Designed for Love (Texas Nights) (16 page)

Mac? What about how
she
had handled all this crap with Wurzenbach? Ashton struggled to push up onto her elbows and wrestle her body upright. Although she was successful, she ended up half sitting in Mac’s lap. And his dick poked her in the hip. There was nothing right about this situation. “What do you mean, shitstorm?”

At first, Ashton thought Gigi was in a public place because of the voices filtering toward her. Wait a minute, that wasn’t coming through the phone. People were walking through the woods.
Oh
,
God.
Damn.
Hell.
And any other cuss word she could muster up with this little of her brain working. Ashton hit the fast forward button on her body, but wasn’t much more successful in getting her ass out of the hammock than a raccoon locked inside a trashcan.

A grunt of pain and a breathless “What the hell?” came from behind her as she tipped out of the hammock, landing on one hand and both knees. Her hair rained down into her eyes, so she settled for patting around in the dirt and pine straw for her clothes. She held the phone away from her mouth and stage-whispered, “Get dressed” to Mac.

“Who’s getting dressed?” Gigi’s tone was now both hard and suspicious.

“I said ‘Get ready’ because I know you’re about to give me bad news.” Crap, if they didn’t both get into their clothes, whoever was tramping around out here would get an eyeful.

“Have you seen the online edition of the
National Expose-her?
”

Oh, that sushi was throwing elbows to get up her throat. That was the worst gossip rag in the country. She swallowed, forced calm into her voice. “No, why?”

“Because last night some ambitious little prick of a reporter—and I use that term more loosely than your mother’s last neck job—supposedly caught one Ashton Davenport ripping out the very plants that could halt construction.”

“That’s—”

“They have part of it—the damned ripping—on video.”

“But I never—”

“Where were you last night?”

“Not yanking plants off my own—I mean your—damned land!” Pressure built in her head. Gigi had always been tough, but she’d ultimately been on Ashton’s side in a fight. Now this? “Really, Gigi, is that what you think of me?” Had her accomplishments meant nothing?

“Sweethea—”

“That Ashton, she cares so little about anyone or anything else that she’ll act like a spoiled child. Do anything to get what she wants. Including ignoring laws and destroying the natural landscape.”

“Ash—”

“After all, she never learned that things don’t always go her way, and so she—” Ashton was jerked to her feet, and her head whirled from the sudden increase in altitude.

Mac thrust his face close to hers. “What is going on?”

“Put Michael on the phone,” Gigi demanded.

She shoved it into Mac’s midsection with extra force and knelt down to find her skirt.

“Yes, ma’am?” Mac said.

Silence and furrowed brow on his end.

“Are you sure?”

More silence and tight lips.

“She had nothing to do with it.”

Aw...he was defending her. She moved toward him, about to hug him, but he held her off. Maybe not so sweet.

“How do I know?” His words were low, and he looked Ashton over with a quirked eyebrow.

No.
Nonononono.

“Because she was drunker than Cooter Brown when I scraped her off Dirty Harry’s dance floor and dumped her into bed last night.”

Tension sank its claws into Ashton’s spine. Which was worse—Gigi knowing she was sleeping with her GC or thinking she’d gone back to her partying ways? Ashton lunged for her makeup case. Lipstick. Now. She might not have her underwear on, but she wouldn’t face whatever this was completely unarmed.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of it. Thanks for the heads-up. Bye.” Mac nudged Ashton’s shoulder with the phone, and she looked up at him, still shirtless, jeans on but unbuttoned, hair sleep—and finger-wild. “Whatever you’re doing, do it fast. They’re on their way.”

“It was those guys at Harry’s, wasn’t it?”

“That’s my guess.”

“You think it was because Clyde threatened them or because they really think I’m trying to get around this thing with Wurzenbach by destroying the evidence?”

“Does it matter?”

No, but damage control did. Ashton shimmied into her skirt, smoothed it over her hips.

Mac shrugged into the shirt that was probably still warm from their combined body heat, and suddenly she just wanted to burrow against him. Bury her face in his broad chest and hide. Instead, she took a step back because that was the old Ashton talking.

Then her brain engaged further. Napoleon! He’d been cooped up in the trailer all night. Or at least from midnight on.

