by Marie Harte
Her eyes twinkled. “Sure thing, cowboy. Safety first. Eyes on the road and all that.”
“Smart-ass.”
“So does your whole family work on the ranch? Are you the only one who got away?”
“We all get away and end up comin’ back, working at the ranch.” He paused, missing his family a lot all of a sudden. After clearing his throat, he continued, “It’s tradition that when we graduate high school, we hit the service. It’s our choice, though to hear Daddy tell it, only a real man goes into the Corps.”
“Corps?”
He sighed. “Marine Corps. Come on, Bree. Keep up.”
“I’ll give you something to keep up,” she muttered.
He bit back a grin. “So Daddy, like his daddy and granddaddy and so on before him, signed up. Got out as a gunnery sergeant years later, then settled down on the ranch and married my momma. Liam and Oliver both did their time in and got out after four years, though Liam rebelled by going Air Force. Wyatt served for six years before he got out. Had some hard times over there, but he’s straight and all now.” He glanced over at her.
Bree nodded, her eyes soft with concern. “What about you?”
“I played for a year in college, knowing I wouldn’t stay. Did my tour in the Marines. Six-year contract. Loved the hell out of it too.” He smiled, remembering his friends, his time served with pride and dedication.
“Why did you get out?”
“I felt it wasn’t gonna be my everything, you know? I was a grunt. Basic infantry. The hard work, the backbone really, of the USMC. I was good at it.”
“I’ll bet, Mr. Muscles.”
He grinned. “But then I moved out here and fell in love with firefighting. My parents weren’t happy I didn’t come home to stay.” He pulled into the driveway, and they left and locked up the car. “But what can you do? Texas is my home, my family. But so is Seattle.” He smiled at her.
“Do you think you’ll move back any time soon?” she asked, though he thought he heard something deeper in the question.
“Who knows? Not anytime soon, for sure. This is a good life. I have great friends, a kick-ass girlfriend, and a dream job. Hell, I might even get my face in an art gallery. Can’t be doing that in Texas now, can I?”
She laughed and slung her bag over her shoulder. “No, you can’t. But you know what you can do?”
“What?” he asked as they walked into his home and were greeted by an enthusiastic Bubbles.
“You can get that water running. I need to clean up before I make you the best Sunday brunch cake you’ve ever had.”
“Brunch cake. Sounds perfect.”
Except he didn’t get the dessert he’d really been hankering for—a side of wet, naked girlfriend in the shower. Bree insisted on bathing alone, despite his wheedling, and forced him to clean up after she’d finished first.
When he returned, fresh as a freaking daisy, she was at work in the kitchen making him a hell of a breakfast.
“Surprise.” She smiled. “I know you hate mornings. And you listened to me rant for a good mile.”
“More like two.”
She continued to smile. “Don’t be an ass. As I was saying, this breakfast is for you.” The pancakes had been decorated with eggs for eyes and a strip of bacon for a mouth. A cup of fresh fruit sat to the side.
He looked at the food, back up at her smile, and felt his heart race off the cliff and break at her feet. The warmth of her care had him feeling so much, and he had to take a step back from the emotional precipice for fear of making a terrible leap before she was ready to catch him.
What had he told the guys? That he’d make her fall in love with him?
Yeah, right.
“Tex?” She frowned.
“I just…” He coughed to clear his throat. “I’m so disappointed.”
“You—what?”
“I was expecting a naked Bree covered in a half apron serving me cake. Like, cutting it and feeding it to me.” He sighed. “I guess this is good too.”
He laughed when she balled a towel and threw it at his head. Hurrying around the kitchen island to hug her in thanks, he muffled her anger with kisses.
She pulled back, grumbling. “That’s a little better.”
“If I tell you how amazin’ you are right now, your head will get too big. Then you’ll leave me for a prettier fella. And I’ll never be the same.”
“You got that right.” She poked him in the side, and he flinched. “Ha. I know your vulnerable spots, buddy. You just watch yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her again and sighed against her mouth. “Thanks for the happy pancakes, Bree.” He pulled back. “Can we eat together now? We can talk about how awful Melissa is and how much my brothers are going to like you.”
“Oh, well, that sounds like a plan. And don’t think the chocolate cake is off the table. I’m making that after we’re finished here.”
Tex tucked away a stack of pancakes and could have eaten more. “Woman, you can cook. This is even better than your baked chicken.”
“Wow, that good, huh?” She laughed, still working through her breakfast. She paused before taking the next bite. “Can I tell you something?”
He sipped his coffee, wondering if taking a few more pancakes would make him look like a pig. Probably.
“Tex,” she said.
“Huh? Sorry. My brain is full on pancakes.”
She smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “Can I tell you something?”
“You can tell me anything. I mean it.”
“I’m worried.”
“About…?” Him? Her dad? Their relationship? Carrie?
“The art grant.”
He frowned, not having considered that. “Why?”
She put her fork down and ran a hand through her hair, which she’d left down. It was so pretty, a curtain of gold framing the most interesting face in the world.
