Burning Desire

by Marie Harte

  “I know.” Tex sniffed and cleared his throat. “Get out of here already, would you? And tell Momma I’ll call her next week.”

  “Will do. Expect to see you soon.” Wyatt’s gaze shifted to Bree. “Both of you.”

  Tex sighed and muttered, “God willing.”

  Josh was hugging Bree goodbye, a little longer than Tex liked, but Bree was laughing.

  “I promise. I’ll write you a letter. But no pictures!”

  “Pictures?” Tex frowned.

  Josh glanced over his shoulder at Tex and hurriedly entered the RV. “Bye, Li’l Pete. Come on, Wyatt. Bubbles, come, girl.”

  Bubbles gave one more longing glance at Tex before slowly climbing the steps into the RV.

  His heart gave a final lurch and settled. It was the right decision for the dog. And for him, he kept telling himself.

  Wyatt gave Bree a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “See you at Christmas.” He left soon after.

  Tex stood there watching them go, heartbroken yet hopeful.

  Bree walked next to him and took his hand in hers. Without saying a word, she turned and took him in her arms.

  And like a freakin’ baby, he hid his tears in her shoulder and hung on until the sadness passed.

  ***

  Bree couldn’t believe how emotional it was to say goodbye to Bubbles. But feeling Tex cry on her shoulder wrenched her heart wide open. What kind of man could make love to a woman like a stallion, had the ability to lose and laugh at himself, then cried, all because he missed his dog?

  A man worth loving, that’s who.

  She stroked his hair, giving him time to collect himself, glad to feel needed.

  Tex sniffed one last time and straightened. “Well, that was fuckin’ awful.”

  She gave a watery laugh, not surprised that she’d cried with him.

  “I know she’s only a dog, and I didn’t have her long, but—”

  “Tex, stop.” Bree refused to let him bury honest feelings. “She’s not even my dog and I’m sad.”

  “I…hell. I know I look like some loser, but I don’t care. She’s a great dog.” His voice cracked a little at the end, but he just cleared his throat as he regained his bearing. “She’ll be so happy at the ranch, Bree. It’s a terrific place.”

  “I believe you.”

  He drew her with him into his house and left for the bathroom. Returning a few seconds later, he still looked as if he’d been crying, but his breathing had evened, and his face was dry.

  “Thanks for being here.”

  “Of course.”

  “No, I mean, for meeting my family.” He paused. “It meant a lot. And, I, ah, I’d like you to meet the guys too. I mean, you know them. Sure. But I want us to all hang out together. Then you can see what being with me is really like.”

  “Why? Are there secret handshakes or something? Do you guys perform rituals?” She brightened just thinking about it. “Are you all naked?”

  “What? Hell, no.” He laughed. “You’re a goof.”

  “No, I’m a blond artiste,” she said for effect.

  He sighed. “Never going to live that down, am I?”

  “Nope…Li’l Pete.”

  “You can never tell anyone that name,” he said, sounding serious.

  “Why not?”

  “Bree, do you have any idea what it’s like to work and live with a bunch of people who all think they’re comedians? We still call Brad ‘Ken’ because four years ago, one of the guys at our old station said he looked like a Ken doll.”

  She blinked. “He kind of does.”

  “See? That kind of stuff stays with you. You call me Li’l Pete, suddenly, it’s not Lil Wayne or Lil Baby, it’s Lil Pete, the country rapper. They’ll have pictures of me with gold chains, rapping. And Bree, I can’t rap.” He looked horrified. “Or even worse. Peter Pan dolls everywhere with Lil Pete shirts or name tags. I’ll be known as a big, green fairy. And it will get ugly, because then I’ll be a lost boy, or a found boy, or a…”

  “Okay, okay. Reel it in. I solemnly swear to never tell anyone your name. The name your family calls you, anyway.”

  He sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t see why they can’t just call you Tex at home.”

  He cringed. “Calling a Texan boy Tex, when he’s living in Texas, around other Texans… Well, we just don’t do that where I’m from.”