She bolted for the door and yanked it open. Napoleon did a flying leap over the steps and didn’t bother to find a bush. He made for the nearest pile of pine straw and peed. And peed. And peed.

Great, not only was her entire project in jeopardy, but now she was an unfit parent.

The second Napoleon finished, she snatched him up and said to Mac, “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To head them off. The last thing either of us needs is speculation about why we both look like we just rolled out of a hammock.”

Chapter Fifteen

Sure enough, when they made it to the lake, it looked as though feral hogs had been digging for truffles.
Ohgodohgodohgod.
Someone had destroyed her beautiful shoreline. And the lily pads were gone. Not one left.

Napoleon yipped, and she slackened her hold, allowing him to tumble into what was left of the foliage. He lifted his leg and let loose on a foot-trampled wildflower.

Picking their way toward her and Mac were Professor Wurzenbach and at least two dozen other people.

“This is more than just the tabloid guys, and these people look serious,” she told Mac, who quickly turned his back on the throng and ripped open the snaps on his shirt. And oh, those muscles looked just as delicious as they’d felt last night. “But if you have some misguided idea that breaking into a Full Monty will save our asses, I’m pretty sure you fell on your head getting out of that hammock.”

Not that Ashton and the women in the group headed their way wouldn’t appreciate the sight of Mac’s chest. However, as a solution to their current situation, it would be like drinking to get past a problem. After the hangover cleared, the obstacle was still there, staring you right in the bloodshot eye.

“Don’t want them to see I buttoned up wrong.”

That had Ashton glancing down at his fly. No, that was buttoned and zipped appropriately.

“What’s our plan?” she asked. Now that they were down here about to meet the unsmiling folks coming their way, she had no idea how to handle them. “Should we go on the offensive or wait to see how bad it is?”

“Fuck if I know.” Mac smoothed his palms over his skull, but it did little to control his hammock head. “Quick, give me a rundown on the little info we have.”

“We know those jackasses last night hung around for a reason.”

“Keep going.”

“We know someone ripped out the plants Wurzenbach is so hot to protect.” The plants. Shoot, she still hadn’t heard back from Todd Hollingsworth about a water plant expert. “I need to make a quick phone call.”

“Now?”

“It’s important.” She fumbled through her contacts and hit dial. No answer. Her recording on his voicemail was rushed and frantic. “Todd, it’s Ashton again. I desperately need the name of that expert you promised me.”

“What expert?” Mac asked.

“Our botanist.” Ashton plastered on her well-isn’t-this-a-coincidence-meeting-this-way smile as Wurzenbach’s group came within earshot. “Good morning, Professor Wurzenbach. I have to say, we didn’t expect you back. And as you can see, work is still suspended until we can bring in a botanist—”

“Until nothing,” he barked. “Willful destruction of an endangered species is a crime, Ms. Davenport. I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt before, but now...now, you’ve gone too far.”

Shirt properly buttoned, Mac stepped around her. “Listen here, Wurz—”

She upped the wattage on her smile and elbowed Mac in the ribs. “Don’t you dare fight my fights for me.” Although she ground each word between her teeth, he obviously understood because he eased aside so she could approach Wurzenbach. “Professor, could you and I step over here—” she motioned to a rock twentyish feet away, “—and discuss what may have happened here?”

He turned to the group behind him and called, “Fan out. See if you can find any trace of the contralto lilies. Be careful not to disturb the areas where plants were taken. We need to preserve the evidence of Ms. Davenport’s perfidy.”

Perfidy?
She mouthed the word at Mac, but all he had for her was a shoulder lift. She was reaching for the professor’s arm when she spotted a flash of dark skin and pink polo shirt just like the one Jessup often wore.
No
,
he would never do this to me.

She caught the professor’s elbow but continued to peer over her shoulder even as she herded him away from his entourage.

“Ms. Davenport,” the professor squawked, “there’s no need to resort to physical violence.”

His words snapped her attention back around to him. Sure enough, she’d dug her nails into the poor man’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He jerked his arm away, shook her off. “I realize your family is both influential and affluent, but if you think you can railroad your way through something of this magnitude...”

She craned to look over his shoulder. “Who are all those people? Who did you bring with you this morning?”

