Crazy for Lovin’ You (2 page)

“Then what?”

“I rode the crest for two or three years until—”

“Until what?” she encouraged.

“I had a couple of injuries,” he said as if it was no big deal.

She decided to mimic his tone and keep it light. “Really? Imagine that. Riding a ton or two of ticked-off bull is hardly more challenging than a merry-go-round at the Texas state fair,” she teased.

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Yeah” was all he said. “All the hits were to my right leg. The third injury was bad. The doc said one more and I might never walk again—at least not on my own two feet.”

The words tugged at her heart in spite of all her warnings to harden it. She knew how much rodeo had meant to him. It was all he'd talked about. “Oh, Mitch, I had no idea. I didn't mean to—”

He held up his hand. “It's okay. I managed to take it in stride,” he said with a grin. “Pardon the pun.”

His smile kicked the butterflies in her stomach into fluttering again. She thought she'd reined them in. Apparently that was something else she'd been wrong about.

“That still leaves out a couple steps—pardon the pun,” she said.

His grin widened. “I went back to school.”

“But your scholarship?”

He shook his head. “I didn't need it then. Not like—”

He stopped, but she knew what he'd almost said. In high school he'd been a poor kid in a foster home until the state turned him loose at eighteen. Then he'd been on his own and needed that scholarship if he wanted a chance at a higher education. That's why she'd been so stunned when he gave it up.

“So you went to college?” She leaned back against the counter and folded her arms over her chest. A large space separated them, but it wasn't enough to blunt the force of his appeal. Or the way he could stir up her emotions without even trying.

“Yeah.” He set his tea on the ceramic tile beside him. “I got my degree in business from UCLA. Then I started R&R Development.”

“I've heard of it,” she said. The only thing she hadn't heard was that he owned it.

“You have?”

She nodded. “I read the business section of the paper every day. Your company has been mentioned a couple of times for projects pending here in Texas. By all accounts it's a company to watch.”

“I'm working on it,” he said. “But I missed the rodeo.”

“Who wouldn't? Everyone should be stomped into the dirt by an angry bull at least once a day.”

She couldn't help laughing and he joined her. Rewind ten years—to before everything had gone wrong. That's how she felt. Putty in his hands. For just an
instant. Just until she shut it down cold. She didn't ever want to go there again. She was through loving men who loved someone else.

“How did you get sucked into volunteering?” she asked.

“That's an interesting choice of words.”

Not really, she wanted to say. He was young, a hunk and a half, so many buckle bunnies, so little time. She wanted to say she knew him, at least she had. Ten years ago he was a loner who didn't play well with others. The high school coaches had courted him for team sports but he'd turned them down flat in favor of bull riding. But she didn't say anything. She just looked at him.

“Okay.” He crossed one booted foot over the other as he continued to lean against the tiled countertop. “Dev Hart called me.”

“Really?”

Dev had a ranch in Destiny and had taken over the stock business from his father. He supplied animals to rodeos all over the country. He and Mitch had rodeoed together in high school. She and Dev were friends.

“Yeah. We've kept in touch. The association was in a real bind when the commissioner resigned. Work and family obligations he said. I don't have those.” He let the sentence hang there. “Dev thought I might be interested in helping out. Since I have business dealings in the area.”

So he wasn't married. All the willpower in the world couldn't prevent her insides from doing the dance of joy. But she got the feeling there was more, a still deeper reason. “And?”

“He put the bite on me. It's no big deal, just temporary. I wouldn't have agreed to a permanent position.”

“Dev must have had some clue that you would even consider doing it.”

“I guess he did.”

“So what was it?”

“He knew rodeo saved my life.”

Mitch wasn't sure what had made him say that, especially when he saw the surprised look on Taylor's face. She tried to hide it, and he found it amazingly appealing that she couldn't.

There was something about being back in Destiny. More specifically back in this room with Taylor Stevens. He'd been telling the truth when he'd said that he'd hardly known her at first. She
had
changed—in all the right places. Her light brown hair was shoulder-length and the layers were streaked with gold highlights. Brown eyes full of spirit and intelligence challenged him. She'd been just a kid the last time he'd seen her. That night—

The longer he stood in this kitchen, back on the Circle S, talking to Jen's little sister, the more he remembered. Feelings washed over him—frustration, yearning, anger that burned into rage and a feeling of helplessness that he rode like a broken-in saddle.

“Saved your life?”

