A Texas Soldier's Family (11 page)

“Yes.” Seeing Max had, indeed, gone to sleep, she put her laptop on the coffee table, gathered her son into her arms and carried him into the bedroom.

When she returned, she settled on the sofa, removing the pillow she had previously put between them. Looking as weary as he expected her to be, at that time of night, she stretched both long, lissome legs out in front of her and propped her slipper-clad feet on the coffee table. Her head fell to rest against the back of the sofa. Noting how exhausted she seemed, how in need of comforting, he stretched an arm on the sofa behind her, and pulled her closer, into the curve of his body. Sighing blissfully, she rested her head on his shoulder, then she picked up the conversation as if no time had elapsed. “Yes, my parents are proud of my professional success,” she said.

“But...?” he sensed there was more.

Her slender body tensing, Hope snuggled closer. His pulse took another leap at the effortless way their bodies aligned.

Hope sighed. “They didn’t like the fact that I had a baby on my own. Or the fact that I got fired for being involved with a British reporter, after the scandal with the ambassador’s son was resolved. They wish I’d move back to Houston, take a place nearby and raise Max there.”

“I’m guessing that doesn’t fit in with your plans?”

Her expression wistful, she admitted, “I do want him to have family. More than just me.”

He could understand that. It was a lot to raise a child on your own. Still keeping her tucked in the curve of his body, he reached over and took her hand in his. Gratified, her fingers tightened in his. “But...?” he asked, just as softly, guessing there was a caveat.

She gazed down at their clasped hands, said fiercely, “I don’t want him to ever grow up feeling like he is in the way, or somehow less than people who have more money, or feel criticized at every turn, like I did.”

Garrett understood that. He wouldn’t want that for either Hope or Max, either. “Okay, then,” he said gruffly, bringing her closer still, wishing he had the power to make all their dreams come true.

“What
do
you want for you and for Max, ideally?”

* * *

W
HAT
DO
I
WANT
?
Hope thought, her emotions getting the better of her once again.
You in our life.
But aware it was way too soon to say something like that to Garrett, when thus far all they’d had was a tentative friendship and a fling that would likely end when he reenlisted and took the job in DC, she ducked her head and fibbed, “I don’t know.”

Garrett shifted her over onto his lap. Hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face to his so that she could not help but look into the mesmerizing depths of his eyes.

His smile was slow and sensual.

“How about this?” He lowered his head and kissed her in a way that was tender and provocative. Hope’s lips tingled. Lower she felt a burning desire between her thighs. And still he seduced her with his lips and tongue, as if he were on a mission to fulfill her deepest wishes, to provide an intimacy that included everything but commitment and pure romantic love.

She drew back on a long, lust-filled sigh. Doing her best to contain her out-of-control emotions, she said, “I think you know the answer to that.”

She did want to make love with him. Beyond that, she didn’t know. But maybe she didn’t have to think, she realized as he slid his hands to her waist and brought her flush against him.

Maybe she didn’t have to be perfect.

As he had said, he hadn’t hired her, so there was no conflict of interest between the two of them. All he wanted was to make love with her, and all she wanted and needed was to make love with him, too. This time, not as the result of some kind of crisis with Max. Or because they needed to discover if the first time was as good as they thought it had been. But because they were getting closer.

Pretending a great deal more detachment than she felt, she moved off his lap and said breathlessly, “Just to be clear.” Because her legs felt wobbly, she settled on the sofa next to him once again. She turned toward him, so her bent knee nudged his rock-hard thigh. “You know this is still just a fling... That work still takes precedence?”

Was she speaking more to herself or to him? Who was she warning here? Garrett wondered.

His body thrumming with need, he drew her to her feet. He tangled one hand in the spill of Hope’s hair. The other slid down her back, settled against her waist.

“I know we’re headed into forbidden territory,” he whispered roughly against her mouth.

And, as far as that went, it was fine with him. He didn’t care what fibs Hope had to tell herself. As long as they came together like this, found more to life than either had been experiencing. His body igniting, he felt her melt against him.

“I know I want you.” He kissed her again, until her breasts rubbed up against him, as did the rest of her from shoulder to knee. Needing more, he danced her backward to the wall, grinding his hips against hers until the hard ridge of his arousal pressed against the softness between her thighs. She trembled as they kissed. And shuddered even more as he divested her of her shorts and relieved her of her panties.

