Texas Hustle (19 page)

Read Texas Hustle Online

Authors: Cynthia D'Alba

Tags: #D’Alba, #Romance, #stalker, #Texas, #older heroine, #younger hero, #Western

BOOK: Texas Hustle
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Darren shifted until he had a better view. “I think so. Is that Jason with her?”

“Damn. Where’s a pair of binoculars when I need them?”

“Sit up.”

Porchia leaned forward, freeing Darren. He leaned over far enough to grab one of the handles on the knapsack and dragged it closer. From the side pocket he pulled a small pair of binoculars.

“I thought we might want them to look at stars,” he said as way of explanation. “But looks like they’ll have another use.”

She put the eyepieces to her face and studied the couple below.

“What are you seeing?”

“They’re talking. Ah. He just touched her face. Oh! She just kissed him.” She lowered the binoculars. “Think they’ll get back together?”

He shrugged. “No idea. They always seemed good together. I don’t think anyone but them knows why they split in the first place.”

It was light enough now to see more than shapes and figures. They could make out individual people even without the magnifying help. At Marc Singer’s truck, Singer and Cash were shaking hands. Lydia had left Jason and was stowing her bag in the back of the truck. The front door of Jason’s cabin opened and Katrina walked out carrying her luggage. After Marc helped her get her bags into the truck’s bed, she climbed into the backseat and closed the door.

“Looks like Katrina’s headed out,” Porchia said.

“Yeah. She was only here for the weekend. She said she had to get back. Something about getting the hospital ready for some big inspection. I thought Jason was going to drive her back, but guess she’s catching a ride with Marc and Lydia.”

“That’ll be one uncomfortable ride.”

“No kidding.”

Porchia settled into Darren’s arms and suppressed the contented sigh that wanted to let itself be known. She was happy and relaxed and scared to death. Her relationships with men did not have a nice story. Looking back, most of her boyfriends had been either dull as dirt or some variation of Slade Madden. After her last relationship ended—when the guy forgot his wallet and she had to pay for dinner…for the fifth time—she’d pretty much given up on the whole future-with-a-man scenario. Plus, she’d begun wondering what was amiss with her. There had to be something wrong since she kept making such bad choices in men.

Then along came Darren. Handsome with chiseled cheeks and blue eyes that sparkled like those stars above. Tall. Dark-haired. A smile that could get just about any female between the ages of three and ninety-three to do his bidding. And the muscles. Lord in heaven. Her back was pressed against a granite slab that most people would think was a chest, but she knew better. There wasn’t an ounce of fat there, just thick-sinew that made her mouth water whenever she felt him shift behind her.

And while she was on the subject of ridiculous muscles that could make a woman do stupid things, the brawny arms wrapped around her waist could not be overlooked. As she thought about them, she lightly stroked his forearms, running the tips of her fingers along the defined edges of all those rock-hard places he’d built up with grueling ranch work.

One of the many things she liked about Darren was his work ethic. He was so proud of the ranch he and Reno had founded. The brothers weren’t afraid of hard work. In fact, she didn’t think Darren was afraid of anything. She wished she had some of his fearless nature when she had to face Slade next week.

“Hungry?”

His question pulled her out of her thoughts.

“You have breakfast with you?”

“Well, I did bring something to go with the coffee.” When he pulled his hand away from her stomach to dig into the knapsack, she immediately missed the warmth.

“Here.” He handed her a sealed package.

She laughed. “Pop-Tarts?”

“It was all we had in the kitchen.”

“Mmm. Brown sugar and cinnamon. My favorite. What did you get?”

“S’mores.”

“You do realize these are called toaster pastries for a reason. Too bad we don’t have a toaster,” she said as she pried the envelope apart. “Unless that’s a magic bag you’re carrying. Can you pull out a toaster?”

“Hmm. Let me look.”

The big production he made of digging through the cavernous knapsack had her chuckling.

“Sorry,” he said. “No toaster. I did find a wine opener but alas, no wine.”

“Wine for breakfast?” she said with an overly dramatic shiver. “I’ll stay with my cold Pop-Tart, thank you.” She took a bite and chased it with coffee. “Not too bad,” she admitted, “but next time, bring a toaster.”

Next time? Would this week lead to other weeks? She knew Darren had a crush on her and had had one for a while. However, once the vacation was over and he’d spent a lot of time with her—in bed and out—she fully expected that his fascination with her would be cured. She was the elusive woman who’d not allowed herself to be caught by the ever-so-desirable Darren Montgomery. Once the chase was done and he’d bagged his quarry, he’d be on to the next one. She, on the other hand, would go back to her solitary life style.

Maybe she should get a cat…or six.

“Ready to go?” he asked. “Sun’s up.”

“Sure. Back to camp?”

“I thought, if you’re interested, we could do more riding and exploring. We have a few hundred acres we can investigate.”

“I would love it.” It’d been a long time since she’d ridden, and she was enjoying the wind in her hair and the magnificent creature beneath her. The major downside was that she’d lose her comfortable back and arm supports.

They gathered up their trash, stowed it in the knapsack with the blanket and started the climb back down to where they’d left their horses.

The jeans, boots and long-sleeve shirt had been barely adequate against the chill of the night air. However, as the sun got higher, the day got brighter and the temperatures rose. So what had been sufficient at five a.m. was getting quite warm by eleven. The outer shirt she’d worn when they’d left was now tied around her waist, leaving her dressed in a tight, skimpy tank. If the looks Darren kept giving her were any indication, he approved.

They rode and talked and explored all morning. By the time they rode back into camp, it was almost noon.

“As soon as we finish getting Oreo and Bandit settled back into the pasture, I want to head for the cabin for some shorts.”

Darren nodded. “Sure. You want to have lunch with the crew?”

