Bidding on a Texan Read online

  It was easy to see she wouldn’t get any more local cowboys on board by herself. For better or worse, Rafe was her best bet to change their minds. And if she could recruit a few more cowboys, then she could get Mandee on board, and then she’d have a fighting chance of pulling this whole thing off.

  She flounced back into the cubicle, pulled the curtain and stripped off the red shirt.

  The flowered shirt felt like it was almost new. But the style was outrageous.

  He gazed at her critically for a moment. “Let’s call that plan B.”

  “Let’s call it plan H.”

  “The snake print?” he suggested.

  “I wasn’t even going to try that one on.”

  “Come on. Be a sport.”

  “Fine. If only to prove you wrong.”

  “Go ahead. Prove me wrong. I dare you.”

  Back in the cubicle again, she stripped down to her cream-colored lace bra and slipped into the slinky fabric of the silver-and-blue snakeskin shirt. It felt embarrassingly supple against her skin, whisper-thin without being at all translucent.

  She moved, twisting from one side to the other, watching the light play off the subtle pattern. She didn’t hate it. She’d give it that.

  “Come on out,” Rafe called.

  She pulled back the curtain.

  He gazed for a moment. “Now all you need is a ponytail and we can have a little fun.”

  “Hard work,” she muttered to herself as she turned in the mirrored, checking over her shoulder to see how it looked from behind. “But a critical path is a critical path.”

  “Did you just say I was on your critical path?” He was suddenly closer, and the timbre of his voice rumbled through her.

  She turned and they came face-to-face. Her chest tightened as a now-familiar surge of desire rose within her.

  “I said...” She lost her train of thought.

  “Yeah?” he prompted. There was no denying the heat in his dark eyes.

  She searched her brain for logic. “Cowboys.” She landed on it. “Cowboys are on my critical path.”

  “I’m a cowboy.” He quirked a half smile, and her desire ramped up further.

  Did the man have to look so kissable?

  “New cowboys...for the auction.” She felt like she was subtly swaying his way, but she couldn’t tell if it was an illusion.

  “So, not me,” he said. “At least not here. Not right now.”

  She didn’t really understand the question. If it even was a question.

  He touched the fabric at her shoulder, rubbing it between his fingertips. “Soft.” Then his fingers rested lightly on her shoulder, warm through the fabric. “I want to kiss you, you know.”

  Gina had no response for that. She didn’t want to say no, but she was afraid to say yes.

  He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Then he glanced around at the other shoppers. “But that’s going to have to wait.”

  Wait? As in, later? As in, he was planning to kiss her at some point in the future?

  It seemed like something she should shut down right away, refuse to be drawn into. She should tell him a kiss between them wasn’t going to happen now—or ever. But her focus was on his dark lips, imagining them against her own, hot, tender, probing.

  Oh, man. This was going to be—

  “So, we’re agreed?” he asked.

  “On the kiss?”

  His grin went wide, flashing white with obvious amusement. “On the shirt.”

  Mortification suffused her. “Right.” She swallowed then stepped back and turned away. “I’ll go change.”

  His hand shot out to cup her shoulder.

  She paused and looked back, and the air crackled between them.

  “The kiss, too,” he said with a meaningful lift of his brow.

  * * *

  Fourteen ranches and twenty cowboys later, Gina was beaming in the passenger seat as they whizzed back down the highway. Their windows were open and fresh wheatgrass-scented air billowed through the SUV.

  Rafe was happy to be done and heading back to Royal. The sun was setting, and he had kissing Gina on his mind.

  “That’s thirty in all,” she said, satisfaction in her voice.

  It was odd, but she seemed to have grown into the casual clothes over the course of the day. She looked sexier than ever slouched down in the seat, wisps of her brunette hair blowing loose around her face.

  “That sounds good,” he said.

  “It’s the perfect number. There’s some duplication in the ranches, sure. The Nester Ranch has three cowboys participating. But that place is huge. We’ll be able to get a ton of different still shots to sell it on the website.”

  Rafe knew his presence had helped the effort. His family was familiar with everyone in the community. At some point in his life, he’d either worked with or partied with every rancher in both Maverick and Colonial Counties. The fact that he was enthusiastically participating in the auction had gone a long way toward boosting their confidence in the project.

  But that didn’t detract from Gina’s effort. Once she’d calmed down a little and taken some of the intensity out of her pitch, she’d done well with the ranchers. They were great people, and invariably ready to step up for their neighbors.

  “Two Cortez-Williams cowboys, too,” he noted.

  “I’ll never forget that you were first.”

  He glanced momentarily her way. “I wasn’t looking for gratitude.”

  “I know. But none of this would have happened without you. On both fronts.”

  “You did good back there,” he told her honestly. “Once you relaxed.”

  “I was nervous. Some of those guys had already turned me down.”

  “But you got right back on the horse.”

  “I did.” She gave a nod. “Mandee Meriweather will have to admit it’s worthwhile now.”

  “That can wait until tomorrow.” It was coming up on eight o’clock in the evening. “You hungry? We could stop in Joplin.”

