Crazy for Lovin’ You (10 page)

“Mitch? You're really zoning out tonight. You must really be tired.”

“I guess so.”

“How do you feel about the possibility of staying in Destiny?” She met his gaze and her own was hopeful.

Now's your chance, Rafferty. A golden opportunity to be noble and not hurt her. Be impersonal. He took a deep breath. “I'll do whatever I have to do to make my company a success,” he said carefully.

Her eyes flickered with what might be disappointment, then the look was gone. “No one understands better than me the need to make a success of a business.” She carried the plates into the dining room.

“Do you hear anything from Jen?” he asked.

He'd merely wanted to change the subject, but the look she shot him was anything but casual. In fact, it was a lot like her wounded puppy look, the one he wished he could forget.

“I talk to her almost every day,” she said.

Taylor hoped she hadn't sounded defensive. If so, she couldn't help it. At the mention of her sister's name, she'd almost dropped the plates she was holding. She hadn't been prepared for the question. Mitch hadn't talked about Jen since he'd first arrived. She'd thought…

What? That Mitch cared for
her?
That he wanted her? That the two times he'd kissed her had erased all those years of him wanting her sister? Apparently there was no statute of limitations on stupidity. Where Mitch Rafferty was concerned she was destined to make a fool of herself for the rest of her life.

“How is she?” he asked.

“Who?”

“Jen.” He sat down at a right angle to her and shot her a quizzical look. “Now who's zoning? You must be tired,” he said, using the same words she had.

“I am.” Zoning and tired, but not for the reason he thought.

Since the night he'd seen her in the tub, he'd worn his indifference like a comfortable pair of chaps. No matter how much she might want to, she couldn't blame him for putting her at arm's length. She'd always seen through his prickly exterior to his soft-hearted center. Apparently he was still a nice guy. The kind of man who had been hurt and wasn't about to turn around and do the same to a woman who had experienced heartbreak times two.

He'd kept his distance. A fact for which she was grateful. Really.

Okay. Maybe a time or two she'd wished Mitch would kiss her again. In an instant of spinelessness, she'd wanted just one more moment in his arms. But he hadn't approached her. Their interaction had been friendly, but cool. And that was the devil of it. After her busted engagement, she'd made peace with the fact that she was meant to be alone.

Until Mitch walked back into her life.

Seeing him again had made her wonder “what if.” Sharing a house together had given her a chance to see
what a relationship with him could be like. She'd discovered it was pretty darn nice.

Then out of the blue he'd asked about Jen. And in a single instant, hopes she hadn't even realized she'd harbored popped, poofed and evaporated. Because she suddenly got it.

He hadn't gotten over her sister.

Not in ten years.

What would he say if he knew Jen was coming back for rodeo week? Was she coming because she knew Mitch was here?

Maybe it was for the best that they see each other again. Since he'd returned, she'd had a sense of forces from the past working on the present to make amends. Was she losing her mind? Next thing she knew, she'd start humming the theme from the Twilight Zone. But maybe it was time for Mitch and Jen to get together, the way it should have been ten years ago.

Taylor was fine about it. Only someone truly gifted in the art of idiocy would let her heart be broken by the same man twice. So it was no skin off her nose. Definitely for the best. And when pigs flew, she might almost believe that.

But there was no point in not telling him. “Jen will be here tomorrow.”

“I
t will be good to see her again,” Mitch said evenly.

Taylor watched him carefully for signs that he still cared for her sister. Since she'd recently experienced symptoms of seeing the guy you'd had a thing for ten years ago, she knew what to look for. Shortness of breath, keen interest manifested by a glow inside so powerful that it must be visible on the outside, too, trembling hands, nervous energy, sweaty palms.

He showed none of the above.

But the man had made his fortune riding bulls. He had nerves of steel. Of course he would be able to hide his reaction.

Maybe she could provoke one. “Jen's been busy. A heavy caseload at work. I haven't seen much of her. It will be good to have her here,” she said.

“So you
do
get lonely,” he teased.

“As you've pointed out on several occasions, I do talk to myself, so I guess that's a logical assumption.” She picked up her fork and met his gaze. “But it's not
loneliness in the usual sense. I'm perfectly content on the ranch. But I'm social, too. I can't deny that it's nice to have someone besides myself to talk to.”

He frowned. “How come you never married, Taylor?”

She was still watching him, searching for a signal that he couldn't wait to see Jen again. For the second time he'd caught her off guard with a question. Not to mention that he boomeranged attention from Jen back to herself. Perverse man. What did that mean? Confusion caused her to consider the question for several moments before answering.

“I already told you why,” she finally said. “I was engaged and it didn't work out.” She shrugged. “End of story.”

He shook his head. “There are any number of available guys for a social belle like yourself.”

“Like who?”

“Grady O'Connor for instance.”

“He's got his hands full with twin girls.” She laughed. “He's said more than once the last thing he needs is another female in his life. In fact, the girls picked out a new pup recently at the animal shelter in Destiny and Grady insisted it be a boy.”