“Students from Southeast State who have a keen interest in their natural environment and want to protect the ecological soundness of this beautiful state.”

“How did you know about—”

“How you took matters into your own hands and destroyed the plants impeding your mad dash for money and notoriety?” He straightened his bush hat, thrust out his chest. “Those honorable young gentlemen from yesterday.”

Honorable, her ass. “They were tabloid reporters. Capable of doing whatever it takes to get the most sensational story possible. Including framing me.”

Wurzenbach scoffed deep in his throat. “Why do something like that when you’re more than capable of ruining things by yourself?”

“I did
not
rip those stupid plants out of the lake.”

“Well, with language like that, it’s more than apparent how you truly feel about the land you’re raping.”

That was it. No one told her she was raping anything and got away with it. He obviously wasn’t buying anything she was telling him. She’d have to take this argument to the masses. Without thinking further, she kicked off one shoe, then the other. She homed in on a huge rock and stalked toward it. And damn, why hadn’t she waited to take off her shoes? Sticks jabbed into her soles, sharp grass blades sliced at her ankles. By the time she made it to the rock, she probably looked as though she was hopping around on hot coals.

She scrambled up the rock’s steep face. Halfway to the top, she lost her footing and slid down, shredding her left shin in the process. She just gritted her teeth and attacked it again. Maybe it hadn’t been her most well-thought-out plan, but it was too late now. She was committed.

By the time she regained her footing atop what she now knew was a woman-eating boulder, Ashton had lost a chunk of shin, broken two nails down to the quick, and by the slightly airy feel behind her, lost the hem of her skirt. She brushed her hands down the fabric and straightened. “Ladies and gentlemen, excuse me,” she called.

No one looked her way. They just continued to mill around, stroking their chins in a vaguely academic way and conferring with one another over clumps of grass and hunks of mud.

Mac stood alone on the outskirts of the activity and looked up at her, a small smile on his face. She had the simultaneous urge to both slap and kiss that smile. But Mac nodded his head in a “You can do this” message. The warmth from their morning cuddle in the hammock spread back over her. He believed she could handle this situation.

Thank God one of us does.

Still, she put two fingers in her mouth and blew, and a shrill whistle streaked out over the crowd. Maybe that bad boy she’d dated in high school wasn’t completely useless after all. He’d been a sloppy kisser but a hell of a whistler. And her father had hated the motorcycle he rode. That alone had made a few less-than-exciting make-out sessions worth it.

For two point seven seconds, she was self-satisfied standing on a rock as though she were the monkey in
The Lion King.
Then she caught sight of that damned pink polo again. All that satisfaction melted like a box of crayons left too long in the sun, turning her momentary warmth into a brown glob of betrayal.

The man wearing that pink shirt was Jessup. And by the way he stood with the younger men and women, it was apparent he was part of this lunatic fringe environmental group.

First Gigi barking at her this morning as though she was some lackey, and now this. Thankfully, she had Mac on her side.

And herself. It was time to stop acting like a spoiled little girl, grow a backbone and inform people exactly what would happen around here. If she waited on others to tell her everything would be okay or pat her on the back, then she’d be waiting the rest of her life.

“Listen up,” she called to the group. “It’s obvious you all care about the environment and I appreciate that. I also know what you’re seeing here today looks bad. Makes it seem as though I care more about finishing this project than I do about the beauty of Lily Lake.”

That stirred up some murmuring below her.

It was do-or-die time. If she couldn’t figure out who’d yanked out those plants, make Wurzenbach back off her project, both she and Mac were SOL. “If your true goal is to protect and preserve nature, then I need your help figuring out who’s responsible for the damage here.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Wurzenbach said.

“I did not tear up a single plant last night.” How could she have when she’d been so busy tearing up that hammock with Mac?

This morning, however, she was jonesing to tear into the professor in a completely different way. Desperation streaked through her. The minutes were clicking down in her head. If Mac couldn’t get the crew back to work within a few days, they would never meet the deadline for Allie and Cameron’s wedding, which was the deadline for the project itself. They’d already eaten up what little cushion they had. “Is anyone here from Shelbyville?”

A couple of hands went up.

