Convincing Cara (Wishing Well, Texas Book 2)

by Melanie Shawn

  “Umm…I just got moved to the digital department. I’m going to be doing a weekly lifestyle blog,” she explained as she scanned the grassy area, which was growing more and more crowded.

  “So, is that full-time, then?”

  She’d been working towards a full-time position since she’d taken the internship at the magazine when she was a junior in college. After college, they’d hired her as a contract employee, but if she was full-time, that was huge.

  “Yep.” Her lips popped the P at the end as her head bobbed up and down in a nod. “I’m going to have a permanent byline.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  I stared at her profile, trying to figure out why she wasn’t more excited about this development. It had been a year since we’d had lunch at Circle M and talked about what we wanted as far as our careers went. At the time, she’d been a little discouraged because, with print becoming less and less popular and personal blogs saturating the marketplace, the magazine had been laying writers off left and right. But Cara, being the glass-half-full girl she was, had said that she wasn’t going to throw in the towel. They’d have to come and pry it from her hands. Now, it looked like she got to keep her towel.

  Still, that was a year ago. Maybe her goals had changed.

  “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

  “Mmm, hmm,” she hummed.

  “Okay, am I missing something? Why aren’t you more excited?”

  “Oh, uh, I don’t know.” She turned her head towards me, and I saw confusion swimming in her baby blues. It looked as if she hadn’t even considered being more excited about it. “I found out a couple of days after my last doctor’s appointment. Oh, and the same day that I got the call from my editor, Colton got offered that show overseas.”

  Cara’s older brother had been on a reality show a few years prior called Fairytale Love. He’d made it to the finale, and even though he hadn’t ended up with the happily-ever-after, he had been a fan favorite on the show and his popularity had skyrocketed overnight. Now, he was a legitimate reality TV star. Over the past few years, he’d appeared on several more shows, which always led to personal appearances, not to mention press junkets. Since he couldn’t run the ranch while being away so much, he’d hired my brother Travis and me to take care of things. On top of all the physical labor of running the large operation, I was also the foreman.

  The show Colton was headed to now was a new reality program that had been pitched to him as Survivor meets Big Brother. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. It could be anywhere from one to six months.

  Letting out a sigh, Cara pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. Her voice sounded like she was a million miles away as she sighed. “I guess, with everything going on, my promotion kind of got lost in the shuffle.”

  Cara’s innate vulnerability was matched only by her strength. It always brought out the caveman side of me. As much as I admired her tenacity and her unbreakable spirit, I wanted to take every worry, every fear, every ounce of uncertainty away from her and make everything in her life right. This girl had held the weight of the world on her shoulders for far too long, and it was time someone else carried it for a while. I might not have been able to do that, but I sure as hell could tell her how proud I was of her.

  “Well, it shouldn’t have. I know how hard you worked. Congratulations!” I exclaimed as I wrapped my arms around her small form and hauled her to my chest. “I’m so proud of you!”

  At first, her entire body was stiff, but after a few seconds, she melted into me like a body pillow. It wasn’t physically possible for my heart to expand like a balloon, but that’s what it felt like was happening in my chest. It always did when Cara was in my arms. The feeling of rightness, of contentment, of possession was almost indescribable.

  “Thanks.” Her muffled voice was barely audible as she nuzzled against me.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled the peach scent of her soft, blonde hair. It was my favorite smell in the entire world. My mom’s famous brownies were second.

  Everyone in the park—hell, the entire world—disappeared as I held Cara. Nothing existed but the two of us. Not doctors, not promotions, not the ranch, not my family. All of that slipped away. My entire awareness was laser-focused on the girl who had stolen my heart one random day as she’d run laughing through a field, and she’d never given it back.

  A girl’s voice invaded our private moment, and just as quickly as everything had faded, my senses returned in a flash.

  “Trace!”

  Cara pulled out of my hold, and she blinked several times, a dazed look on her beautiful face. Her breaths were coming in shorter pants than usual, and her cheeks had a light-pink stain to them.