Tex loved watching her, not just to take in her beauty but to study the expressive way she reacted to things. And then she’d talk, and he’d hear all that intelligence and think what a hell of a package Bree Gilchrist really was.
“Sometimes, I don’t think I can do it. I’m not that good, and people will find out.”
“Not that good?” He blinked. “Are you kidding?”
She blushed. “No. I’m a good photographer. I can capture a smile, a pose, an aspiration of art. But the real emotion, the life behind the still, sometimes I think I’m only seeing what I want to see. And I want to be a great photographer, not just good. A true artist. So, tell me I can do it. That I have it in me to be great.” She looked at him for hope. Guidance. Advice, maybe?
He had plenty. “You’re on crack.”
“I—what?”
“Bree, everyone can see the way you work. You have an eye for it. Even Carrie said so.”
“She’s my friend.”
“She’s also known for telling the truth. And honey, you’re hot as hell. But no way they gave you twenty-five grand because you’re pretty when you hold a camera.”
She flushed. “No, I earned that grant.”
“Then why the lack of confidence? I understand nerves. It’s a big fuckin’ deal. But come on. You’re the one telling me how lucky I am to have you. Are you telling me you’re not worth it?”
“This isn’t a relationship thing, Tex.” She flew out of her seat and started pacing. “Don’t you get it? It’s such a huge deal. Everyone I know, who knows me, who knows my dad, will see my work. And that’s just at the showing. Then there’s the gallery. The. Gallery. What if my project isn’t up to IAG standards?”
“Then fuck ’em.”
She stopped pacing and stared at him. “That’s your answer? Fuck ’em?”
“Look, you’re an artist. And you’re blond,” he said to g
et a rise out of her. “It’s pretty much a given you’re going to be flaky.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“But, honey, no way anyone is going to blow smoke up your ass and call it a masterpiece. If that IAG chick called to ask you to show your stuff, it’s because she knows you’re a quality date.”
“Huh?”
A quality date: you’ll blow and swallow, and that don’t come cheap—a phrase his brother had once used on his fiancée as a compliment. That Natalie still married Liam had baffled everyone. But for some reason the phrase made sudden sense to Tex.
“What I’m trying to say is you’re smart and talented, and you don’t seem to know how rare that is. That you’re not all conceited and bitchy.” She just stared at him, so he tried again. “Ever heard the phrase ‘you’ll blow and swallow, and that don’t come cheap’?”
“I… I want to say you’re complimenting me, but I can’t figure out how.” Her eyes narrowed.
He flushed. “I know that was crude. But I’m trying to make a point.”
“That I’m weak-willed because I’ll swallow on the first date—which I didn’t, by the way? Or that I’m a dumb blond?”
Well, at least now you look pissed at me and not scared of the heavy weight on your shoulders. “I’m saying the IAG lady knows art. She knows what an honor it is to get that grant. And she’s seen your work. You’ve been around long enough for people to know you with or without this huge hairy deal. And damn, girl. I’ve seen your stuff, and you’re the Ansel Adams of people.”
“You do know there’s more than just Ansel Adams who’s known for photography?” Her lips twitched. Finally.
“Who cares? I only know I like you. And so does the art council.”
“Council?”
He shrugged. “The fancy folks who voted you in to do the project. They believe in you. I do. You should believe in you.”
“I do.”
Annoyed, he glared at her. “Then why all the drama?”
“I just had a moment of insecurity. I have those. I’m an arteest.” She moved closer and poked him in the side. “Deal with it.”
“I will. But you better quit poking me.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll poke you back.”
***
Bree felt like a complete idiot. She’d let her self-doubt get to her, and she’d told Tex. And like a big doofus, instead of listening and nodding and letting her get it all out, like Carrie usually did, he’d tried to solve her problems by telling her…something about being a good date?
Now Tex glared at her, her sweet, manly boyfriend with bulging biceps and a heaving, broad chest, offended because she hadn’t wept in his arms and thanked him profusely for giving her that pat on the back she needed. She wanted to both thank him for his support and correct him for not listening. All she’d wanted was a simple “you can do it.”
Instead, she poked him again.
His eyes darkened…in both anger and lust. A glance down his glorious body showed her how much he wanted to set her straight.
He wore a T-shirt and athletic shorts that reached his knees. Thin, cotton shorts that lovingly clung to every part of him.
“You poked the bear, baby. Now prepare to pay the price.”
“Bear?” She blinked as he got naked right in front of her.
Bubbles, she noticed, slunk away and buried herself in the living room under a blanket. At least one of them had some dignity. Bree wanted to mount his maypole. And it was June.
“A hungry bear. I was going to wait for chocolate cake, but I think it’s time you learned your lesson, Goldilocks.”
She bit back a laugh. “Oh. But which bear are you?” She couldn’t look away from his erection, even as she mock-cringed and taunted, “Baby bear?”
“You know, you really aren’t funnier than me.”
Then he pounced.
She shrieked and laughed, not having expected the fast move. Darting around the counter in her attempt to evade him, she feinted left then right and raced down the hall.
Tex caught her easily and pinned her against the wall in the middle of the hallway.
