Follow My Lead (21 page)

He gave her a keen, way too intelligent look. “So it’s for sale or it’s not for sale?”

“Where’s Darla?” Blake said over the microphone.

Darla jerked her attention to Blake and stood up, happy for the escape. A few seconds later, she was on the stage with a microphone in hand.

“We hear you’re going to ride this here cow today,” Blake joked, patting the mechanical bull’s backside.

Darla grinned. “I hear you’re going to ride this here cow.” She patted the metal as he had.

“Oh, no,” he said. “You aren’t using me to get out of this.” He held a hand up to the audience. “Is she folks?” Shouts and cheers followed.

“I’m going to ride because I know how to ride. I hear from a reliable source—” she playfully lowered her voice and whispered into the microphone “—his father, that Blake can’t ride.”

“Thank you, father dearest,” Blake said, waving at Nick in the crowd. “I can always count on you to make me look bad.”

“What are good fathers for?” Nick shouted, to have a roar of laughter follow.

Darla walked up to Blake and gave him a challenging look. “So you can’t ride?”

“Not a mechanical bull,” he said playfully.

The crowd hooted and hollered at that one. Darla looked at the crowd. “Just like a man. Talk big when you can’t deliver.” She grabbed Blake’s hand and slapped the microphone into it and then raised up on her toes to whisper in his ear. “I love you.” Then, before he could respond, she sauntered over to the bull to hop on top.

21

D
ARLA FINISHED HER BULL RIDE
to the cheers of the crowd. She’d been nervous and plenty rusty, but she’d done well enough to suit the audience. Blake was there when she finished, pulling her against him to help her down, and holding her just long enough to whisper into her ear, “I love you, too, and you are too damn sexy for my own good.”

She laughed, enjoying the moment and not letting herself think about the conversation to come later between them. They felt too good, too right. It was going to work out.

Blake raised his microphone and spoke to the crowd. “Darla and I had a bet, ladies and gentlemen. If she got on that bull and conquered it, which I think we all agree she did, I vowed to personally donate to the charity of her choice. And I’m a man of my word. So, Darla, which charity do you want me to send a ten thousand dollar donation to?”

Darla gaped and spoke to him, not the crowd. “Blake. That’s a huge figure. Are you sure?”

“I donate a certain amount of my earnings every year. This time you get to pick where.” He spoke into the microphone again. “And your charity is?”

She covered the microphone with her hand. “My parents’ animal shelter. Is that okay?”

“Sure it is. What’s the name?”

She paused and then spoke into the microphone. “Colorado Angel Rescue.”

“Ten thousand dollars to Colorado Angel Rescue,” he agreed.

Darla reached for the microphone, her hand folding over his. She spoke to the entire room, but looked at him. “Thank you. Really. Thank you so much. It’s a great place that does a lot of good for a lot of animals.” She held back her tears. She tore her gaze from Blake’s, needing to be out of the spotlight before she made a spectacle of herself—and him. She waved at the crowd and headed for the exit.

* * *

B
LAKE WATCHED
D
ARLA DASH AWAY
from him and knew she was upset, though he had no idea why. The one thing he did know, though, was that he wasn’t about to risk her taking off before he could get to her. He quickly announced the next bull rider and headed to the sidelines, where his father was waiting on him.

“I’ll take over,” his father said, leaning in close to add softly, “I’d gamble on her parents being in some kind of financial trouble and she must not have the means yet to take care of them. I think your donation hit a tender spot, son.” His father patted him on the back and headed toward the center ring.

Blake stood there for an instant, shell-shocked as everything came together for him. Darla’s desperation to make the show work. Her declaration about taking care of her parents. Her self-diagnosed irrational worry over losing both jobs. Damn it to hell, if he hadn’t been so busy looking for Lara in Darla, maybe he would have seen Darla for the great person she truly was.

Blake sprinted through the lobby, heading toward the elevators, impatient to get to Darla’s room before she could escape. By the time he was at her door knocking, his heart was in his throat. She either didn’t answer or wouldn’t answer. Or maybe she wasn’t even in her room. She might have left or never really checked in. He pressed his hands and his head against the door, digging out his cell phone to call her.

“I’m here,” she said from behind him.

He turned to find her standing there, the room key in her trembling hand. “I got on the wrong elevator and I…” She started to cry.

He was there in an instant, wrapping her in his arms and quickly ushering her inside to sit on the bed. Blake went down on his knees in front of her.

“What aren’t you telling me, Darla?” he said gently, brushing tears from her eyes. “What is it that you think I can’t handle?”

She inhaled and let it out. “It’s not that you can’t handle it. It’s that you might think I need you to handle it, or that you might think I want something from you because of it. And I don’t. I just need to tell you so it’s not this grinding secret wearing on my nerves. I…I have it handled.”

That one statement stabbed him in the heart all over again. “I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me over this Lara thing, didn’t I?”

“At first, no. At first, I just thought it was too soon to tell you,” she said. “It’s a lot of baggage. I didn’t want that muddling up where we were—or weren’t—headed together. Then, when I was close to telling you, there was the Lara thing, and I thought you might think I had an agenda of some sort. Sometimes I think I should have just told you from the beginning, it wouldn’t have grown into such a big issue.”

“Tell me now.”