“Okay,” he said, but his tone implied he didn't believe that for a second. “Then what about Dev Hart?”

“More than one meddler in town has tried to fix me up with him. Including but not limited to Bonnie Potts and Doc Holloway.”

“I'm not surprised. You two have a lot in common. You could do worse.”

“I could do better. But yagottawanna. And I don't want to.”

“Why? He's not bad looking.”

“You noticed that, did you?” she asked with a grin. She pulled a mantle of teasing and nonchalance around her to cover up the hurt. Was this nice guy Mitch Rafferty? Was he trying to pair her with someone else so it wouldn't hurt like the devil tomorrow when he took up with her sister again?

“I'm on the lookout for
you,
” he answered pointedly, unruffled by her teasing. “He's got money. Nice house. Cute kid. What's not to like?”

“Easy question, not even a challenge. Dev isn't over his ex-wife. I already had a bad experience with a rebound Romeo. Why would I trade a wonderful friendship for a doomed romance with Dev?”

“So you wouldn't be alone.”

“I'm not going there. I found out that if the someone in your life doesn't make it better, then there's something wrong. I'm way past the age where a woman needs a man to feel fulfilled.”

“You're too young to be way past any age.”

“Okay. Then I'm at the if it ain't broke, don't fix it stage.”

“Is that the one where dating is too much trouble?”

“That's the one,” she agreed. “Partly. The engagement fiasco happened because I overlooked the college fiasco—”

“What?” he asked sharply.

She wondered at the intensity of his expression, not to mention the bite in his tone. “It was no big deal. I think every girl runs into a guy like that. If she's smart it's only once.”

“A guy like what?” He encircled her wrist with a steely grip, not hurtful but enough to get her attention. His gaze said he wouldn't put up with evasion.

“Oh, you know the type. He thinks he's God's gift
and a woman should count herself lucky if he condescends to toss her a crumb of attention. But I didn't realize that at first. I cared about him a lot. Right up until he wanted something I wasn't prepared to give.”

“What did he do?” he demanded, slightly increasing the pressure of his grip. Anger sizzled in his blue eyes.

“He got pushy, said he'd waited long enough. I was a tease. And he wouldn't take no for an answer.”

“He didn't—”

She shook her head. “I backed him off with the move you showed me. A well-placed knee, issued in a businesslike way is pretty convincing.”

He looked at her for a moment, then his mouth turned up at the corners into a pleased grin. “It worked?”

“Like a charm.” She returned his smile. “He called me some ugly names, but his gasping soprano took out the sting. And he said I should loosen up if I didn't want to be alone, that guys only want one thing.”

“Son of a b—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “A lot of guys do, Taylor. But not all.”

“What do the others want?”

“Success, stability, a family, friends they can count on. A place to call home. Everyone needs to figure out what it is they're looking for.”

“Have you?”

But she already knew the answer. He'd been looking for ten years and he still wanted Jen.

He shook his head. “I haven't figured that out yet. But when I do, you'll be the first to know.”

She wouldn't have to wait longer than tomorrow, she thought. And one picture was worth a thousand words. He would only have to take one look at Jen. Taylor
would be able to read him like a book. She would know and he wouldn't have to say a single word.

 

The final preparations were underway for the championships that night. Mitch stood by the fence, supervising assembly of the spectator grandstands. A huge tarp had been erected to provide shade from the June sun. Hannah Morgan's medical trailer was in place behind the arena, close by in case it was needed, which he hoped it wouldn't be. A stand to sell refreshments was set up in a convenient location to the activities and viewers. He was counting on folks to come hungry because profits would go to the rodeo association. Beside that, a booth had been erected to market souvenir T-shirts, and programs—another source of revenue that would go to the kids.

Maggie Benson had agreed to man that stall in order to advertise This 'n That, her successful clothing, antique and country crafts shop in downtown Destiny. He'd seen some of her hand-embroidered denim jackets and knew she was a true artist, not to mention pretty cute, which wouldn't hurt sales.

In the distance, he could see the crew working on chalking out a parking area for the friends, family and rodeo supporters who would attend the week's activities. He nodded with satisfaction. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

But this whole complicated production was a walk in the park compared to the monumental chore of putting Taylor out of his mind.

He heard footsteps behind him and his Taylor-radar cranked up, kick-starting his heart. Part of him was pumping his arm and shouting yee-hah; the other part groaned in frustration. How was he going to learn to
treat her like a little sister after he'd kissed her like a lover?

“Hi, Mitch.” She stepped on the first rung of the fence beside him and crossed her arms on the top. She was so close, he could smell her fragrance and knew that she'd used cucumber melon body lotion.

“Hi,” he answered through gritted teeth.

Glancing at him she said, “You look like the seventh dwarf, Grumpy. What's wrong?”