Her lips softened beneath his and she clung to him, her hands slipping beneath his shirt to caress his shoulders, back, spine. Able to feel how much she needed and wanted him, he opened her blouse and bra, slid between her thighs, pulled both her legs to his waist and set about exploring even more.

Joy pulsed through him. Her head fell back as, eyes closed, she gave herself over to his tender ministrations. And only when she was wet and ready did he step back long enough to drop his trousers and roll on a condom.

She leaned against the wall, their eyes locked, the air between them charged with excitement. She beckoned him close, running her hands over the hard muscles of his thighs, the curve of his buttocks, the small of his back, before coming back around to cup the weight of him in her hot, smooth palms. Stroking, learning, tempting. Fierce pulsing need swept through him as he pressed up against her, lifting her, positioning her as kiss followed kiss, caress followed caress. And still it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

Needing to possess her the way he had never possessed any woman, Garrett wrapped her legs around his waist, and smoothly moved up, in, pushing his erection into her trembling wetness, until they fit together more snugly than he could ever have imagined.

She cried out and fisted her hands in his hair. “More...”

Arching against him, her hands slid down to his hips. Once there, she directed him to move with tantalizing slowness. Then faster, deeper. Filling and retreating. Finding meaning in every breath, every kiss, every sweet, hot caress. Until at last everything merged. Passion and need, tenderness and surrender. She met him wantonly, stroke for stroke. Satisfaction rushed through them, and there was no more fighting the free-falling ecstasy that warmed their hearts and filled their souls.

* * *

G
ARRETT
THOUGHT
THEY
might call it a night and retreat to his bed, to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms until Max woke, needing to be nursed again.

Instead, Hope disengaged herself from him almost immediately and slipped away. When she returned, she was wearing another pair of summery cotton pajamas. Her hair had been pulled back, her makeup washed off.

She was ready for bed, all right, but she couldn’t have been more businesslike as she retrieved her laptop computer. “What was your favorite memory as a kid?”

Garrett strode off to his bedroom. He returned in his own nightwear, a pair of jersey running shorts and an army-issue T-shirt. “Tell me you’re not still working.”

She gave him a look. “You know I am.”

She had warned him.

So why was he surprised?

Aware it was getting harder and harder not to spill his guts to her every time they were together, he went to the kitchen and plucked a crisp apple out of the fruit bowl. “Tell me you’re not going to use any of this in your narrative.”

She watched him take a bite of the sweet, delicious fruit. “Only if you give me permission.”

Their eyes clashed. The closeness they’d felt when they were talking earlier and making love faded.

Garrett strolled closer, persisting, “I get to review everything that pertains to me and my family.”

“Okay,” she agreed from her place at the long plank table.

Garrett took a chair at the end, kitty-corner from her. “When I was a little kid, every once in a while my mom and dad would bring us out to visit my Grandpa Lockhart at his family ranch, the one where my brother Wyatt now lives.”

Briefly, Hope consulted her notes. “The Wind River Ranch.”

“Yes.”

Her head lifted and her green eyes locked on his. “You did a lot of cowboy stuff?”

Exhaling sharply, he found himself wanting to be the stuff of her fantasies. “Yes and no.” Summoned memories came flooding back. “Grandpa Lockhart was career military, so he spent more time showing my brothers and me how to defend ourselves and survive in the wild than how to wrangle a calf. But there was just something about being out in the countryside—small towns, in general. It was so different from Dallas.”

“Sounds like you almost got emotionally attached to a part of the Lone Star State,” she teased.

Garrett kicked back in his chair. “Maybe to all the military lore...it sure made me want to follow in my grandpa’s footsteps. Anyway, Grandpa Lockhart died when I was ten, and my mom and dad sold the Wind River Ranch, the way they had sold my mom’s family ranch, and put the money into expanding Dad’s company. So we never came back until my dad got sick, when they told us they’d been out here, buying property in Laramie County, not just for themselves, but for all of us.”

Hope typed a little more, then paused to look up at him. “It sounds nice.”

He finished chewing another bite of apple. “I guess it was, as far as gestures go.”

Hope rested her chin on her hand. “You think that’s all it was? A gesture?”

He wasn’t sure what she was getting at. “What else could it have been?”

“Chance and Wyatt live here now.”

“Only because they had already been working as cowboys and always wanted to ranch. Zane and I...”

“Are military through and through?”

