by Anne Carrole
“Didn’t beat me this time, did you?” he said, grinning up at her as he knelt on the ground, smoothing the fabric.
“Paddy proved too much—today. Never know about tomorrow.”
He looked at her from under his hat brim and nodded. “I brought bug spray,” he said as he rose and held up a plastic bottle.
“You had this all planned,” she said, feeling complimented by his efforts. He’d gone to some trouble to get her here. “I’m just surprised at your choice of location.”
He came over to her and rested his large hands on her shoulders. His touch was warm and heavy, and he seemed to take up the whole landscape as he stood before her.
“I thought it appropriate.”
She wanted to ask him why it was appropriate, since it had been the sight of her greatest humiliation, but he slid his hand up to her face and grazed a thumb across her cheek, and all thought vanished as a pleasant little shiver cascaded through her. He did this to her every time they were together. Made her want him. What would happen in a few weeks when he walked away?
She pushed that thought from her mind. She’d surely be pregnant by then, considering how frequently they made love. She’d have a child. He’d be in her life. Though that had once been a negative, his being in her life now sat squarely in the positive column, at least for the moment. Only she wondered how long it would be positive. What would happen when he took up with another woman and brought her to their child’s birthday party?
She’d fantasized about raising her child, and he’d always been in the picture—as her husband. He was all the things she shouldn’t want—arrogant, by the book, a loner—but he’d also been surprisingly tender and caring and protective. He’d been generous with his time, his knowledge, and his contacts. He’d respected her knowledge of the industry and had backed her decisions, even if he didn’t agree with them. He’d been a talented lover—and a good friend. She’d fallen in love with him, and she wasn’t sure she could take his leaving. It seemed, one way or another, the men in her life left her, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
“Let’s eat first, and then we should talk.” He cupped her chin and lightly kissed her on the mouth.
The pit of her stomach felt funny.
Isn’t that what guys said when they had something bad to tell you?
He took her hand and pulled her toward the blanket. Sitting down, she opened the latch of the basket and lifted the lid. The smell of fried chicken filled her nostrils as she peered at a tangle of plastic plates, linen napkins, a wineglass and bottle, a water bottle, plasticware, and lidded tubs filled with food. She began unpacking as Ty grabbed the wine and poured it into a glass.
She was aware when he took a sip of wine, when he settled on his knees, when he reached in and pulled open the tub with the corn. She took out the still-warm tub with the fried chicken and set it on the blanket. At the bottom of the basket were salt and pepper shakers. Mrs. Jenkins and Ty had thought of everything.
She settled on her rump and tucked her legs under her. The top of the basket made a small table, and Mandy began setting it. She’d been aware of Ty watching her even as he placed an ear of corn on each of their plates. He opened the larger tub that contained the chicken and placed a golden-fried breast next to each ear of corn. He took the bag with the biscuits and set one next to the chicken. He was playing host, and she wondered if he had a part in mind for her—beyond guest.
“Time to eat,” he said, looking at his plate. “I’m starved.”
She took her lead from him. As they ate, she listened to the water tumbling over the rocks, the birds tweeting among the trees, and her own breathing. The chicken was the perfect blend of crispy on the outside and moist on the inside, and the biscuit was tasty.
It seemed perfect and romantic, and she couldn’t fathom what Ty wanted to talk about that wouldn’t ruin the mood. She took a sip of bottled water and wished she could have had wine to suppress the anxious feeling filling her. But she might be pregnant, and she wasn’t about to take a chance.
“We’re having a school in next week. Promise me you won’t be tempted to ride a bull again?” she asked. He was working his way down the ear of corn, getting a kernel or two on his lower cheek. Ty had a hearty appetite—for many things.
“Little ibuprofen and I’m as good as new,” he said when he came to the end of the row of kernels.
“You had me worried there for a second.” More like several seconds. Or a minute. It had taken her some time to erase the image of him in a heap from her mind.
Ty shook his head. “I now get how addictive that rush of adrenaline is. If I was younger, I just might compete. On broncs, though, not bulls.”
“Well then, I’m glad you are older and wiser.” She took an ear of corn and bit into it, enjoying the sweet kernels.
“I am older. Not sure about wiser.” He chuckled and took another sip of wine. More like a gulp. He grabbed the bottle and poured some more, topping off his glass. One thing about riding a horse after drinking, if you weren’t drunk enough to fall off, the horse would likely get you home in one piece. But she had to wonder why Ty was drinking so quickly.
Stripping her ear of kernels and having made a solid attempt to finish her chicken breast, she began to pack up the remnants while Ty finished off another breast. Clearly her appetite wasn’t that of a pregnant woman, but it would be a few weeks before her next cycle, before she would know for sure. There was still time. She needn’t panic—yet.
Ty’s pieces of chicken were now nothing but bone. She watched as he swiped a napkin across his chin, a satisfied grin on his face. He threw the trash into the large tub, closed it up, and packed it away. She followed, putting everything back except the water bottle. Ty poured more wine into his glass and took a long draw, his eyes looking her over from head to toe and back again. Any other place, and she’d be up for some spectacular sex, but here she felt on edge, as if any second he was going to tell her he had to leave.
