The Sticky Cowgirl (Lone Star Sweets, Book 2) (8 page)

Samuel smirked. “If I’ve learned anything from you over the years, it’s that threats don’t work. If it gets out that you know Samantha Dawson’s mother, that you had a falling out with her father, that there’s a personal history, and that she’s caught in the middle? It’ll look like a vendetta. It won’t look good for you, the company, or the new building project. What it looks like for me is of no consequence.” At least within the business community. What it looked like to Samantha would be a completely different thing.

“My dealings with Jock and Marie Dawson are no one’s concern, but mine.” There was no give, no budge. There wasn’t even a hint of emotion in Brandt’s gaze. Samuel shook his head, resignation filling him from the gut up.

“All right.”

“Don’t stick your nose into this, Samuel. I’m warning you.”

“Then fire me, Brandt. Fire me. Replace me. Do what you need to do.” Never mind that Brandt didn’t know all the facts about Samuel’s own involvement with The Sticky Cowgirl.

You can do the right thing here and back off or at least reveal some information that will put you in front of the shit storm that’s possibly headed your way.”“What’s gotten into you? What’s this girl done that you’re hell bent on throwing away everything you’ve worked for on this project?”

Samuel took a breath and kept his face as impassive as he could. “Let’s just say my eyes have been clouded for too long.”

“Now who’s keeping things to himself? No one has to know there’s a personal side in this, inadvertent as it is.”

“You think Jock Dawson won’t tell his daughter there’s more going on here?”

“Nothing more
is
going on.”

“But he doesn’t believe that and neither will she. I’ve talked to her enough to know that she doesn’t believe anything I say.” Until he said their sleeping together couldn’t mean anything. She’d believed that the second the words were out of his mouth. He’d seen the change in her face, the color drain, the hardness set in her eyes. He’d seen that same hardness in her father’s in this very office.

He needed a change of scenery.

“And me talking about my involvement with Marie Dawson so many years ago won’t change any of that. This discussion is over. You can stay or you can go. You can see this through or you can quit. Up to you, but don’t expect any favors from me.”

“No, I learned long ago not to ask for anything from you.”

Brandt nodded once. It was just a small movement, but Samuel had seen it a dozen times since being hired right out of high school. “We’re done here.”

They were done. Samuel couldn’t have said it any better himself. He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point since taking on this project, he’d changed. He’d like to blame it on sleeping with Samantha though knew he couldn’t. The change started before they got to that.

Was it her fight? Her conviction? Was it the fact that she was willing to stand up to him, to them no matter the cost?

Or was it just…her. Her smile, her laugh, her love for her job? Was it her curves, the brightness of her personality, the cowboy boots?

Truth be told, it was everything rolled into one big, sticky mess. He wanted her before they slept together and he wanted even more since. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and even though he’d told himself, told her that they couldn’t get involved, that they couldn’t go through with things on a personal level, he was involved and he wanted to stay involved.

No matter the cost.

Chapter Eight

“You did what?” Samantha was mortified. “Daddy, how could you?” Or was she secretly pleased? Maybe pleased and mortified. What must Samuel think of her now?

“What? I was trying to help you out. Thought that’s what you wanted.”

“It is and I appreciate it, but why did you have to go see them?” After all they’d been through on their own, Samuel probably figured she was feeling the heat and had to send in the big guns. Her father.

“Darlin’, me meeting with them is the only way to find out who you’re up against. You can only tell so much on paper. You have to look in a man’s eyes, listen to his voice. If it’s the company line or the shifting gaze, you know you can’t trust the person.”

Samuel was probably laughing at her. The fundraiser had helped. It had gotten her shop noticed and oddly enough, she had seen a small sales spike in the last week. A couple local magazines had called, the newspaper, and even one of the San Antonio television stations had called to set up an interview. All the publicity was great, she also knew Samuel had been right. It wasn’t nearly enough. She’d hired a lawyer and with her father’s help, she could hire a team of lawyers, if she wanted. She couldn’t fight eminent domain, though. Her business didn’t bring in enough revenue to equal or surpass what a new Worthington building would, even if it did remain fifty percent empty.

The construction from start to finish, the interior decorating, everything that would go into it would be worth much more than what her little bakery could do. The end was coming. She knew that and she was pragmatic enough to see it as business. No matter what, it was all business. No matter what had happened between she and Samuel, it all began as business and would end as business.

