A Texas Chance (10 page)

Her pupils were huge and dark…and worried. “Cade, we shouldn’t mix… This isn’t wise.”

He smiled though he felt more like howling. “Babe, this is going to happen. Count on it.” Soon this draw between them would prove too much, and her control would snap—or his would. But for now, he could manage.

He yanked his attention from her to the screen before she could protest his words. “Okay…” He needed a big, deep breath himself. “Pay attention, Sophie. Help a guy out.”

“Yeah, right.” She snorted, but he heard the grin in her voice.

And liked her more than ever for it.

He clicked on the second image and was rewarded with another gasp of pleasure.

He would seduce many more gasps from her before they were done with each other.

A few of them would even be about photographs.

O
NCE
S
OPHIE
FINALLY
went to bed, her sleep had been populated by mountains and jungles, by restless dreams and wishes she couldn’t hold on to when she awoke.

The next day, she watched Cade come through the gate, but she kept herself back and focused on her own work. After last night, she needed to keep some distance between them. They hadn’t discussed him continuing to work here, but waiting for permission clearly wasn’t his style. He seemed more at peace, though, when he was active, and Jenna said her family was worried he’d just take off if he got too restless, so she would let things be for now.

Would he really let her hang those stunning photographs he’d shown her last night? Though she’d never been able to spell out exactly what she’d been seeking, somehow he’d come up with something even more remarkable. Those photographs would be amazing in any marketing materials she put together, and she wanted them desperately—but she hadn’t discussed price with Cade. And even if she could manage his price, how would she ever pay to have them framed? And after they’d settled on the photos, would he leave—? Oh, he was making her crazy and they’d barely even kissed.

A secret smile played over her lips. They’d barely kissed, yes, but…wow. What kisses they’d been.
This is going to happen,
he’d vowed.

It couldn’t. It shouldn’t. She had no time for such foolishness, but…

She wanted it to happen, all of it. Scraps of fevered dreams returned to her then, images of his tough, rangy body entwined with hers—

“Señorita Sophie.”

“Hmm?” Oh, good grief. Bad enough her sleep had been spotty, but here she was daydreaming about Cade and hadn’t noticed Armando’s approach. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“We have cleared the path down to the lake. The branches could be chipped to make mulch for your flower beds, if you would like. Renting a chipper would be cheaper than hauling them off.”

Renting. Another expense. Did the landscaper have his own? She’d been trying to get in touch with him for days, and had been unable to get through to him. “Do you know how much renting might be, Armando?”

“I will check before I come tomorrow, okay?”

She had to thank Jenna again—Armando worked hard and was so careful with her money. “That would be wonderful, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“No problem. We will see you tomorrow, then.”

With a start, Sophie realized the sun was slipping behind the trees to the west. “Of course. Will you close the gate as you leave?”

“Yes, though Cade is still here, working on the casita.”

“Casita?”

“The small house he is making from the little shed. Do you have a name for it?”

“I don’t. Maybe casita is best, you think?”

“Perhaps you will know when it is finished. He works hard, that man. It will not be long.”

She glanced in the direction of the structure they were discussing, as though she could see it through the walls of the hotel. He did work hard. Aside from a brief, neutral good-morning hours before, they hadn’t spoken today.

Though more than once, she’d caught him staring at her, that dark blue gaze unnerving.

Other than those times, she’d only seen Cade in passing as he shouldered lumber she worried was too heavy for his still-recovering body to be carrying. When she’d ventured that opinion, however, his look had said without words that solicitude was not welcome.

I have a mother six hundred miles away,
he’d already pointed out.

He came around the side of the house just then and she yanked her eyes away. Was there any sight yummier than a muscular man in a sweat-soaked T-shirt with a tool belt around his lean hips?

No, what Sophie felt for Cade was anything but maternal.

Absently she said goodbye to Armando and returned to her painting, noticing that Cade disappeared behind the house again. When she finished the segment of the border she was painting, she yielded to temptation and decided to go see the path Armando had cleared, the one she’d been eagerly awaiting. She set her brushes to soak and wandered out on the porch, stretching her aching back then bending forward, placing her hands flat on the floor and reversing the stretch. She rocked side to side, easing the kinks from her legs, then went limp, bent over her legs again, letting the day’s tension ease from a body that stayed tense too much of the time.

“Pretty impressive, Queenie.”

She jolted up to standing. He was staring at her again. “I thought I was alone.”

He brandished an insulated bottle. “I was just refilling my water supply.”

“Are you all r—” She clamped her lips together.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Now I know you weren’t going to ask me if I’m okay ’cause you wouldn’t want to hover, right?” A slow smile spread. “Yes, Mom, I’m fine. Been staying hydrated. How about you?”

