Ultimate Texas Bachelor (2 page)

Aware Brad was waiting for her answer, she said, “I'm not here to apply for a job.”

Suspicion hardened the ruggedly handsome features on Brad's face. “Then what are you doing all the way out here?”

Sybil had been right—this man had turned into quite a handful. “I was on my way back from Laramie and heard Lewis had bought a ranch out here. So I thought I would stop by and say hello.”

“And yet you two were never friends,” Brad stated suspiciously.

Lewis glowered at Brad, then turned back to Lainey. “I'm glad you stopped by and I'd be even happier if you'd agree to help me out here. Forget him.” Lewis indicated Brad with a telling glare.

Brad stepped between Lainey and Lewis. He gave Lainey a slow, deliberate once-over that had Lainey's pulse racing before addressing Lewis again. “I'm merely pointing out I think it's mighty peculiar that Lainey here stopped by out of the blue. After what? Some ten years or so?”

“What are you insinuating?” Lainey asked coolly, her soda halfway to her mouth, not sure whether she was angrier with Brad or herself for getting into this predicament. Surely there was an easier story she could have started with to jump-start her career!

Brad flashed her a crocodile smile that didn't begin to reach his battle-hardened eyes. “That Lewis is not what you are in search of.”

 

B
RAD HAD BEEN HOPING
—in direct contradiction to the knot in his gut—that Lainey Carrington's sudden appearance at the Lazy M had been innocent in nature. The look on her face, when he voiced his suspicion, told him it was anything but.

Yet another female he couldn't trust.

Why did that surprise him?

Was it her angelic beauty that had him wanting to believe he could trust her? Her fair, perfect skin and the ripe peach hue blushing across her high, elegant cheeks? The silky cap of neatly arranged honey-blond hair around her oval face? The straightness of her pert, slender nose and the determined set of her feminine chin? Or was it the enticing curve of her bow-shaped lips and the warmth in her long-lashed, forest green eyes? Brad couldn't say for sure what it was that attracted him to her so fiercely. All he knew was that he had been around beautiful women all his life and been chased by more than he could count, but none had stopped him dead in his tracks the way Lainey Wilson Carrington had. None had made his heart stall in his chest, to the point he felt frozen in time. Like this moment was something he would always remember.

Which was maybe why he should continue giving her a hard time. To keep the walls up and prevent himself from succumbing to such cornball sentiment. Brad gave her his kick-butt glare. “I'm still waiting for that explanation.”

“Maybe you should back off,” Lewis said, looking ready to rumble for the first time Brad could remember. That didn't surprise Brad—something about Lainey, some inherent sense of vulnerability, had brought out the knight in him, too, before he had come to his senses.

Lainey turned to Lewis with a reassuring smile. “I don't mind explaining what brought me here.” She drew a breath and turned back to Brad. “I stopped by because I wanted to talk to Lewis about the computer-software video games his company puts out. I heard some of the companies used kids to focus-test new products before they are actually marketed and that Lewis had built a new facility in Laramie for his company, McCabe Computer Games. I wanted to know if it would be possible to have my eight-year-old son, Petey, participate
in a trial of a new computer game. I thought it might be a fun thing for him to do this summer while school is out. But when I arrived and saw the chaos, and realized Lewis was in the process of interviewing household managers, I knew that it wasn't a good time to be stopping by after all.”

Brad's gut told him that as truthful as Lainey was obviously trying to be, she was also leaving out some mighty important parts. The deliberate omissions were what concerned him most. “And you have no interest whatsoever in me,” Brad surmised.

The color on her cheeks deepened self-consciously, even as her chin lifted a challenging notch. “Why on earth would I be interested in you?”

Brad answered her with a lazy shrug. “The same reason everyone else in America is. Because I am the villain du jour.”

Lewis added, “You wouldn't believe how many people—folks the family hasn't heard from in years—have called up, wanting the inside scoop on what happened with Brad on that TV show.”

Lainey flushed and didn't meet Brad's probing gaze. Another sign, Brad thought, that she was nosy as charged.

Lainey defended herself with an indignant toss of her head. “Believe me, I had no idea you were out here, Brad McCabe. Never mind in such a cantankerous mood!”

Not one to take an insult lying down, Brad narrowed his eyes at her. “What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

Lainey glared at him, sipped her drink, and didn't reply.

“I think that's pretty clear.” Lewis stepped between Brad and Lainey. “She's telling you that you're rude.”