She was no longer worried about the company. If no one, including Lassiter, had made an offer by now, it wasn’t likely any other stock contractor would step forward at this late date. Just securing financing could take a while. No, it wasn’t the company she was worried about. It was her heart.
He settled behind her, his big body sliding against hers as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her into his lap. Was he holding her in case she fell apart?
He felt warm and hard, and she should feel secure in his embrace. She didn’t.
He nuzzled her neck, and she detected the scent of liquor, which was probably responsible for the intimate moment.
He kissed the side of her neck. A little tingle spread within her. “My condo sold,” he said.
“That’s good. Right?” She wasn’t sure. If he put his house on the market when he thought he’d be working at Prescott for two years, he might not be so happy that it sold.
“I think so. Do you?” He nibbled her ear.
She twisted a little so she could see him. He’d opened the top button of his shirt, exposing his clavicle and the base of his throat “Yes.” She guessed she was happy. For him. She didn’t know what it meant for them.
“So I won’t have a place to go to when the six months are up.” His tongue trailed down the side of her throat.
“No. I don’t suppose you will,” she said, wondering where he was taking this and trying not to let her imagination fill her with hope.
“So I was thinking…”
She wanted to know what he was thinking. And whom he was thinking about.
“Maybe I could stay on. With you. For a while longer.” He feathered kisses down her neck, and his hands cupped her breasts.
“How much longer?” she wasn’t sure what he was asking, but it didn’t sound like a marriage proposal. Not that she expected one, but she’d definitely imagined one.
She felt one of his shoulders raise and lower. “I don’t know. For as long as it feels right.”
That so
unded very open ended…and vague. “Feels right for whom?”
“For both of us.”
It would relieve some of the anxiety that had been building inside of her, dreading the day he’d leave and wondering what would happen if she wasn’t pregnant. But putting off the inevitable wasn’t a commitment or a declaration of love. Once again it was simply convenient for him.
He kneaded her breasts as he kissed the base of her neck, and she involuntarily leaned back. “There’s no hurry…right?” he asked. His tongue tickled her ear, and desire pulsed inside of her.
“What about your job? Don’t you have to get back to it?”
Behind her he took a breath. “I quit my job six months ago, before I agreed to help Prescott.”
She’d tried to process what he said, but she couldn’t understand what would make him do it. “Why?”
“They wanted me to ignore some things, and I couldn’t. So I don’t have a job or a home.” He squeezed her tightly against his chest, and she could feel the buttons on his shirt. “If I stay on, you’d be running things, of course. You pretty much do now. But I could still help out until I figured out what to do. We could continue together. No hurry about divorcing, or anything.” His hand softly cupped the side of her face and turned her toward him. “If you’re okay with that.”
She hadn’t expected a commitment from him. She should be happy that he agreed to a child with her, right? And since she wasn’t pregnant yet, continuing on would be convenient for her as well. She shouldn’t expect more from him.
“I’m okay with it.”
He shifted, and his hand supported her back as he bent her down to lie upon the blanket. The ground was hard, the blanket itchy, and all she wanted was him. He’d been all she ever wanted. He sidled up beside her and stared down into her eyes. “Let’s make a memory, Mandy. A good one.”
Expecting more than a memory was just asking for heartache. Her head knew that. Too bad her heart hadn’t listened.
Chapter 21
Ty stared at the offer letter and then looked back at the resolute man sitting across from him in the office that used to be JM’s. Stan Lassiter settled back into the folds of his chair. The offer was 50 percent more than Stan had offered the first time. A fair offer, even considering the AFBR opportunity. Prescott bulls had just finished another good weekend on the tour, bucking off contestants to pull strong scores. How Stan had gotten wind of it so fast was amazing, though Ty shouldn’t have been surprised. The rodeo stock community was a small one, as industries go.
“It’s a legitimate offer. A damn good one and you know it. You have the bank’s statement saying they’d approve the line of credit.” Stan had read Ty’s pause as concern.
He guessed he was concerned. Things had been going so well, and there had been no serious nibbles in quite a while. Ty had been so sure he wouldn’t have to sell Prescott, wouldn’t have to disappoint Mandy. The AFBR opportunity meant Prescott Rodeo Company was in better shape, and he’d fulfilled his promise to JM.
He’d even allowed himself to hope that he could make things permanent with Mandy.
The months he’d spent with her had shown him a woman he didn’t know existed, didn’t know he wanted. He’d begun to think JM had outfoxed them, though he couldn’t be certain Mandy felt the same way. At the creek, he’d intended to ask her to stay married to him, but she’d seemed so surprised he’d sold his condo, surprised he’d given up his job, the words got caught in his throat. Instead, he’d asked to stay on longer, and given she hadn’t conceived yet, she’d agreed. He may have fallen for her, but he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just a convenient sperm donor.
He’d decided to wait and take the opportunity to show her what she meant to him now that he’d negotiated more time together and, when the time seemed right, pop the question, maybe at their six-month anniversary.
