Texas Fever

by Kimberly Raye

  To make matters worse, she volunteered for three different committees, and offered up two dozen desserts for the upcoming bake sale benefiting the local library.

  And damned if he didn’t want her in spite of it all.

  Because of it.

  She had balls. Small towns, Romeo included, tended to have a country club mind-set. If you weren’t a “member,” you weren’t welcome, period. There wasn’t a visitor’s bureau in the heart of downtown. It was the sort of place where everyone knew everyone, and until folks really got to know you—provided they even bothered—they were suspicious and downright cold.

  The meeting was a prime example. Holly sat by herself. Sure, Jim Riley sat on one side and Delilah Maxwell sat on the other because they’d come in late and all the other seats had been taken, but neither spoke to her. Hell, they didn’t even spare her a smile.

  Holly didn’t seem the least bit affected. She sat up straight and proud and looked as comfortable as if this were her hundredth meeting rather than her first.

  His chest tightened and warmth seeped through him. A feeling that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with admiration. He’d had his own home pulled out from under him and he knew what it was like to feel like an outsider.

  But at least he’d had his brothers. After her mother had died, she’d been on her own.

  She was still on her own.

  “…anyone willing to stay after tonight’s meeting to help sort and box the school clothes for the needy families, please raise your hand.”

  Her long, willowy fingers slid into the air for the countless time that night.

  “I have one volunteer. Any others? It’s for a good cause.”

  Before Josh could stop himself, he raised his own hand.

  “There we have it, folks. A dynamic duo.”

  Holly turned and their gazes met. Her full lips formed a surprised You? If there hadn’t been two rows separating them, he would have been hard-pressed not to kiss her. As it was, he was just hard.

  But the attraction between them went deeper than the heat prickling his skin and the hunger gnawing at his gut. Even more than wanting her, he connected with her. He understood the desperation that drove her. And the loneliness. He’d felt them both all those years ago after his parents had died.

  Hell, he still felt them every once in a while. In the dead of night when sleep refused to come and the memories crept up on him. But the feelings quickly faded into the regret that ate away at him and refused him any peace.

  For now.

  But he was changing that. He was putting the Iron Horse back together and absolving himself.

  “I really don’t think this is a good idea,” she told him when the meeting adjourned and he met her in the far corner of the room where the clothing donations had been stacked.

  He winked. “And here I thought you were the charitable sort.”

  “I don’t mean this.” She motioned around her at the donations. “I mean you and me.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”

  “Hardly. The whole point—” she started to say, but her words were drowned in the loud greeting that carried from across the room.

  “Holly!”

  They both turned to see Lolly Langtree and Jennifer Something-or-other—Josh wasn’t sure of her last name because she’d been married four times and was obviously anxious for number five if she kept company with the president of the Juliets. Both women smiled and waved.

  “So nice to see you,” Lolly called out.

  Holly’s full lips curved into a dazzling smile that slid between his ribs and stalled the breath in his lungs. “Nice to see you, too,” she called out.

  “The girls and I are counting down the days to the luncheon!”

  Holly’s smile faltered just a little. “Um, me, too.”

  Worry flickered in her gaze and Josh had the sudden urge to pull her close and tell her everything was going to be all right.

  Instead, he murmured, “Me, three,” when she turned back to him.

  She eyed him. “You won’t be at the luncheon.”

  “No, but I get to be at the research sessions which are a helluva lot more fun than a bunch of desperate women sipping tea and nibbling cookies.”

  He could have sworn her lips hinted at a grin, but then her expression grew serious. “You really don’t have to stay and help. I can sort this stuff myself.”

  “I volunteered.”

  “So did I, but only because I want to get to know the members of the community.”

  “I’m a member.”

  “A temporary one.”

  “Meaning it’s pointless to get to know me.”

  “I think I know you well enough.”

  “You’ll know me a lot better before it’s all said and done, cupcake.” His voice was deep and husky as he leaned just a little too close, his hand brushing hers as he reached for a nearby box.

  Hunger flared in her gaze. But then she stiffened and her expression became guarded. “I really think we should get to work.” She turned away and put some distance between them as she retrieved a large stack of boys’ blue jeans.

  The minutes ticked by as Josh put together the empty boxes and taped up the bottoms while Holly sorted the clothes.

  “So you’re a pilot?” Her soft voice eventually broke the silence.

  “I run a charter service out of Phoenix, Arizona. I’ve got an apartment there, but I don’t get home much. I fly a lot.”

  “I was in Phoenix once. My mother and I lived there for about four months before we moved to Kansas City.”

  “I thought you grew up in Chicago?”

  “I grew up everywhere. Phoenix. Kansas City. Denver. Houston. New Orleans. Chicago.” Her hands faltered on a pair of jeans and they slipped from her hands. “We were living in Chicago when she died.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Eight.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “I never knew him, and my mom really didn’t, either. She was young and vulnerable and lonely, and he was little more than a one-night stand. She contacted him after the fact and told him about the pregnancy and he urged her to have an abortion. She refused and decided to raise me alone.” Her lips trembled and he had the sudden urge to slide an arm around her, pull her close and simply hold her. And talk to her.