Two weeks ago, he would have said, yes, he was.

Now...

Now that he’d spent time with Hope, he wasn’t sure what was true.

She went back to typing data into her computer, even more fiercely. Finally, she paused. Narrowed her gaze. Surveyed him, head to toe. As aware as he that he still hadn’t answered her. Mostly because he had no reply to give. Just yet.

“Does this mean you decided not to reenlist and take the slot at Walter Reed in Maryland?”

It means I don’t know. And until I do...

He got up to throw his apple core in the trash, hesitating only long enough to wash his hands and get a drink of water before striding purposefully back to her side.

Decision made, he took her by the hand. Pulled her to her feet. “Enough questions.”

Her breath caught audibly. “Garrett! What...?”

Figuring that the only way he could give either of them any peace at this moment was to make love to her, he wove his hands through her hair, lifted her lips to his. “It’s late,” he told her, kissing her until her knees went weak and she kissed him back just as passionately.

“There’s only one thing we need to do now,” he growled, breathing in the sweet, womanly scent of her and swinging her up into his arms. “And that’s go to bed.”

So they did.

Chapter Eleven

“Since when do you walk around with a baby strapped to your chest?” Chance asked Garrett the following morning.

Garrett adjusted the white sunhat on Max’s head, making sure the infant was shielded from the harmful rays while still able to view all the activity. And there was a lot to see.

In the fields surrounding the ranch buildings, two large tractors were being operated by Tank and one of his rehabbing veteran friends. As the chest-high weeds disappeared, the smell of fresh-mown grass hung in the hot summer air.

“Since Hope only got about two hours of sleep last night,” Garrett replied.

Some of which had been his fault. They had spent a couple of hours, total, making love.

The rest was all on her.

Chance asked sympathetically, “Max giving her a rough time?”

Garrett shook his head. “She was working on a revised written history of the formation of the Lockhart Foundation. Putting together some photos, making plans for the camera crew coming out today and tomorrow.”

“They are everywhere, aren’t they?” Wyatt said, joining them.

Garrett blew out a frustrated breath. “Not to mention constantly underfoot.” Taking both video and still photos of the ranch entrance, the mown and unmown fields, and the barns, corrals and original ranch house.

“And what’s with the ‘staging’ being done in the bunkhouse?” Wyatt asked, not nearly as irritated as Chance to find interior designer/general contractor Molly Griffin there.

Garrett turned so Max could get a better view of the tractors. “Hope wanted some more Texana feel to the main room.”

Chance chuckled. “Well, if that’s the case, I could probably borrow some stuffed animal carcasses for the wall.”

Garrett spared a glance at his younger brother. “I think you know what Hope probably would tell you to do with that suggestion.”

Chance shrugged. “I know what
you
would tell me to do. Hope is a lot more polite.”

So true
.

“Although she can be direct,” Chance said. He turned to Wyatt. “Did she ask you to bring over some horses?”

Wyatt nodded affably. “I said I’d give her one tomorrow morning, before the TV crew arrives.”

“She wanted cattle from me but changed her mind when I said all I had was bulls,” Chance drawled.

The brothers all laughed.

“Has anyone heard? Is Mom coming back tonight?” Chance asked.

“Yes,” Garrett said. “If all goes according to plan. She’s been meeting with the charity CEOs in groups at the foundation office to speed up the delivery of the money. It appears once word got out on the news yesterday, everyone clamored for their money before it all ran out. So at least that part of wrapping up this whole mess will be done with.”

Wyatt frowned. “What about the police?”

Garrett informed them, “Her attorneys are handling that for her. She’ll eventually need to be interviewed by detectives, of course, but that can wait a few days.”

Molly walked out of the bunkhouse. She attached flag holders to two of the front posts, then hung an American flag on one and the state flag of Texas on the other.

Garrett frowned.

So did his brothers.

Paying homage to their homeland was a very good thing. But as a means to an end...?

Temper rising, Garrett eased the baby carrier off his shoulders. He looked at Chance. “Mind walking this little fella around for me for a few minutes?”

Chance shrugged. “As long as he doesn’t mind.”

Because Chance was nearly the same size as Garrett, little adjustment was needed to the Baby Bjorn carrier. The sleepy Max frowned at the transfer, then paused, looking up at Chance.

Chance mugged comically and talked gibberish in a soft, soothing tone.

Max grinned.

