Crazy for Lovin’ You

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Crazy for Lovin’ You Page 6

by Teresa Southwick


  All of the reasons he’d given her were valid. He did have a lot to do in a very short period of time. It would be a challenge under the best of circumstances, but throwing Taylor into the mix added another element. They said bull riders liked to live on the edge. That they did it for women and money. He didn’t need either.

  So why had he nodded his head in her direction?

  Something about seeing her with Dev Hart, he realized. It brought out his protective instincts. She was alone on the ranch. Her family was scattered. He’d always felt like a big brother to her.

  He ignored the voice inside, trying to warn him that she was all grown up now.

  “Of course I’ll pay you for room and board,” he said.

  She shook her head. “A positive endorsement from former rodeo champion Mitch Rafferty will be worth a lot more than that. I wouldn’t think of charging you.”

  He saw the stubborn set of her chin and said, “I suppose it wouldn’t do any good to insist?”

  “You always were quick, Mitch.”

  “In that case, it will be my pleasure, ma’am, to lend my name to your advertising campaign. If everything checks out.”

  “Fair enough.” She stuck out her hand. “Welcome to the Circle S, roomie.”

  The following day, Taylor watched Mitch bring a couple of leather duffel bags into her living room and set them down inside the front door. He flashed her a cocky grin and her chest tightened, her stomach dropped and her knees went weak. In her humble opinion, he made the Marlboro man look like a pansy. If he didn’t already define the word masculine, one glance would be worth more than a thousand words. Worn jeans molded to long muscular legs and the sleeves of his cotton shirt were rolled up to reveal wide strong wrists. The sparkle in his eyes softened the lean cheeks and angular jaw but in no way diminished the effect on her female sensitivities.

  What on earth had she been thinking to agree so easily to his plan? She hadn’t even put up a fight—not even token resistance. And why had she felt it necessary to be here to greet him? Especially after a long, restless night of ticking off in her mind all the things that could go wrong. Starting with her apparently enduring attraction to Mitch.

  But the answer came to her instantly. She was in the hospitality business now. Hospitable dude ranchers met their guests with a smile, a howdy, a make yourself at home, and how can I make your stay more pleasant. If she was going to earn his positive opinion, she would be the best there ever was at all of the above.

  “I’ll go out to your truck and get the rest of your things,” she offered.

  He aimed the megawatt gleam in his bad-boy baby blues directly at her. “First of all, a Texas gentleman never lets a lady carry his gear.”

  “But I—”

  “And second, this is everything.”

  She rested one fist on her hip as she regarded him. “First of all, part of my service will be carrying my guests’ luggage,” she said, mimicking his tone. “And second, I can’t believe anyone travels that light.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the cowboy way,” he said simply.

  But when a dark look clouded his gaze, Taylor wondered what he was remembering that had stolen the sexy gleam from his eyes. She missed it. But all she said was, “Okay. I’ll show you to your room. Follow me.”

  He picked up the bags again, and behind her she heard the scrape of his boots on the wooden floor and his heavy step as he followed her upstairs.

  “I have four bedrooms in the main house, and four cabins adjacent to the bunkhouse that are being painted,” she said. At the top of the stairs she stopped. “This open area is sort of the second-floor family room so guests can relax. There’s a TV and VCR with an assortment of videos to choose from. The furniture is new and I hope comfortable. You’ll have to try it out and let me know.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “This is the master bedroom,” she said, pointing to an open doorway on her left. “It’s the biggest, so I plan to charge the most for it. I’ve added antiques and wing chairs in the sitting area. Maggie Benson made a quilt, throw pillows and the window seat cover in material that matches the curtains.”

  “Maggie’s still around?”

  Taylor glanced at him sharply. Did he have a past with every girl in town? she wondered. Then she gave herself a mental shake. Even if he did, it was no skin off her nose. “Yeah. Maggie’s got a great shop in downtown Destiny. She’s doing well enough to support herself and her little girl.”

  “She’s got a kid?”

  “Nine years old now,” she answered.

  “I always liked Maggie,” he commented.

  Something pulled tight in her chest and she hoped it wasn’t jealousy. “You?” She tipped her head to the side as she studied him. “I didn’t think you liked anyone,” she said, struggling for a light, teasing tone.

  “Don’t spread it around. I’ve got a reputation to protect.”

  “Right,” she said wryly. “Discretion is my middle name.”

  He brushed past her and poked his head into the master bedroom. “This is nice.”

  “Thanks. Let me show you the rest.” She continued down the hall and pointed to her left. “The whole back of the house has a balcony. As you can see, every room upstairs has a French door opening out onto it.”

  He nodded. “Impressive. I always wondered what the second floor looked like.”

  “You never saw it?”

  “Are you kidding? Your father practically stood at the bottom of the stairway with a shotgun.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “Okay.”

  But she could tell he didn’t believe her. She sighed. It made her sad that her father would never get to see how wrong he’d been about Mitch.

  She opened the door to the room on her left. “This is my smallest room. But I think it’s charming and comfortable. That bed is a double so there’s room for a chair and ottoman in the corner.”

