Do Me Right (21 page)

She impaled another pepper and arranged it on a tray. "How should I know?"

"Her suitcase isn't in her room." He grabbed Kristen's arm and turned her around to face him. "Did you say something else to her? Something to make her want to leave?"

"I didn't say anything to her." She shook loose from him. "If she left, I didn't have anything to do with it."

"Except that you upset her, telling her it was her fault I was selling my share of the ranch. Don't you think I'm man enough to make my own decisions?"

She turned away from him again, shoulders hunched. "Not when it's such a stupid decision."

"It's not stupid." He took a deep breath, struggling to stay calm, to force his way past the blinders she wore, to
make
her understand why he'd done the right thing for all of them. "Look--I know you're my sister, but we aren't twins. We aren't alike. We don't think alike. You love this place and this life, but to me it's always felt like I was trying to wear boots that were too small or a shirt that's too tight." He raked his hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "I'm almost thirty years old and I haven't done squat with my life. And you know why? It's because I felt some kind of, I don't know, some kind of
obligation
to keep my hand in here. To try to do what everyone thought I should do-- Mom and Dad and you and Ken and all the people we grew up with who looked at me and saw a rancher's son who would be a rancher, too." He shook his head. "But it never felt right to me. I could never make it fit. So I wasted time on the rodeo circuit, thinking if I waited long enough, things would come together for me. But they haven't."

"Maybe you haven't given ranching enough of a chance," she said. "Maybe if you tried--"

He took her hand in his, silencing her. "No. If I was going to make ranching my life, I would have done so by now. And all the waiting in the world isn't going to change anything or get me anywhere."

Twin worry lines stood out on her forehead. "Why now? It seems so sudden. I can't help thinking Theresa had something to do with your decision."

"All Theresa did was show me that there's no crime in living life the way you want to live it--in being yourself and not worrying that that's going to somehow hurt the people who really love you." He squeezed Kristen's hand in his. "You're always saying you want me to be happy. Well, this is what's going to make me happy. I need this chance to live the kind of life I want to live. I'd like to know you're okay with that, but even if you're not, this is something I have to do."

He saw the struggle reflected in Kristen's eyes as she weighed this ultimatum. She studied him for a long moment, as if searching for some confirmation that this wasn't another of his phases, that he was serious this time. At last she nodded, though her voice still held doubt. "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure."

She slipped her hand from his and straightened her shoulders. "What about Theresa? Where does she fit into all this?"

"I'm not sure. I guess that depends on her." He took a deep breath, trying to control the sudden alarming shakiness in his voice. "I thought when I first met her she'd just be a way to pass the time while I was recovering--a phase, like you said. But she's turned out to mean a lot more to me than that. I--I love her and I hope she feels the same way about me." Saying the words out loud made his heart pound and he folded his arms over his chest, as if he could keep in the combination of fear and giddiness rocketing around inside of him.

Kristen's expression softened. "Oh, Kyle. I had no idea...."

He gave one sharp bark of laughter. "It's wild, isn't it?" He looked around the kitchen. "And now she's gone haring off who knows where. What am I going to do?"

She came and put her arm around him. "You'll go find her and you'll grovel if you have to." She smiled. "Women appreciate that sometimes, you know."

"But what if she doesn't want anything to do with me?"

"Don't borrow trouble." She pushed him away. "Go on now. Go find her. You'll be all right. I promise."

"That's what you always say. Like you know everything."

"Sometimes I do." She smiled. "For instance, I know I haven't given you enough credit before now." She turned back to the tray of peppers. "I'm going to try to change that, but old habits die hard."

"If I can change, you can, too. And I hope Theresa can change a little, too, and let me into her life on a more permanent basis."

"Go. Don't waste any more time."

"That's true. I've wasted enough already." He kissed her cheek. "Thanks."

"But I didn't do anything."

"You listened. And you understood. That's a lot in my book."

"Go!"

"Oh, no! Did something happen with Kyle?" Cherry asked. "Did you two have a fight?"

Maybe it would have been better if they'd had a real knock-down, drag-out battle. Instead they'd left too many things unsaid. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh." Cherry clearly was disappointed not to be getting the inside scoop. Then she brightened. "That's a great dress."