Unable to resist, Garrett slapped his brother’s shoulder. “Just so you know—it’s only gas.”

“Ha!” Chance crowed. “He likes me, don’t you, Max?”

Chance and Wyatt walked over to the shade, still doting on the baby. Garrett headed inside the bunkhouse. Hope was on her smartphone, video chatting with his sister Sage. “Thanks so much. I’ll be sure you get all the groceries you need...Yes. Promise. See you tonight.” Hope hung up. Immediately concerned, she asked, “Where’s Max?”

“With Chance and Wyatt. He’s fine.” Garrett gestured to the window.

Hope peered out. Smiled. “For not being used to men, Max sure is adapting easily to this environment.”

Too bad I’m not
, Garrett thought sullenly.

Hope studied him. “What’s wrong?”

* * *

W
HAT
WASN
’
T
?
G
ARRETT
HISSED
out a breath, feeling as if he had been transported back to his youth. “For starters—” he gestured broadly “—all this.”

Her emerald eyes widened. “You don’t like the new vases filled with wildflowers?”

If only it were that simple. “I don’t like false impressions.”

She put her hands on her hips. “We’re just sprucing things up a little bit, doing what Lucille would have done had she been here.”

“You’re making it look like something it’s not. This isn’t the true current state of the Circle H.” Perpetrating another myth would only make the family reputation shakier. And while he couldn’t have cared less what anyone said about him, this stuff did matter to his mother. Garrett strode closer, noting Hope looked exhausted, too. “Any good reporter could find a local resident to complain about the prior state of the ranch. Go on record as saying all this was only done for the TV interview.”

Her chin lifted. “You’d prefer it be filmed looking rundown and unkempt, which is the shape most of the property is in?”

“Why film anything here at all? This is a zone of privacy, or it should be. Why not film in Dallas, at my mother’s home there, or at the foundation offices where things could easily stay just as they are?”

Hope glared at him. “Because all of those places have negative connotations for the viewing public. They support the image of your mother that has been exaggerated and bandied about in the press. None of them show where she came from. Or how she and your father eventually discovered that money didn’t bring them happiness, but giving to others, bringing their whole family back to their roots, did.” Hope came closer. Another shimmer of tension floated between them. “It’s a great story.”

“Then why can’t you just tell it openly and honestly instead of doing all this?” he asked her in frustration. “It’s bad enough that you’re writing advance questions and answers for my mom to rehearse with, and inviting a friendly journalist to cover the story.” He shot her a disapproving look. “Which, by the way, I’m still not totally on board with. Remind me again why it’s so important?”

Hope dug in all the more. “Because I think Lucille’ll be more comfortable if she feels
prepared
rather than under siege.” Clearing her throat, she added, “Of course, there is a way to make this easier on her...”

“Just issue a press statement and leave it at that?”

“No. One step better.”

He waited.

“Your mom could step down as CEO.”

Shock turned to anger that Hope could even suggest it. “Not. Going. To. Happen.”

Her jaw took on the consistency of granite, too. “Have you spoken with Lucille about it—even in theory? Because I have to tell you, it’s the best way to take the heat off her.”

“No. And for the record, I don’t want you or anyone else suggesting it to her, either.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to argue the point. Cheeks pinkening, she stepped closer and, dropping her voice persuasively, tried another path. “Have
you
thought about taking a more active public role in managing the scandal?”

Garrett blinked at her in surprise. She was serious! He flexed his shoulders in an effort to make the increasingly unsettled feeling go away. “Such as...?”

“Heading up a task force?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “A little silly when the foundation only employs three—I guess now, two—people. My mother and her executive assistant, Sharla.”

Hope lifted a delicate hand. “Again. It’s all about optics.”

He leaned over, until they were nose to nose. “And again. I’m not.”

She stared up at him. Shook her head. Sighed. “Substance over style?”

The way she said it made it seem like a character flaw. “You betcha.”

Hope paused again. She seemed to be wrestling with something. Finally, she sighed again, sifted both hands through her soft blond hair and said, “Look, I can see all this is bothering you.”

You think?

“So why don’t you take a break from it. Go off and find a way to relax, do something you like. I can interview your brothers this afternoon, get what we need for the revised family history from them.”

R & R sounded tempting. Leaving her alone with his two very single brothers did not.