He’d bought rings, taking one of her rings she’d left on the dresser to the jewelers for size. The engagement ring was a large diamond set in platinum, and the matching wedding band had several smaller diamonds because that’s what Mandy was—a diamond surrounded by others.
He’d been thinking about different ways he could propose. Like having Jace Parrish announce Ty during the rodeo parade and handing Ty the mike, taking her for a plane ride and engaging the autopilot so he could propose, hiring a skywriting plane to write it in the sky, or handing her a gift for the baby, with the ring tied to the ribbon.
Now, mere weeks from the six-month deadline, he held a lucrative deal in his hand. One he couldn’t walk away from, however much it would break Mandy’s heart.
“I’m just surprised. This is quite a bit more than your original offer, Stan.”
“I’ve tried for years to crack the AFBR. You’ve done it in a matter of months.” He steepled his fingers, resting his hands on the chambray shirt covering his rounded belly. “I won’t admit this in public, but your bulls have really come into their own. And the AFBR saw that. Breeding them to my stock and running them in the AFBR, well, it will set me apart.”
Just as it could set Prescott apart. Except that hadn’t been his charge. His charge was to financially secure the future of the Prescott family.
Ty ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he could make the offer and its complications vanish, but he couldn’t.
“I need to review this with the other stockholders.” And particularly Mandy.
“I know you can okay this deal on your own. Hear tell JM set it up that way so the decision could be objective and not emotional. I doubt your wife,” he said with a sneer, “would ever agree. So I need to know if I’m doing business with the right person.”
“I’m the right person.” For a few more weeks anyway. “But that doesn’t mean I will move without discussion.”
“I have thirty days to access this line of credit. That’s all, Ty.”
“Believe me, this will get the highest priority.” Ty rubbed his hand across his chin. “Let me ask you something. Did you let that bull out?”
Stan pressed his hand across his heart. “I don’t do stuff like that, Ty. Now whether one of my men may have gotten carried away, I couldn’t say. But I suspect there are more than a few people who wouldn’t want to see Prescott succeed.”
Ty didn’t believe that Stan couldn’t say…but it was water under the proverbial bridge. There had been some local publicity, but Harold had made sure that it hadn’t happened again, and there hadn’t been any additional fallout from it.
Stan rose and extended his hand. Ty shook it.
“Man’s handshake is as good as his word, I expect. Even with you, Martin.” Stan gave him a nod and then ambled out of the room with an uneven gait.
Ty slunk back in his chair and swiveled to look out of the window, across the grounds to the corrals, where Mandy was no doubt checking on the horses for the weekend rodeo.
He could show the offer to Mandy but tell her he was saying no.
That would be the easy way out.
A few more weeks and it wouldn’t even be his decision anymore. He could simply delay Stan until the six months were up and not even bring it up.
But that was a coward’s way, and Ty was not a coward. Besides, Ty felt a fiduciary responsibility to present the offer.
Even knowing that showing Mandy the offer, much less accepting it, would ruin everything.
What exactly was “everything?” His role in her life was nebulous at best. He didn’t know where things stood between them, even though she’d agreed they’d stay married for a while longer. She hadn’t gotten pregnant yet, to his knowledge anyway, and it sure wasn’t for lack of trying. A smile formed on his lips. No, it wasn’t for lack of trying.
Thing was, he wanted to stay married. He wanted to stay with Mandy.
He’d fallen in love with his wife.
* * *
“It is a good offer,” Brian said as he held the paper in his hand.
Being a lawyer himself and conversant in contract law, Ty had already made
that assessment. He hadn’t come to the Prescott family lawyer for legal advice. He needed objectivity. Every fiber in his being said to reject it, while every inch of his brain said to accept it. He’d never had such conflicting feelings about a deal before. He’d always prided himself on making the right decision. That was easy when the only consideration had been to maximize the investment.
Come to find out, that hadn’t been the only consideration his partners had wanted. And he had walked away precisely because he felt his partners had lost their objectivity.
Now he found himself in the same circumstance. He didn’t want a cool, detached, unemotional decision. He wanted one that took into account Mandy’s dreams and hopes and aspirations. One that included him in those dreams of hers. But he was at a loss of how to value that versus the hard, cold facts of a good financial deal.
“That’s the problem.” Ty paced the window-lined office, hoping it would relieve the pressure building in his chest.
Was he being selfish by putting his desire to be part of her life ahead of making her a wealthy woman? One who would never want for anything?
Right now she’d resent him for selling her company. But she would have enough money to start her own enterprise, albeit on a smaller scale, considering she’d have to split the proceeds with her brother, and her mother would be entitled to a stipend. Twenty years from now, when who knew where the rodeo industry and the economy were headed, she might thank him.
“Mandy’s not going to want to sell, regardless of the size of the offer.” Brian laid down the paper on his neat and organized desk and looked at Ty over the rim of his glasses.
“I know. But that’s why JM didn’t leave the decision to her. He asked me to do it. Hell, he made me promise I’d look after the family’s future.”
Brian eased back in his chair. He was without his suit jacket, but with his neatly pressed white shirt and a red tie choking his neck, he didn’t look comfortable.