“I want you to know that I’m developing Lily Lake to benefit the people in this community.”

“Yeah, like we can afford the kind of houses you’ll build out here.”

“When we eventually sell lots, it’s true that most may be purchased as vacation homes for out-of-towners,” she admitted. “But that weekend tourism will help the local economy. The grocery store, the retail shops, service providers. Everyone. Why would I jeopardize that by destroying something I knew would put me under suspicion?”

“Because you’re one of those outsiders,” a girl called.

Whoever said it hurt more to yank out an arrow than to be shot with one was clearly full of crap. Because that sharp-tipped comment sliced straight through Ashton’s chest. This time, she didn’t try to dial down the haughty, just hit the girl with the iciest stare she could muster. “With or without your help, I will find the person responsible for the plants’ disappearance, along with a sample of those plants so I can fulfill my promise to Professor Wurzenbach to properly identify the lily pads.”

That set people to chatting and milling around again. Which left Ashton on top of a damned rock with no graceful way down. If she took it like a slide, she’d be lucky to have any skirt left and might lose part of a butt cheek. If she tried the backwards climb, she’d likely end up with a concussion.

“Need a hand?”

The sight of Mac standing there with his arms held out to her made her chest seize up. He was still standing here after all this crap. When he hadn’t even wanted to get involved in this project in the first place and the tabloids had probably already raked his name through the mud she’d somehow pushed him into.

She bent her knees, reached out and let herself fall through air to land in his arms. He folded her in the type of warm hug she’d always wanted as a child. A hug that said “It’ll be okay. I know it’s tough now, but you’ve got this. And if you fall, I’ll kiss it and make it better.”

She tightened her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. A million years would be too soon to walk away from this man.

But it wouldn’t be an issue because he’d walk away first. Sooner rather than later if she couldn’t get this project jump-started again. “Thank you,” she mumbled against his skin which smelled of a mix of fresh air, her perfume and Napoleon’s oatmeal shampoo.

“For what?”

“For not telling Gigi the truth.” She burrowed closer. “For putting up with my dog. For sticking with me in all this mess.” As much as she wanted to block out the real world here in Mac’s arms, she couldn’t afford to hide.

“Did you expect me to cut and run?”

She wouldn’t have blamed him. She was a mess. And a long shot. But he acted as if he dealt with crazy projects—crazy people—like this every day. “You’re not a cut-and-run kind of guy.”

His grip on her tightened. It was a quick squeeze, but she hadn’t imagined it. Mac didn’t buy her assessment of him. God, she’d never met a man as steady, as grounded as this one.

An hour ago, she might’ve put Jessup in the running for the Mr. Steady title, but now? Now, she needed to have a little come-to-Jesus meeting with him before she went hunting for the person who had fucked up her already mucked-up project.

Realizing she and Mac been standing here wrapped together like shipwreck survivors, Ashton squirmed out of his hold. Busied herself grabbing her shoes and cramming them on her feet. “I need to get into town and do some damage control. If I can’t find the person who did this, we don’t have a chance in hell of hosting that wedding.” And that was the ultimate goal.

“I can come with you—”

“No.” She pressed a hand against his chest, felt his heartbeat against her palm. Just as steady and strong as the man. “I need to handle a few things myself. Why don’t you take the time to work on your mom’s shop?” At least one of them would be making forward progress. Plus, she had a little cash left over from last night. She picked up her bag and grabbed her wallet for the five twenties. Shoving them into his hand, she said, “I know this doesn’t even make a dent, but maybe it’ll help a little.”

“You might need it.” He tried to push the money back at her, but she clasped her hands behind her.

“I’m fine.” She’d held onto ten for herself. “I’ll stop by later to let you know where we’re at and what I’ve learned.”

He rubbed a hand back and forth along his forehead, further mussing his hammock hair. “I don’t like this, Ash. Someone is actively trying to keep you from finishing this project now.” His eyes went squinty. “What if the good professor decided to try another tactic?”

He scanned the crowd, but Ashton smoothed her palm along his cheek to redirect his attention. “I’ll talk with Wurzenbach again. But whatever he’s done, I honestly don’t believe he’d rip out these plants. He’s sincere about saving something he believes we’re destroying.”