He hooked his saddle on the wall, brushed his horse down and walked toward the house that sat on the horizon. The ranch house was a sprawling one-story structure made of rock and stained wood. A massive front porch spanned from side to side. Wooden ceiling fans swirled from the high ceiling, stirring a small breeze that offered little relief from the sweltering heat.
Lights blazed inside the house and the sound of voices drifted from the kitchen where his great-uncle Eustace and great-aunt Lurline argued over supper.
“But I wanted biscuits,” Eustace told her.
“We always have biscuits. I thought cornbread would be a nice change.”
“That’s the trouble with you, Lurline. You think too much.”
“Obviously I don’t think enough, otherwise I never would have married the likes of you….”
Josh thought about joining them, but he wasn’t in the mood to play referee. Not that it would help matters. They lived to argue. Hell, he had a hunch they liked to argue given the amount of time they devoted to the task and so he’d learned to keep his mouth shut over the past few months.
He headed straight into the shower.
The minute the warm liquid slid over his aching muscles, he closed his eyes and relished the sensation. Steam rushed from the hot water and a fog quickly surrounded him. He drew in a deep breath, eager for the fog to fill his brain while the water pelted his skin.
The hotter, the better.
Just as the thought registered, an image appeared in his mind. Holly. Right there in front of him. Naked and slick and hot—
His eyes popped open and he stared down. His dick bobbed with excitement and he swore.
There would be no Holly. No naked or slick or hot. Sex wasn’t a possibility because Holly Farraday didn’t want a good roll in the hay. She wanted a relationship, and Josh had sworn off those years ago.
The knowledge should have been enough to push her out of his fantasies and into the Hands Off section of his mind. Christ, it had always been enough because Josh knew from watching every other McGraw man before him that he simply wasn’t the marrying kind. The faithful kind. The type of man who could love a woman enough to make a lifelong commitment and mean it.
Till death do us part.
Josh didn’t believe in the concept of romantic love. In all his thirty-four years, he’d never felt such a thing, and he sure-as-shootin’ had never seen it firsthand. And so, in his opinion, no such thing existed.
But lust… Now that was all too real and powerful, and more than enough to keep Josh McGraw wide-awake and wanting for the rest of the night.
5
HOLLY STIFLED a yawn and pulled another stack of ledgers from the old chest she’d been rummaging through. It was well after midnight and she would normally be asleep at this time. But she still hadn’t given up on Duke. While she’d waited, she’d decided to tackle the upstairs.
She hadn’t realized the enormity of her inheritance until she’d actually walked through the house, room to room, and realized the work ahead of her. There were knickknacks to pack away and closets to go through as she made her way through each room and decided what to keep and what to toss. She didn’t even want to think about the overgrown acres that surrounded the huge house.One thing at a time, she’d told herself.
House tonight. Yard tomorrow.
Her grandmother’s room had been the obvious starting point since Holly had decided to use the bedroom as her own. She’d targeted the three old cedar chests that stood stacked in the far corner. Clearing them out would make room for her own belongings which still sat in boxes in the living room.
The first chest contained her grandmother’s business records. The woman had kept not only a list of every transaction, but every client, as well. From her premium customers—the men who frequented more than once a week—to her Friday night regulars, to the special occasion Joes—the men who visited on various holidays and birthdays. She kept a detailed record of who not only came and went, but who came, and went. Each name was followed by an O for orgasm, followed by the name of the woman he’d kept company with, followed by an O, as well. While the majority of men came, Holly was surprised to find that the experience had been mutually satisfying for the women.
In addition to the extensive record keeping, her grandmother had kept all the appropriate financials, from profit-and-loss statements to accounts receivable. At first, it had seemed silly to Holly for her grandmother to keep such conventional documents for such an unconventional business. But the more she leafed through the various statements, including IRS forms listing the inn as a “restaurant,” she realized that the income had been too large to simply tuck away in a cookie jar. Back in the late forties, there had been few, if any, occupations for women that paid in a year what the Farraday Inn grossed on a weekly basis. Rose, however, hadn’t reaped the reward alone. She’d divided the earnings up equally between herself and her girls.
It seemed that Rose Farraday had been generous, as well as beautiful.
She’d also been creative.
Holly came to that conclusion when she unearthed the spiral notebook from the bottom of the trunk.
Holly’s heart kicked up a beat as she thumbed through the pages and realized her find. Her grandmother’s recipe book.
Her gaze scanned the first section entitled Appeteasers, which detailed step-by-step specifics for such delicacies as Stirring Cinnamon Dip, Sweet Honey Nips, Brandy Kisses and Southern Cider. The main entrées—listed as main entries—section included recipes for everything from Rose’s Back-Porch Barbecue to her Hot Doggy Delight.
Holly wanted to laugh. At the same time, her heart pounded and her blood rushed at an alarming rate. While the menu seemed almost cheesy now, back in its day it had been Rose’s ticket to sexual success. The key to dozens of satisfied men. Tried and true ways to tease and please any and every man.
The Juliets would go nuts for Rose’s recipes.