  Christ, he was friggin’ crazy. Most of his time with the opposite sex had been spent between the sheets or in the cockpit of his airplane or on top of his kitchen table—anywhere the carnal urge might strike. He’d never really talked to a woman before. Sure, he’d had a few try to talk to him, but he’d always been too busy to take the time.

  Hell, he’d never wanted to take the time.

  Until now.

  “Denver’s one of my favorite cities,” he heard himself say. “There’s nothing more beautiful than cruising over snow-capped mountains.”

  She shrugged. “It was pretty, but I liked Houston the best. That’s why I moved there to start my business.” Her gaze twinkled. “I never would have figured you for a snow bunny.”

  “I like the way it looks from the cockpit of a plane, but I’d trade freezing my nuts off for a Texas summer any day.” His grin faded as he eyed her. “I like it hot.”

  How hot?

  The question was there in her gaze. In the way her chest hitched and her nipples pebbled beneath the pink T-shirt. In the sudden color that flushed her cheeks and the way her tongue darted out to slick the plump fullness of her bottom lip.

  “The old folks around here call it Texas Fever. They say when it reaches a certain temperature outside, it causes a light-headedness that can be addictive.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  He shrugged. “I know I like it hot enough that it gets hard to breathe. So hot you can’t really think anymore.” He pinned her with a gaze and his voice grew husky. “So hot the only thing you can do is feel.”

  Sweaty skin and damp sh
eets and one body driving into the next.

  She turned, as if his answer was more than she’d bargained for, and busied herself for several tense moments.

  “So how long have you been flying?” she finally asked, as if she needed to do something with her mouth.

  He knew the feeling. He wanted to do something with his own mouth, but all of the possibilities were sure to get him arrested. It was a public meeting hall, after all, and a few of the commerce members lingered here and there, finishing off the refreshments and catching up on the latest gossip.

  He licked his lips, ignoring the urge to pull her close and take a long, delicious taste of her and focused on the memories stirring inside of him. “I got my pilot’s license when I was nineteen.”

  “Did you always want to be a pilot?”

  “I didn’t plan it. I used to have a thing for cars back in high school. It was the one thing me and my dad did together before he died. He had a special thing he did with each of us individually so that we didn’t have to share everything in our lives. That’s what usually happens with most multiples. They wind up sharing everything. But not us. Not with my dad.”

  “Sounds like he was a good man.”

  “When it came to being a dad. He wasn’t much of a husband, but then my parents weren’t exactly a love match.” He wasn’t sure why he’d told her that. The words just came out and he hadn’t tried to stop them. “My dad was set to inherit the biggest ranch in the Hill Country and my mom was the only child of the owner of the second biggest spread. It only made sense that they join forces and make the Iron Horse that much bigger.”

  “Especially since your grandfather had given some of it away to his mistress.”

  “I’m sure that was the thinking at the time.”

  “So your father didn’t love your mother?”

  “Are you kidding?” He shrugged. “I don’t think he ever believed in the concept. I know she didn’t.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “She told me so the night she died.” Enough, a voice whispered. The same voice that told him to walk away whenever any woman tried to get into his head, in addition to his bed.

  But Holly didn’t want to get close to him. She wanted sex.

  “She’d had a hard time getting pregnant with me and my brothers,” he heard himself say. “We were the result of several years of fertility treatments. She didn’t think she could ever conceive again, but she did. Sixteen years later.”

  “She had another baby?”

  He shook his head. “She started bleeding one evening and had to be rushed to the hospital over in Cherrywood. She found out she was pregnant and having a miscarriage all in the same night. My father should have been there with her, but he wasn’t.” His gaze met Holly’s. “He was out with another woman.”

  “He had a girlfriend while he was married to your mother?”

  “He had a lot of girlfriends. I didn’t know who he was with, but I knew what he was doing. She knew it, too, but she asked me anyway.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “That he was playing poker at the Elk’s Lodge. That’s when she told me that it didn’t matter anyway. She’d never loved him and he’d never loved her and their marriage had been one of convenience.” He wiped a hand over his eyes, as if he could blot out the image of his mother staring back at him from the hospital bed, her eyes knowing. Filled with disappointment. “She didn’t want me to, but I went looking for him anyway. By the time I found him and we got back to the hospital, it was too late.” At her questioning look, he added, “They did a DC, but something went wrong and her uterus ruptured. She bled to death before anyone realized what was happening. When my dad heard the news, he felt so guilty that he took off like a bat out of hell and wrapped his GTO around a telephone pole. Just like that, they were both gone and it was just me, my brothers and my grandfather.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It all happened really fast. At the same time, it was the longest night of my life.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I was only eight when my mom was killed in a car accident. But it wasn’t instantaneous. She lingered in the hospital for twenty-six hours. I tried to see her, but they wouldn’t let me. I had to sit in the waiting room with one of our neighbors.” She shook her head and her eyes took on a pained light. “I knew she was hurt, but I didn’t think she was going to die.” She blinked at the sudden brightness that filled her eyes. “I just wish I had been able to see her one last time.” She shook her head. “So what was your special thing with your dad?”