Even after her conversation with her father about compromise and belief and her desire for Samuel…

All she wanted to do was get back to her baking without any of this hanging over her head and distracting her. Baking was her happy place and lately, it was just as draining as everything else. Stress was eating away at her and her father’s words  that she was holding on to a place when the memories were just as solid and strong inside her kept eating at her. She hadn’t had a moment of peace or a chance to think.

That her emotions were in a tangle over Samuel didn’t help either. The desire for him. The lust for him. The need for him… How could she want him so much? How could they be in this position in the first place? And how were they supposed to get out of it without someone getting hurt?

Samantha sighed. “I still can’t believe you went to see him, Daddy.”

“Only way to know what we’re dealin’ with,” Jock repeated.

“Did I pass your test, Mr. Dawson?” Samuel inquired, his easy drawl floating over her nerve endings.

When had he snuck in? Samantha dropped her head forward to rest on the counter and moaned. “Oh. God. Please, just take me now.”

“That all depends, young man. You come to tell on me or did Brandt send you to put more pressure on my little girl?”

She knew that even yet pointed tone of voice and glanced up. “Daddy…” she said in warning.

“No, sir. Brandt doesn’t know I’m here. I came to find out what she thought she could accomplish by sending you in to talk to me.”

“
She
didn’t send anyone to see you. Daddy did that all on his own.”

“You don’t have to defend my actions, girl.”

“I know, but I’m trying not to throw you under the bus either.”

“Ms. Dawson?”

Samantha turned her gaze on Samuel. He looked tired. He wasn’t even polished and unwrinkled as he usually was when he came to see her. But he was a sight for sore eyes.

He was her lover and sparks flew between them every time they were within spitting distance. And now he was talking at her, not to her, in a tone that was nothing less than detached and businesslike. He hadn’t used that one since the day she threw flour on him. It hurt and she didn’t like that he could hurt her personally as well as professionally.

She lifted a brow in question, but didn’t say anything. What could she say?

“Regardless of how well intentioned your father is, you can’t win.”

“All’s fair in love and war, so I can try.”

“We’ve got the greater good on our side. I don’t see how —”

“You tell Worthington about my idea?” Jock interrupted. Samantha had almost forgotten her father was still there, forgotten he was witnessing the exchange between her and Samuel. Did he see the chemistry? Did he know she wanted the enemy?

“No, sir, I didn’t.”

A look passed between her father and Samuel that she wasn’t sure how to interpret. “What idea?”

“You should,” Jock responded, completely ignoring her question. “And if he still wants a fight, I’ll put up my ranch to help my daughter out.”

“Mr. Dawson, that’s not going to help. This building will be demolished no matter what. There’s no historical significance to it, we’ve done the studies and the research. Your daughter’s business isn’t as profitable as ours. I’ve told her all this before. Your ranch can’t save it.”

Jock turned his hat between his hands. Samantha knew that assessing look on his face, that slight smile when he knew he had something up his sleeve no one else did. “I see. Do you know how much my property, cattle, dairy, and horses, is worth?” he asked Samuel.

“No, sir.”

Jock nodded. “It’s gonna be a pleasure doin’ business with you, son. You tell Brandt what I suggested he do. It’s not half bad when you think about it. ‘Sides, he already lost one fight to me. He doesn’t want to lose another.” Jock leaned over the counter and kissed Samantha’s scrunched-in-confusion forehead. “You have a good afternoon, darlin’. I need to get back out to the house.” He nodded at Samuel and clapped him on the back. “Mr. Stevenson. Good to see you again.”

Samuel inclined his head. “Mr. Dawson.”

When Jock walked out, Samantha turned her gaze on Samuel. He was standing in the center of her shop, hands in his pockets. “Will you please lock the door?” she asked as calmly as she could.

Several minutes passed, but he finally moved to the door and flipped the lock. “Sam—”

“What was that tone you took with me? And what the hell was that all about?” she interrupted. “What suggestion was my father talking about? What fight? And who is Brandt?” There were a million questions she wanted to ask about the exchange that had taken place between Samuel and her father, but she felt at the moment those were the most pressing ones.

“I… Brandt is my boss.” Samuel said when he turned back to face her. “He’s the CEO of Turner Enterprises. It’s a long story and not relevant.”

“I think it is a bit relevant, but okay, we’ll leave it for now. What fight was he talking about?