  She sat up straight. “Ooh. Have you ever been to Custom Creekside?”

  He gave her a sidelong look of incredulity. “You’re asking a restaurant owner if he’s checked out the competition?”

  “When you put it that way...I guess you have.”

  “That’s right. So you want to hop in the back seat and turn yourself into the real Gina?” He wasn’t anxious for her to do that, but her dress and jacket were in the back of the SUV if she wanted to change for the upscale restaurant.

  She seemed to hesitate.

  “Or we could stop at the Twin Bears instead,” he said.

  “I’ve never been there.”

  Her answer didn’t surprise him. “Burgers and milkshakes. All homemade, great stuff.”

  She pulled down the sun visor and checked out her face in the little mirror. “I’m definitely beyond repair.”

  She looked gorgeous to him.

  “Twin Bears it is,” she said, flipping the mirror back up.

  Rafe was glad to hear that, because he wanted Gina to stay exactly the way she was.

  Five miles down the road, he swung onto Blackbird Boulevard. The Twin Bears was on the edge of town, well away from the upscale shops and restaurants. It had a big parking lot with wide spaces to accommodate pickup trucks and family-friendly SUVs.

  Gina recombed and refastened her ponytail before they left the vehicle.

  They crossed the lot to a covered porch and a set of wide wood-beamed doors that were the main entrance. He grasped the oversize handle to pull the door open and let Gina go in first.

  The Twin Bears was a lively place with a big square bar in the center that had seating all around it. Polished wood tables with rounded burgundy leather chairs were nicely spaced throughout the rest of the big dining room. Two of the wa
lls were dotted with windows, showcasing miniature palm tree gardens with little white lights that were just coming on in the dusk.

  It was a seat yourself kind of place, and Rafe led them to a table against a brick feature wall.

  A waitress immediately appeared to fill two red-tinted water glasses with a stream of ice water.

  “Can I get y’all something to drink?” she asked.

  Rafe looked to Gina.

  “What should I try?” she surprised him by asking.

  “I’m getting an Irish Freeze. It’s a coffee, caramel, whiskey milkshake.”

  “Our most popular,” the young waitress said. She handed Gina a slim drink menu. “But we’ve got Guinness and Baileys, peach bourbon, coconut chocolate rum, and boozy banana cream.”

  “Think I’ll go with the favorite,” Gina said with a smile and handed back the menu. “When in Rome.” Her gaze turned to Rafe and went warm.

  Which had him thinking about their kiss again.

  The waitress handed them each a food menu and disappeared.

  “Do I even need to look at this?” Gina asked him. “Or can I count on your expertise?”

  “I’m getting a loaded Angus burger with wedge fries—messy sauce, but well worth it.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “You haven’t led me wrong so far today.”

  “You’re having an Angus burger?” He couldn’t hide his surprise.

  She hadn’t struck him as a messy burger kind of woman. Then again, she hadn’t stuck him as a milkshake kind of gal, either. She was slender and, well, to be blunt, pretty fussy. He’d have expected her to look for a kale and responsibly harvested seafood salad.

  “Sure,” she said, a challenge in her expression.

  “Is this the clothes?” he asked with a thread of humor. “Did they magically change Gina Edmond from a princess to a cowgirl?”

  “This princess has a lot of layers to her.”

  The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Rafe placed their dinner order. Afterward, Gina took a sip of her milkshake, and her eyes went wide.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Amazing. I don’t usually indulge in things like this.”

  “Imagine my surprise.”

  “Hey.”

  “I took you for a cabernet sauvignon hundred-point grand cru kind of woman.”

  “Now you’re just baiting me,” she accused.

  “A little,” he admitted. “But tell me it’s not true. Tell me your daddy’s wine cellar isn’t full of old-world wines from the very best years of overpriced vineyards.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Not a wine person?” That surprised him.

  “I drink whatever the chef pours.”

  Rafe couldn’t help but laugh. “The was the snobbiest defense of snobbery I’ve ever heard.”

  “I meant I don’t spend any time in Daddy’s wine cellar.”

  “I know. But you have to admit...”

  She took another sip of her milkshake. “I don’t have to admit anything to you. I think you have wine envy.”

  “Me?” He hated that it came out like a weak question instead of a strong denial. He hated it more that she was right. He’d kill for Rusty Edmond’s wine cellar.

  “No restaurant can compete with a private collection,” she allowed. “Unless you’ve got nothing but millionaires as your clientele.”

  “We’ve been increasing and improving our selection.”

  She looked guilty. “I shouldn’t have picked on you.”

  Great. Now he had her pity. How had that happened?

  “I have plenty of fine wines at RCW.”

  “And I have a terrific milkshake.” She stirred it with her straw.

  Their burgers arrived then, hot and fragrant on huge wooden platters.

  She looked the half-pound monstrosity up and down. It was layered with tomatoes, lettuce, mushrooms and Twin Bears’ famous sauce.

  Rafe could see she was overwhelmed.