“You know as well as I do that I'm a kid no one wanted.” Not even your sister, he thought. “I could have gone either way.”

“I know your background.”

“That's a polite way of saying my father walked out before I took my first breath on earth and my mother took off with a construction worker when I was ten.”

“I bet no one's used that nickname in a long time.”

“Riffraff?”

Why was she bringing all this up? he thought an
grily. Taylor already knew and he'd spent all his life trying to live that down. Didn't make any damn sense.

“That's the one. It's ancient history,” she said, completely unimpressed.

He almost smiled. “Not to me. It's who I am. But I've come to terms with it.” That was only half a lie. “But back then, bull riding was all I had. I was good at it.”

“You were the only person I knew who was meaner and madder than those bulls.”

He grinned. “Back then I had reason to be. But I learned some important lessons.”

When he didn't elaborate, she said, “Don't keep me in suspense. What did you learn?”

“Don't nod your head unless you mean it.”

“A bull rider's number one rule you used to say.”

“I'm surprised you remember that.”

She lifted one shoulder. “I have a good memory.”

Unlike him, he finished for her. There wasn't much good to remember about that time. Which brought him to his other favorite rule. “I found out there's something more important than that.”

“Which is?” she asked.

“Don't count on anyone but yourself.”

He saw the shadow that crossed her pretty face and wondered about it. But not enough to ask. He wasn't here to get reacquainted. Although he didn't remember that intriguing indentation in her chin. And he couldn't help thinking how much fun it would be to explore.

“I don't think you learned the right lesson,” she said. “Who taught you that?”

“Your sister. Rodeo week. The night I found her having sex with Zach Adams, who just happened to be the overall point winner at the state championships.”

“I
didn't know you'd found out about them like that,” she said, her already big eyes growing wider.

Mitch looked around the kitchen, anywhere but at the shocked expression on Taylor's face. When he finally met her gaze, his irritation dissolved just enough to let a little guilt seep in. He'd wanted to shock her, he realized.
Why?
Because she reminded him of everything he'd worked so hard to forget? Including his shabby background? If that was the case, he'd sunk to a new low. Or was he just living up to Destiny's low expectations? It really didn't matter. The truth was out and he couldn't say he was sorry—except about Taylor. There was something still innocent about her.

But he'd thought her sister was, too, and she'd thrown him over for another guy. Why would Taylor be any different? Not that it mattered. Because he wasn't looking. But something about her appealed to him. For that reason alone he reminded himself to watch out for her.

Still, it was a stretch for him to believe Taylor hadn't known about him finding the lovers in Zach's car. The two sisters had always been thick as thieves. Although he didn't remember much about Taylor, his gut told him she wasn't that good an actress.

“Jen didn't tell you how we broke up?” he asked.

“I didn't know about her and Zach until after they'd eloped.” Her dark eyes were sad and angry at the same time.

He casually lifted one shoulder. “How did your father take it?”

“Better than I expected.”

“So I came in a distant second with father and daughter.”

Her gaze shot to his. “She didn't plan it, Mitch. It just happened. She fell head over heels in love and—”

“And stepped on anyone who stood in her way,” he finished. He didn't care about Jen anymore. Why was he rehashing this? To push Taylor away? There was no need to do that. She was a member of Destiny's founding family and her father had made it clear that he hated Mitch's guts. Or at least the fact that Jen liked him. Taylor probably shared her father's conviction and had a low opinion of him.

“Jen would never have deliberately deceived you.” A shadow clouded her face. “I think it all happened fast and she couldn't bring herself to hurt you. I know my sister. I know how badly she felt.”

“Then it's real hard for me to believe you didn't know about them.”

And didn't tell me, he silently added.

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Is your last name Stevens?”

“No one set out to make a fool of you, Mitch.”

Whether he believed her or not, the fact remained that it happened ten years ago. He hadn't thought about Jen in a long time. What was it about coming back to Destiny that churned everything up again?

“You're right. I apologize.” He rubbed a hand across his neck.

“That first year on the rodeo circuit must have been hard on you,” she said. “Seeing Jen and Zach all the time.”

The last thing he wanted was her pity. “Only because I came in second.” She opened her mouth to say something and he jumped in. “The competition was good for publicity. They milked it for all it was worth.”

“Until Zach was killed.” Her gaze searched his face. “Were you there?”

He shook his head. “I was sitting that one out. A pulled muscle.” But he'd heard. He'd tried to contact Jen. But he'd missed her or she hadn't wanted to talk to him. Either way, it was a long time ago.