"Yeah," Scott agreed. "I've never seen you in a dress before."

"What's that supposed to mean?" In all the turmoil, she'd forgotten all about what she was wearing. Now she'd never hear the end of it.
The tiger lady changed her leather and denim for a white lace dress? Who does she think she is?
She straightened her shoulders and glared at him. "I can wear a dress if I want to."

He took a step back. "You can wear anything you want. I just meant you look nice, that's all."

"You do look really nice," Cherry said. "White is a great color with your dark hair. That fitted bodice is really flattering, too." She nodded. "You should wear dresses more often."

Just what she needed--fashion advice from a girl whose entire wardrobe looked as if it had been purchased at a rummage sale put on by Gypsies.

She flipped open the appointment book and scowled at it. "What's been going on here while I was gone?"

"Nothing too exciting." Scott looked over her shoulder. "It hasn't been busy, but it's been fairly steady. And hey, we got these." He picked up a stack of bumper stickers from beside the cash register and handed them to her. "Madeline brought them by yesterday."

Save Sixth Street!
the bumper sticker proclaimed.

"The business owners' coalition has been busy," Cherry said. "They held a big press conference and rally yesterday and hope to get some good coverage. They're trying to show that Sixth Street isn't as sleazy as 'Clean' Carter and his bunch have made out."

"Hmph. Good luck with that. I just hope it's not too late. The election is only a couple of weeks away."

"I think that's enough time," Cherry said.

"Maybe." Even if the coalition succeeded in defeating Carter and bringing business back to the area, she wasn't sure she wanted to stay here anymore. Maybe she'd let Scott run the shop while she visited Zach in Chicago. She might even decide to stay in the Windy City, or she could go to New Orleans or even New York. She'd spent her whole life in Austin; maybe it was time she saw more of the world. After all, she didn't have anything or anyone to hold her here. The thought made her stomach hurt.

"I designed a new tat," Scott said. "Want to see?"

"Sure." Anything to avoid more talk about her own screwed-up situation. She summoned a look of interest.

He flipped open a sketchbook and showed her a drawing of a tree branch and a star. "Is that a pecan tree?" she asked.

He grinned. "Exactly."

"Why? Because you're nuts?"

He made a face at her. "No, it's because before they switched to numbering streets, this was Pecan Street."

"And the star is for Austin, the capital," Cherry added.

"Very nice." Theresa nodded. "Where are you going to put it?"

He pointed to his forearm. "Right here. I want to be able to see it all the time."

She glanced at the appointment book again. "There's no one scheduled. I can do it for you right now." Nothing like work to take her mind off her personal problems.

"You can't do that!" Cherry put out her hand as if to physically stop her. "You'll ruin that gorgeous dress."

Theresa glanced down at the dress. "It doesn't matter. I don't plan to ever wear it again." Too many bad memories were tied up in this dress.

"It's still too beautiful to ruin."

"Besides, I kind of wanted Cherry to ink this one." Scott flushed as he cast a sideways look at his co-worker. "I mean, she and I came up with this together."

"That's right." Cherry picked up a pen from the counter, then set it back down. "I mean, we weren't expecting you back or anything." The tips of the girl's ears were as red as her hair.

Some of the fog lifted from Theresa's brain. All the shared glances, the physical closeness and the conspiratorial smiles suddenly made sense. She looked at the two more closely. "I thought you two didn't like each other."

"Why would you think that?" It was Cherry's turn to look defensive.

Scott coughed. "We didn't know each other very well, that's all."

Cherry glanced at him. "Once I figured out the whole playboy thing was just an act, I discovered he wasn't so bad after all."

"Just an act?" Theresa gave him a skeptical look. "All those different women? All the parties?"

He flushed. "Maybe I exaggerated a little bit."

"Uh-huh." She bet there was a hell of a story behind that little confession, but she was too weary to pursue it at the moment.

"So, uh, is it okay if Cherry does this tattoo?"

"Sure. Cherry can do it. I was just offering."

"You look worn out," Cherry said. "Why don't you go on home and get some rest? We can take care of things here."

Scott nodded. "Yeah. We'll hold down the fort while you get some rest."