Although they had a rule about not going after the same woman, Chance and Wyatt did not know he’d staked a claim where Hope was concerned. Although they had sensed his interest, he couldn’t tell them anything definitively because he had promised Hope he would keep their fling a secret between the two of them.

Although that, too, was a misnomer in his opinion.

“Well?” Hope prodded impatiently.

Garrett snorted. “Not sure you’ll get anything you can use from Chance or Wyatt.”
Except maybe embarrassing stories about yours truly.

“Mmmm.” She considered for a long moment, then met his challenge with a level glance. “I bet I can.” Her gaze softened. “Seriously, your mom and Sage will be back late this evening.”

“Adelaide...?”

“Is staying in Dallas to help the police try and track down her father and Mirabelle Fanning.”

That sounded like Adelaide. Responsible to the core. Which meant this scandal must be killing her, too.

“So you have plenty of time to take a time-out from all of this redecorating chaos, and enjoy what little R & R you have.” She patted his arm. “In the meantime, have a little faith. And trust me to be able to put together a video perspective that does ring true.”

* * *

“T
RUST
ME
”, H
OPE
had said.

Did he?

Personally, Garrett thought, the answer was yes. When it came to anything one-on-one with him, he did trust her. But when it came to her doing her job, it was a different matter entirely.

There, he found it a lot rougher going.

Aware, however, that he couldn’t do anything about that—he hadn’t hired her, couldn’t fire her—he decided to tackle something he could accomplish. Getting the Victorian cleared of all trash so it could be put on the market.

He worked through the rest of the morning and the entire afternoon without taking a break. The physical activity felt good. But not as good as seeing Hope walk through the door at dinner time, a pizza in one hand, a six-pack of flavored water in the other. She walked past him to the window seat overlooking the backyard and set both down. Hands on her hips, she turned around, first scanning the newly cleared-out downstairs, then him. Taking in the fact that he was shirtless, she smiled and quipped, “Too bad I’m not looking for studly actors to star in a soap commercial.”

“Studly?”

She waved an airy hand. “I’ve been around horses all day.”

“Plural?”

She sauntered closer. “Wyatt said since I declined all of Chance’s bulls that he would bring me two horses, instead. They’re really gorgeous, by the way. Your brothers put them in the corral between the bunkhouse and the barns.”

Her hair shone like gold in the sunlight pouring through the windows. He itched to run his hands through it. “I thought the corral was in bad shape.”

Shaking her head, she raked her plump lower lip with her teeth. “Chance brought some cowboys over and they fixed it. Put on a new coat of paint, too.”

It was odd not to have their tiny chaperone. ’Cause right about now, he needed a chaperone to keep from following his base instincts. He put a twist tie on the trash bag he’d been filling. “Where’s Max?”

“Bess Monroe came out to the ranch to film a pro-foundation bit for me, then offered to watch Max while I went off chasing you.”

Was there anyone she couldn’t charm into doing her bidding? “You could have called me on my cell. I would have watched him for you.”

“I needed a break from all the action, too.” She sat on the counter while he washed up as best he could with the hand soap and paper towels the renters had left behind. “Missed a spot.” She pointed to his chin. He gave it a swipe. “Still missed.” She pointed again.

“Third time’s the charm.” He gave it another try.

Eyes darkening, she smiled. “Or maybe not.” She leaned over and did it for him.

He looked down at her. She looked up at him.

He had the feeling she wanted to make love with him as much as he wanted to make love with her.

But, once again, duty called.

She pushed off the counter and walked over to retrieve the roll of paper towels, the pizza and the flavored water. There was no comfortable place to sit inside, so they took everything out to the back porch and settled on the steps that led down to the spacious yard. “I’m guessing you brought me dinner for a reason?” he asked dryly.

She handed him a slice of pepperoni pizza and a paper towel. “I did want to talk to you.”

He uncapped a chilled beverage for them both. Taking a cue from her serious expression, he said, “I’m listening.”

“I had a phone call from your mom a little while ago. She wants to shut down the foundation entirely. And make the announcement tomorrow afternoon.”

Garrett enjoyed a bite of the hot, delicious pizza. “Makes sense, if all the money is gone.”

“Does it?” Hope sighed. “We don’t know for certain that law enforcement
won’t
be able to recover the twenty-five million that was stolen. If they do...”

“In cases like this, it’s always a long shot.”

“But it happens, Garrett.” She helped herself to a slice, too. “We shouldn’t rule that possibility out.”