“She got her life together and moved forward.” Taylor released a huge sigh. “But they had so little time together. It's so unfair.”

Unfair? No kidding. But he could give lessons in unfair. The woman he'd believed was his had tossed him aside for his rival. Ten years ago, Jen had done what she'd had to. That was that. He'd gotten over her. Only one other time had he taken a chance. Another big mistake. These days he made it a point not to let down his guard for any woman and there was no reason to relax it now.

He glanced around the kitchen, and noted the copper cow trivet just to Taylor's left on the counter. The black-and-white bovine teakettle resting on the cook-top. Feminine touches were everywhere. Homey
touches. Emptiness kicked up inside him like rheumatism on a damp, cold day.

“I learned something else you might want to think about,” he said more sharply than he intended.

“What's that?”

“Life isn't fair. And folks don't much care about fair. They make their minds up and nothing short of an act of God will change it. They pretty much assume the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree. And my family tree didn't have any fruit—except for me. Or roots, either, for that matter. Your dad reminded me of that on a pretty regular basis.”

“I know. But I can tell you're not bitter,” she said, then bit her lip to stifle a smile.

“Of course not.”

The corners of his mouth turned up and the movement felt rusty. He'd forgotten how she could do that, even at fourteen. She was even better now. In just a few words she'd pointed out what an idiot he was making of himself and made him smile at the same time.

“You're right about Dad,” she said. “But it probably wouldn't do any good to say I'm sorry.”

“Nope. It was a long time ago.” He folded his arms over his chest. “It's water under the bridge.”

“Is it?” she asked. “With Jen, too?” She looked like his answer meant a lot to her.

“Yeah. I'm not the same green kid. And you said Jen's moved forward. Now that she's married, probably with a couple kids—”

Taylor shook her head. “There hasn't been anyone else—since Zach.”

“That's hard to believe.”

“As pretty as she is?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer she continued. “She was busy with col
lege and law school, then her career. But I think it's more than that. She's a one-man woman.” There was an edge to her voice, as if she was trying to convince him of the fact.

“Are you a one-man woman, too?”

Her cheeks flooded with color and her gaze lowered to his shirt collar. “We're not talking about me.”

“But we could.”

She shook her head. “No. I'd rather talk about you.”

He nodded. He had nothing to lose by laying his cards on the table. “Okay. After Jen I moved on.”

“I know.” Her gaze didn't quite settle on his. “I still remember the stuff in the media. How did it feel to be on the Most Eligible Cowboy in Texas list? A buckle bunny in every port?”

“I think that's the navy. And don't believe everything you read,” he warned her.

The tension in her body said she wanted to climb back in the saddle and ride that one until she'd gentled it. But he wasn't going there. He was a bachelor, but definitely not eligible. He'd once heard nothing was as bad as your first love gone south. The hurt of it was something you never forgot. Jen was smart, beautiful, socially accepted, the kind of woman a guy like him wasn't supposed to have. And he'd found out he couldn't have her.

“I'm glad Jen's okay. I wish her all the best in her life,” he said. “I don't hold a grudge, Taylor.”

“I'm glad,” she said fervently. “I wish my dad could see you now. What a success you are.”

Would he be such a success if Zach had lived? He liked to think the rivalry made them both better and that he would have beaten Zach Adams. The only thing
he'd ever wanted was to be number one, fair and square. Now he would never know.

“I heard your dad passed away.”

She nodded. “Heart attack. A little over a year ago.”

“I'm sorry.”

She nodded. “He wasn't a hard man. In fact just the opposite.”

“If you say so.”

“He just had trouble showing his feelings. Even with Jen and I. It was his way of building character. But he never missed a school or sporting event. I don't think he disliked rodeo as much as he worried about me participating.”

“You knew him better than I did.”

“You're right. And he would be glad you're so successful.”

“Yeah. And pigs can fly,” he scoffed.

“It's true. In fact, you remind me a lot of him.”

“Them's fightin' words,” he said.

She cocked her head to the side and her eyes twinkled. “Did you just make a joke?”

“If it gets out I'll deny it. And wherever he is, I don't think your dad would take kindly to you comparing me to him. You'll be dodging lightning bolts if you're not careful.”

“Go ahead. Make fun of me. But he wasn't a man to let on that he cared about the people in his life. It was only okay to be openly emotional about the ranch. I think you hide your softer side like that, too.”