“Would you mind terribly if we didn’t? I adore everybody, but I’m tired and a little brain-fuzzy. You may remember that I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He leered. “If you think for one second I’m going to apologize for your, our, lack of sleep, think again.”

She grinned. “Nope. No complaints. What do you think about us doing sandwiches by the pool?”

“Babe. That water is going to be way too cold to swim.”

“What? Swim? No way. But I could get some sun on my legs and rest.”

“Then great idea.”

Once they got to the cabin, Darren followed Porchia into the bedroom. She gathered up shorts and a clean tank to put on and headed for the bathroom.

“Where you going?” he asked.

“Um, to change clothes.”

“Porchia,” he said on a sigh. “I’m pretty sure my tongue has touched every square inch of your body, and you are embarrassed to change clothes in the same room?”

Heat climbed her neck. “I, um, have to do something, um, with my hair.”

He grinned. “God, you’re cute when you blush.”

“I am not blushing.” She made the false proclamation and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed her worst fears. Her face was pink and flushed. Her long hair was ratted and tossed in every direction. Dirt from the trail ringed her neck. If Darren thought for one second that she’d be seen by his family looking like this, he needed to rethink.

She rolled the hot and slightly sweaty jeans down her legs, giving a sigh of relief as the cool bathroom air hit her overheated flesh. The rest of her clothes hit the floor with her boots. She flipped on the shower, adjusted the water temp to tepid and climbed in. The coolish water hit her skin and she gave a little shriek. Still, it felt delicious to wash the sweat and trail grime off her.

Once out, she pulled her wet hair into a ponytail and put on fresh clothes. Being clean again improved her disposition immediately. When she reentered the bedroom, Darren was stretched out on top of the bedspread wearing only his boxers. The vision was a smorgasbord for her eyes. Who needed lunch when this meal was laid out in front of her?

“Well, don’t you look, uh, comfy,” she said.

He grinned, which sent her heart tumbling into her whirling gut. Her mouth actually began to salivate.

“Thought I’d cool off a little while I waited. If you’re done in the bathroom, I can be ready jiffy-quick.”

Like a model demonstrating the latest in automobiles, she waved her hand toward the door. “All yours.”

“Great.” He leapt from the bed, stopped long enough to give her one of his patented toe-curling deep kisses.

After he walked away, she continued to stand there as if she’d been turned to stone. The circuits running from her brain to her legs had obviously been fried by that kiss. Licking her lips, she reminded herself this was just a trial-run-relationship. If she tipped her hand and let him know how much a simple kiss affected her, she was sure his interest would wane.

But simple kiss? Who was she kidding? His kisses were blowtorches of heat and power.

She didn’t want him to find her standing here in a stupor, even if that’s exactly what she was doing. Forcing her legs to move, she went to the front porch swing to wait.

Chapter Fifteen

The lack of sleep, plus the early rising mixed with a postprandial slump and warm sun, tied tiny concrete blocks to Porchia’s eyelids. No matter how much she blinked and pulled them wide, they would shutter closed again. Finally, she leaned the poolside lounge chair back and gave in.

Near her, Darren talked with his brother and Magda. Then his parents came by. She knew there was some discussion about the Florida ranch and the selling price, but Porchia had one foot in dreamland, so her brain processed none of the conversations around her.

The bright sunlight on her eyelids dimmed. Cracking her eyes just a tad, she realized Darren had opened an umbrella over her.

“Hey,” she said. “Thanks. Am I getting burned?”

When he smiled, it was as if the sun hit her face once again. Good Lord, the man had a powerful presence even when he wasn’t trying.

“Not burned, but looked like you were napping. I thought the umbrella would be helpful.”

She stretched her arms over her head. “I think I need a nap. Would you all mind if I headed off?”

“Nope. Head on,” Magda said.

Standing, Porchia put her hand over her mouth as it stretched wide with a yawn. “I’ll catch everyone later.”

“I think an afternoon nap sounds ideal,” Darren said. He released the catch on the umbrella and let it close. “Ready?”

“More than,” she said.

She slipped her hand into the one Darren extended and they started back toward their cabin. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see if anyone had noticed she’d grabbed his hand. Magda flashed her a thumbs up. Darren’s mother gave her two thumbs up. Well, guess their little secret wasn’t much of a secret. For a second, a minor panic attack swept through her. What if she and Darren didn’t work as a couple? Would she alienate her friends and his family?

Darren squeezed her fingers as though reading her thoughts and assuring her that all would be fine. She glanced up at him and grasped his hand a little tighter, loving the feel of fingers rough with calluses and little scars from his ranching life. A little shiver ran through her as she remembered how those magical fingers had petted and stroked her last night.

“You really sleepy?” Darren looked at her with undisguised interest. “If not…”

Something tugged in her gut. “I think you could keep me awake a while longer.”

The responding chuckle made that gut tug even stronger. Shit, she was in deep.

Suddenly, she found herself being hustled across the lawn, not running exactly, but definitely moving her feet like they were walking on hot coals.

When they got to the bottom of their steps, he swept her off her feet into his arms and bounded onto the porch. Her surprised gasp quickly faded to a sigh. Her arms rested on his broad shoulders. She nuzzled her nose into his neck, drawing in his scent.

“Did you just sniff me?” he asked.

“No,” she lied, hoping he’d believe her.

He laughed. “Right.” She loved that he called her on her little fibs. “Grab the door and I promise to be very, very good to you.”

“I was hoping for very, very bad.”

“I can do that too.” When he chuckled, the sound wound its way around her heart.

She hated moving her arm from around his neck, but she did to open the door. He kicked it shut behind them and strode purposely toward the bedroom. As she nibbled on his neck, she loved how his muscles bunched each time her teeth scraped his skin.

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