d said when Frankie had lowered the black, canvas top.
Tall brown grasses, black-eyed susans and yellow daisies were whizzing past them on either side of the road.
“I can’t believe how fast we got it all done—” Frankie said as she slammed on her brakes to avoid a large, green tractor hauling hay that suddenly pulled onto the road right in front of them.
“Macho, red-neck, cowboy sun-of-a-gun! Go back to driving school!”
“Frankie, you’re the one who’s going way too
fast!”
“You just think that because he’s going way too slow!”
Her foot tapped the accelerator impatiently, but a car was coming so she couldn’t pass.
Frankie bit her lip and let out a sigh.
“Is that—him?” Aunt Susie muttered in a vehement undertone from under flapping silk tongues of flame.
Suddenly Frankie’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. She let up on the accelerator, and she felt herself blush with a thrilling mixture of sick confusion and heady adoration.
Matt. Oh, God, it’s so good to see you.
Suddenly she realized that all day, she’d been looking for him—on the way into town, at the bank, even after she’d picked Aunt Susie up at the LSCC Body Perfect spa. She’d stared at every tall blond man in ragged jeans, at every red pickup truck on the road.
The car slowed to the tractor’s crawl.
“Well, aren’t you going to pass him?”
“There’s a car coming.”
The car flew past them, and still Frankie refused to pass.
Matt had taken his shirt off and tied it around his lean waist, white sleeves flapping back and forth. Completely absorbed, Frankie stared at his shining hair. Next she devoured the brown ripple of muscles on his glistening back.
He had been on top of her, straddling her, and she had clutched that back at his every powerful stroke. His skin had been warm and wet with perspiration then, too.
“You can pass him now,” Aunt Susie offered a little too helpfully.
“Back seat driver!”
“Front seat,” Aunt Susie corrected.
When Frankie pulled slowly along beside him, Matt glanced her way and reddened with shock when she smiled. Instead of smiling back, his lips thinned.
When she held up her right hand, fluttering her fingers at him gaily, he flushed a deep, dark shade of purple and turned away, rudely clenching his steering wheel.
She tapped the horn and kept waving. His broad brown shoulders hunched forward. She jammed her fist on the horn and didn’t let up. Not that he so much as glanced her way again.
“Frankie! For God’s sakes! There’s a car coming!”
Pulling ahead of him, she slowed the convertible to a speed even slower than his crawl, driving at this snail’s pace all the way to his own turnoff, almost stopping there, forcing him to brake, too.
“Frankie!”
She inched forward, so he could make the turn.
Only when he disappeared from her rearview mirror did Frankie stomp down on her accelerator again. She drove ninety all the way home.
As soon as she got home, she called him.
“Matt—”
“Darlin’, this has got to stop.”
“I love you.”
He hung up on her.
“You tell your Aunt Susie next Monday. Three o’clock on the dot.”
One minute Sam Jenson was explaining to Frankie when he’d have her proofs ready. In the next, all she saw or heard was the tall man in crisply pressed jeans and his best Stetson on the opposite side of the street.
“Matt…”
She leaned forward on the counter to get a better look. Unused to her long manicured fingernails, she dropped her pen. Not that she noticed.
Jenson caught it before it rolled off the edge of the counter. Not that she noticed that either.
All she saw was Matt’s long body as he dragged each scarred boot forward in that slouchy, sullen way that meant he had no enthusiasm for the task ahead of him.
Then she read the shiny gold letters that spelled Mission Creek First Federal Bank above the revolving doors and let out a forlorn little cry.
“Something wrong, girlie?” Mr. Jenson demanded.
“Monday,” she whispered, her voice sounding a little shrill even to her own ears. “Monday will be just fine.”
Then she stumbled blindly for the door.
“Your pen, Miss Moore. You forgot your—”
“Keep it. I—I just remembered I’ve gotta see about Uncle Wayne. Right now! I—I just forgot…all about him. See, he’s got that bank board meeting this morning.” Why was she babbling?
“Same as he always does.”
“Well, I was supposed to pick him up because his SUV is in the shop to get a new battery….” She didn’t have to explain herself to Mr. Jenson, of all people, but she couldn’t seem to stop talking.
“Simmer down, little lady. The board never gets done this early.”
Indeed, Uncle Wayne was the last errand on Aunt Susie’s list, not the next item.
“Just the same I feel like I’ve got to see about Uncle Wayne right now! What if the meeting lets out early? I wouldn’t want my darling uncle to have to wait, now would I?”
“Was that the Dixon fella you’ve been working for I seen going in the bank a while ago? Maybe to see about his daddy’s old loan?”