“I used to. When I was younger. But I had a lot to prove back then.”

She slid him a speculative, appraising look. “So what does your softer side care about?”

“Like I said—rodeo.” It was safe to care about that.
It was business and only as personal as he cared to get about anything.

“So you're not really back to prove something?” she asked, looking as if she could see something he couldn't.

He shook his head. “I'm here to make sure there are championships. That's all.”

He still wasn't sure why he'd agreed to Dev's suggestion that he fill in as commissioner. He'd meant to say no and the next thing he knew, he'd agreed.

“Obviously you know I'm interested in having it here?”

He nodded. “Dev Hart told me. We've kept in touch. I suppose
you
already know that he took over the stock business from his dad.”

Taylor nodded. “We still feed and take care of some of his rodeo animals.”

“That's right,” he said, feeling as if a video in his head was replaying pictures. More to himself than her he said, “I used to work at the gas station in town to earn the ten bucks a ride your dad charged to let me practice on the bulls. That's how I first met your sister,” he added, then kicked himself.

He thought he'd forgotten all that. Was it the familiar surroundings bringing it all back?

“So what did you and Dev talk about?” she asked, ignoring the personal and turning the conversation back to business.

Fine with him, Mitch thought. He needed to end this stroll down memory lane. “Dev supplies prime stock to local rodeos as well as events all over the country. When I asked him if he had any suggestions for a site to hold the championships, he suggested the Circle S.
I have to admit I was surprised—until I heard about your dad's passing. He wasn't a big rodeo supporter.”

“That's not completely true. He raised stock to sell for the events. He just wasn't happy about me barrel racing. Watching me compete took him away from the ranch.”

He grinned, as a memory flashed into his mind. “You were the quickest little thing I ever saw. Fourteen seconds the last time I saw you ride.”

“I never raced again after that.”

“Why not? You had so much potential.”

“As you said, I didn't have my dad's support.” Her frown said there was more, but she closed up tighter than the chute after the bull got out.

“I'm surprised you remembered my time.”

No more than he was. He'd suppressed almost everything that happened back then. But now memories—about her—were surfacing in spite of himself. She'd been a kid back then. But she was all grown up now. And pretty. Too pretty for his peace of mind.

“Your time was the same as your age,” he said.

“I'm impressed,” she commented, looking anything but. In fact she looked as if she was waiting for the other shoe to fall. “Memory by association. Good technique.”

“Is that flattery?”

“Heaven forbid. Your ego's twice the size of Texas now.”

He laughed, charmed by her straight talk. He'd had enough insincere compliments to last a lifetime. Women came on to him, wanting to hang around for their own selfish reasons. “About the rodeo—”

She leaned back against the counter on the other side of the room. “So Dev told you I'd be interested?”

He nodded. “Said you've got a project in the works and it would help you out.” He'd been real curious when he'd heard that.

“You already know the ranch,” she said nodding. “Why do you have to inspect it?”

A good question. His first instinct had been to look elsewhere. But he owed it to the hardworking rodeo kids to find the best location to showcase their talents.

“My memories of the Circle S are from ten years ago, when I was just a kid. I need to see that you can handle the crowd, the animals. That the facilities are in good shape. There's a lot more to it than putting out the date and time. We have equipment, vendors, supplies, not to mention a budget.”

She smiled. “Spoken like a genuine businessman.”

“If the boot fits—” He shrugged.

Her smile lit up her face like the town square at Christmas. His responding flash of heat took him by surprise. She was so the girl-next-door, kid-sister type. But there was something about her, something different from the sketchy details he remembered.

He studied her more closely. Brown eyes warm and welcoming as expensive brandy looked bigger and more beautiful than he recalled. Her face had softened into a woman's, along with her body. She was still small, but she'd filled out in all the right places. The cotton shirt she wore emphasized the shape and size of her breasts. She wasn't stacked like the groupies who had pursued him on the circuit, but she would fit a man's hands perfectly. She would fit his hands—

He shut the gate on that thought before it had time to form. How she would feel was on a need-to-know basis and he didn't need to know.

But he couldn't stop himself from looking. He con
tinued his assessment to her trim waist in khaki slacks that showed off her slender legs. He couldn't help wondering how she would look in a worn pair of jeans, soft enough to caress her backside like a lover's hand. He would put money on the fact that she could have every guy in a crowd slack-jawed and bug-eyed. Just an impartial, impersonal observation. Nothing more. She was a woman any man would be proud to have by his side.