Brad wasn't about to apologize for that, darn it all. “I don't want company,” he announced bluntly. Hers or anyone else's.”

Lewis arched his brow. “Fine by me. Then leave. 'Cause I want to talk Lainey into helping me out here.”

Lainey sighed and tore her gaze from Brad's. “I told you, Lewis. I am not in the market for a job as a housekeeper. I need to be at home with my son this summer.”

Lewis was undaunted. “Your son could come to work with you. Test out new games here at the ranch and at my company's new facility in Laramie. He'd have a blast!”

It was all Brad could do not to groan as Lainey hesitated, clearly tempted.

“I'm not asking for much. I just need help getting settled,” Lewis continued persuasively. “All of my stuff unpacked and organized, along with Brad's.”

Lainey tilted her head. “Your moving company should have offered that service.”

“They said they'd unpack it for an extra fee,” Lewis explained. “They also wanted me to tell the workers where to put everything. I couldn't do that because I don't know where it goes. I don't have time to think about stuff like that. Never mind figure out how to get a kitchen put together and all that.”

Lainey looked at Brad as if expecting him to help. “Don't look at me,” he said gruffly. “I've got my hands full trying to get the stable, pastures and barns ready to go.”

Sighing, Lainey turned back to Lewis. “Don't you have a girlfriend who could help you?”

Lewis flushed beet-red and shook his head.

“What about your little sister or your stepmom?” Lainey insisted.

“They both think he should be doing it himself, and they're right,” Brad said. “It's best to be self-sufficient.”

“Spoken like a die-hard bachelor,” she muttered just loud enough for them both to hear.

“The truth is,” Lewis said, “Laurel and Kate probably would help me out, but Brad doesn't want them around right now. 'Cause they ask too many questions. You know…about how he's
feeling
and stuff.”

Brad rubbed his jaw. “I think Lainey Carrington can do without the play-by-play.”

“Well, it's the truth!” Lewis countered.

Brad's temper flared. “Sometimes the truth does not need to be told!”

“Sounds like you have a pretty complicated situation,” Lainey told Lewis sympathetically.

“So will you help me out?” he asked eagerly. “I'll give you one hundred dollars an hour to help me get organized. Because that's what professional organizers charge. At a few weeks—let's say three—that would be twelve thousand dollars, give or take. If you decide you want to cook for us, I'll pay you for that, too.”

To Brad's chagrin, Lainey seemed intrigued.

Lainey blinked. “What were you planning to pay a housekeeper?”

Lewis shrugged. “If she lived in, fifty thousand, with free room and board. Like I said, I'm planning to make the guest house into the housekeeper's quarters.”

Lainey cast a look in the direction Lewis was pointing. Her soft lips pursed thoughtfully. “How much room does it have?”

It was all Brad could do not to groan out loud as his brilliant but clueless brother answered. “Eleven hundred square feet—a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, one and a half baths.”

“She already told you no,” Brad interjected, knowing the last thing he needed was a nosy female underfoot. Lewis would be gone all day. It was Brad who would be here at the ranch, dealing with Lainey one-on-one, running into her every time he turned around!

Lainey scowled at Brad. “Excuse me. I don't believe either of us was talking to you.”

Brad closed the distance between them, not stopping until they were nose to nose. “Well, I
am
talking to you. And let's be serious here.” He paused to let his gaze drift over her in an insulting manner before returning to her green eyes. “A woman like you isn't cut out to live and work on a ranch.” She was clearly pampered and city-chic. She even had pearls
and earrings on. No woman on a ranch wore pearls and earrings and suede shoes with the heels and toes cut out. Plus, she had sensational legs! How was he supposed to get any work done when she was walking around in a skirt, showing them off?

Lainey folded her arms and leaned toward him. “Oh, for heaven's sake!” she scolded him fiercely, oblivious to the way her stance was lifting the soft curves of her breasts. “He isn't asking me to dig ditches!”

Brad frowned, refusing to let the alluring fragrance of her perfume distract him. With difficulty, he kept his gaze away from the fabric stretched across her breasts. He'd already had one glimpse of her shapely form, he didn't need another. “Those hands don't look like they've done any hard labor indoors, either,” he continued.

Lainey released a long-suffering sigh. “I use hand cream,” she explained as if to a moron, then turned back to Lewis, all smug self-confidence. “You say I can bring my son to work with me?”

This time Brad did groan out loud.

