Bidding on a Texan Read online

  “Excuse me?” If he was so resentful of her, why had he even offered to help?

  “You’re used to people loving you unconditionally, so you go boldly forward wherever the muse takes you.”

  “I am not.” Sure, she’d grown up in privilege, but she wasn’t naive. She thought about her actions before she took them—all the time.

  “Ah, Princess.” He shook his head.

  “Quit calling me that.”

  “Then quit being one.”

  “You act like I’m spoiled when I’m stepping up. I’m taking the lead to solve the problem,” she pointed out.

  “You call that taking the lead?”

  “What else would you call it?”

  “Suggesting an elaborate idea off the cuff.”

  “It was a good idea.” She regretted stopping to thank him for his help. The big jerk sure didn’t deserve it.

  “It wasn’t a terrible idea,” he conceded.

  “Well, I didn’t hear you suggest anything better.”

  When he didn’t answer, she felt emboldened.

  “And my idea turned out to be the best.”

  He gave a slow smile at her declaration. “Were you also teacher’s pet?”

  She tensed. “Why are you criticizing me?”

  “Because no one ever has. It was an idea, Gina. It’s a decent idea. But it’s going to take a whole lot more than the flicker inside your brain to pull this off.”

  “I never said I was finished.” She got that there was more to do. She wasn’t exactly sure how that more would happen, but that was step two.

  “Yeah?” he said, widening his stance. “What are you going to do next?”

  “I’m going...” Her mind started to work. They’d need liability insurance. A venue to hold the auction. And they’d need—

  “Yes?” he prompted.

  “Cowboys,” she said, confident in her decision. “We need more cowboys to increase the profits.” Only ten had volunteered tonight.

  “Where are you going to get them?”

  Ha. She had an answer for that. “The TCC.”

  “Your daddy’s out of favor with the members right now.”

  She was insulted again. “I’m not running to my father for help.”

  “You’ve lost your sheen at the TCC, too. Your whole family has. And a lot of those TCC guys don’t even have working ranches anymore.”

  She leaned in, challenging him. “Are you going to stand there and shoot down all of my ideas?”

  “I’m trying to help.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  He shifted slightly closer, and she picked up his woodsy scent. His big, tall form was imposing, his face ruggedly handsome, with that chiseled chin and the shadow of a beard, and those deep dark eyes that made his mood a mystery.

  She would have guessed he was angry, but an energy also lurked in their depths. It looked more like excitement than ire. But maybe she was projecting. Because she was excited—no, aroused. And that wasn’t good.

  “I want you to succeed,” he said, pulling her off the emotional tangent. It was frighteningly easy to get lost in Rafe’s magnetism.

  “By insulting me?” she asked.

  “By grounding you in the real world.”

  “I’m grounded.”

  He chuckled at that. The rich sound cascaded around her, amplifying her attraction and threatening to distract her from the argument again.

  She caught herself just in time. “Have you paid any attention for the last few weeks?”

  His expression hardened, shadowed by the overhead light. “Believe me, Princess, I’ve paid plenty of attention.”

  “Then you know what I’ve been through.”

  “This isn’t about you.”

  She stumbled over that. Gina knew his business was in trouble, and she hadn’t meant to imply it was about her. She was trying to fix the problem, for all of them.

  Rafe stepped even closer. “Take that as a lesson.”

  While she didn’t exactly understand, she didn’t want to admit it. So instead, she stood her ground while her brain struggled for a cogent response and her hormones galloped off with unbridled attraction.

  He had a confident tilt to his chin, a hungry gleam in his eyes, but a softness to his full lips—especially the lower one—that made them kissable, highly kissable.

  He bent slightly forward, then stopped. A heartbeat went by, and she could almost feel his hot lips graze hers. But then he straightened instead. He stepped back, and his words sounded far away. “Let me know if I can help some more.”

  She shook herself back to reality and to the unmistakable feeling she’d been bested at something. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what.

  “Uh...okay.” It was the best she could come up with on the fly, her hormones still clouding her brain.

  He seemed to focus on her forehead as he took another step away. “Night, Gina.”

  “Good night.”

  He turned for his vehicle then, long strides taking him effortlessly away.

  She watched his smooth gait, firming her own legs beneath her, struggling to ascertain how he’d so easily hijacked her hormones and used them against her.

  Then he paused at the driver’s door and turned, looking back at her one more time as the night wind brushed her heated skin.

  * * *

  Rafe couldn’t put his finger on what had happened last night. One minute he was teasing Gina Edmond about her ineptitude and inexperience, the next he was headed in for a kiss and fighting a sudden startling desire to haul her into the back seat of his SUV and—

  “So, you just stood there and let him?” Matias’s question brought Rafe back to the present as the two men crossed the RCW Steakhouse patio.

  Rafe set the two Tex-Mex omelets he’d cooked up in the RCW kitchen on a dining table by the rail that bordered one of the town’s greenbelts. The restaurant didn’t open for another three hours, and it was still comfortably cool outside. Maples and oak trees dotted the lush grass and would shade the tables once afternoon rolled around.