He stood there, hip-shot and cocky, so incredibly male.
This is going to happen
.

She wished he’d hurry up and make it happen.

She wished he’d go away.

She wished…

Sophie tore her attention from Cade. “I’m fine. Are you about finished? I’m going to check out the path Armando cleared.” Without waiting for his answer, she moved across the grass toward the trees. She entered the winding path she’d envisioned as a passage to another sort of hideaway, in character with the hotel itself. Branches were still stacked in neat piles, so the view was not yet what it would be, but…

“What is it?”

She hadn’t noticed that Cade had followed her until he spoke.

“It’s going to be so beautiful. And look, the lake! You can get little glimpses of it through the trees.” She turned to him. “Someday I want to have benches at certain spots like this one, and maybe another gazebo and—oh! That little clearing would be perfect for a big swing hanging from that tree.” In that moment she knew all the backbreaking work was going to be worth it. This would be the jewel she’d dreamed it would be. For the first time in weeks, she was beginning to truly believe she hadn’t made a horrible mistake and dragged Maura down with her.

“Have dinner with me.”

“What?” She turned to see Cade watching her. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring at me. Why?”

“I can’t think you’re beautiful?” But his gaze slid to the side.

“Looking like this?” She laughed. “I’m a wreck.”

He tugged at her ponytail. “You look good to me.” That odd stare was gone, replaced by mischief. “But then, I was raised on a ranch.”

Her brows snapped together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re so easy to needle, Queenie. Jenna’s way tougher to ruffle than you. You must not have any brothers.” He relented. “I only meant that I’m not much for painted women. Glamour doesn’t impress me. I prefer the authentic.” His gaze was warm, and something inside her unfurled. “So I found this great Mexican place on South First…”

“Oh, I couldn’t. There’s so much—”

“We have to go see Skeeter anyway, and afterward, we can just stop for a quick bite.”

“I don’t know…” But she wanted to, badly.

“You have to eat, I have to eat. Jenna deserves some time alone. C’mon, Sophie, live a little.”

When was the last time she’d done something just for fun? But at the same time, what price would she pay for stealing a couple of hours?

Her stomach twisted. The hours to the opening were dwindling.

He started to turn away.

She took the leap. “All right. But I need a shower.”

He glanced back. “Me, too. I’ll put up my tools and head over to Jenna’s, then swing round to pick you up. Thirty minutes enough?”

“That would be great.” And scary. And she was going to do it.

This is going to happen
.
Count on it
.

A fling. With a gorgeous man. Who wouldn’t expect more.

Oh, she was indeed counting on everything he’d promised, probably more than she should.

And sooner rather than later.

Cade walked off, and Sophie watched him go, sighing a little, like a teenage girl.

Though the teenage Sophie would never in a million years have had the nerve to imagine herself with someone like Cade MacAllister. But she wasn’t that timid girl anymore. The woman she was now made her own dreams come true.

CHAPTER NINE

“I’
M
TELLING
YOU
HE
wants to be called Skeeter. Surely you can see that—unless you’re willfully being blind.” Cade glanced over from the driver’s seat as he drove them toward the little Tex-Mex café.

“Please. Skeeter is for some coonhound, not a handsome fellow like my Finn.”

“Our Finn—I mean, Skeeter.” When Sophie laughed at his mistake, Cade felt like the world just might make some sense after all.

When they’d been seated in the restaurant, Cade ordered margaritas for both of them.

“I shouldn’t,” Sophie protested.

“Can’t, won’t, shouldn’t… You draw up a pretty stiff set of rules for yourself, Queenie.” He nodded at the waiter and sent him on. “You don’t have to drink it. Shoot, I might have both of them.”

“Are you hurting?” She leaned forward in alarm. “I knew you worked too hard today. You expect too much of yourself.”

He glowered at her.

“Sorry, sorry. Don’t know what I was thinking, caring about you or that thick head on your shoulders.”

“Now who’s grumpy?”

“I’ll have you know most people consider me cool, calm and gracious.”

“So it’s only me who brings out the worst in you?”

“Apparently.”

The margaritas arrived, and they placed their orders. Cade took a sip of his. “Nice.” He leaned back. “You should try it, Queenie. How else am I gonna get you naked?”

She glared at him. “When did you turn so jovial? You don’t like people, remember?”

“I like you.”

“No, you only want me naked.” She stuck out her tongue at him then took a sip. “Mmm, that is good.” She took another.

“Careful, Queenie. Those are top-shelf, and you haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“How do you know that?”

Because I pay altogether too much attention to you
. Especially today, when he’d also spent far too much time framing her in a viewfinder—or an imaginary viewfinder, anyway, since he didn’t want to draw attention to himself by getting out his camera. To cover, he shrugged. “Seems to be your pattern. Not a good one, I might add. You’re too thin already.”

