The Texan Quartet (Books 1-4) Omnibus

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The Texan Quartet (Books 1-4) Omnibus Page 80

by Claire Boston


  With that done, she called out to Toby. She crouched down so she was at eye level with her son. “We’re going over to George’s house,” she said.

  “Yes!” Toby said.

  Elle needed to be clear with him. “I need to talk to George about a couple of things. Do you think you could play on his swing while I do that?”

  “Sure, Mom. Then can I tell George how you beat up Dad?”

  She swallowed a smile at his exuberance. “If you want.”

  She took his hand and they headed to George’s house.

  ***

  Elle wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts and stared at George’s front door, working up the nerve to knock. She still had no idea what she was going to say to him, but she knew she had to apologize.

  “Aren’t you going to knock?” Toby asked.

  “Of course.” Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked loudly.

  There was no noise from inside. What if he wasn’t at home? She hadn’t wanted to call before she came, wasn’t sure what she’d say over the phone.

  As she was debating whether she should knock again, she heard footsteps coming to the door.

  She wiped her hands again and clenched them together, then decided it looked stupid, and put them by her side as the door opened. George stood there.

  He looked exhausted.

  His normally deep blue eyes were dulled with deep circles under them, and he stood as if his body weighed a ton.

  When he saw Elle he straightened. “Elle.” He reached out to touch her and then stopped, putting his hand down again.

  She hated that she’d made him hesitate. George’s little touches were what made her feel loved.

  Loved.

  There was no doubt George made her feel special, made her feel wanted, made her happy. But how did she feel about him?

  “Howdy, George!” Toby said.

  The smile that broke out over George’s face was beautiful. “Toby.” He squatted down and held his arms out. The kid dived into them and gave him a hug.

  George closed his eyes and held Toby tightly.

  Elle rubbed her chest as her heart swelled.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m great. Can I play on your swing?” George glanced up at Elle. She nodded. “Sure.”

  Toby ran past him and down the hall.

  “Can I come in?” Elle asked, the nerves building again now they were alone.

  George nodded, gestured her inside and closed the door behind her. She walked through to the backyard, where Toby was swinging, and took a seat at the outside table.

  George hesitated and then sat on the chair across from her.

  Her heart pinched. She’d made a mess of things with him and she wasn’t sure how to fix it.

  “George, I need to apologize,” she said, wanting to reach out and touch him but keeping her hands in front of her. “I was so upset yesterday and I blamed you, but it wasn’t your fault. It could have just as easily happened while I was there. If you hadn’t known what to do, things would have been a lot worse.” She didn’t want to consider the other possibilities.

  “I was supposed to be watching him,” George said, his voice quiet.

  She couldn’t stand the distance between them, the hurt in his voice. She leaned forward, placed a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, her voice stern. Somehow she needed to convince him. “And Toby’s fine today.”

  She smiled at Toby, who was singing as he swung.

  George just looked at her, his eyes sad.

  Silence fell between them. She needed to fill it. “I was at the café this morning,” she said, starting with the easiest. “I really appreciate you cleaning up.”

  “I had help,” he said and gave a small smile. “Imogen left her party to come.”

  “I know. She didn’t need to do that.” Elle closed her eyes. She’d been a burden to them all.

  “She wanted to,” he said simply.

  And wasn’t that the key? Elle had friends who wanted and were more than happy to help, who liked her and her son and welcomed them into their group. She didn’t know how she’d got so lucky.

  “Thank you,” Elle said, wanting to move closer but not risking it.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Your lists were great and I’ve called a few places and made arrangements for replacements this morning.”

  “I’m glad.”

  It was getting awkward, but still Elle didn’t have the courage to address the whole love issue. “Dean came by last night,” she said instead.

  George sat up straight, reached out to her, and dropped his hand. “He didn’t hurt you?”

  Elle shook her head. “I called the police and he was arrested.”

  “Really?” George raised an eyebrow. “That’s fantastic.”

  She nodded. “I realized he’ll never let it go. I couldn’t reason with him and now hopefully he’ll be out of our life.”

  “I’m happy for you.” He sounded it, but he seemed mostly sad.

  She shuffled in her seat. “About what you said yesterday …” How the hell was she supposed to say this?

  “I said a lot of things yesterday.” He was cautious.

  Elle stood up, paced away. “You said you loved me,” she said and it came out like an accusation.

  He nodded. “I do love you. I love you and Toby. I want you to marry me.”

  Elle’s jaw dropped.

  He sat there, watching her, more serious than she’d ever known him. He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t possibly mean it. Not after all the things she’d said. Marriage was a whole other thing from love. Damn, she had to concentrate on one thing at a time. She closed her mouth and then said, “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

  His mouth twitched in a smile. “Which bit?”

  “Both.”

  Dean had never told her he loved her and he definitely hadn’t wanted to marry her.

  “I told you I didn’t want a relationship. I wasn’t ready. I had to sort out my life first.” Twisting her hands together she walked toward him and then away.

