Lone Star Burn_Love On Tap

by Judy Kentrus

  They drove for a half-hour down a two-lane country road. Gray’s vehicle of choice was a late-model black truck with four doors. The interior smelled like his Polo cologne.

  You must be out of your mind, Jennie silently argued, getting into a truck with a guy you met a couple of hours ago and accepting his invitation to sleep at his house in the middle of God knows where. The children she used to teach showed more common sense. She could hear her younger brother screaming at her to use her head. Her hormones spiked off the chart and just the thought of Grayson’s name made her want to swoon. Swoon! Who the hell said that anymore? He hadn’t bothered to turn on the radio, and the silence was deafening.

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere, and from what I can tell, the land is totally flat. How much further is your home?”

  “Another five miles. Our ranch is on the outskirts of Fort Mavis.”

  “Ranch? Like horses and longhorns?”

  “No. When I purchased the place three years ago, it was advertised as a ranch. It’s only fifty acres. There are ranches on either side of me, and Mathew likes to pet the horses when they come to the fence.”

  “How old is he?”

  “He’ll be ten next week.”

  “Guess he’s looking forward to his birthday party.”

  Gray slowed down to let an armadillo cross the road. “I wouldn’t know. He’s never mentioned a party.”

  Jennie glowered at him, even though he hadn’t taken his eyes off the road. “Did you ask him?”

  “No. If he wants a party, he’ll ask.”

  “That doesn’t sound like any ten-year-old boy I’ve ever met.”

  Gray’s cell phone broke the silence, and he picked it up immediately. “Hey, Matt, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “That was your ten-year-old nephew calling you at eleven o’clock at night?”

  Gray shrugged a shoulder. “It’s Saturday and he can stay up as late as he wants. He’s with a sitter, but knows he can call me at any time.”

  “How late does he stay up during the week?”

  “Whenever he runs out of excuses that he isn’t tired and wants to finish a game on his tablet.”

  Jennie bit her tongue. You’ve never been a parent and your womanly countdown clock has just about run of time. You are not here to interfere in the child’s upbringing.

  When they turned down a paved driveway, she was surprised by the warm-looking ranch-style home. Two big windows in the front had lights on in welcome.

  Gray parked beside an old Chevy Nova. He kept a respectable distance when they walked up a wide flagstone walk bordered by a neat post and rail fence and short halogen lights. She wondered at the change in him shortly after he spoke to his nephew. The sexy, flirty man was gone, and he’d become more distant.

  Grayson opened the door to a great room with a cathedral ceiling. Two earth-tone couches formed an L-shape in the front of a white brick fireplace, matching the stark white, unadorned walls. Dark walnut accent tables complemented the red-clay-tiled floor.

  A teenager, looking to be about eighteen, got up from the couch. She was dressed in the typical jean and tank combination. She set her tablet aside and removed the buds from her ears.

  “Hey, Mr. Wolff. Matt just went in to take a shower.”

  “Marsha, this is Jennie, a friend of mine. She’ll be visiting for a couple of days.”

  A couple of days. Jennie silently choked. What happened to just overnight? She offered the pretty teenager a friendly smile and watched Gray give the girl three twenty-dollar bills before excusing himself to walk the babysitter to her car.

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and tried to determine the layout of the house. This room appeared to be the focal point. Off to the sides were hallways with more doors that probably led to the bedrooms. It was terribly plain. The room felt cold, and it wasn’t from the air conditioning. The outside appeared more welcoming than the interior.

  She took a step closer to the long counter that separated the kitchen and modern eating area, and paled. The kitchen sink was piled high with dishes. Paper plates and used napkins and red plastic cups were still on the table. In the center were an open box of Cap’n Crunch cereal and a pizza box. Her temporary roommates were pigs.

  The minute Gray walked back into the house and closed the door, he upped his keep-your-distance radar to maximum. This had been a huge mistake. You know nothing about her. Why was she really headed for Fort Mavis? Her presence could ruin everything. His father would love to know his prodigal son was entertaining an unmarried woman in his home, corrupting the mind of an innocent ten-year-old boy. Don’t touch her, don’t touch her. Show her a room, bid her good night. Nothing more.