She gave a quick nod. “My parents got behind on their bank note for the ranch and they didn’t tell me until it was pretty close to too late. I negotiated a ridiculous payment plan to catch them up and told them I was making enough money to cover it.”

Another lightbulb went off for Blake. “You’re not getting paid well for this show.” She shook her head. “Being on a competing network and having the ability to keep my daytime show and film on set meant compromise. SAG minimum wage with a balloon payment bonus if the studio options me for season two. They have to make that decision before the fifth live show.”

He leaned back on his heels. “Wait. What? SAG freaking minimum wage? Who the
hell
is your agent?”

“That’s not common in this situation?”

“Ah, no.” Blake was furious. “You have to do something about this. I’ll help you.”

Fifteen minutes later Darla had fired her agent and hired Blake’s—a well-known industry profession.

Her new agent guaranteed her a better contract as soon as he could contact the studio.

He set the phone on the bed and settled his hands on Darla’s knees. “Next problem,” Blake said. “How much to catch your parents’ note up completely?”

She shook her head. “No. No, I’m—”

He leaned in and kissed her, his lips pressing hers and lingering before he whispered, “Marry me. Then it’s our money anyway.”

“What?” she blurted, pulling back to stare at him. “Did you…do you…?”

“Yes and yes. And that’s the same answer I hope you give me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silk pouch he’d hidden there for just the right moment. He removed the sapphire diamond ring and showed it to her. “Unique, just like the woman. This isn’t spontaneous, Darla, brought on by some big new revelation. This is planned. This is thought out.
You
are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Will you, Darla James, be my wife?”

“Yes. Yes.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Blake held her tightly. His woman, his wife-to-be. “No more secrets. We’re in this for whatever life throws our way, good or bad, okay?”

“No more secrets,” she promised.

He leaned in and took her hand, staring into the beautiful green eyes he planned to get lost in for an eternity. “Shall we seal this deal officially?”

She laughed. “Oh, yes.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger.

Epilogue

F
OUR MONTHS LATER,
on a beautiful sparkling fall day, Darla and Blake were married in her parents’ Colorado ranch house. They’d been offered money to televise the event, and they’d declined. The media frenzy over their rumored engagement had not only created huge ratings for
Stepping Up,
it had created a media frenzy they didn’t want at their wedding.

Now, with all the guests gone, Darla was still riding cloud nine as she and Blake loaded the SUV they’d rented for the short drive to Aspen for their honeymoon. Watching one of the contestants she’d fought for win the show had been exciting for Darla, especially since the young dancer had scored a role on a new television drama based around a dance team.

Blake slammed the trunk shut. “I think we’re all set.” His cell phone rang and he snatched it from his belt. “It’s our agent.”

Darla leaned against the truck, eager to hear what Jack had to say about their contract negotiations with the studio.

“Hold on,” Blake said to Jack, covering the receiver. “He says our contracts for the next season of
Stepping Up
are in and they look good, but he’s not happy with the terms for the
Blake and Darla Nelson Show
, and he says he doesn’t want to void our individual shows until he has what he wants. He wants to know that we both give him full authority to negotiate while we are gone.”

“Go get ’em, Jack,” Darla replied, settling her hands on her hips. After the man had not only gotten her back-pay but a raise to boot, she trusted him fully. She’d been learning that sometimes giving away control to the right person was just like having it yourself.

Blake uncovered the receiver. “‘Go get ’em’ were her words. I’ll agree with that. But Jack, don’t screw this up.” Blake laughed and hung up.

“He told you he never screws up,” Darla supplied.

“Exactly.”

Darla glanced at the porch where her mother and Blake’s sat talking, both with rescue cats in their laps. Blake slid his arms around her from behind. “Our parents really seem to get along.”

The front door opened and their fathers appeared, their voices in a heated debate. It seemed to have something to do with how to deal with a fence one of the half dozen horses Nick had brought to the ranch kept jumping.

“Well, they do,” Darla said with a chuckle. “I can see why you’d think that.”

“That’s manly love, honey.”

She laughed and hugged him tightly. “How long do you think it will take them to notice that the newlyweds are gone if we leave without saying anything?”

“At least ten minutes.” He glanced at his watch. “Starting now.” They both took off for the truck and hopped in, laughing as they started just one of the many journeys ahead of them.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt of
Just One Night
by Nancy Warren

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1

“
S
ICK LEAVE?”
Rob Klassen yelled, unable to believe what he was hearing from the editor of
World Week,
the international current affairs magazine he’d worked for as a photojournalist for twelve years. “I’m not sick!”

Gary Wallanger pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto his desktop cluttered with Rob’s proof sheets documenting a skirmish in a small town near the Ras Ajdir border between Tunisia and Libya. “What do you suggest I call it? Shot-in-the-ass leave? You damned near got yourself killed. Again.”

Gary didn’t like his people getting too close to the action they were reporting on and his glare was fierce.

Rob put all his weight on his good leg, but even so, the throbbing in his left thigh was hard to ignore. “I was running away as fast as I could.”

“I saw the hospital report. You were running toward the shooter. Bad luck for you. They can tell those things from the entry and exit wounds.” In the uncomfortable silence that followed Rob heard the roar of traffic, honking cabs and sirens on the Manhattan streets far below. He hadn’t counted on Gary finding out the details he’d have rather kept to himself.