  “Sometimes you find things you’re not looking for,” George said, his gaze steady. “I can wait until you’re ready.”

  Frustrated, scared and a little bit hopeful she asked, “What if I’m never ready?”

  “I’ll just love you anyway.” He was calm and the expression on his face was so open, so sure and so loving Elle was caught up in it. She reached out a hand to him.

  Dare she trust him?

  Dare she trust herself?

  George stood and took her hand, waiting. Always waiting patiently for her.

  She entwined her fingers with his, looking down at their hands.

  It felt right.

  That’s what being with George was like. A feeling of rightness, of being home, of being loved, and the giddy sensation of being wanted. He’d become the first person she wanted to call to talk about her day, to ask for help, just to talk to. Why hadn’t she realized it? She loved being with him. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him.

  She loved him.

  George brought his hand up to her cheek. “Are you all right? You’ve gone a little pale.”

  “I love you.” The words slipped out before she could think, before she could stop them.

  He stared at her, hope, doubt and surprise warring in his eyes.

  She laughed, the sound bubbling up inside her and bursting out. “I’ve been so slow to see it,” she said. “I love you.”

  She kissed him and his hand came around her waist, holding her tightly as if he was never going to let go. He kissed her back and Elle thought her head was going to float away, it was so light.

  “Say it again,” he said as he drew back.

  “I love you, George Jones.” It felt so right to say it.

  She laughed as he picked her up and spun her around. “Hallelujah!”

  George put her on the ground as Toby ran up to them.

  “W
hat’s going on?” Toby asked.

  “Your mom told me she loved me.” George beamed.

  Toby frowned. “So do I.”

  George laughed and picked Toby up and swung him around as well. Toby’s laughter-filled shrieks filled the air.

  Elle wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so happy. Here was this wonderful man who loved her, and loved her son, who she loved being with and couldn’t imagine her life without.

  The final piece clicked into place. She wanted to spend her life with George. Elle examined the idea from every angle. She loved him: he was kind, caring, funny and a wonderful person to be around. Toby loved him, had even asked if George could be his dad.

  She smiled, her heart swelling. She could do this, she could take control of her life, give Toby a father and give herself what she wanted – a loving man, a best friend, a husband.

  “There’s just one thing,” she said as he put Toby back on to the ground.

  “Anything,” he said.

  Elle took hold of his hand. “Will you marry me?” Her heart lifted as she asked, soaring with hope. “Will you take Toby and me into your life?”

  He looked at her, astonished, and then he grinned. “Absolutely. Just name the time and place.” He kissed her again.

  Elle couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Mom?” Toby tugged on her sleeve. His expression was a combination of hope and uncertainty.

  Elle kneeled down to him. “George has agreed to marry me. That means we’ll live with him and he’ll be your stepdad.”

  Toby’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas. He glanced between Elle and George. “George will be my dad?” he asked.

  George crouched down, his eyes moist. “I’d love to be your dad, if you want me.”

  “Yes!” Toby dived into George’s arms and hugged him tightly. “It’s what I wished for.”

  Watching her two favorite males, Elle knew she’d made the best choice of her life.

  Epilogue

  Elle locked the door to Eat, Drink, Read and turned the sign to Closed. She sighed with satisfaction. Her grand reopening had been an epic success with both music and poetry readings and people lining up for tables. It had been non-stop all day.

  “I think we’ve earned a drink and a meal out,” George said.

  She grinned, turning to her fiancé. He’d been there all day, helping out when needed, chatting with and charming customers, and when Toby had returned from his day with Harry, he’d kept her little boy amused. “I’ll say.” It had taken them less than a week to reopen the café with George loaning her the money for equipment until the insurance paid up. “What do you feel like?”

  “Chinese!” Toby voted. “Can we have Chinese please?”

  Elle glanced at George to check that worked for him too, before saying, “Sure, Toby-boy. I’ll just finish up here.” She still needed to count the takings.

  Her cell phone rang and getting it out of her bag she frowned.

  “Who is it?” George asked.

  “Martin.” She hadn’t spoken to Dean’s father since they’d met in the park. Would he be angry about the arrest? The police had matched Dean’s DNA to the cigarette butt found in the café and had charged him with burglary and criminal mischief. He was facing at least six months’ jail, possibly more.

  She answered the phone. “Hello, Martin.”

  “Elle. I’m so sorry.” He paused. “Sorry about everything that has happened between you and Dean. When I heard about what he’d done to your café …” He sighed. “I don’t know where Lindsay and I went wrong.”

  He was clearly upset. “Martin, I don’t blame you for Dean’s actions. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry it had to go as far as it did.” She walked into the kitchen so Toby couldn’t hear what she was saying.

  “Me too.” He paused. “Lindsay asked me to ask something of you. I don’t expect you to agree, but I have to ask. He is my son.”

  Elle braced herself.

  “Lindsay asked if you’d consider dropping the charges against Dean. She doesn’t want him to go to jail.”