  The bed would accommodate him, but big as he was, there wouldn’t be a lot of space left over for someone else. Her cheeks burned at that unexpected thought. She had no business thinking that way. But it was hard not to while Mitch Rafferty was under her roof. That didn’t bode well for her peace of mind during the next month.

  She cleared her throat. “The floral wallpaper might be a bit feminine for you, but Maggie and I like it, so that’s that.”

  She left the door open and walked to the end of the hall. “These are the last two. They share a bathroom between them. I think it might work out well for families. Kids in one, parents in the other. They can have their privacy and be near the children at the same time.” Her cheeks heated at the intimate picture she’d just painted. But she forced herself to look at him.

  One corner of his mouth tilted up confirming her suspicion that he’d noticed her blush.

  “Where do you want me?” he asked.

  In Kalamazoo, Michigan, she thought. But decided it would be too ungracious to say so. Besides, he couldn’t help it that her hormones responded to his testosterone—in a major way.

  “Why don’t you take your pick?” she suggested.

  He nodded. “This feels like a scene from Goldilocks and the three bears. But I think someone’s already sleeping in that bed,” he said, pointing to it.

  “It’s mine,” she confessed. “But I won’t be there long. There’s a bedroom and bath off the kitchen.”

  “Maid’s quarters?”

  “Originally,” she said nodding. “My folks set it up as a guest room. I plan to use it. It’s comfortable and will give me some privacy from the guests while I have access to the kitchen. I didn’t have a chance to move my things yesterday.” She shrugged. “I didn’t expect to have a customer so soon.”

  He walked through the connecting bath to the identical room on the other side. He put his open hand on the floral comforter and pressed down to test the queen-size mattress. Looking around, a thoughtful expression slid across his face.

  He met her gaze. “This one is f
ine.”

  It had been Jensen’s room before she’d left home. It was where she stayed when she visited. Taylor wondered at the knot in her chest at his choice.

  “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the master bedroom?” She leaned against the doorway and folded her arms across her chest, to take her mind off the ache there. “After all, if you’re going to sing my praises, you should experience the best room in the house.”

  He looked out the window, then turned and shrugged. “This is fine. I can see the arenas from here. And the pool,” he said raising one eyebrow. “Pools have fond memories for me,” he added, a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “Seems like it will be easier on you.”

  “How do you figure?” she asked, wondering how she would be able to sleep with him so close.

  “If we’re not spread out all over the house, I’d just guess it would be more efficient. Not to mention sharing a bath. Gotta be easier than maintaining two while I’m here.”

  He had a point. She planned to hire some help, but until then she was responsible for upkeep. But cleaning more rooms might be worth it to put some distance between them. Surely he would be more comfortable in the master bedroom on the opposite side of the house. A room so close to hers couldn’t be the appeal, although a tiny glow flickered to life somewhere in the region of her heart.

  With his back to her, he stood looking out the window. “You and your sister must have had quite a time growing up in this house.”

  Instantly the glow sputtered out. And it was so simple she was surprised that she hadn’t seen it immediately. He’d picked this particular room because it used to be Jensen’s.

  Before she could stop it, a pain zigzagged through her. Even though she knew better, she hadn’t been able to prevent it. A testament to the power Mitch Rafferty still held over her. And only one small tile and porcelain room between them. Just what she needed. Another challenge to getting through the next four weeks.

  First priority would be to move to a separate floor and into the maid’s quarters.

  He turned from the window and met her gaze with a quizzical one of his own. “Earth to Taylor.”

  “Sorry,” she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose with one finger. “I guess my mind was somewhere else. Did you say something?”

  He crossed the room and stood in front of her. “I just wondered if you found it lonely here, now that the rest of your family is gone.”

  “No. Anywhere else I probably would be, but not here on Stevens land. My roots are here and they go deep,” she said. Then she noticed the flicker in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I know that’s a sore spot. I didn’t mean to touch on something uncomfortable for you.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t bother me. Not anymore.”

  “So you’ve come to terms with your past?”

  “Part of it,” he said.

  The part that didn’t include Jen, she guessed. But she’d already stuck her foot in her mouth once. Wild horses couldn’t drag a question about her sister from her lips.

  “So where do you call home now?”

  He shrugged. “Nowhere. At least I don’t own property anywhere,” he clarified.

  “Surely you don’t live in a cave?” she teased. “That’d be tough. Cave property in Texas is scarce.”

  He grinned. “Under a rock is more like it,” he answered, joking back.

  Times like this were the hardest, Taylor thought. This was when she missed him most, when he baited, bantered and bothered her.

  This was when she was in the most danger of making a damn fool of herself all over again. Time to head for the hills.

  “Well, that’s the whole tour. I’ve got work to do, so I’ll leave you to settle in,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too abrupt. But she had to get out of there. She started backing out of the room.

  He followed. “To answer your question, I lease a condo in L.A. My business is based there.”

  “I see,” she said, as they walked side by side down the hall. He would no doubt be going back when his obligations in Destiny were fulfilled. “Do you like California?”