Lewis perked up. “Heck, yeah. You can even bunk in the guest cottage if you like. That way the two of you wouldn't have to drive back and forth to—”

“Highland Park.”

Which was, Brad thought, one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Dallas.

“This is the worst idea I've ever heard,” Brad said, figuring the last thing they needed was some small-town-girl-turned-society-mama out here.

Lainey and Lewis turned to Brad. “No one asked you!” they declared in unison.

Lainey said to Lewis, “You understand it would only be for a few weeks?”

Lewis grinned, looking ridiculously slaphappy. “Unless I can talk you and your son into staying on permanently.”

“You don't even know if she can cook!” Brad practically shouted.

Lewis shrugged. “If she doesn't, she can learn. Can't you, Lainey?”

Lainey took a long drink of her soda, then set the can down. “I certainly could. You've got a deal, Lewis. In the meantime, I've got to get back to Highland Park.”

Which still wasn't saying if she did or did not know how to cook, Brad thought. Which in his view was an absolute necessity, since it was a twenty-minute drive to the nearest restaurant and the appeal of frozen dinners, sandwiches and prepackaged food—the only stuff he and his brother were capable of fixing—was already wearing mighty thin.

“But you'll be back?” Lewis asked anxiously.

“Oh, yes. Tomorrow.” Lainey stared at Brad, all stubborn defiance. “First thing.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Lainey stared at her sister-in-law, sure she hadn't heard right.

Bunny Carrington touched a hand to the glossy black chignon at her nape. “Bart and I cannot let you take Petey out to some godforsaken ranch for the next few weeks.”

Bart, Bunny's henpecked attorney-husband, hadn't said anything thus far. But that wasn't surprising to Lainey. According to Lainey's late husband, Bart had traded away his say in most everything when he agreed to marry Bunny and take her last name of Carrington, instead of have her take his.

Like Lainey, Bart's roots were decidedly blue-collar. In marrying Bunny, he had married up. And now, twenty years and a pair of twin girls later, he was still letting Bunny run the show.

Lainey sat down on the edge of the plush, ultra-suede sofa in Bunny and Bart's family room. Through the plate-glass windows, she could see Petey romping in the lagoon-shaped pool with his eighteen-year-old cousins, Becca and Bonnie. Relieved he was not privy to any of this, Lainey stated calmly, “I think you misunderstood me. I wasn't asking your permission.” Any more than she was asking their permission to work as a reporter. “I just wanted you to know where you could contact us.”

Bunny glanced at Bart. He looked troubled, too, but not necessarily in agreement with his wife. Obviously, Bunny wanted Bart to say something.

Finally, the tall gangly man with the perpetually defeated expression on his face, cleared his throat. “I think what Bunny is trying to say here is that some changes may need to be made.”

A chill ran down Lainey's spine. No one had to remind her that thanks to the terms of the trust Chip had set up for Petey, which Bunny oversaw, all of Lainey's finances were controlled by her sister-in-law. Which was another reason why it was so important she start making some money of her own—soon. “What kind of changes?” Lainey asked suspiciously.

“Bunny thinks that it's impractical for you to be incurring such steep mortgage payments every month.”

It hadn't been Lainey's idea to have a ridiculously high mortgage payment every month. Chip was the one who had insisted they purchase a home in Highland Park. Lainey began to relax, ever so slightly. “I'm glad you brought this up,” she said, relieved. “I've been wanting to sell the house. It is much too big for just Petey and me.”

Not only was it an unnecessary expense, but also the home had too many memories of her and Chip. Lainey was finding it impossible to move on, when everywhere she went she saw and felt her late husband's presence. Lainey had loved her husband terribly. She saw Chip's good qualities in Petey every day. But now that she and Petey had gone through the mourning process, it was time to build a new life.

Lainey smiled at her in-laws. “Petey and I would be happy with something much smaller and less expensive. Which is why I've been thinking about relocating back to my hometown of Laramie, Texas.”

Lainey had no family ties there any longer, since both her parents had passed on years ago, but Laramie was still as
friendly and laid-back as ever. When she had driven out there earlier this morning, she had been surprised to discover how much it had felt like home.

Bunny and Bart regarded each other tensely.

“You misunderstand us,” Bunny said finally. “Bart and I want you and Petey to move in here with us.”

 

B
RAD WAS ON HIS WAY OUT
to the barn to begin unloading bundles of PVC pipe from his pickup when a familiar dark green SUV turned into the lane leading to the Lazy M ranch house. The vehicle zipped toward the parking area and stopped just short of the guest house. Seconds later, Lainey Carrington was stepping out of the driver's side.