  “She seems very nice,” Jennie said, keeping up a friendly banter.

  “Marsha’s mother is Brenda, the waitress who served our dinner.” He gripped the handle of her suitcase. “The bedroom is right this way.”

  The cold vibes coming off Grayson when he walked by her could freeze an igloo. Had she done something wrong? What happened to Mr. Warm and Fuzzy? Her wolf had a definite burr up his ass. And they say women are fickle.

  The room was straitlaced and neat, and had a regular-size bed, one nightstand and lamp, a triple dresser with a mirror, and, surprisingly, a white wicker rocker that matched the rest of the furniture. The bed was covered by a wedding-ring-patterned quilt and had matching pillows. Plain white drapes on the two windows were drawn back, and she wondered if his neighbors would be able to see in, since there weren’t any shades. It would be pleasant to sit in the rocker to look out the window.

  “The bathroom is right in here,” he said, and turned on the light. “Towels and any toiletries you might need are in the hall linen closet.”

  Jennie leaned a hip against the dresser and crossed her arms. “I’ve met bellhops who were friendlier. I hope you’re not expecting a tip, because I don’t have any small change.”

  He’d tried to avoid looking at her, but she folded her arms under her breasts, which were straining to escape the thin material. He wanted to lower those arms, rip off that damn top, and indulge his taste buds on her beautiful breasts—no, her girls.

  Jennie wasn’t oblivious to where his eyes were currently focused, and was very pleased the fire still burned. She stepped away from the dresser and lowered her arms. “Apparently I’ve done something to make you regret offering me a place to stay.”

  “I’m sorry, Jennie. I’m being an ass. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  He approached her and ran the tip of his finger down her soft cheek, this time avoiding her sweet mouth. “You’re very nice, and I’m sorry if I came on too strong. There’s a great deal going on in my life that, if I had more time, I’d explain.” He gave her a small smile. “Why don’t you get some sleep, and we’ll find out about your replacement truck in the morning? Feel free to help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. We wing it on the weekends.”

  She didn’t remind him that truck rental places were generally closed on Sundays. “Any chance you can let me borrow a t-shirt? I need to sort the clothes in my suitcase, and I’ll have to use your washing machine.”

  “Not a problem. Be right back.”

  Gray returned with a clean white t-shirt and a pair of baby-blue shorts. “Didn’t know what you like to sleep in, so I brought both.”

  Jennie looked him straight in the face and confessed, “My preference is to sleep naked, but not with an impressionable child in the house.”

  He went instantly hard again. He knew exactly what she was doing, and decided to turn the tables on playful Jennie. He leaned in close, as if he was going to kiss her, breathed enough hot air to caress the surface of her mouth, and huskily whispered, “For your information, I prefer sleeping in the raw, too. ’Night, Jennie.” He forced himself to walk out the door.

  So, her gray wolf was still interested and liked to play. She picked up the white t-shirt, held it up in front of her, and looked in the mirror. “If this is the closes
t I’m going to get to Mr. Grayson Wolff, so be it.”

  She would be making a great deal of money for her nonprofit foundation once she got a true picture and reported what was going on in this lovely home in Fort Mavis, Texas.

  Chapter 3

  Jennie woke to the sun shining in her bedroom window and blinked at the intensity of the sun’s rays. The bed had been so comfortable she never woke during the night wondering where she was. Traveling and sleeping in a different bed every night had her body clock running backward, but this bed felt too much like home.

  She couldn’t think about the home she’d left and the parents she would miss. It had been the right thing to do, considering the public embarrassment that had rocked her world. Her brother Preston, a forensic accountant who worked for a well-known security company, was able to prove she wasn’t involved in the financial scandal that had toppled the charitable foundation she’d helped establish. Now she was moving on to a new job, new place to live, a new beginning. First she had to do this small favor for a friend.

