The Long, Hot Texas Summer

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  * * *

  “YOU SEEM TO be doing okay.”

  Justin looked up to see Amanda’s grandfather framed in the office doorway. He stood to welcome A.B. “And Amanda’s not.” Even though, for the past three days, he and Amanda had done nothing but work toward their respective goals. To the point where she had begged off spending time with him in the evenings and headed straight for her shower and bed.

  Justin had let her go because he could see she was physically and emotionally exhausted, and he didn’t want to deprive her of whatever personal space she needed. But there was no doubt he had missed their evenings together. Missed spending intimate time with her. Missed having the opportunity to make love to her again and solidify them as a couple.

  A.B. took a seat in front of Justin’s desk, his concern evident. “She has always worried she’ll be rejected if everything is less than perfect.”

  That, Justin thought, was obvious. He went to the minifridge in the corner, got out two bottles of water, and handed one to his guest. “She didn’t get that from you.”

  A.B. gave a long-suffering sigh. “Her parents required perfection of everything—and everyone—in their lives.”

  That couldn’t have been a fun way to live. Justin took a long thirsty drink. “Does Amanda ever see them?”

  “My wife and I arranged it, several times, after Amanda came to live with us, but her folks always came up with excuses and never showed up. Eventually, we just stopped trying to effect any kind of reconciliation. It seemed less hurtful.”

  Justin capped his bottle. “Where are they now?”

  “Last I heard, her dad had married his fourth wife and was managing a big hotel on Maui,” A.B. admitted. “Her mom—my daughter—is in California, weathering a sixth divorce.”

  “And you don’t see them, either,” Justin guessed.

  “No.”

  Justin thought about how different that was from his own family, who, even when they disagreed with each other, still managed to work out their problems. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  A.B. shook his head. “It is what it is. Wishing otherwise won’t change that.”

  Justin rocked back in his chair, glad the older man had stopped by his office to chat before going to the bunkhouse to help Amanda and Lamar. “What will make Amanda feel better?”

  “Zooming through the to-do lists. Achieving your goals. The big work party you’ve put together for tomorrow should go a long way toward accomplishing that.”

  Justin hoped so. Thanks to all the calls he’d made, they had plenty of people coming to assist. He had hoped Amanda would feel more confident as a result. She wasn’t. Maybe because she hadn’t ever seen what the people of Laramie County could do when they came together in a common cause.

  Her grandfather obviously didn’t share the same concerns. “You don’t seem all that worried about her,” Justin remarked.

  “Normally, I would be.” A.B. drained his bottle and screwed the cap back on. “Normally, this is the kind of situation that has her running as fast and far away as she can get. Instead—” the older gentleman smiled and inclined his head in the direction of the bunkhouse “—she’s working harder and seems more committed to the cause than ever.”

  Justin knew that to be true. He smiled back. “We both are.”

  “Then take comfort in the fact that she’s settling in instead of trying to move on.” A.B. rose. “It’s only when she has one foot out the door that you should start to worry.”

  * * *

  BUT AMANDA DID have one foot out the door, Justin thought the following morning, as the board members and various friends and family—including his parents—arrived to help. It was evident in the fact she hadn’t yet moved to her assigned quarters in the lodge, but insisted on staying in her trailer in the campground several miles away.

  It was also evident in the way she managed to keep her physical and emotional distance from him while helping to organize and oversee the work.

  By the time night fell, all the cabinetry had been finished, and three thousand square feet of unfinished wood flooring had been put in. The walls and trim were all painted. The entire crowd had been thanked and fed.

  “We’ve made arrangements with a company in Dallas to provide the bunkhouse furniture,” his mom had told him upon arrival.

  His dad looked Justin in the eye. “I know there have been times in the past few months when your mother and I have both had our doubts, son, but that’s over. Amanda helped us see how committed you are to the cause.” Wade’s voice caught. He gave Justin a hug, then pushed on, eyes glistening, “We’re very proud of you, son.”

  It wasn’t often his dad became emotional. Justin choked up, too. “Thank you both,” he told his parents thickly as his mom hugged him, too. “This means a lot.”

  Meanwhile, nearby, Amanda’s grandfather was deep in conversation with Miss Mim. Justin overheard her say, “Laramie Gardens is a wonderful senior-living village.” Eventually, she convinced A.B. to give it a try.

  “You’re going to stay there tonight?” Amanda asked her granddad in disbelief.

  “Laramie Gardens has rooms for prospective residents for a nominal fee. If I stay there, I’ll be able to eat breakfast in the dining room and take the full tour tomorrow.” A.B. seemed truly enthusiastic.

  Amanda studied him in shock. “You would really consider leaving San Angelo and moving here?”

  She didn’t seem as happy to hear that as Justin would have expected, although she could just be attached to that home.

  A.B. wrapped an affectionate arm around his granddaughter. “I want to be close to you, honey. And your future is here.”

  As the picnic dinner for all the helpers commenced, Libby remarked to Amanda, “Speaking of futures. When are you going to move into the lodge full-time?”