She was wearing an open-necked hot-pink silk shirt with three-quarter sleeves, a trim black skirt that failed to reach her knees, and open-toed sandals that, like the rest of her outfit, were hardly suited for life on a working cattle ranch. Despite the eye-catching hue of her blouse, her outfit was conservative enough to be worn in a corporate setting. The way it hugged her slender curves was another matter indeed…. Just looking at her made Brad's mouth water.

The knowledge of his own desire made him frown. He had promised himself at the end of the TV show that he was swearing off all women for at least a year. It hadn't been a problem—until now. Unbeknownst to the producers who had hired him for
Bachelor Bliss
, his rep as a bed-hopping ladies' man was a hell of a lot more fiction than fact.

She went up to the ranch house door, rang the bell, pressed it again and again. Finally, she came back down the steps and looked toward the barn, where he was busy unloading the back of his pickup truck.

She got back in her vehicle, drove the short distance to where he was, and got out of her SUV again.

Apparently remembering all too well the way they had parted, Lainey gave Brad a cool glance. “Lewis around?”
she asked, stepping nearer in a drift of remarkably alluring perfume.

“Nope.” Brad lifted one bundle onto his shoulder, then another.

She marched closer yet, her sexy shoes tapping across the blacktopped ranch driveway. She seemed to be spoiling for a fight. Although, not necessarily with him, Brad noted.

“Care to elaborate?” Lainey asked tightly.

“Nope.” Carrying the bundles of pipe, Brad headed for the newly painted beige barn.

She skipped to keep up with his long strides. “Don't be such a—”

Curious as to what she would call him, Brad prompted, “What?”

“Donkey's rear end!”

He grinned. Somehow, he hadn't seen her cussing. At least not out loud. Not that her verbal imagery hadn't done the trick in getting her message across.

Lainey danced across his path, forcing him to detour around her. “Just tell me where he is and I'll leave you alone,” she said.

Grimacing, Brad set the bundles down on the cement floor of the barn with a loud
clank
. Then he straightened to face her. “He went to Laramie, to work at his facility there.”

Her expression fell and she took a step back. Sunlight poured down from the blue Texas sky, illuminating the honey-gold strands of her hair. “How long is he going to be gone?” she asked.

Brad shrugged, noting the flush of color across her cheeks, the mist of perspiration at her temples. “You'd have to ask Lewis, but he usually puts in a twelve-hour day, if not more.” So did Brad.

Frustrated, Lainey raked her teeth across her lower lip. “I really need him here, to tell me where he wants me to get started.”

Determined to be as ornery as possible, in hopes she would get ticked off and leave, Brad tipped back the brim of his hat and regarded her with an indifferent gaze. “You'll have to take that up with him.”

To his disappointment, Lainey looked undeterred. “I guess I could go ahead and move my stuff into the guest house.”

Brad looked back at the SUV. The rear seat was down and it looked packed to the gills with stuff. Even the front passenger seat was heaped with belongings. Brad frowned. “Where's your son?” Not that it mattered to him, but the other day, Lainey had sounded like her son Petey was a very important part of her life.

“Obviously, he's not with me today.”

She didn't look happy about that. Which made Brad ask before he could stop himself, “Everything okay?”

Lainey folded her arms in front of her. “You really care?” she asked.

He shouldn't, Brad knew. Not if he was going to keep his distance from the lovely blonde.

“That's what I thought.”

Suddenly, she looked near tears. Brad, who had never been much good in the comforting-others department, had an insane urge to take her in his arms. Instead, he remarked, even more matter-of-factly, “If you want to go around looking like you lost your best friend, that's your business.”

Lainey swallowed hard, her eyes moistening. “How about if I go around looking like I am losing my only child, then?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” Lainey sighed and shoved her hands through her hair. “It's none of your business anyway.”

“True enough.” Brad was silent. What was going on here? It wasn't like him to get involved in anyone else's private business. He had enough trouble managing his own. “Still, if you want to talk…” he found himself saying.

Lainey's voice grew turbulent. “He's at the theme parks in central Florida with his two cousins, aunt and uncle.”

“Why didn't you go?”

“Because I wasn't invited.”

Ouch. “That was rude.”

Lainey's slender shoulders stiffened. “I'm sure Bart and Bunny didn't mean anything by it. They thought I needed some time to myself.”