  She rolled over and reached for her cell phone on the nightstand. Her eyes widened at the time. Eight o’clock. Her normal waking time was six, and by six-thirty she was well into the five miles she ran every other morning. The other days she did yoga. Her legs felt stiff from missing her morning routine. With all this flat land, there shouldn’t be a problem going for a run.

  She headed for the bathroom then remembered Gray said the towels and toiletries were in the linen closet. She opened her door and listened, but the house was uncomfortably quiet. The closet was just down the hall, and she collected everything she needed for a shower.

  She set everything on the counter in the bathroom then remembered she didn’t have any clean clothes. Hopefully Gray would have a pair of sweats for her to borrow until she did her laundry.

  The stone tiles were cold against the bottoms of her feet as she walked quietly toward three closed doors that she figured were bedrooms. Jen laughed to herself, recalling the way Goldilocks inspected the three bears’ cabin.

  She knocked softly on the first bedroom door and waited before slowly turning the knob to discover a small, neat bedroom. She moved on to door number two, knocked, and waited before turning the knob. It was definitely the bedroom of a ten-year-old boy. An explosion of toys littered the floor. A Minecraft village was under construction beside a computer monitor and keyboard on the child-size desk in the corner. Star Wars-themed sheets covered the unmade bed. At the bottom of the bed were two remote control cars and a helicopter. Most of the walls were covered with sports figures. Jennie wondered how he was able to sleep in the mess.

  She moved on to door number three, turned the knob, and gradually pushed it open. Her fingers tightened on the knob and she couldn’t move. Like Goldilocks, she’d hit the mother lode at her third selection.

  The big bad wolf was sound asleep in a queen-size bed covered in pristine white sheets. His long legs were slightly spread and he was bare-ass naked. His skin was a golden tan all over, and there wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t unyielding. His ass was beautifully curved, and two dimples formed in his cheeks. Heat rushed up the back of her neck and her mouth began to water. She wanted to dip her tongue in those cute little craters. The taste of him would explode in her mouth. Jen, you are a wicked pervert. Leave right now. Jen ignored the good angel on her shoulder.

  She inspected the perfection of his taut back muscles that rose and fell at a steady pace. It was his hair that was her undoing. He’d discarded the leather band, and his distinctive long black mane spread across his shoulder blades and covered part of his white pillowcase. She flexed her fingers that ached to run through all that silk, lingering at his hairline to massage his neck. Her gray wolf was a beautiful man.

  She slowly closed the door and tears filled her eyes for what could never be. Clothes could wait, she decided, and made her way back to the bedroom to take a shower.

  Gray rolled over and groaned with momentary relief when the cold air hit his throbbing groin. This woman was giving him a permanent hard-on. He’d been in an easy slumber and her scent filled his wakening breath. He felt her eyes on him and forced himself not to move. In his mind he pictured her naked, straddling his legs, and her fingertips replaced her eyes as they slowly burned a trail up his body. She wouldn’t stop, and her fingers played with his hair. That would be a first. He never allowed a woman to mess with his hair. It was much too personal.

  “This cannot and should not be happening,” he said to his empty room as he got up and walked into the bathroom to take a very cold shower.

  A half-hour later, Jennie walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel and feeling refreshed. When she passed the bed, she noticed two articles of clothing: a pair of black athletic shorts and another t-shirt. The navy-blue shirt had the logo of Wolff’s Roadhouse. Did he know she’d seen him naked in bed? She didn’t have any clean underwear and would have to go commando under her clothes.

  Her cheeks got warm when she passed Gray’s open bedroom door. The bed was unmade, but the room was otherwise uncluttered.

  She walked into the kitchen area, expecting to see her host and his nephew, but neither was in sight. She paused at the mess on the table, and the sight made her lose her appetite. Two empty cereal bowls were still on the table, along with boxes Lucky Charms and Frosted Mini-Wheats. They’d spilled cereal on the table and left banana peels. Someone had eaten peanut butter and jelly, and hadn’t closed the jars or seal the loaf of bread. It was a wonder the Mt. Vesuvius of dishes in the sink didn’t topple over.