“I—I wouldn’t know.”
“You know the whole town wants to know what’s going to happen to that boy if he loses his ranch after all his hard work?”
“Really?”
She pushed the door open and flung herself outside.
Matt glanced up, his gaze drawn to the slim woman in the jade green sundress with a mane of shockingly bright hair high-stepping it saucily in her strappy green sandals through the revolving doors straight toward him. His lips thinned. As quickly as he looked up, he lowered his gaze. But not in time.
Already his heart was pounding, and his throat was dry. A wave of heat crawled up his collar.
Frankie in that slip of a dress…more like a nightgown than a dress. The silken stuff clung to her legs and breasts and narrow waist. It was so short it revealed way too much of her long, shapely legs.
Even though he’d looked away the second he’d seen her, the image of her had burned into his brain. All that hair. Today those glorious red silk curls were restrained by a demure bow at her neck that somehow made her look even sexier.
Yesterday when she’d driven so slowly in front of him had been sheer torture. Then when she’d called him, her velvet voice saying those three hellish words had made him sweat.
Oh, God.
Just watching her hair fly loosely in the wind as she drove had made him remember how the stuff felt coiled around his hand. But seeing her like that with her aunt who despised him, knowing she was forbidden, knowing that she was deliberating teasing him with her beauty had made him mad too.
Why couldn’t she play fair?
The minx pranced across the bank toward him and said, “Hi,” just as casually as you please.
“Hi,” he said edgily, too aware of the other men watching them. “Now get…before people get the wrong idea!”
“Or maybe the right idea, cowboy!”
“Quit! You know how gossip spreads!”
She batted thick, mascara laden lashes. “Maybe I want to light a fire or two.”
Then she plopped down beside him, so close her thigh touched his, burning him up with her body heat and her perfume that smelled like roses.
“What the hell are you doing in here in that dress? You couldn’t look sexier if you were prancing around stark naked.”
“Oh, so you like it?” She smiled. “I hoped you would.”
“And all that makeup? Did you fall in a vat of perfume or what?”
“Just call me a before-and-after advertisement for the country club’s Body Perfect spa.”
“On you it’s overkill.”
“Well, if you like it, cowboy, maybe it was worth the fortune it cost my Aunt Susie.”
“Is this little show for Vince?” he whispered. “Did you come here to ask him to be your escort?”
“I asked you to be my escort to the ball, remember? The offer’s still open, cowboy.”
“No way,” he growled.
Her voice softened. “Matt…”
Because the eyes she turned on him were so glassy-bright, he almost softened. What if she cried?
Then Vince, whose secretary had to
ld Matt he’d have to wait, stormed out of the boardroom and waved to her. “Do you need something, Frankie dear?”
Dear. Rage engulfed Matt like molten lava as she glanced in confusion from Matt to Vince.
“I—I…”
“Go ahead. Ask him, why don’t you?” Matt said. “Hell, we both know it’s over between you and me.”
He flung himself to his feet. His boot heels clicked so furiously on the marble floors, all heads turned to watch him. Then he slammed out of the bank, leaving the revolving doors spinning behind him.
She caught him just as he was about to open the door to his rusty, red pickup.
“You’ve got to be the most stubborn, impossible man in the whole world,” she sobbed.
“What about you? What kind of girl won’t take no for an answer?”
“What do I have to do?”
The livid pain in her wet green eyes broke his heart and made him want to devour her. Her red mouth was so moist and sexy; he licked his dry lips and tasted like dust.
“If you know what’s good for you darlin’, you’ll get. And fast.”
“I—I know what’s good for me.” She hurled herself into his chest. “Kiss me, you big idiot. Kiss me.”
“A kiss won’t solve it, darlin’.”
She fused her body to his. In the next instant his entire being pulsed like a red-hot volcano about to blow. Then her hands clasped his lean waist and clung, snugging her hips against his.
“You want me,” she whispered shakily. “You do. I know you do. Don’t be such a coward. Say it.”
Uncle Wayne stepped outside onto the sidewalk along with Vince, their eyes on Jenson, who had stepped outside his photo shop across the street.
Frankie squirmed her hips a little more, probably to get the whole gang, especially Matt, really riled.
“Don’t you dare fine-tune it, Frankie.”
She wiggled harder.
“By God…”
Her uncle and Vince and Old Man Jenson blurred. There was only Frankie, her red hair blowing against his cheek, the smell of roses, and the scent of her skin too, seeping inside him. His hands ran up and down her soft arms.
“I don’t give a damn who’s watching us,” he muttered thickly.
“It’s about time you came to your senses, cowboy.”
Lone Star Country Club: The Debutantes Page 24