  “Yeah,” he said nodding. “But I’m looking for other opportunities around the country. There are areas of Texas growing faster than anywhere else in the country. Industrial and business centers and shopping malls are going up fast.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s right. Actually, Destiny is growing. I’m looking at some projects around here.”

  “So is that why you took on volunteer work for the rodeo? Business contacts? Put your name out there?” Selfish reasons, she wondered to herself. She probably shouldn’t have asked. But when had she ever kept her mouth shut when she should have?

  “The exposure doesn’t hurt,” he admitted. “Dev mentioned it when he put the bite on me. But, it’s not the only reason. I don’t need to work ever again, Taylor. I made enough money riding bulls that with sound investments I could live comfortably for the rest of my life.”

  “Assuming you didn’t squander it on wild living.” She flashed him a smile, then held the railing as she started downstairs.

  “Yeah, assuming that,” he said with a chuckle. “Or if too many people hit me up.”

  “Who would do that?”

  “My mother for one.”

  “You heard from her?” Taylor asked, shocked. She stopped, midstairway, and looked at him.

  He stopped on the step below her so she met his gaze squarely. “Yeah. You know that whole under a rock thing is genetic. Ruby came out from under hers and managed to track me down when she found out about all the money I was making.”

  “Is she still married to the construction guy?”

  “Still would be the key word. I have no proof that they ever got hitched in the first place. But she’s single now, living in Vegas. Working in a casino.”

  “So she wanted money,” Taylor mused. “Did you give it to her?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how invasive they were. “Scratch that. Sorry to be so nosy. You don’t need to answer.”

  He shook his head and they continued down the stairs. “No big deal. Yeah, I gave it to her. I’ve learned that everyone wants something. At least she’s kin.”

  It was a small glimpse into the most eligible cowboy’s life. She remembered the magazine stories. Her head told her that was a long time ago. Her heart believed he traveled in fast-paced, exciting, glitzy circles. Places she couldn’t go. But now he was telling her there was a downside to money and fame. She could see it in his eyes and the look there tugged at her sympathy.

  “Everyone wants something,” she said quietly. “Including me.”

  He stepped off the bottom stair and turned, blocking her. Her front was touching his front and they saw eye to eye. It would be easy to rest her forearms on his shoulders, the familiar way couples did. She could touch her mouth to his, with little or no effort, and let him deepen the contact. She wanted him to fold her in his arms and hold her.

  Suddenly this house she knew better than the back of her hand was the loneliest place on earth.

  He shrugged. “You never get something for nothing,” he said. “That’s something else I learned.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. When I get your seal of approval, I’ll have earned it fair and square. Or I don’t want it at all.”

  Otherwise it would mean Mitch Rafferty was just being nice to her. Or worse—feeling sorry for her. And that meant she would have to watch her back as far as her heart was concerned.

  A sweet and considerate Mitch Rafferty was more dangerous than a no-limit card game with the devil.

  Chapter Five

  The morning after a restless night, his first in Taylor’s house, Mitch stepped out of the shower. He knew she’d been there not long before. Her scent lingered, giving him an instant visual of her naked—soft skin, lush curves, sleek and wet and—whoa. Annoyed at the train of thought he couldn’t tame, he grabbed his
shaving kit and unzipped it. After pulling out razor, toothbrush, toothpaste and comb, he looked for a spot to put them on the vanity. A good portion of the space held Taylor’s toiletries.

  Body lotion, body splash, body mist. Body. The word jumped out at him from every single, solitary product in the whole damn bathroom.

  His annoyance kicked up a notch. What had he been thinking to pick the only room in the place where he had to share such intimate space with Taylor? Only her bedroom would be worse.

  Or better.

  Jeez. He couldn’t seem to stop. He hadn’t had a sensible thought since the day he’d come to the ranch to check it out. The day he’d seen Taylor Stevens again—all grown up.

  He grabbed a towel and dried his hair, then wrapped the thick, luxurious terry cloth around his waist. After brushing his teeth and hair, he dressed quickly in his room. There was a lot to do in a short amount of time to get the show on the road. He needed to get his mind off Taylor and things he had no right thinking about. But he needed caffeine first to do both.

  When he opened his door, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee drifted to him, as if the B&B fairy had read his mind. That smell along with the aroma of freshly baked biscuits, sweet rolls and bacon made a hole in his gut as wide as the Texas prairie. Even stronger than his hunger was an urgency to see Taylor. And for the life of him he didn’t understand why, let alone have the will to control it.

  He peeked through the open door into her room, and wasn’t surprised to see that her bed was neatly made. Following where his nose led, he found his way along the upstairs hall and down to the kitchen.

  Taylor stood at the stove, her back to him as he walked in the room. Her sun-streaked brown hair was arranged in a French braid with the ends tucked up, leaving her neck bare and him with a yearning to kiss that sweet-looking spot. The hem of her pink cotton blouse disappeared into the waistband of jeans with the seat so worn, it was practically white, almost transparent. He flexed his fingers, aching to see if she was as soft, supple and shapely as she looked.

 

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