  “Trace! I saved you a seat!” the same girl shouted again.

  Without looking up, I recognized the voice as belonging to Lizzy Green. She’d been texting me and hitting me up on Facebook a lot over the summer. I liked her, she was a sweet girl, but I had no interest in anyone but the person sitting beside me.

  Somewhere in the back of my consciousness, I knew I needed to acknowledge Lizzy, who was trying desperately to get my attention. But, like a magnet drawn to steel, I couldn’t seem to break my gaze away from Cara.

  “You can go sit with Lizzy. You don’t have to wait with me. The girls aren’t coming.”

  “I know,” I admitted.

  “You know?” Her gaze shot to mine.

  “Yep.” I popped my P the same way she had. Then, scanning the crowd, I located Lizzy, who was standing up and waving her hands. Sitting up straighter, I called out, “Hey, Liz! I’m gonna hang here. But thanks.”

  “You don’t have to,” Cara snipped.

  “I know.”

  She was still a little breathless as she spoke, “I’m not even sure I’m going to stay.”

  “You are,” I answered confidently.

  “I am?” Her eyebrows rose as her lips turned up in a small, sassy grin.

  “You are.”

  After a few moments where the jury seemed to be out, she finally sat back and sighed. “Fine.”

  It was the same sigh she exhaled every time she popped open a carton of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey, which she maintained was her greatest guilty pleasure.

  Then, as if on cue, like we were in a movie of our own, the wall of the courthouse illuminated with a frame welcoming the town to tonight’s Movies in the Park showing of Ghost. Our mayor’s voice sounded over the speakers as she talked about the rating and running time of the film.

  I couldn’t count the number of girls I’d spent Saturday nights in this park with. They’d been snuggled between my legs, their heads resting on my chest as we watched and made out—mostly made out—during whatever was showing.

  As much of an asshole as it made me, the truth was that all of those other girls had just been seat fillers. Because there had only been one girl I’d actually wanted to share the experience with and she was sitting beside me now. I didn’t have the right to pull her between my legs and wrap my arms around her waist. Yet. Tonight, I’d have to be satisfied with sitting next to her and knowing that, for whatever reason, I was the guilty pleasure she was indulging in this evening.

  Yeah, I could live with that.

  Chapter 7

  Cara

  “Your ears must be burnin’ like bare feet on a hot tin roof.”

  ~ Dolly Briggs

  “What are you going to wear?” Harmony asked over FaceTime.

  “I’m not sure.” I had three dresses in my closet that I’d never worn before and tonight I was going to take one of them for a spin.

  Excitement or nerves—most likely nerves—fluttered in my belly as I looked at the three contenders laid out on my bed. A sleeveless, lavender mid-thigh; a coral turtleneck bodycon; and a red, form-fitting halter that hit me just above my knee. All three covered the one part of my body I did not want to show tonight—my port scar—so that was not a consideration.
>
  “Hey, I’m sorry for bailing on you Saturday night.”

  It hadn’t surprised me that Destiny had felt really bad for not having been able to make it. But feeling bad for things wasn’t really Harmony’s style. Our auburn-haired angel was a live-in-the-moment, fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants, take-no-prisoners, no-regrets kinda gal.

  “Don’t apologize. You had food poisoning. It’s not your fault,” I assured her as I picked up the flowing, light-purple, empire-waist dress and held it up to me. Then I pivoted towards the oval, full-length mirror in the corner of my room.

  “I know. I just feel bad that you got stuck there with Trace.”

  Aha! There it is. This “apology” was a means to an end. A fishing expedition of sorts.

  “It was fine.” It was more than fine, but there was no way I was going to admit that to Harmony. Not only was she Trace’s sister, but she was like a bloodhound, and once she got on the trail of something she was relentless in pursuing it.

  I had actually managed to not think about him—or that I’d finally been the girl sitting next to Trace Briggs on Saturday night while watching the movie in the park—for the last ten minutes. Which was a record. Over the past few days, my mind had been on a constant loop of the moments, the looks, the conversation, and the innocent touches we’d shared.