  Luckily, there was a Keurig coffee maker with the pods in a holder next to the machine on the counter. It was there she found a note. We went fishing, be back this afternoon. Help yourself to whatever you feel like eating. Gray.

  The refrigerator held a half-gallon of milk and two six-packs of soda. A container of fresh orange juice and a box of tube yogurt remained unopened. Five pre-made commercial lunchboxes were stacked on the upper shelf. It also held an assortment of takeout containers and a flat box that held one slice of dried-out pizza. No eggs, cheese, or vegetables were in sight. Apparently good food was being ignored while the junk took center stage. She looked around the kitchen once more and wondered what his housekeeper did if the house was such a mess.

  She opened a door to the side of the refrigerator and revealed a small pantry. Junk food heaven continued. Five different kinds of chips, open bags of store-bought cookies, and jars of salsa, a brand she’d never heard of, shared the shelf with bags of tortilla chips. She liked to eat, but balanced her diet and ate on the healthy side. She’d seen enough.

  After a cup of coffee and a tube of yogurt, she went back to her bedroom to inspect the suitcase that held the clothes that weren’t destroyed. She was pleasantly surprised that Larry, Gray’s bouncer, had found her tablet. The jeans, sweaters, shorts, and, of course, her underwear would be good enough until she placed an order online for more clothes.

  The other two bedrooms and the laundry room were located on the other side of the house, and she threw in her first load of clothes. She walked back into the kitchen and grimaced. No way was she going to look at the mess all day.

  She tackled the table and then the sink. Her annoyance grew when she opened the door to the dishwasher and found it totally empty. “Can’t even put dishes in the dishwasher! It’s a lot easier making a pile in the sink!”

  She found an assortment of cleaning products and put them to good use. Two hours later, the kitchen was sparkling clean. She threw out the takeout containers and the damn pizza box. She’d also managed to fold two loads of laundry. She changed into her own jeans and a lightweight pink sweater, but was reluctant to return Gray’s shorts and t-shirt. She might need them the next day, she decided as a poor excuse.

  Jen was eager to go for a run, but all she had was a pair of strappy beach sandals, so she sat barefoot and cross-legged on a floor in front of the wide window in the great room and went through her yoga routine. She relaxed h
er body, closed her eyes, and took long inhales and exhales; she rolled her shoulders from side to side, backward and forward, lifted her palms in front of her chest, and then over her head. Her mind settled into a happy place and she continued the routine for a half-hour.

  When she was done, she spoke to her parents and assured them everything was good. It was only two in the afternoon. The house was too quiet. She was bored, and decided to take a walk around the property.

  It was obvious Gray didn’t believe in elaborate landscaping. Like the interior, it was plain. The grass in the front and rear yards were neatly trimmed, but there were no decorative bushes. Having grown up in Oregon, she’d gotten accustomed to being surrounded by trees and mountains, but the terrain was flat as far as the eye could see. Fertile grass and clusters of wildflowers breathed life into the landscape.

  In the rear of the yard were a good-size storage shed and a barn. The red wood siding could use a fresh coat of paint. A post and rail fence bordered the acreage and appeared to be well maintained.

  She followed the dirt path to the shed, tried the door, and found it open. The interior was dark, but for the light coming in two windows. A musty smell lingered in the air. It was empty but for a few garden tools and a couple bales of hay that had crumbled from non-use and age. She looked at the wood walls and noted a number of weathered and dried leather harnesses. Hanging from hooks were a pair of chaps, an old, stained cowboy hat, and a pair of handmade leather boots that appeared to have been put to good use. At one time, the owner had raised horses.

  The side door to the barn was open, and she found a light switch on the left side of the door. She flipped it on and was surprised to see two vehicles. A thin layer of dust coated a steel-blue Maserati sedan. She knew the car was ridiculously expensive because her brother had offered to buy her one, but she’d told him no. She approached the other vehicle and lifted the canvas sheet to discover a classic red Mustang convertible. He owned expensive cars, so why did he drive a three-year-old truck?