Provided they still worked every bit as well as they had fifty years ago. Probably. Maybe. Times had certainly changed. There was only one way to guarantee success—by trying out the recipes firsthand with Josh McGraw.
The minute the notion struck, heat flowered in her belly and her lips tingled.
Sure, she’d sworn off men like Josh—the here today, gone tomorrow type—when it came to relationships. But this wouldn’t be a relationship. It would be a business proposition, and the ideal way to work him out of her system. That, she needed more than anything.
Holly couldn’t stop thinking about Friday night because she’d had such an incredible orgasm. But she’d been coming off a major dry spell and so any orgasm with a man would seem incredible. It wasn’t that Josh affected her in a way unlike any other man. She knew that, but to really believe it, she needed to have sex with him again.
She savored the thought for a long moment before tucking it aside and turning her attention back to the chest. One thing at a time.
The house. The yard. Then Josh McGraw.
“HOW MUCH?” Holly’s gaze ping-ponged between the bright green-and-yellow machine and the owner of Romeo’s only hardware store. Before the man could recite the outrageous price listed on the tag hanging from the steering wheel, she shook her head. “No way am I paying eight thousand dollars for a lawn mower.”
Sure, her land was overgrown and the only thing she’d found in the old barn had been a small push mower that wouldn’t even start and she’d planned to start her garden today after cutting the grass. But thousands of dollars? For a lawn mower?“This, little lady, is a John Deere Deluxe Tractor, Model 980, the latest and most advanced system in land maintenance and cultivation,” explained Arlee Summers, the sixty-something man who’d met her at the door the minute she’d walked into Romeo’s only hardware store. He wore red overalls embroidered with Arlee’s Hardware Feed in large yellow letters across the back. He had snow-white hair, pale blue eyes and a patient smile that said he was an old pro at dealing with disbelievers. “It comes complete with a mulc
h package, a fertilizer carrier and a five-blade expansion system. It’s also got a V6 engine, a hydraulic clutch and transmission and a state-of-the-art aluminum carburetor construction.” He stroked the hood reverently. “This filly’s as fast as they come.”
“I’m going to cut grass, not enter the Daytona 500.” Her lips drew into a frown. If he thought he had a sucker standing in front of him, he had another thing coming. She was a businesswoman, for heaven’s sake. A very successful businesswoman with one of the fastest-growing companies on the Internet. “It’s a lawn mower,” she said in her best you-have-to-be-kidding tone.
“It’s got cup holders and a retractable awning.”
“I’ll take it.” Hey, she was a very successful businesswoman with one of the fastest-growing companies on the Internet and fifty acres of grass to mow and this was Texas. As in hot. As in hot.
Arlee smiled and pulled the tag from the tractor. “I’ll ring you up and have her delivered out to your place.”
“You do drive a hard bargain.” The deep voice slid into her ears and sent heat thrumming along her nerve endings. She drew a steady breath and turned to find Josh McGraw standing behind her. His blue eyes twinkled and a smile curved his full lips.
Holly tried to ignore the sudden flutter in her chest. She shrugged. “What can I say? The thought of collapsing from exposure or dehydration scares the daylights out of me.”
His smile faded. “It should. This isn’t the city with its nice, neat little neighborhoods and pretty flower gardens. You’re way out of your element now.” His gaze did a slow trek from her halter top and capri pants, to her strappy sandals—she still hadn’t managed to unearth her boots and jeans. “Taking care of a spread the size of yours would be hard and time-consuming for someone who grew up around here. You’re in over your head, even with an eight-thousand-dollar lawn mower.”
“It’s a tractor,” she corrected. “And thanks for the vote of confidence. How soon did you say you could deliver it?”
Arlee smiled. “I’ll have my delivery boy follow you out to your place right now.”
TWO HOURS LATER, Holly slid on her sunglasses, set her water bottle in the deluxe drink holder and climbed onto the tractor. The awning shielded the top of her head from the sun’s brutal rays and made the heat somewhat bearable.
For about the time it took to start the tractor.Sweat streamed down her face as she fought with the steering wheel and tried to keep the machine eating grass in a straight line.
Metal ground against rock and the tractor jumped. The front wheels took a sharp turn to the left. Holly grappled for the steering wheel. Her damp palms slid over the vinyl and rubbed her skin raw.
In less than fifteen minutes, she’d developed a newfound respect for lawn maintenance workers. Sure, it was hot in her kitchen, but she didn’t have to fight with an oven that seemed hell-bent on not working properly.
“Come on, Green Machine,” she pleaded. “Cooperate.”
The Green Machine obviously didn’t come with ears even though the price had been outrageous. She hit more rocks as she bounced along, ran over a protruding tree stump and knocked over the Welcome to the Farraday Inn sign that had sat in the yard for five decades.
“Way to go,” she told herself. “Forget getting to know your past. Just plow right over it.”
Her arms ached as she gripped the steering wheel and rounded the edge of the yard. She approached the small grassless area off to the far right that had once been a garden. Weeds grew over the edges of the white wire that outlined the space. She knew she wouldn’t be able to cut all of the overgrowth, but the goal was to get as close as possible. She could pull the rest of the weeds by hand when she planted the flowers she’d picked up in town.