“I beg your pardon. It’s simply my body type. You don’t have to like it.”

“Wish I didn’t,” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

“You don’t need me to tell you you’re beautiful.” But from her uncomfortable expression, apparently she did. He leaned closer. “Come on, Soph…what kind of men are you dating?”

She glanced away. “I’m too busy to date.”

“Now, maybe, but what about before?”

“I’ve moved around a lot.”

“So do I, but—”

“Not all of us have a girl in every port.”

“I sure hope not.”

She glared. “Stop being charming. It’s better when you’re overbearing.”

He studied her, color high in her cheeks, her eyes anywhere except on him, but he waited to respond until after the waiter had placed their platters before them. He picked up his fork but watched her take the first bite. “Zane’s the charming one, not me. The rest of us are more serious.” He grinned. “But I’m telling Zane you said I was charming. He won’t believe it.”

“Is it weird?”

“Is what weird?”

“Having the two-time
Sexiest Man Alive
as your brother. Do people ask you about him all the time?” She shook her head. “Probably not. You’re just as famous.”

“Not that many people read photo credits. Zane’s name and face are splattered all over movie screens and magazines. But to answer your question, I don’t even know the guy they write about. Zane’s my kid brother who was a skinny little geek we beat up on to toughen him up.”

“I can’t begin to understand that.”

He shrugged. “It’s what brothers do. We kicked his tormentors’ asses at first, but he had to be able to defend himself. We couldn’t always be around. Diego and Jesse are a lot older, so they were gone from home when Zane hit junior high. So it was up to me, mostly.”

“Yet you get along, all of you, from what Jenna says.”

“Any of us would die for the others. Simple fact.”

“And everyone dotes on Jenna.”

“She likes to think she bosses us all around.” Amusement crossed his features. “Has she made the
I can make my brothers do anything
claim to you yet?”

“Yes, and that worries me. I can’t let Jenna run roughshod over you. I mean, I want those photos you showed me almost more than I want to take my next breath, but I won’t take them for free, and we have to talk about the cost. Those images are priceless. I have to be fair to you, and I can’t possibly afford them if I am.”

He laughed. “Are you an only child?”

His laughter wasn’t unkind, but still… “Yes. Why?” She tried not to feel insulted.

“Sorry. No offense meant. I’m just saying that Jenna is, shall we say, forceful. Some of that is simply her personality, but part of it is the product of too many people who adore her and who have, I must admit, spoiled her in some ways. We’re lucky that she has such a generous heart. She could have been a tyrant, but her nature has always been relentlessly sunny. She was far enough behind the rest of us that it’s almost as if she had six indulgent parents. We’re happy to make her happy, especially since she doesn’t take advantage of that, so yes, we often go along with her schemes, but it’s not because we don’t know how to say no. She’s just…special to us.” He stopped. “Does that make any sense?”

Not to me,
she wanted to say.
The concept was completely foreign to Sophie. She’d been loved as a child, but her parents had been so wrapped up in each other that she’d often felt the odd man out. But instead she said, “I think so.”

“Your parents—when did you lose them? Must have been early to make you so self-reliant.”

She hesitated. She never talked about her early life, but the golden pool of light in which they sat seemed to invite confidences. “I was fifteen when they died in a boating accident.”

“Where did you go then? To your grandparents?”

“No. There wasn’t anyone.”

“No one?” he echoed. “Grandparents? Aunts or uncles?”

She shook her head. “I was put into foster care.”

He looked at her more closely than ever before. “Wow. I can’t imagine. I mean, I haven’t spent much time with my family since I left home, but…” He stared off into the distance. “I always knew they were there. Even if something had happened to my folks—God forbid—Mama Lalita or my dad’s family, someone would have stepped in.”

“Mama Lalita?” What a great name.

“Has Jenna told you that my two older brothers had a different dad? He was Latino, and his mother was like a grandmother to us, growing up. She’s a
curandera
.”

She cocked her head. “A what?”

“A healer. It’s a tradition that dates back to the Aztecs, and it considers the mind and soul to be as integral to healing as the body. Out where my family lives, a lot of people don’t seek the care of doctors—at least they didn’t until my oldest brother Diego and his cardiac surgeon wife, Caroline, set up a medical practice that incorporates both Latino traditions and Western medicine. Diego succeeded Mama Lalita as
curandero
.” He laughed. “As a surgeon who believed the scalpel cures all, Caroline had a hard time of it at first, but…” He shook his head. “Long story. Anyway, I’m sorry. It’s wrong that you were deprived of a family…” He paused, then said, “So is foster care why you didn’t go to college right after high school?”