  “Wow. So many rules for you Southern people.” She laughed. “Relax. I’m on your side.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  “Now, I have to get back to work. Then I have a date with Carrie at five thirty.”

  “Just you and her?”

  “So she says.” Bree sighed. “I hope we can get back together.”

  “I feel jealous.” He kissed her.

  “Oh, stop it. Not the kissing. The jealousy.”

  He laughed and kissed her again. “Thanks for being here today. It meant a lot.” He looked into her eyes, and she didn’t know how to describe the way he looked at her other than gooey. Affectionate. Maybe even…loving?

  Her heart raced.

  “Would you like to come back here after your date with Carrie? I could make dinner.”

  “We’ll probably munch our way through happy hour.”

  “Okay. Then maybe we can see each other tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  His face fell.

  “I mean, happy hour won’t last forever. And I’m sure Carrie will have plans tonight. That or just getting some sleep. I know she’s been working a lot lately. So maybe I could come back over tonight.”

  His smile brightened up her entire day. “Yeah. That would work.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  He kissed her. “See you then.”

  She left, wishing she could turn down the volume on her heart, because it felt like it had woken up to a brand-new emotion today, something she wouldn’t hesitate to call love.

  Now what to do about it remained the question.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tex cleaned his home to within an inch of its life, knowing Wyatt had been screwing with him by leaving deliberate messes all over the place. The same way he had growing up.

  Tex laughed. Such a dick. But Wyatt looked good. He seemed healthy, and he’d been back to his old, protective self, keeping an eye on Josh. And Bubbles.

  The sadness remained, but it didn’t feel as sharp. He could smile a little, thinking about how much Bubbles was going to love his momma. Sara Ann loved animals, and he knew she’d carry a soft spot for the bright-eyed, affectionate canine. His daddy too would fall all over himself for the dog while acting like he didn’t much care. Yeah, not a bad life at all that Bubbles was heading to.

  Tex rubbed his eyes and wished he didn’t feel like such a heel for crying. He had a right to cry, sad over losing his dog. Not that she ever had been. Technically, he’d been fostering Bubbles. But they’d bonded. He hadn’t had a dog in years, not since old Cricket had passed and they’d buried her on Old Dog Hill at home. He’d loved the beagle and cried a river when she’d died.

  At least this wasn’t a death. But…Bree had seen him lose it. He’d cried on her shoulder. Though most women said they wanted a sensitive guy, did they want one who cried over a dog? Would she dump him and kill their relationship over it?

  Then again, in his opinion, dogs were just about the best things on the planet. If she couldn’t understand that, then maybe she wasn’t the woman he thought she was. But she’d held him. And she’d cried too.

  Damn it. Bree belonged with him. They had to get past this holding pattern to the next level. He had to commit to taking her to see the guys. She hadn’t said no, but he hadn’t made more than a general request that they all get together.

  And now they wanted to meet her and talk
to her, get to know her.

  Reggie worried him the most. Brad would be cool. Mack would flirt a little, but he already liked her. Reggie would be the tough nut to crack, the man still hurting from a hard fall, having given his heart to a woman who didn’t want it. What if Reggie said something that offended her? Or Bree decided that dealing with four guys instead of just the one she wanted was too much?

  “Fuck.”

  His phone buzzed. With a groan, he put the basket of laundry down—how many towels had Wyatt used, anyway?—and answered. “Brad?”

  “Hey, Tex. You okay?”

  Tex sighed. “Yeah. It was tough.”

  “Missing Wyatt and Josh already?”

  “Missing Bubbles.” He added, “And them, I guess.”

  Brad laughed. “She’ll be good with your folks. Your brother and cousin looked great. I can’t believe Josh is old enough to join the Marine Corps.”

  Tex smiled. “I know. I guess I’m getting old.”

  “Yeah, almost thirty, aren’t you?”

  “Over the hill, you mean?”

  “Up yours.”