They both looked at her as though they expected her to keel over at any moment. "When did I turn into an old lady who has to go home and take a nap in the middle of the afternoon?" Besides, the last thing she wanted right now was to be alone. Once there was no one else around to distract her, she was sure her own thoughts would close in and she'd start doubting her decision to run away from Kyle.

Cherry gave her a funny look. "I didn't say you were old--you just seem a little upset."

"I am not upset!" She cringed when she heard the shrillness of her voice. Okay, she needed to get a grip here. She took a deep breath. "I'll be fine. And I don't want to go home. I'll just...go over the accounts or something." Sure. Nothing like a little number crunching to depress her even further. Then again, no sense saving the task for later and risking spoiling a good mood. If she was going to wallow in misery, might as well go whole-hog.

"Theresa?"

She looked up from the computer, and the flash of pain in her eyes wounded him. But then she covered it up with a hard look. She pushed her chair back from the computer and stood. "What are you doing here?"

He walked over and stood at the counter. "I could ask you the same thing. Last I checked, you were supposed to be at a barbecue at my sister's house. Why did you run out of there that way?"

The lines around her mouth tightened. "Kristen's right. I don't belong with that crowd."

"Who says? My friends liked meeting you. They were asking about you."

She looked away from him. "I didn't see any point in hanging around any longer," she mumbled.

"Oh, you didn't? You didn't think there were a few things you and I needed to talk about?"

She glanced toward the tattoo chair where Cherry was inking a design on Scott, the two of them trying to pretend they weren't listening to every word that was said. She looked at Kyle again. "I don't know what to say to you."

He leaned on the counter, tempted to reach out and touch her. Maybe some physical contact would make her realize the connection they had. "Tell me the real reason you ran away."

She looked down at the floor. "You scared me," she said softly, the words clearly a struggle.

"Scared you?" He blinked, confused. "What did I do to scare you?"

Her eyes met his again, her confusion evident. "You said you were giving up your share of the ranch. Why would you do that all of a sudden--give up your home that way?"

He frowned. "I thought you of all people understood that. The ranch is my home, but it's not my future. I realized it was time to let go of it and get on with my life."

She gripped the edge of the counter. "And this had nothing to do with me?"

He moved around the counter to stand in front of her. He couldn't stand having that barrier between them any more than he could bear this misunderstanding dividing them. "It had a lot to do with you, actually."

If he'd expected her to be happy about that news, he'd been wrong. She went pale and her eyes took on a shiny look, as if she was on the verge of tears. "Dammit, what did I say now?" he asked. "That was supposed to be good news."

She shook her head. "I don't want you changing your life because of me." Her eyes met his, her expression desperate. "I don't want that kind of responsibility. Later on, when you realize you've made a mistake, you'll hate me for it."

"Who says I've made a mistake?" Anger pinched at him, but he pushed it away. "Look, I said you had a lot to do with my decision, but I didn't do this for you. I did it for me."

"Then what do I have to do with it?"

Standing here looking at her wasn't enough anymore. He grabbed her hand, holding on. He didn't want her running out on him again--ever. "You are one of the strongest people I know." He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, feeling the fine bones and the softness of her skin. Amazing how such delicacy could conceal such strength. And how her toughness was a front for such a vulnerable spirit. "Life dealt you a tough hand, but you've made the best of it," he continued. "You do your own thing and you don't let other people try to tell you how to live. I watched you and learned that I could do that, too--and I didn't have to be afraid of losing the people I love in the process."

He squeezed her hand and she raised her eyes to meet his. The yearning he saw there matched the feelings he'd been fighting for days now. He kissed her palm and flashed a brief smile. "You made me think, which can be a dangerous thing sometimes, but there you have it. All that thinking helped me figure out what I want to do with my life."

She wet her lips. "And what is it you want to do?"

"I can do better than just tell you. I can show you."

He tugged her toward the door, the bells jangling wildly as he led her outside. Excitement made him hurry until he was half dragging her down the sidewalk after him. He stopped in front of the front window of the Waterloo Tavern. "Take a good look," he said.

She stared at the bar, puzzled. "What am I looking at, exactly?"

"I've decided to buy and run the Waterloo Tavern." He grinned at the building, already imagining the changes he'd make: new awnings, fresh paint on the sign, more advertising to draw the crowds....