“Relax,” she told herself as she cut a sharp corner just shy of the white wire that sealed off the area. “You can do this. Just skim the edges and don’t get too close.”
The thought echoed just as one of the blades struck metal and sucked up part of the wire edging. Holly kept going, determined to get back on track and get busy. But it never quite happened.
After a full hour, she’d barely finished cutting near the garden. Forget the acres and acres of overgrown grass that stretched endlessly on the other side of the white wicker fence to a far-off grove of trees.
“Are you done yet?” Sue asked as she stepped down off the porch filled with the flowers Holly had picked up at the nursery. Her sandal caught in a ball of mangled wire and she fought to get free.
“Not quite,” Holly said. “I think I’ll ask around town and see if I can get some yard help.”
“Good idea.” Sue extracted her shoe from the wire and held it up. “I’ll spread the word for you.”
WHILE CUTTING the grass hadn’t gone as planned, Holly was still determined to get on with her garden. With her how-to book in hand—she’d never actually planted a garden before—she weeded the area and started digging her holes. She spent the next several hours transferring the flowers from pot to ground. When she’d finally patted the last bit of dirt back into place, she leaned back on her haunches and surveyed her work.
Color brightened the otherwise drab area and she smiled. While the day hadn’t gone exactly as planned, she had made some progress.She dusted off her hands and headed for the water spout on the side of the house. She was busy washing the dirt from her hands when she heard the deep voice.
“You should consider my offer.”
She glanced up to see Josh standing behind her. Her gaze met his and she licked her suddenly dry lips. Her heart stalled and she felt the familiar pull between her legs. Where she’d had her doubts when the outrageous idea had first struck back in her grandmother’s room, her hesitation quickly surrendered to the need building inside her.
“Actually,” she told him, “you should consider mine.”
Surprise registered on his face and his eyebrows hitched together. “What offer?”
She licked her lips again and tried to control the sudden pounding of her heart. “The one I’m about to make.”
“LET ME GET this straight.” Josh drew a deep breath and leveled a stare at the woman sitting across the kitchen table from him. Sue had already left for the day and they were alone. The sweet scent of cupcakes drifted from across the table where she sat sipping a Diet Coke. “If I try out your grandmother’s recipes with you, you’ll sell me your land.”
“Not all of the recipes, just her most popular items. And I’m not offering all of my land, just half. Twenty-five acres. If you agree, I’ll have Mike draw up the transfer papers this afternoon.”“You’re really serious?”
“As serious as a tablespoon of pure vanilla extract.”
He ran a hand over his face and eyed her. “I don’t believe this.”
“What’s not to believe? You’ve got something I want, and I’ve got something you want. It’s good business.”
“It’s sex.”
“It’s research sex. I can’t very well share my grandmother’s recipes without trying them out first. I sample every batch of my desserts for taste and consistency and overall quality. I never pass on a product unless I know it’s wonderful. Likewise, I can’t just pass on a bunch of outdated techniques unless I know they really work.”
He couldn’t help but admire her integrity, a fact that surprised the hell out of him because Josh’s admiration rarely extended beyond a nice ass or a gorgeous pair of legs. “Why me?”
“Because I have something you want,” she said, “and we have great chemistry.” Her gaze met his and he knew she was thinking of their explosive one-night stand. “I need to know firsthand what made the Farraday Inn so wildly popular. Who better to do it with than someone I’m attracted to? Not to mention, you’re perfect. You’re temporary.”
“Which means you won’t have to face me the morning after.”
“Exactly. It’s perfect.”
He’d been thinking the exact same thing, but there was just something about hearing her say it that made him fe
el almost angry. As if he wasn’t good enough for more in her eyes.
As if he wanted to be.
Josh dismissed the ridiculous thought. This was a dream come true. Christ, he’d been fantasizing about her for the past few days and here was his chance to turn those fantasies into real life.
“I know twenty-five acres isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s the best I can offer.”
“When do we start?”
“The speech is in three weeks. I’ve figured out that it will take us five encounters to try out all eight recipes—the first four are ‘appeteasers’ and we can do those together. Since I’m busy during the week and I’m sure you are, too, the only free time I have is on the weekend. I was thinking we could start tonight and then do both Friday and Saturday for the next two weekends. That makes five.”
“Tonight?”
She smiled then, her full, slick lips parting, and he swallowed. “Seven o’clock sharp.”
6
HOLLY HAD FANTASIZED about kissing Josh again, even before she’d come up with the brilliant idea to beef up her orgasmic experience by sampling every offering on “The Menu of Sexual Delights.” Since their first night together, she’d thought of him much too often for her own peace of mind. The enticing scent of him filling her nostrils. The warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. The delicious taste of his lips. The bold thrust of his tongue.
But the fantasy couldn’t begin to compare to the real man. He smelled even better, felt even hotter, tasted even sweeter, and he gave new meaning to the word bold as he toed the door closed with the tip of his boot later that night, backed her into the room and pressed her up against the nearest wall.The kiss that followed had her panting and clawing at his shoulders before she realized that neither were on the coveted menu. At least not this soon.
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