  Rafe sat on a padded chair, settling in. “He didn’t stop to ask me before he did it.”

  Matias sat across from him, dropping utensils in the middle of the table and setting a steaming cup of coffee in front of each of them. “He had no right to just up and volunteer me.”

  “You got something better to do?” Rafe told himself he didn’t care if his brother participated in the auction or not.

  Gina would be disappointed, sure. But it wasn’t up to Rafe to keep Gina Edmond happy, even if she did have the greatest smile west of New Orleans, or maybe it was west of Miami, probably even Rome.

  “Yes,” Matias said.

  “Like what?”

  Matias cut into his omelet. “Plenty of things—horse training, irrigation, tractor maintenance.”

  “We haven’t even picked a date.”

  “It doesn’t matter the date. I’m busy. Tell her no.”

  “Me? You tell her no.” Not that Rafe wanted to give up a chance to see Gina again.

  “I’m not good around pretty women.” Matias took a bite of the omelet.

  For some reason, Rafe was hit with a jolt of jealousy. “Pretty?”

  Matias swallowed, then lifted his tall black coffee mug with the stylized RCW logo. “We are talking about Gina Edmond, right?”

  “Yes.” There was no other.

  Matias gave a gesture with the cup that clearly said then what are you talking about?

  His brother was right.

  “You’re fine around pretty women,” Rafe said instead.

  “If I’m making them happy, sure.” A sly gleam came into Matias’s eyes. “It’s when I’m disappointing them—”

  “And I know you’ve had plenty practice at
that.” With a satisfied grin, Rafe put a bite of the spicy omelet in his mouth, enjoying the results of his efforts. He was nowhere near JJ’s caliber, but he could whip up a mean omelet.

  “You’d know more about disappointing them than me,” Matias retorted.

  “No complaints,” Rafe said. “Well, maybe a few complaints.” With a self-deprecating grin, he took a swig of his hot coffee.

  Matias chuckled.

  “Just do it,” Rafe said. “It’ll take a day. Make a little money for the town. Show some community spirit.”

  His brother watched him for a moment. “You still feel it, don’t you?”

  “Feel what?”

  “That you’re not really one of them, not good enough, don’t fit into the business leaders’ clique in the chamber.”

  “I fit in fine,” Rafe lied. “RCW is one of the top-rated, most successful restaurants in Royal. People come from Dallas for our T-bones, never mind the sambal shrimp. We had a write-up in Southwestern Gourmet just last month. They featured our cranberry apple pastry.”

  “Methinks the cowboy protests too much.”

  Rafe realized he had. “I was only making a point.”

  Matias’s expression turned thoughtful, and he sobered. “Is that what you’re so scared of losing?”

  “I’m not scared.” Worried was a better word.

  But Matias kept following his line of thinking. “If the restaurant closes, you know you won’t go personally bankrupt. And I don’t think you care about Dad’s opinion as much as you pretend you do.”

  “Would you want an I-told-you-so from Dad?”

  “Nobody wants that.” He was watching Rafe closely now. “But you can take it.”

  Rafe didn’t like where this was leading, mostly because it was hitting close to home. He raised his voice for emphasis. “It’s simple. I’ve put my heart and soul into this place. I don’t want to lose my restaurant to bankruptcy.”

  Rafe caught a movement in the corner of his eye. He twisted his head to see JJ standing there.

  “Sorry, boss,” the chef said, turning to go. But there was no way he could have missed Rafe’s statement.

  “You heard that,” Rafe said.

  JJ looked back, disheartened. He nodded.

  Rafe gave in to the inevitable. “Come and join us. Grab a coffee.”

  Matias exchanged a look with Rafe while JJ got himself a cup of coffee.

  “He didn’t know?” Matias asked unnecessarily.

  “I was going to have to tell him sometime.”

  “Man,” Matias said on the whoosh of a breath. He knew JJ was one of the foundational staff members at RCW. He’d worked almost as hard as Rafe to ensure its success. And unlike Rafe, JJ relied on a regular paycheck to support his mother and his extended family.

  “I’m not going to let it happen,” Rafe said to JJ as he sat down between them.

  “But it’s possible?” JJ asked, twisting his cup back and forth.

  Matias took another bite of his omelet.

  “Yes,” Rafe admitted. “But the whole town’s trying to dig everyone out of the financial hole.”

  “Even the Edmonds?” JJ asked, knowing as everyone else did that the Edmonds’ fortune was legendary. “Will they take an equity stake in RCW?” He frowned at that. “It’s none of my business, Rafe, but I don’t think you want to get tangled up with that family.”

  “I’d listen to JJ,” Matias chimed in.

  “I’m not going into business with the Edmonds,” Rafe stated firmly. Giving up a piece of RCW would be his very last choice of a solution. And Rusty Edmond was reputed to be cutthroat in business. “They’re fundraising and donating to the cause. To start, there’s an auction coming up.”

  “And that’s where I came in,” Matias said, setting down his fork, clearly preparing to leave.

  “An auction?” JJ asked.