  “He and I worked on cars. With my middle brother, Mason, he roped calves and helped him with his rodeoing. With my youngest brother, Rance, he played touch football.”

  “Rance? Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “He played pro ball for the Dallas Cowboys after college. He took them to several play-offs before he injured his knee.”

  “I guess we’re all drawn to the familiar.” She set a stack of neatly folded blue jeans in a box and taped it up. “Like me and my baking.”

  “Your mother used to bake?”

  She nodded. “One of the many jobs my mother had was at a bakery in Houston. They didn’t pay very well, but they let her bring home the leftovers. Cookies. Cupcakes. Pies. I was only little, but I remember waiting up every night for her and that white bakery bag. When I opened it, there was always this sweetness that filled the air. When she died, one of the things I missed most was that smell.”

  “So you bake because the smell reminds you of her.”

  “Actually, I bake to make money, which is why I specialize in aphrodisiac desserts.”

  “Because sex sells?”

  She nodded. “But I first started back in college because it helped me feel a little less lonely. That’s probably why you’re so into planes.” At his puzzled glance, she added, “Because they remind you of the cars, which remind you of your dad.”

  “A Cessna is a far cry from a Corvette.”

  “Obviously, but under the hood they probably have a few similar parts.”

  He shook his head as if to dismiss the notion, but it stayed with him long after they’d finished boxing up the donated clothes and he watched her climb into her Navigator.

  Because deep down Josh feared she was right.

  HOLLY WAS this close to having a major meltdown.

  Both physically—from the lust blazing inside of her—as well as mentally—small-town living could be a major bitch.She stood on her front porch early Friday morning and stared at the taillights of Duke’s pickup as it disappeared up the road. With the special ingredients, namely wild green oats and saw palmetto berries, she’d ordered online Wednesday afternoon. She had no doubt that the herb company had shipped everything as requested. For over two years, her shipments had come from Herb Express like clockwork.

  Until she’d moved to Romeo.

  Okay, a voice whispered. So you didn’t get it yesterday and you’re not getting it first thing this morning? That doesn’t mean Duke won’t stop by later in the day. He knows who you are now and you’re obviously making an effort to get to know him. He’s just busy delivering a heart or an aesthetic limb or some other must-have, and he’ll get to you soon.

  She clung to the hope and turned to walk back into the house. She had half a mind to head upstairs and crawl back into bed. Exhaustion tugged at every muscle. Her eyes felt gritty and sandy.

  At the same time, her heart pumped faster than usual and expectancy fluttered in the pit of her stomach. There was no way she could fall back to sleep.

  As if she’d slept in the first place.

  Rather, she’d spent the night tossing and turning and fantasizing about Josh McGraw and the next recipe.

  About tonight.

  She forced aside the thought as she walked into her kitchen. Right now, she had work to do. The last thing she needed was to think about Josh spread out on the sofa in room number fou
r. Wearing nothing but several well-placed pineapple rings and a smile. Her tummy tingled and her hands trembled.

  So much for not thinking about him.

  She reached her daily production grid and managed to sort ingredients. She’d just folded in some freshly ground coriander for a batch of Venus Vanilla Mousse when she heard the rattle of Sue’s orange Honda.

  Not too shabby for a woman on the edge.

  “Mornin’.” Sue wobbled through the kitchen door on two-inch red stilettos with straps that wound up her calves. A red spandex tube dress clung to her thin frame, pushing and pulling with each step. Crimson lipstick and black-rimmed eyes completed today’s sex kitten ensemble. She hooked her purse near the door, tugged at the bodice of her dress and reached for her apron.

  Her gaze was expectant when she turned back to Holly. “Did Duke make it by here?”

  “He sure did.” Sue smiled, but the expression died when Holly added, “He drove right in front of me without so much as tapping the brakes.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure he’ll make it by later.”

  Holly poured the contents of the mixing bowl into a baking pan and barely resisted the urge to grab a spoon and scrape the bottom.

  She wasn’t upset or uptight. Upset or uptight meant vanilla and she was determined to have more of a calm, chocolate mint sort of day.

  “We’ll keep our fingers crossed,” Sue added.

  “I think it’s going to take more than that.” Holly fed the pan into the oven and set the timer.

  “Like what?”

  “How are you at human sacrifice?”

  “If the human in question is a bleached blonde with big boobs and Daisy Duke shorts, I’m good to go.”

  Holly grinned, but it did little to ease her overall worry. While she’d been stockpiling extra supplies with daily trips to the Food-o-rama, she’d accumulated just enough basic ingredients to get her through today which marked a whopping three days since Duke’s first and last delivery. The manager, a sour-faced Mr. Morton, had confronted her yesterday in front of the vanilla extract and informed her that the store had a quantity limit on all items—namely all of the items in her basket. She remembered the conversation quite clearly.