“Not a thing, little T.” He deliberately used Dev's nickname for her. She'd assured him that the stockman was nothing more than her friend. That was almost the same as a big brother. He would imitate Dev to keep her at a distance.

She frowned and the expression on her face said she was puzzled. But all she said was, “Smile when you call me that.”

“How are things up at the house? Guests settled in okay?”

He had arranged for some of the rodeo association's board of directors to stay on the ranch. Not only was it convenient for them, but there were several influential members who could help her operation by word-of-mouth.

She nodded. “The place is full, except my old room. So far I've heard nothing but raves. I think the folks you recommended will really help. Thanks for giving me the business.”

That wasn't the business he wanted to give her, but no way could he tell her that. “I'm glad it's working out. It's the least the board can do. Thanks to you, there's going to be a rodeo for these kids.”

“No, thanks to you. I provided the land. But every invasion needs a general.”

He grinned. “I like that. General Mitch Rafferty.”

“I suspect I'm asking the impossible, but don't let it go to your head.”

“With you around? Not a chance.”

“I'm not going anywhere.” She shot him a challenging look as if to say, are you?

After several moments, she turned to study the preparations in progress. He took the opportunity to memorize the sight of her. Her white straw hat sat squarely on her head, casting a shadow over her face, shielding her from the brutal Texas sun. Most of her hair was tucked up and off her neck, except for the wisps that refused to surrender and danced around her face in the breeze. Her cute little turned-up nose was pink and peeling and sported a hodgepodge of freckles, an occupational hazard of working outside. But with her B&B on the verge of off and running, she would probably split her time indoors and out.

She wore a light blue denim shirt tucked into worn jeans that showed off her curves to mouthwatering perfection. It would be so easy to slip his arm around her slender waist and snuggle her against him. He'd discovered that she fit there perfectly. Now he struggled to forget that fact.

“It's exciting, isn't it?” she asked.

He nodded. “Some of the best memories I've got are from high school rodeo.”

“Hmm,” she said wistfully. “Do you miss the pros, too?”

He nodded. “There's an excitement, an underlying humming that sets every muscle and nerve ending on edge. It's a high that you can't get any other way. That's what I miss most.”

“Even after all this time?” she asked.

“I think it will be with me until I'm a hundred and five.”

“A hundred and five? That's ambitious.” She flashed him a smile that went straight to his heart.

“The spirit is willing, and always will be,” he said. “But the flesh—Well, that's another kettle of fish.”

“Or a horse of a different color,” she commented, giving him a wry look.

He laughed. “A bull of a different shade would be more accurate. I'd like nothing better than to partake of the bone-rattling event. Unfortunately my bones are a lot older now. And I like to think I'm wise enough to protect them from myself.”

“Meaning old age is hot on your heels,” she teased.

“Meaning I'm
almost
content to leave it to the youngsters.” He considered the wistful expression on her face. “What about you, Grandma Moses?”

“What about me?” she asked, slanting him a saucy look.

He recalled how she'd looked when she'd told him why she hadn't rodeoed since the championships ten years ago. At the time, he'd had the feeling that there was more to it than what she'd told him, about her father's lack of support. His recollection of her dad was that he backed his girls in whatever endeavor they chose. If Mitch was right, then Taylor was the one who had decided to quit competing. As much promise as she'd shown, he couldn't help wondering why.

“Do you miss competing?” he asked.

“Some of my best memories are of high school competition,” she answered, parroting what he'd said moments before.

“You were so fast, so skilled, so focused. I don't think I've ever seen a horsewoman with more promise
than you. Why did you quit? And I'm not buying the lame excuse you gave me. Your dad was a rancher. He boarded rodeo stock.”

“That's just business.”

“Okay. But he was also a proud father. I may not know a lot about families or a parent's pride, but I saw the look on his face when you rode. He didn't look like a man who couldn't care less about his daughter's activities. What's the real reason, Taylor?”

She met his gaze with her own shadowed, doubtful look. After mumbling something that sounded a lot like, what harm can it do, she said, “I miss the excitement. I loved the thrill that sang through me when I woke up in the morning on the day of the events. The adrenaline rush as I waited my turn, mentally calculating every move I'd make, was like nothing I've experienced before or since. I enjoyed the challenge of trying to stay loose, to keep my horse loose so I could anticipate any moves he might make.”

He stared at her. “So why did you stop?”

“Jen eloped.”

“What did that have to do with you?”

She shrugged, then squinted across the arena to the preparations in progress. “And you went away. Nothing was the same. I guess the fun went out of it for me.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back to the way things were?”

“All the time,” she said.

“Not me.”

“Why not? You had girls hanging around you three deep. What's not to like?” Then she nodded knowingly, but there was a tension in her body language.
When she met his gaze, her own was shuttered. “This is about Jen.”

Her voice lacked emotion, but somehow he knew that was deliberate.

“Partly,” he admitted. “But my feelings for her ended a long time ago. I put it in the no pain, no gain category.”