“That should probably be discussed with your father.”

“Well, he left. You stayed. So, spill what you know.”

“It isn’t my place.”

“Nope. But you keep showing up.”

“No, not…” Samuel chuckled. “I don’t have the whole story, though it seems it has something to do with your mother choosing your father over Brandt.”

“So my father knows him? Wow.” Samantha took a step, then two, then three. She paced behind the counter, then in front of the counter, followed by a turn around the room. “So, that’s who he was talking about,” she muttered.

“Who, what?”

“Daddy told Jackson that Mama had another suitor, but that she chose Daddy and the ranch. I guess your boss must’ve been the other suitor. Did he know?”

“Did who know?”

Samantha stopped, standing toe to toe with Samuel. “Your boss? Did he know who I was when he decided to buy up the block?”

“No. I’m the one who did the research and I didn’t delve into your family history. It wasn’t important.”

“So, now that he knows? What’s going to happen?”

Resignation filled his eyes. “Nothing has changed. Please, Sam. Take the offer.”

“What was Daddy’s idea?”

“That’s not important either. Brandt will never go for it.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s not a man who’s gotten where he is by changing his mind out of sentiment. He doesn’t deviate off course. He’ll force you out and you won’t get a dime”

“Then he’ll have to force me out.”

“You are so damn stubborn.” Samuel raked a hand through his hair in agitation. Samantha wanted to ease him somehow, but to do that, she’d have to give up her stance and she wasn’t willing to do that.

“I am.”

“I wish I didn’t like it so much.”

“I think it’s kinda funny that you do. Samuel, don’t you have lawyers who can handle this kind of thing so you don’t have to get involved?”

“We do, but Brandt likes to put a face on things.”

“Then why doesn’t he put his face on it?”

“Putting a face on things and getting involved personally are two different things.

“But you’ve gotten personally involved.”

“I have. I didn’t say I was the brightest bulb in the tree.”

“Good thing Christmas is several months away then. I’ll have a chance to switch bulbs,” she responded without missing a beat. She always could give as good as she got.

“Ouch.” Samuel reached for her and she didn’t hesitate in pressing herself against his body. He was warm and solid in the midst of all the turmoil surrounding her. He wasn’t the enemy. He was only the mask the enemy wore. “I might not be so easily replaceable, you know?” He kissed the top of her head, held her tighter. She felt right in his arms. Sparing with him told her he could hold his own, told her he was intelligent, told her he would be good and unyielding with her and with her heart. Fighting with him only made her want him more “I’ve been fired,” he said softly into her hair.

Samantha pushed away from him so she could see his face. “You what?”

“After your father left, Brandt and I had… Well, for lack of a better term, a disagreement. I am now jobless. Might even be homeless too.

“I still don’t understand. Why would a disagreement lead to you not having a job anymore.”

“I stood up for you.”

For all that had passed between them and for the good man she sensed him to be, she hadn’t expected that to be his answer. “Oh.”

“Yeah,
oh
. I wanted answers and he wouldn’t give them. Bottom line? I thought it was wrong to not know the whole story about your mother and Brandt. I saw it as potentially harmful to the company, but…” Samuel shrugged. “You didn’t deserve to be in the middle of some decades old feud.”

“Well, damn.”

“Now what’s wrong?”

“This kinda makes it hard to dislike you much anymore.”

“When did you start disliking me?”

“When you said being with me could be forgotten.”

“I thought we got passed that.”

“We did, sorta, but… I still hear the words in my head” She stepped back into his arms, but didn’t settle against him. “Why would you be homeless too?”

Samuel chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. “You catch on,” he remarked. “Slowly and out of left field, but you catch on. I have a penthouse in the Worthington building.”

“You do? Wow. I bet the view is great.”

“It is, but I don’t imagine Brandt will want me living there if I’m no longer working for him. To him, if I make the choice for you then, I’m out completely with him.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Making a choice?”

“It seems so.”

Her heart thundered and blood roared in her ears before calming to a dull thrum of need and arousal and desire so powerful it made her ache. “I don’t know what to say. I never wanted you to lose your job or your home. I —”

“Don’t you feel sorry for me now?” he interrupted with a quick kiss to her lips.

“A… A little.”

Mouth to mouth, lips rubbing tenderly, and his hands sliding into her hair. “How much is a little?”