“Pay up, or shut up.”
She closed her mouth, zipped her lip, and tossed an invisible key.
He loomed over her, grinning. “Nah, you need to pay.”
She opened her mouth, and he kissed her.
His hands were moving, her clothing flying one way then another, but he kept kissing her.
She groaned and twined her arms around his neck, hugging him closer, and sighed when her bare breasts grazed his chest. His mouth trailed to her throat, his hands busy touching, exploring.
Then he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. God, the size of his erection against her belly was massive.
“You need something to help you feel better, Goldilocks?”
“What do you have in mind?” she said between kissing his chest, his neck, anywhere she could reach.
He slid his hand between them, angling down, and his finger disappeared inside her.
“Oh,” she gasped, staring into his eyes as he moved the digit deeper, grazing her clit with his thumb.
“Yeah, so hot for me.” He smiled, his expressions mesmerizing. Satisfied, turned on, and intense. “I think what you really need is a good fuck.”
“I think you’re right.”
He removed his finger and replaced it with something bigger. “Let’s see if this size fits just right.”
“Oh my God, stop talking.”
His laughter turned to a groan as he sheathed himself inside her. In one fast, deep thrust, he filled her completely. But her big bear didn’t give her time to get used to him. Instead, he gripped her ass and moved. In and out, deeper, banging her into the wall.
The fast, hard thrusts hit her in just the right spot time after time, until she was seeing fireworks behind closed lids and screaming her pleasure.
He followed not long after, jetting into her as he ground against her.
After some time, he leaned back to look down at her. His face flushed, his eyes dark and sleepy, he smiled. “You know, with all your insecurities, we should probably do that again. I mean, we need to find a bed that fits you, right? Because this wall just won’t do.”
“You have totally ruined fairy tales for me.”
He chuckled.
“When do you play the Big Bad Wolf who eats Little Red Riding Hood?”
“I should say I’m full from breakfast. But actually, you’re the one who’s full, aren’t you, Goldie?”
“Just stop. Please.” She tried not to laugh. Then she started and couldn’t stop.
He watched her slide down the wall in tears. “And think, we can add more innuendo on top of all my hose jokes. Man, this day just keeps getting better.” He pulled her to her feet, then hefted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“Oof.” So much for a romantic carry to his room. Dangling over his shoulder, she slapped him on the ass. “I’ve got one for you. Fire in the hole!” Her giggle turned into a snort then more laughter.
“Darlin’, ain’t no fire ever going near that hole. I can promise you that.”
She couldn’t help more laughter as she slapped him again. That ass was just begging for it! She wondered if her glutes would ever get that tight. Just…wow.
Tex gently jostled her on his shoulder. “Say, I like this fairy-tale theme. Have you ever seen the porn version of Cinderella? The prince never wears pants.”
Bree smiled at his dimpled butt. “Oh? Do tell…”
Chapter Nineteen
Bree couldn’t believe how much fun she’d been having. Tex and she laughed as they took yet another shower, this one taking longer since she’d dropped to her knees to show him how their first date might have gone had he really been Prince Charming
wearing no pants.
After praising her up and down as the best girlfriend ever, he left her to finish cleaning up while he looked after Bubbles. The poor thing had been neglected and whined at the bathroom door.
Bree finished, in no rush, and still in a fun mood. She dried herself, her hair still okay since she’d kept it out of the spray, using Tex to block the showerhead. Instead of dressing in her clothes, now out in the hallway, she decided to give him another treat. Rummaging in his closet, she found a blue uniform shirt.
She put it on, leaving it unbuttoned, and walked out into the hallway. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, his back to her as he stood, arms akimbo, staring at something she couldn’t see. Probably Bubbles.
“How about something hot for you, cowboy?” She gripped the sides of his shirt and opened it wide, showcasing her body and glancing away to let him look his fill. She liked to call it her playful model pose.
“Jesus, Bree.”
The voice didn’t come from the man in front of her, which had her jerking her head up.
And staring at a stranger.
She whipped the shirt closed, grateful it covered all her lady parts, hitting her high on the thighs, and gaped at a man who looked enough like Tex to be his slightly older twin.
And, oh Jesus, slightly behind him, a younger version of Tex, this one wearing boots with his jeans, a Pabst Blue Ribbon tee, and a very large grin. “Well, hot damn, cousin. Now I know why you moved to Seattle.”
That had the hunky, older Tex in front of her giving her the Big Bad Wolf’s own grin.
Then Tex was shoving him out of the way and hustling Bree back to his room while the men behind him whistled, clapped, and laughed.
Now that wasn’t an awkward way to meet the family. Not at all.
***
Tex was doing his best not to laugh hysterically while cringing in horror that his brother and nineteen-year-old cousin had gotten an eyeful.
“That—that wasn’t you.”
“Nope. But that was all you.” Tex sighed. “Too bad we can’t play put out the fire now that the family’s come early.” And thank God his momma hadn’t been with them. Only his brother, Wyatt, and cousin, Josh, on this particular trip. He left to grab her clothes from the hallway, returned, and closed the door behind him.