  “I saw Lizzy in the Spoon, and she said that you and Trace were all over each other.” Harmony’s tone was not quite a resident of Accusation Town, but it was definitely on the border.

  “Lizzy’s a drama queen.” Inhaling slowly through my nose, I worked to maintain a neutral expression. It was harder than you might think. Just the mention of his name caused the nervous flutter in my stomach to amplify significantly.

  “True,” Harmony concurred. “Buuuuut, Mrs. Patterson who happened to be picking up a pie for her Bible study group, overheard our conversation, and eagerly backed up Lizzy’s claim. She even added that you two were ‘making lovey-dovey eyes’ at each other. Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

  Even in the small screen Harmony’s face was illuminated on, I could see her eyebrows rising in question. My heart started racing, and my palms were wetter than the back porch after a week of rain. But I didn’t dare let any of that show.

  There was only one way to deal with this. Sarcasm.

  “Yeah. Trace and I went at it like rabbits right in the middle of the park. I figured, since the entire town had been there for me, supporting me through my treatment, they deserved to see me lose my virginity. It’s really the least I could have done.” I picked up the coral dress, which was contestant number two, and tried to act as unfazed by this topic as possible.

  “Wow. Now I really am sorry I missed the show.”

  Harmony’s response led me to believe that the subject had been dropped. My relief was short-lived when her next inquiry shot more holes in that theory than Swiss cheese.

  “But, seriously. What’s the 411, hon? Obviously you gave them somethin’ to talk about.”

  All right, so sarcasm hadn’t worked. Next up: redirection.

  “You can’t mix your Mary J. Blige references with Bonnie Raitt,” I said. “You’re better than that.”

  “Umm, yes I can. Obviously. I just did it seamlessly, which shows how good I am. Now stop avoiding the question.”

  I could have made up some excuse and said that I had to go. Actually, it wouldn’t have been an excuse; I really did need to get ready. But, if I didn’t address this now, I was scared it was going to expand like a loaf of bread with too much yeast. The tiniest sliver of a story spread faster in this small town than the Road Runner on speed.

  Sitting on my bed, I picked the phone up so that it didn’t look like I was “avoiding” anything. “Trace just gave me a hug. That’s all. His timing just happened to be when Lizzy was trying to get his attention to tell him that she’d saved him a seat.”

  As much as I’d tried to keep my tone level, it had changed when I’d said Lizzy’s name. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the girl. She was fine. Nice, even. My one and only issue with her was that she’d spent the entire summer making a very strong, very obvious play for Trace. From what I’d seen, it had been unsuccessful, but that could change in a blink of an eye if Trace’s track record held true.

  The green-eyed monster had visited me on a much more regular basis lately. Over the past couple of years, whenever I’d been confronted with Trace’s flavor of the month—or sometimes week or day—jealousy had erupted in me with volcanic force. Hot, envious lava had flooded my senses. I’d even snapped at Destiny when I’d mistakenly thought that Trace had sent her a bouquet of flowers. They’d actually been from JJ. But, for a few seconds before that info had come to light, I’d been ready to lose it.

  I wasn’t stupid. Naïve, maybe, but not stupid. I knew he was not one to spend his nights alone. Not that he got into serious relationships. No, it was more like he was frog-jumping from casual lily pad to casual lily pad. There was a very good possibility that Lizzy’s lily pad was going to be his next hop.

  “Okay. So, why the sudden public display of affection?” Harmony asked, sounding suspicious.

  It was a hug. Calling it a “public display of affection” was a bit dramatic.

  “Because I told him that the magazine offered me a full-time position in their digital department with my own byline.”

  “They did! When? Why didn’t you tell me? Oh my god, congratulations!” Her face enthusiastically bounced up and down in the frame.

  “Thanks!” I smiled. “It was a few weeks ago—”

  “A few weeks?! Why am I just hearing about this now?” she asked before I had a chance to answer just that.