She didn't
look
like she needed time to herself. Brad strode back to the pickup for another load. “When will they be back?”

Lainey remained in the shade of the barn. “The end of the week, which will give me enough time to get settled in and have everything ready for Petey here—so it's probably for the best, anyway.”

She didn't look as if she believed that, Brad noted. Not that it was any of his affair.

“Is the guest house unlocked?” she asked.

Brad dropped the second load of pipe next to the first, then fished in his pocket for the key. He dug it out and handed it over, knowing the reason why Lewis had made himself scarce when Lainey would be moving in. Not that it was up to Brad to deliver the bad news to Lainey. It was her fault. She should have investigated further before taking the short-term job with his brother. “Lewis asked me to give this one to you.”

“Thanks.”

Years of ingrained training had Brad asking, albeit reluctantly, “Need any help unloading your SUV?”

“Nope.” She swung away from him, and walked to her vehicle, spectacular legs flashing in the bright June sunlight. As he watched her go, Brad couldn't help but notice she looked more like a well-to-do suburbanite, out for a day of shopping, than a housekeeper or—what was it Lewis had called it—personal organizer?—about to embark on the massive task of making the Lazy M ranch house livable.

Telling himself to quit thinking about her and concentrate on the installation ahead, he continued unloading his pickup,
laying pipe, sprinkler heads, fans and linear heat sensors on the cement floor of the freshly scrubbed-out barn. He was nearly done when he heard the first scream. Shrill and terrified sounding, it split the air with the intensity of an air-raid siren.

“What the…?” Brad dropped the box in his hand.

Another scream pierced the air, louder and longer than the last.

He took off at a run.

 

L
AINEY WAS STILL SCREAMING
when Brad charged through the open front door and found her crouched, still shaking and scared, atop the kitchen counter.

His expression went from panicked to amused in an instant.

“Look, I know the place is a mess, and you must feel frustrated as hell, but don't you think you're overdoing the drama just a tad?”

Lainey wished that were the case. Not that Brad didn't have a point. Perhaps she shouldn't have yelled like a banshee when she discovered the state of her quarters for the next few weeks.

Unbelievably, the guest cottage was in even worse shape than the Lazy M ranch house. Instead of being crowded with boxes, though, it was heaped with old furniture of various kinds and all sorts of odds and ends. In short, it looked the way many people's attics looked after being neglected a good ten, twenty or thirty years. But that wasn't why she'd been yelling her head off for the past two minutes.

“Follow your nose, cowboy!” She pointed to the source of the foul odor that had prompted her to head for the kitchen in the first place. “And get those…
creatures
out of here!”

“Huh?” His expression perplexed, Brad swaggered through the maze of belongings and stared down at the five exceedingly ugly creatures on the other side of the counter. “Armadillos?”

“Nine-banded armadillos.” Lainey shuddered, not about to
admit how glad she had been to see Brad charging to her rescue. Not that she considered herself a damsel in distress, of course. “A whole family of them.”

Brad braced his hands on his waist. “I can see that.”

“I hope that's all of them, anyway!” Lainey shuddered again. She didn't know what she would do if she found other creatures in the guest house, as well. The four baby armadillos, weighing about five or six pounds each, were backed into the corner of the U-shaped kitchen, toward the sink. The mama—a behemoth the size of a terrier and a lot less friendly—was guarding the only way out.

Brad flashed her a bad-boy smile that was enough to make her stomach drop. “It is.”

“How do you know? You just got here!” She was the one who had been crouching uncomfortably on the kitchen countertop, her skirt hiked up around her thighs, for what seemed like an eternity as she screamed for help.

Brad's glance slid from the floor, to her legs, and then to her face. “Because armadillos always have four identical offspring—every time,” he told her in a husky voice that soon had her tingling all over. “They all come from the same egg, hence they are the same sex.”

She couldn't believe she was talking reproduction with one of the sexiest bachelors alive. “Well then, let's hope Papa Armadillo isn't around here somewhere, too,” she declared.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, unconcerned. “Oh, they never hang around for the birth. He probably took off months ago, shortly after, uh, getting her in the family way.”

She felt herself flush. “Do we really need to be talking about the mating habits of armadillos right now?” she muttered, trying to no avail to bring the hem of her skirt down, just a little. Unfortunately, the fabric was too tight and she lacked maneuvering room.

“You brought it up. What did you do to rile Big Mama up, anyway?”