  Tex grinned.

  “You want to come over to Reggie’s for dinner? I’m bringing the beer. Avery’s making enchiladas, and Mack’s making his mom’s famous potato salad.”

  “What’s Reggie making?”

  “He said he’s hosting, and we should get off his back about cooking and dating—should the subject come up.”

  “Sounds like Reggie.” Tex couldn’t wait to give his pal some crap about both. “Sure. What time?”

  “Five thirty. Avery wants to eat early, and Reggie agrees.”

  “Sex marathon later?”

  “If she’s lucky,” Brad said, sounding way too smug.

  “Ew. Gross, Brad.”

  Brad chuckled. “I’ll count you in for dinner.” He paused. “Unless you were bringing a plus-one?”

  “I would, but Bree is meeting her friend tonight.”

  “No problem. We can meet her next week.”

  “Whatever.” That will be great. The guys will love her. So why are my hands sweating?

  “See you tonight. And bring some of that root beer Wyatt was drinking the other night, would you? And some vanilla ice cream. I have a hankering for root beer floats.”

  “Gotcha. See you in a few.”

  They disconnected, and Tex felt better about life. He had a hot girlfriend with plans to canoodle later in the evening. A great group of friends he happily called brothers. Family caring for each other and his dog, and a job he loved. What more could he want?

  ***

  Bree had no idea why Carrie canceling happy hour bothered her so much. She knew Carrie had been telling the truth about an emergency meeting with a client. Carrie never lied about work, and she certainly wouldn’t use such a sad excuse to get out of a personal confrontation with Bree. Carrie would just up and admit she didn’t want to do dinner.

  But that left Bree with nothing to do until meeting up later with Tex.

  She should give him time to be alone. He’d had a long week with his family and a tough day saying goodbye.

  But she couldn’t get his tearstained face out of her mind. He’d been so open, so vulnerable.

  And so amazingly beautiful in that moment. She regretted not having that image on film, because it would have reached into hearts everywhere and squeezed. Just one shot of Tex’s tearstained face while clutching Bubbles. Of his face hidden against Bree’s shoulder while he let the tears fall.

  She would never have taken his picture and shared it, rather she wanted to look at it and remember his pain. To know he could feel so deeply for something or someone he loved.

  She sniffed, not allowing herself to cry and ruin her mascara. Geez, even she missed Bubbles. The house would feel so empty without her.

  Pausing in thought, she wondered which house she referred to, his or hers? Then realized it didn’t matter. She felt at home with Tex in both places.

  What the hell did that mean?

  At loose ends, she texted Tex. Change of plans. Want to do dinner or are you busy until later?

  He texted immediately back. Have plans. Want to join me?

  Yes!

  Great. Come to this address. Hope you’re hungry.

  Hmm. Maybe she should have asked about his plans before blindly agreeing to join him.

  An hour after she’d arrived, she seconded that idea.

  “So,” Reggie Morgan said, scrutinizing her from head to toe. “What have you been up to, Bree Gilchrist? And why has it taken you this long to run the gauntlet?”

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  ***

  Reggie didn’t often interfere in his friends’ personal lives. Oh, sure, he teased and generally tortured Mack on a daily basis, but that was all in good fun. He and the guys knew they had each other’s backs. He loved them all. Brad with his stern approach to life, now regularly easing into chill mode thanks to his family and Avery.

  Then there was Mack, the happy-go-lucky prankster without a care in the world other than his Chevelle. Everyone loved Mack. Everyone also loved to get one over on Mack. Of all their crew, though it would kill Tex to admit it, Mack was the man the other teams always accepted as a substitute. Simply because, of the four of them, he was the most affable. Tex, despite his easygoing temperament, could be a real hardcase. Probably why he’d made such a good Marine.

  And speaking of McGovern, the aw-shucks master of understatement, the fast-moving Southern boy who laughed and loved with abandon, girls here and gone on a weekly or monthly basis, was smart at his job, could “charm the dew right off the honeysuckle” (he’d once heard Tex’s mom describe), and strong—physically, mentally, and emotionally—the guy was nervous, Reggie could tell.