  He lifted the sharp wood-handled knife from his cutlery selection. “Want me to cut it in half for you?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He reached across the table and sliced through her burger.

  “I don’t depend on my dad for everything,” she said as she wrapped a paper napkin over the rounded edge of a burger half.

  “Who said you did?”

  “You implied it.”

  He lifted his burger from the sides, knowing the sauce would drip onto his plate. “You’re the precious daughter of a town legend. Everybody thinks you’ve had an easy ride.”

  “In some ways I suppose I have,” she agreed.

  “Current situation notwithstanding,” Rafe concurred. “But even with the embezzlement, your family’s in better shape than most.” He took a first bite of the juicy burger. It was as delicious as he’d remembered.

  “And I’m trying to do my part to help the town.”

  Rafe nodded his agreement with that.

  Gina took a first bite. Like she had with the milkshake, her eyes lit up with appreciation. “Mmm.”

  “Right? And you don’t even have to dress up for it.” He looked around at the other patrons, all casually dressed, many of them families. And then turned to take in the cheerful waitstaff moving efficiently from table to table amid the hum of friendly conversation.

  “It’s a nice place,” Gina agreed. “Laid-back, relaxed.”

  “You don’t do this often?” Rafe couldn’t help but ask.

  “Eat hamburgers?”

  “Relax.”

  The question seemed to stump her. “How do you mean?”

  “Take time for yourself...enjoy some peace and quiet, a little comfort food, maybe read a book.”

  “You do know where I live, right?” It was a rhetorical question.

  He answered anyway. “The infamous Elegance Ranch.”

  “Not exactly a hotbed of casual peace and quiet,” she told him, taking another draw on her milkshake. “Wow. This is sinfully tasty.”

  He thought about warning her that it packed a punch but decided against it. At the same time, he flagged the waitress for a cup of coffee so he could switch to a nonalcoholic beverage. “No privacy?” he prompted her.

  “CEOs of major oil companies don’t punch out at five o’clock.”

  “You’re not a CEO of a major oil company.”

  “I live with one, and I work for one.”

  “It bleeds into your homelife?”

  “It’s no secret that my dad isn’t one for big social gatherings. But he does his share of schmoozing.”

  “You’d have to at his level,” Rafe reasoned. He himself made sure to stay in touch with industry organizations and his fellow restaurateurs, also with suppliers and marketing influencers.

  Locking eyes with him, she took another drink. She’d made it about halfway through her burger and eaten quite a few of the fries.

  He was surprised she’d done that well, given the size of the meal and the size of her. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Go for it.” She picked up another crispy fry. “These things are addictive.”

  “What do you do in the evenings when your father is entertaining business associates?”

  “Smile,” she said.

  “And?”

  “Nod. I nod a lot.”

  “I thought you had a job with the company.”

  “I do.”

  “What’s your title?”

  She hesitated a moment before answering. “Senior vice president of corporate relations.”

  “Relations with who?”

  Her lighthearted mood abruptly disappeared. “Are you done? Should we get going?”

  Five

  Gina might be on the move now, but it was hardly smooth sailing.
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br />   Mandee Meriweather and Royal Tonight! were now on board for the auction, and Gina had thirty-two cowboys signed up—since two more had called after the recruitment drive. She also had her full project plan mapped out on her laptop. But she had a long way to go on plan implementation, and a very tough sales pitch to make to her father.

  As she entered the reception hall of the Elegance Ranch, with its cool marble floor and twin curving wrought iron staircases leading to the second floor, she could hear her father’s voice from the library through the carved wooden archway. She hoped whoever was with him this evening wouldn’t stay long. Their conversation was going to be difficult, and she wanted to get it over with.

  “That is not what I wanted to hear,” her father complained.

  Great. He was in a mood. Then again, when wasn’t he in a mood lately?

  Nobody answered, but that didn’t stop him from continuing. “He didn’t just disappear into thin air. Can we not get the FBI involved?” Rusty went silent for a minute. “That’s what I’m paying you top dollar for. To get me results.”

  Gina guessed he was on the phone, presumably talking to the private investigation firm he’d hired to look for Billy. Rusty wasn’t ready to admit Billy was his son from a long-ago affair with Antoinette Holmes. But Billy’s social media posts were getting increasingly darker.

  He claimed to have become Ross’s college roommate and confidant to use what he learned about the Edmond family to worm his way in. It was a revenge plot years in the making and a thousand lies in its execution, and Gina felt sick every time she discovered something new.

  She considered going up to her room and talking to her father later. But she’d steeled herself for this conversation, and she wanted to get it over with. She dropped her purse on a side table and waited for the phone call to end.

  “See that you do,” Rusty all but shouted into the phone. “I’ll be waiting on an answer.”

  Silence reigned until the library’s grandfather clocked bonged the hour. Gina waited a minute longer before walking briskly into the richly furnished wood-paneled room to find her father standing in front of the main bookshelf, next to the spotless cherrywood desk.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  “You’re home.” He seemed surprised to see her and not particularly happy.