  “Actually, I’ve been too busy trying to finish up the bunkhouse to think about it.” Amanda stood up to get more iced tea. She brought the pitcher back to the folding banquet tables they had lined up across the yard. Then she made her way down the table, topping off glasses as she went.

  Always thinking ahead, Mitzy added, “I think it should probably be done before the KTLZ crew arrives to film the segment on the ranch, don’t you?”

  Amanda smiled as if it were no big deal, when Justin knew that, to her, it was a very big deal. “I probably should.”

  “Do you want any help with that?” Justin’s dad asked, misreading the reason behind Amanda’s delay.

  Justin jumped in, “We’ve got it covered, Dad.”

  At least, he hoped they did.

  “So when did you want to move into the lodge?” Justin asked Amanda after all their guests had left. It was nearly midnight, and the two of them and the dogs were sitting, exhausted, on the front porch of the lodge enjoying the warm, starlit night.

  Amanda brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I still have another four days.”

  Which meant she’d be waiting until the very last second before filming began, he realized. “We could do it tomorrow instead,” Justin suggested mildly.

  Amanda shook her head, stubborn as ever. “I want to stain the floors in the bunkhouse tomorrow, and when that dries put the first of three coats of sealant on.”

  Justin figured it would be unwise to push. She’d probably had enough of that at the dinner, anyway. He exhaled. “Okay.”

  She gave him a sidelong look. “You think I’m procrastinating.”

  Since she had opened the door to the next question, he returned her sidelong glance. “Are you?”

  Amanda chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe.”

  His gaze traveled over her silky calves and bare arms. Reminded how beautiful her body was all over, he asked, “Any particular reason why?”

  “One.” She s
ighed wistfully. “You.”

  Was this going where he hoped it was? He sure as heck hoped his patience was about to be rewarded. His body hard and ready for action, he echoed softly, “Me.” He needed and wanted her to spell out whatever she was thinking and feeling.

  The corners of her lips turned up in a soft smile. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s difficult for the two of us to be alone together without making love. So, that being the case, maybe it would be best if we waited until the last minute for me to actually move in here. That way, when I do, we’ll have a lot of built-in chaperones who can help us stay on the straight and narrow.”

  Knowing she needed a life of her own as much as he did, he pointed out casually, “Even after you move in, we’ll still get time off to do whatever we please.” Although they had to be mindful of their responsibilities, and the accompanying restrictions, working at the boys ranch didn’t mean they forfeited a private life entirely.

  She sighed wistfully, abruptly seeming miles away from him. “I know.”

  He waited until she met his eyes again, then said, “We’ll still want each other.”

  She hesitated. “At least for a while.”

  Ah. So this was the real problem. One he could easily solve. “Not ‘for a while,’ Amanda,” he corrected, taking her by the hand and drawing her to her feet. He slid his arms around her waist and brought her snug against him so she could feel how much he wanted—and needed—her to be his. He lifted a strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Forever. I’m not the kind of guy who changes my mind about that, Amanda. Once I commit to someone, I’m in it for the long haul.”

  The pulse in her neck was throbbing as she lifted her face to his. She gazed up at him, conceding softly, “And you’re into me for the long haul.”

  He smiled and kissed her again, feeling victorious. “I’m talking absolute exclusivity.”

  Amanda wound her arms about his neck and kissed him back. “So,” she said tenderly, “am I.”

  * * *

  AMANDA HADN’T PLANNED to invite Justin back to her trailer that evening, but once he kissed her there was no going back. No pretending she wasn’t falling head over heels in love with him. No pretending she wanted him anywhere other than with her, in her bed. That night, and every other.

  They undressed the moment they entered her trailer and fell onto her bed, senses in an uproar. And from there it only got hotter as he drew her flush against him, letting her feel his hardness, kissing her without restraint.

  Draping a leg over her legs, he continued caressing her breasts, ribs and thighs with his fingertips, before sliding lower to explore the most intimate part of her. And still he couldn’t get enough of her, or she him. Desire exploded in liquid heat.

  She arched blissfully, never more aware of the power one woman and one man could feel. Never wanting anything to endure more.

  He moaned at the trail of kisses. “Amanda...”

  “Let me love you.”

  He surrendered until he could bear it no more. Then rolled her over, captured her wrists and pinned them on either side of her head. Kisses followed. Slowly at first, then hotter, harder, deeper.

  Amanda whimpered, opening her mouth to the pressure of his, stroking her tongue with his. She rocked against him, kissing him back, urging him on, until there was no doubt about what she wanted, what they both wanted. Tingly heat spread. Her feelings intensified as he slid his hands beneath her hips and lifted her to him. He entered with excruciating slowness, taking command in a proprietary way that electrified her.

  Amanda cried out softly, pushing her fingers through his hair, smoothing her palms over his powerful shoulders and down his back, wanting him never, ever to stop.

  And he didn’t. Not until they both reveled in the erotic feelings, the sweet hot need, the sheer pleasure of being together. Pausing and withdrawing, going deeper every time until there was no controlling that, either. She was his...he was hers. For now, and forever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Justin and Lamar were in the kitchen one morning later that week, wondering where Amanda was.