"You're going to own a bar?" She shook her head. "I'm still trying to figure out the connection."

"Think about it and you'll see it's perfect. I don't like getting up early and I don't mind staying up late, so the hours are perfect. I'll be right here in the heart of the city, not stuck out in the country. The money I'll get from selling my half of the ranch will give me a good down payment on the bar and leave enough to make a start on my dream house on that land I showed you."

She nodded. "But what if business doesn't pick up on Sixth Street? You could lose everything."

"Are you always such a pessimist?" He put his arm around her. "Listen, when times are bad, what do people do? They drink. And when they're good, they drink, too. So I figure a bar is one of the safer bets around. Not to mention I think this whole 'Clean' Carter campaign is going to backfire on the esteemed council member. This is Austin, Texas, after all. Home to university students, hippies, slackers, politicians, environmentalists and urban cowboys. And every one of those groups likes to party with the best of them. Carter and his bunch don't stand a chance."

She nodded. "You have a point. And the business owners are fighting back now. That will help."

"Exactly. So what do you think of my plan?"

She nodded. "It makes sense."

He'd hoped for a little more enthusiasm. Then again, she'd spent her whole life building up her armor, trying to keep from getting hurt. It would take more than subtle hints to get through to her. "Think you can stand having me right next door?" he asked.

He was rewarded with a small smile. "I think I can stand it."

Okay, time to bring in the big guns. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake here, but he'd promised himself he was through being slow and cautious. That never got a man anywhere in the rodeo arena or in life. Sucking in a deep breath, he dropped to one knee on the sidewalk in front of her.

The stunned look on her face was almost worth making a fool of himself this way. "Wh-what are you doing?" she stammered.

He took both of her hands in his. "The first day I met you, Theresa Jacobs, I knew you were a special woman." He cleared his throat, trying to keep it together long enough to get out the speech he'd rehearsed. "You've taught me things and made me feel things that no other woman could have done. And you made me fall in love with you."

She gasped and tried to pull away, but he held her fast. The rush of tenderness in her eyes kept him from panicking. "I love you, too," she whispered, blinking fast, her lashes glistening with tears she was fighting back.

He squeezed her hands and shifted a little on the sidewalk, trying to ignore the pebble lodged beneath his knee. He had to get through this. "I love you enough that I want you to be a part of my starting over. In fact, I'm not sure I can do it without you to remind me what stubborn really is."

She let out a choked laugh. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"You could take it that way." He grinned. "I had a lot of other fancy words to say, but it's getting uncomfortable down here, so I'll skip to the main question-- Will you marry me?"

She swayed a little, and he wondered if he was going to have to catch her. He hadn't figured her for the swooning type, but what did he know about women, anyway?

Luckily she regained her balance, if not her composure. "Marry? Kyle, I--" She shook her head. "I don't know what to say."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes! Yes, I do." She smiled. "It's crazy, but I really do."

"Then say yes."

"It's such a big step. What if it doesn't--"

He stood and gathered her into his arms, silencing her with a kiss. "We'll be good together," he said softly, brushing the hair back from her forehead. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm never going to do anything to hurt you."

"Promise?" She smiled.

"I promise."

She nodded. "Then yes. Yes, I'll marry you." She covered her mouth with her hand. "I can't believe I said that."

"It took you long enough," he teased.

She looked at him through half-lowered lashes. "You're in trouble now, cowboy. Don't you know I'm stubborn and outspoken and opinionated and known to be a little wild?"

"All the things I like about you most." He lowered his mouth to hers, thinking as he did so of all the kisses they'd share in the years to come. This was the feeling he'd been searching for his whole life--this sense that he was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing, with the person he was supposed to be doing it with.

It felt as though he'd come home. At last.

"Kyle?"

"Hmm?"

"What is that man doing across the street?"

He looked up and spotted the lanky figure with a camera. The photographer smiled and waved. "I think he's taking our picture."

"Oh. I think he might be a reporter."

"Then we'd better give him something good to photograph." He pulled her closer and kissed her again, bending her over backward in an extravagant, romantic gesture. He didn't intend to do anything halfway ever again, and that included loving his impossible, stubborn, sexy, incredible wife.