  “It might be workable, and it might not.” Rafe didn’t really trust Gina to pull it off on her own, never mind turn it into the kind of marquee event they’d need to raise a serious amount of money. “A cowboy experience auction.”

  “With genuine ranchers,” Matias put in with disgust. He pointed to himself and to Rafe. “Local sacrificial lamb cowboys who are apparently required to humiliate themselves on the auction block.”

  JJ ventured a little grin as he glanced between the two men. “Luckily, my Malaysian heritage is in fishing.”

  “You grew up in Maverick County,” Matias said.

  “Not on horseback,” JJ countered.

  “You’re worrying way too much about doing it,” Rafe said to his brother. “Chill. It’ll take one day, tops.”

  “Will it help recoup our losses?” JJ asked.

  “Yes,” Rafe said, silently hoping so.

  “Then saddle up, cowboy,” JJ told Matias. “We’ve got a business to save.”

  * * *

  Gina was pondering Rafe’s advice, even though he’d given it sarcastically. She’d sat out on her bedroom balcony and thought through the mechanics of pulling off an auction. And to her consternation, she’d come up with about a hundred moving parts.

  Her degree was in business administration with a major in marketing. But she’d never had to put any of her skills to use. She came home from college to a guaranteed job in the family oil company with an executive assistant, a spacious office and very little work to do. She’d eventually fallen into the habit of reading company reports, attending board meetings, taking long lunches and asking very few questions, since her father kept an iron grip on operations, they had excellent employees, and the company was thriving without her participation.

  Since she’d never managed a real project before, she’d spent this entire morning strategizing a plan of action and then formulating a task list that had eventually frightened her, since about ten different things had to happen right away.

  Resisting an urge to throw a dart to choose her starting point, she settled on Mandee Meriweather. The host of the celebrity gossip show, Royal Tonight!, was far from Gina’s favorite TV personality, but she was popular and could bring the event some much-needed publicity.

  She drove directly to the studio and approached the reception counter on the ground floor, giving the middle-aged woman sitting there a bright smile. “Good morning. I wanted to talk to someone about Royal Tonight!”

  The receptionist gave her a critical up-and-down look.

  Gina was wearing a lightweight sleeveless dress, pure white on top, snug in the bodice, with a kicky flared skirt in a flowing autumn leaf pattern that grew denser and bolder toward the hem. She’d paired it with classic cream-colored heeled sandals and a few pieces of plain gold jewelry, except for her earrings, which were a cascade of jade beads set in gold, nicely balancing the highlights of the leaves. Her brunette hair was left free and flowing, and she’d tucked her sunglasses on top of her head.

  She had no idea why the woman was frowning.

  “We don’t directly hire talent,” the receptionist said.

  “I’m not here—”

  “Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked.

  “No. I have a proposal for—”

  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to call for an appointment.”

  “Call?” Gina was standing right here.

  “Or you can go to our website royaltonight-dot-com.”

  “To make an appointment?” Did the process need to be that convoluted?

  “To submit your portfolio.”

  Gina calmed her annoyance. “I’m not here looking for a job. I’d like to make an appointment with whoever schedules shows for Royal Tonight!”

  The woman heaved a heavy sigh. Then she extracted a business card and pushed it across the reception counter to Gina. “If you don’t want to use the website, then call this number.”

  Gina heard
the door open behind her. “You can’t book me an appointment now?”

  “All appointments are done through central booking.” The receptionist’s attention moved past Gina. “Can I help you with something?” She put on a welcoming smile to greet the new arrival.

  Gina looked sideways to see a crisply dressed, serious-looking thirtysomething woman.

  The woman handed the receptionist a business card. “I’m Taylor Millen from Kuntz and Walker. I was wondering if one of the marketing reps had time for a quick chat.”

  The receptionist picked up her phone and pressed a few buttons.

  Ms. Millen gave Gina a nod, and Gina nodded back.

  “Do you have time for a walk-in?” the receptionist asked into the phone. She waited a minute. “Thank you, Peter.” She put down the phone and pointed to a hallway to the right of the reception area. “You can go right in. Third door on the left.”

  “Thank you so much,” Taylor said before moving on her way.

  The receptionist looked back at Gina, her expression making it clear she wondered why Gina was still there.

  She wondered that, too. Why was she still cooling her heels in the reception area? Was she not a walk-in? Maybe she needed a business card. Better still, she should get herself a no-nonsense navy blue suit and a pair of glasses.

  She pocketed the card with the phone number and headed out to the sidewalk, deciding to give up on the receptionist and just call. Hopefully, she could book an appointment for today or tomorrow.

  Three voice mail messages later, with no idea when they’d call back, Gina sat in her car, tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel. She’d blown most of her first morning on the auction project, and she had practically nothing to show for it.

  She thought about cowboys. But that made her think about Rafe. She didn’t want to think about Rafe, especially after their near-kiss last night...

  She shook the image of him from her mind, backing further up in the evening to her conversation with Ross and Asher. But thinking of Ross and Asher made her think about her father and how she hadn’t yet told him about the auction. She promised herself she’d do that tonight, after dinner, after he’d had a bourbon or two. Then she moved on.