  “No.” Elle didn’t have to even think about it. “I’m sorry, Martin, but I have Toby and my welfare to consider. Dean is violent and unpredictable.” She wasn’t even certain she had the power to do it. The break-in was a police issue. And there was no way she was dropping the domestic assault charges against him.

  “I know. I understand.”

  He sounded so tired. She wanted to offer him something. “Would you like to see Toby some time?”

  “Yes. We’d love to. Would you consider bringing him out to the ranch?”

  “Not with Dean there.” There was no way she was letting him near her son if she could help it. “But if he goes to jail, Toby could visit you.”

  “All right. I’ll talk with Lindsay and we’ll arrange a trip to Houston. Thank you, Elle.” He hung up.

  She disconnected and stood leaning up against the bench. She hoped Dean would go to jail, hoped it would shake him up enough for him to turn his life around and not so much that he would blame her and seek revenge. She really didn’t know what he would do.

  “Everything OK?” George asked, coming in to the room.

  “Yes. Martin wanted to apologize for Dean. Lindsay wants me to drop the charges against Dean.”

  George scowled. “What did you say?”

  “I told them no. Dean went too far.”

  “Good.”

  She smiled, walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. “Martin and Lindsay are going to come to Houston to see Toby.”

  “Toby will like that. They’re still his grandparents even if Dean agrees to give up his parental rights.”

  Elle was pleased he understood. When George had agreed to marry her, he’d asked whether he could adopt Toby. They’d consulted with Victoria and she’d put the necessary paperwork together. They were still waiting to hear whether Dean would agree to it.

  “Come on. I’m hungry,” she said walking back into the café area. “Let me count the till and we’ll go and get some dinner. I need to grab some groceries for tomorrow as well.” She was cooking dinner for her friends to thank them for everything they had done to help her.

  “Cash register has been counted.” George told her the numbers. “Toby and I did it while you were talking with Martin.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” It was wonderful not to have to do everything, but it would take some getting used to.

  Toby was sitting at one of the tables playing with his cowboy and astronaut.

  “Ready to go, Pardner?” George asked.

  “Ready!” Toby jumped to his feet, stuffed his toys into his bag and slung it on to his back. He grabbed George’s hand and then Elle’s. “Let’s go, Pardners.”

  Elle grinned.

  Toby was right.

  They were partners.

  Acknowledgments

  A big thank you to the Houston Police Department public relations office for answering a myriad of questions regarding police procedure so I could ensure I had all the details correct.

  And as always a huge thank you to the team at Momentum: Joel, Patrick, Ashley, Michelle, as well as Kate and Jon, for being so supportive and helping me make this book as good as it can be.

  Into the Fire

  The Texan Quartet #4

  Claire Boston

  Into the Fire

  Piper Atkinson uses the truth as a weapon, but her latest interview candidate is more than just a headline.

  Piper wants to be the kind of journalist who makes people sit up and take notice of the issues, and in Houston, Texas, there are plenty to go around. In the city’s high-end restaurant world, reclusive Native American chef Taima Woods is discussed in reverential whispers, so when the opportunity to interview him arrives, Piper jumps at it.

  But getting to Tai is tougher than she expected. He has a deep mistrust of reporters, and a private life he’d prefer to keep hidden. There are two passions in Tai’s life – his cooking and his tribe – and he means to k
eep it that way. But the closer Tai gets to Piper, the closer he comes to conceding a third.

  Through Tai, Piper discovers a world she knew nothing about – a damaged and ostracized community in need of a voice. But the more Piper wants to help them, the more Tai understands that to love Piper is to turn his back on his people.

  Will Tai reject the one woman who’s ever understood him? Or can Piper show him that hardening his heart helps no one?

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to those who want to change the world for the better.

  Chapter 1

  The bar was one of those hip places where the design was minimal and the prices were maximal. The tables were small to encourage intimate groups and conversations. Piper Atkinson scanned the faces in the dim lighting, hoping to catch sight of her friend, George. Stagehands were checking the microphone and equipment up front. George would be somewhere nearby, perhaps giving his client Adahy some last-minute words of encouragement.

  Piper hadn’t heard the singer yet, but Adahy had played at her friend Elle’s café and she’d said he was fabulous. A fusion of modern music with Native American beats.

  Close to the stage there was an empty table with a reserved sign on it. It was probably reserved for George.

  She ordered a drink and something to eat, and stood at the bar, waiting.

  “Is your daddy a baker? Because you’ve got a nice set of buns!” a deep male voice behind her said.

  Piper rolled her eyes and debated whether to ignore the pickup line or tell the guy off, when someone grabbed her butt. She whirled and slapped at the hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

  The man who’d both groped her and tried the cheesy pickup line was tall and built like a linebacker. His muscles bulged out of his too-small shirt and the glaze in his eyes told her he’d been in the bar a while.

  “Just checking out how fresh they are.”

  “Take a hike,” she said.

  Before he could respond, there was a tap-tap on the microphone. They both turned to the stage where one of the staff stood. He cleared his throat. “Let me introduce you to tonight’s entertainment. He’s a born and bred Texan – Adahy Woods.”

 

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