  Reggie had been through heartbreak. He still hadn’t fully healed. No way in hell he’d let Tex suffer that same fate, not when the guy had been head-over-heels for Bree Gilchrist from the jump.

  In all the years Reggie had known Tex, he’d never seen Tex get so smitten for so long. By Reggie’s calculations, Tex had been bonkers for this woman for nearly a year. A year. That was a new record, considering the longest Tex had ever even dated a woman was for maybe a few months.

  He studied Bree, knowing at once what Tex saw in her. On the surface, she had long legs, boobs, a face that had literally graced magazines, and a quick intelligence. But beyond that, Reggie saw compassion, laughter, wit, and an elegance not often found in the young and beautiful.

  Oh, yeah. This woman had the power to crush his friend’s soul, no question.

  “So,” he said, scrutinizing her from head to toe. “What have you been up to, Bree Gilchrist? And why has it taken you this long to run the gauntlet?”

  She just looked at him. “Gauntlet?”

  He nodded. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “I do?”

  “Pick your poison.” He nodded over his shoulder at the open game cabinet, waiting.

  She tensed before spotting Mack waving at the open cabinet and doing his best Vanna White.

  “And what do we have here, Pat?” Mack asked the crowd. “Why, we have Scrabble! We have Parcheesi. Hmm. I see Monopoly and Clue. And, what’s this? Pictionary. What a night for game play!”

  Bree laughed. “He’s such a goof.”

  “No kidding.” Reggie turned to see Mack wiggling his brows. “Would you get off the cabinet door, you idiot? It’s not meant to be hung on. You’re not a kid, you know.”

  “Words hurt, Reggie. All I’m saying.”

  Tex and the others laughed. The Texan eyeballed his woman, saw she was handling everything just fine, and turned back to his conversation with Avery.

  “Okay. Let me see.” Bree went to the cabinet and pulled out one of Reggie’s favorite games tucked behin
d the others. She raised a brow at him. “The gauntlet, hmm? Well, Mr. Morgan? Time to play.”

  Two hours later, the scary woman had beaten them at Rummikub four times out of five. The game was played with two to four people, so Brad and Avery had paired up to make one team, and Tex and Bree to make another, leaving Reggie and Mack on their own. Each team picked numbered tiles and hid them in a tile rack that only they should be able to see. The teams played in turn, the goal to set down all of one’s tiles first for the maximum number of points, eventually playing off the opponent’s tiles.

  The guys and he never played for points, just to see who could go out first.

  But between many rounds of beer, nachos, some ugly table talk—thank you, Avery and Bree—and some ribald humor even Reggie found hilarious, Reggie was having a blast.

  Like Avery, their newest addition to the group, Bree liked to win. She had smarts, and she could manipulate her opponents by acting one way while playing another.

  He liked that in an adversary. He also liked the way she and Tex argued about little things. They didn’t agree on everything, which he’d never considered healthy. Avery and Brad got along but not so much they didn’t snap at each other occasionally, keeping their relationship tight.

  He watched, as did the others, though they were less obvious about it. Tex didn’t let Bree have her way with everything, but he did cave to many of her decisions, allowing them their wins.

  “Seriously, you guys have to be cheating.” Reggie frowned. “No way you keep getting all the good tiles.”

  Tex chuckled. “Reggie, even if I wanted to, there’s no way I could be cheating. First of all, you scrambled all the tiles so much that even Brad couldn’t get what he wanted. I know, because I looked.”

  “Hey.”

  “And second, Bree has her meaty claws hooked so hard into the rack, I can’t get close enough to play our tiles any more than I could play yours. Oh, and by our, I meant hers.” He nodded at his scowling girlfriend.

  “Back off, cowboy. This is my game. You can have the next one.” She added under her breath, loudly enough for them all to hear, “If you can manage to win without me helping.”