“I…” She glanced away.

Then she thought of her beautiful hotel and moved her eyes back to him. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She’d made something of herself. “I ran away from foster care, but I was very naive. The streets…” She shook her head. “Not a good place for kids.”

“That’s what Caroline said. You’d have a lot in common.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“She and her two sisters were separated in foster care. She ran away, too, and she had one hell of a hard climb to make it to the top of her field.” His eyes were a soft blue. “You did, too, didn’t you?”

Sophie didn’t like discussing that period of her life. She hadn’t told Jenna anything about Kenny and Sarah. She was all set to gloss over it as usual when she heard herself say, “I met a boy who saved me.”

Cade said nothing, only listened.

“He— I’d been sheltered until my parents died. I was too soft for the streets. He was—” She firmed her lips. “He was one of the kids society gave up on, but he was scrappy. He took me under his wing, even though we were only a year apart in age. He had the street wisdom of someone much older. When I got—” She stopped. She’d never told a soul in her current life about her baby, but for some reason—maybe only to warn Cade off from the intimacy that was growing between them—she realized she wanted to tell him. “I got pregnant.” She waited for him to recoil, but he only sat there patiently. “He was eighteen and I was seventeen. We couldn’t even get married legally until Sarah was a year old.” Instead of the ache that usually accompanied any thought of what she’d lost, she was surprised to feel only tenderness for the kids they had been, children having a child.

She shrugged and continued. “We made a life. It was hard, but we were in love the way only teenagers can be. Not that we remained teenagers for long—Sarah changed all that.” Her eyes did glisten then as she remembered the warm, precious feel of her baby in her arms. Sophie found herself hugging a phantom child to her breast and quickly clasped her hands together, squeezing them tightly between her knees. “Kenny and our daughter were killed in a car crash when Sarah was three.” And she’d been alone again. So alone.

Cade laid his hand on her arm. “I’m sorry.”

Only two words, not dripping with pity but quietly supportive. Sophie surprised herself by not jerking away from his comfort. She felt oddly safe confiding in him. She was a strong and determined woman who would have said she was over her losses, that she’d made a life she was proud of, that she never looked back.

All of those were true.

Yet that life didn’t afford the luxury of having someone to lean on, and suddenly she was blinking back tears she’d thought she would never shed again.

“So you started all over. Again,” he said.

Sophie exhaled and fought for equilibrium. She didn’t want his sympathy. She needed no one’s pity; she was strong enough on her own. Still, her throat clogged. “I don’t really know how I spent the next several months after their death. I…” She bit her lip. “I couldn’t stay in that little house. It wasn’t much—a tiny place in a bad neighborhood, but we’d…” She sniffed and sat up straight as if a rigid spine would make her insides strong, too. Another deep breath. “I went to work, but I had to move, and after a while, I realized that…”

“That you had to start living again.”

Her gaze whipped to his. He understood. “Yes. I didn’t want to live, but somehow I had to.” She glanced away from him, from those deep blue eyes that would weaken her if she wasn’t careful. “I took a good, hard look at my life and realized that I had to get an education if I wasn’t going to be waiting tables for the rest of my days. So I got my high school equivalency certificate and enrolled at the local college. I found the hotel night clerk job, and—” she shrugged “—nothing interesting, really. I just worked. Speaking of which, I have to get back.”

She tensed, fearing he’d want to probe more into her past, but he didn’t push, instead signaling for the check and paying promptly. He rose from the table and drew her with him. “So how did you find those antique pieces you’ve been refinishing?”

She was so relieved he hadn’t asked about the next chapter in her life, she didn’t shy away from the arm he slipped around her waist as they walked to the car. He helped her inside then began driving the short distance to the hotel. “I picked them up all over, but my collection began with the library table I showed you. It came from this amazing woman named Maura Halloran, who’s now the vice president of operations for the hotel chain. She has this gorgeous house in Connecticut, full of furniture she’s collected over the years, and she passed the bug on to me. We met when she was the manager of the hotel in Memphis where I had my first full-time assignment, and she took an interest in me from the first day. She saw something in me I had no idea was there, and when—” Sophie pressed her lips together. “Anyway, she believed in me enough to invest in this hotel.”

When he parked the car, she opened the door and turned. “I can’t let her down. I won’t. And now I have to make up for the lost time, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“No.”

“What?”

“If you’re going to work on furniture, I am, too.”

“No. I can–”

“Do it yourself,” he finished for her. “I know that, but if this Maura person cares about you, I doubt she’d be pleased that you’re stretching yourself to the limit. And if you really don’t want to let her down, staying out of the hospital is a good place to start.”

“You know, I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” she said primly. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. Good night.” She spun away from him.