  “It’s nine-thirty,” Lamar said. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

  Justin knew better than anyone just how early Amanda got up. This morning, they’d awakened at five o’clock and made the kind of love that just seemed to get better every time they were together. He’d left her heading for her tiny shower, come back to the ranch, taken care of the dogs and gotten a head start on his day.

  Now, three hours later, still no Amanda.

  “Should we go looking for her?” Lamar asked, his face pinched with worry.

  “Go looking for whom?”

  Justin and Lamar turned.

  Amanda staggered toward them, buried under the weight of all she had slung over her shoulders and clasped in her arms.

  Both guys quickly rushed to help. Justin took the heavy stand mixer with the stainless-steel mixing bowl and the cloth bag of perishable groceries. Lamar grabbed two big bags of assorted cooking utensils, gadgets and various baking sheets, which left Amanda with an oversize plastic clothes basket full of other food items and a cardboard box that had food processor scrawled across the side.

  It looked, Justin noted joyfully, as if she was finally moving in.

  “Why did you carry it all at once?” he asked.

  “I didn’t.” Amanda announced cheerfully. She set the basket on the floor and unloaded her belongings onto the stainless-steel island in the center of the oversize kitchen. “There’s more in my truck. So if you fellas are so inclined...”

  Smiling, Justin and Lamar headed for the door.

  “And don’t forget the plants!” Amanda called after them.

  Fifteen minutes later, they had unpacked everything. “What’s this?” Lamar asked, holding up what looked like a three-foot wooden baseball bat that was narrower on each end. “Some kind of sports equipment?”

  That would have been Justin’s guess.

  Amanda made a face. “No, silly. It’s a French rolling pin.”

  “Ahh,” both guys said at once.

  Amanda took the pin and tapped Lamar playfully on his shoulder. “We’re going to use it to make lunch today.”

  The teen quickly evidenced the panic Justin felt. What did either of them know about French pastry?

  “What about the bunkhouse floor?” Lamar asked quickly.

  “It only requires one more coat of sealant and that can’t go on until about one o’clock this afternoon. We have to make sure the previous coat is really dry before we apply the last one.”

  Lamar’s face fell, the way it always did when he had failed to get out of something he really wanted to avoid. “Oh.”

  Justin lifted his hands, already backing away. “Don’t look at me. Much as I’d love to join you two chefs, I have to put the finishing touches on the big grant application for the Lone Star United Foundation. It has to be mailed today.”

  Amanda was glad she wasn’t the one slaving over that huge stack of paperwork. “Well, good luck with that.”

  Grinning with relief, Justin disappeared.

  Amanda turned back to her charge. Lamar was still looking at the long wooden rolling pin Amanda had inherited from her grandmother. He sighed. “I don’t know about this....”

  Amanda clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We had fun cooking before, didn’t we?”

  Another sigh. “Well, yeah, but...”

  “And cooking is a skill you’re going to need in life, isn’t it?”

  Lamar frowned. “I suppose.”

  “So I’m going to teach you how to use a recipe, because if you can follow instructions, you can cook practically anything with a little practice.” She smiled. “And mark my words...you are going to be surprised at how easy it is to make
pizza from scratch.”

  At the word pizza, his eyes lit up.

  Giving him no more time to fret, Amanda dove in. She lined up the cup and spoon measures, brought out a packet of yeast, the flour, salt, sugar and thermometer.

  Briefly, she went through what everything was, then handed him a glass cup. “This is a one-cup liquid measure,” she said. “See how it’s marked off?”

  Lamar nodded, his expression serious.

  “Run the tap water to warm, and then fill it to the red line on top.”

  He did as required, then brought it back to her. “Let’s see how hot it is. We want it to be between 105 and 115 degrees.” They put the thermometer in, waited. Amanda smiled as the thermometer registered 107 degrees. “Perfect! Now we open up the packet and take a teaspoon of yeast, sprinkle it over the water and stir to mix.” She watched as he carefully complied, then gave him another reassuring glance. “Good. We’ll set this aside and wait for the yeast to activate—which will take about ten minutes.”

  They went on to measure the flour, salt and sugar into the mixing bowl. Amanda showed Lamar how to check the yeast for bubbles, then slowly add olive oil, and the yeast-and-water mixture to the bowl. When it was all blended, Amanda sprinkled flour on the counter and dumped the dough onto it.

  Justin walked in. He had a huge stack of papers. Amanda immediately recognized the big grant application. There were sticky notes protruding everywhere. “I’ve marked everywhere you have to sign and date,” he said. “So if you want to do this now...”

  Amanda looked at her hands, which were covered with flour. “Can it wait?”

  Justin frowned, impatient in a way he usually wasn’t. “This really needs to go out.”

  “If you put it on my desk, I’ll get to it as soon as I’m done here.”

  He slid her a long look. “It has to be mailed today.”

  “I’m headed into town later to pick up the window blinds for the bunkhouse. I can do it then.”

  “By five?” he prodded.

  Trying not to be annoyed by his unusually intense level of micromanagement, she nodded. “I promise. Okay?”