  Shaking my head slightly, I explained, “I didn’t tell anyone. I found out a few days after my doctor’s appointment. Actually, it was the same day Colton got cast in that new show. I guess I just… It kind of got lost in the shuffle.”

  “Well, damn, girl. Your life is seriously coming together! First your health, then your career, and now your personal life. You are on fiyah!”

  I didn’t feel like I was on fiyah. I felt like I was living someone else’s life. Maybe it was that I’d been so conditioned for getting bad news. I was really good at coping and surviving, but my living skills were lacking. I was so used to my life being put on hold that, now that the play button had been pushed, I wasn’t sure I recognized the song as the soundtrack to my life.

  “Okay, well, we are definitely going to need to celebrate your new position.” Harmony clapped her hands. “But we’ll need to back-burner that for now and deal with more pressing matters, like what you’re going to wear tonight.”

  Setting down the phone, I held each dress up to me so that Harmony could see them.

  “Red one. No contest,” she stated firmly.

  I was keenly aware that my friend had called under the guise of helping me pick out what to wear. Her true motivation had been to find out info on the gossip. Still, I figured I would take her advice and go with the crimson dress. She’d always had really great fashion sense, and I was suddenly feeling incapable of making even the simplest life decisions. My first real date was in less than two hours, and I was freaking out.

  “Did you get the pictures of Peter I texted you?” Harmony asked.

  I nodded. She’d sent several shots of him. Not that she’d really needed to, I’d already known what he looked like thanks to a little light Internet stalking. At first, I’d felt kinda creepy, but that quickly went away when it turned out to be so much easier than I’d expected. In a few clicks, starting with finding him on Harmony’s friends list, I was able to not only see pictures of Peter, but also what his interests were, what movies and music he liked, and all the places he’d “checked into” over the past month.

  From what I’d gathered, he loved barbeque and the gym. Which I guessed made sense. If you were going to eat barbeque every day and you wanted to stay in shape, then you’d better be hitting the gym.

  “All right. T
ext me when dinner’s over. If you don’t end up spending the night, we should meet up at the Tipsy Cow for a rundown.”

  “Spend the night! I’m not going to spend the night with him on the first date!” I couldn’t believe she’d actually said that.

  Well, that’s not true. This was Harmony after all.

  “Never say never.” She winked before disconnecting the call.

  Plopping back down on my bed, I stared up at my ceiling. Tonight was my first step in living. I was meeting a guy who was good-looking, interested, and, from what Harmony had said, really funny. I should have been excited. I should have been looking forward to this new phase in my life, Peter, and all the possibilities that would come with meeting him.

  But Peter wasn’t the one on my mind at all. Nope. I was completely consumed with the hope that Trace would be coming in from the fields as I was on my way to the car, and he’d catch a glimpse of me in the red dress I’d be wearing. Instead of wanting to impress Peter, I was wishing on all the stars in Texas that Trace would not only see me, but be affected by what he saw.

  So, yep. This was definitely a problem.

  Chapter 8

  Trace

  “If everything’s comin’ your way, you’re in the wrong lane.”

  ~ Dolly Briggs

  “Shit,” I hissed, yanking my hand back as a searing pain shot through me after I’d sliced a small chunk of skin off my thumb.

  The harrow had stalled, and I’d been trying to bring it back to life. Drops of blood dripped on the hay beneath my feet. I grabbed the handkerchief I always kept in my back left pocket and wrapped it tightly around my thumb.

  My shoulders bunched in frustration.

  I’d been working on farm equipment since I could walk and I hadn’t burned or cut myself since my balls had dropped. That was up until the last hour. I figured I should call it a day to avoid serious bodily harm. My mind was not on work, and I didn’t see that changing. Exactly sixty minutes ago, when I’d been driving in from the fields for the day, Cara had left her house in a red dress that advertised as bright as the lights on the Las Vegas Strip that she had the face of an angel and a body made for sin.