Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy) (5 page)

“I came home from school the next day,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “and found Dad loading all our stuff on the truck and your grandfather guarding him as if he were going to steal some precious Bull’s Hollow equipment.”

“You know it’s standard procedure for an employee caught stealing from Bull’s Hollow.” Luckily it didn’t happen often. Why no one had told him about the video or why Allie knew nothing of her father’s theft was the question. Gramps would have happily thrown the video in Ben’s face as proof that he wasn’t worthy of the ranch back then. So why hadn’t he?

“But we didn’t steal anything, did we?” she shouted, her eyes glistening through her anger.”

He scrubbed his palms over his face. This was so effed up. Why would his grandfather not tell her what her father had done? “Your father was fired because they caught him stealing several tons of hay off one of the back fields and pocketing the money. Not because of some video of us up at The Hollow.”

“Then they lied to you. Dad never stole anything. He got fired because of me.” She sank onto one of the uncomfortable gray vinyl chairs, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the ranch lay upon them. “And I got reminded of it every goddamned day for the next year.”

Obviously her father had been lying to her too, because Ben had seen the proof her father had been selling hay right off the pasture; the sheriff had statements from the people to whom he’d sold the stolen hay. Damn Pete Daniels for letting his daughter think she was responsible for him losing his job. Damn his grandfather too.

The misery he’d been in after she left paled compared to what she must have suffered. Was still suffering. “I promise. Your father didn’t get fired because of you. No matter what my grandfather or your dad told you.”

But was she telling the truth about the video? He had scanned the area when Logan had first stripped down, but he’d not checked again before they’d seriously fooled around. “Was there any sound? Maybe we’d recognize their voice if they talked while they were filming us.”

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “He had the volume muted.”

Did it really exist? Even if it didn’t, had someone had seen them and reported back to his grandfather. His fingers itched to touch her, comfort her, but he doubted she’d want to be touched by him. Not if she thought he’d helped destroy her reputation. “I don’t know what to say, Al. I would never have asked anyone to videotape us without your approval.”

She laughed, a harsh sound in the hot night. “But you would have videotaped us.”

“You know what I meant.” Geez Louise. “Between you and Logan, I’m starting to think they teach a course at law school on how to twist phrases around.”

Her soft low sigh signaled a defeat he’d never seen from her before. “Sorry. Comes from living with a lawyer as well as being one, I guess.”

“I ain’t your ex.”

I
was prepared to be your husband
,
if you hadn’t...if your father hadn’t
...so many ifs. There was no way in hell he was going to ask about her ex, either. “And I didn’t set you up. I would have gone to Gramps and defended you if I’d known what he’d said about you.”

“I figured you knew.”

Of course she would assume Gramps had told him as well. He scrubbed his hands over his face, then let them drop to his side. “I emailed you dozens of times. I phoned you a lot too. But you never answered.” Which is what made him suspect Gramps was right, that she’d been in on her father’s thefts and used him. At least been a distraction.

“I didn’t see anything you sent me because Dad took my phone away and monitored all my internet activity and phone conversations. Once I left for college, I didn’t want to have anything to do with you, so I set up a filter to dump anything from you straight into the trash.”

Ouch.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt and her jaw did that sticking-out thing it did when she was pissed. “I thought you’d set me up. I loved you, Ben. After what we’d shared that afternoon, can you blame me for not wanting to talk to you again?”

“No.” And though Gramps had made the accusation and driven her away, he wasn’t here to apologize, but Ben was. And he was now head of Bull’s Hollow. Time to man up.

He hunkered on his heels in front of her to put him at eye level. Except she wouldn’t look at him. He crooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted until she met his gaze. Her skin was just as soft as he remembered, and her lips just as full. Only the distress in her eyes was new. At least that was something he could fix. “I can only imagine how much this must have hurt you, and I know words can’t fix what they did, but I’m sorry for everything they did to you.”

“You know, I’ve waited for years to hear an apology, and thank you, but it really doesn’t change anything, does it?” If he hadn’t been holding her chin, he might not have noticed the fine tremor racking her. But he would have noticed the thickness in her voice.

Well, shit on a stick. He let his hand fall. How he could make this right, he had no idea. “What do you want from me? Tell me and I’ll do it.”

She pulled up her shoulders and gathered herself until she once again resembled the confident woman she’d been when she arrived. “I want you to let me do my job. Once I’ve investigated your claim, I’ll head back to Houston to submit my findings to my boss and we can get back to our own lives.”

If she’d been anyone else he’d have been relieved at the matter-of-factness of her tone, the lack of drama or emotion. But this was Allie. Her recitation bugged the shit out of him. She had a right to be mad. He’d have been if he were in her shoes. Except she should have trusted him, known he wouldn’t have hurt her by taping her and letting the video fall into anyone else’s hands. Then again it would be darned hard to trust anyone if a video did exist.

In his own shoes, he was feeling anything but matter-of-fact. Her expensive perfume might be subtle but it enticed him, even as his head knew getting involved with her was dangerous. He leaned in for a sniff and found himself unable to pull away—distracted by her thick red hair bound up in a sleek knot, so close that his fingers itched to pull one of the pins so it tumbled over her shoulders.

The desire to touch her, to kiss her would end up with her walking away and him hurting again.

So why the hell did he reach up and stroke her cheek with the back of his knuckle?

Considering how many grown men and women kowtowed to his grandparents, even him, he had to admire the way she’d kept her head high and thrown their put-downs right back at them. He’d loved her wild side as a teen, the willingness to go into any situation hell-bent for leather. No fear.

Challenged by her, he’d pushed her boundaries as hard as he’d pushed his own. Not just that afternoon at the Hollow. He’d pushed both their boundaries from the very first time they’d made love. And he hadn’t stopped pushing outside of the bedroom either. When he learned she’d planned to settle for a second rate college, he’d goaded her to apply not only to A&M so they could be together, but to Ivy League colleges too, even though she hadn’t known how she’d afford the tuition. Goddamned ego.

Yet she’d taken his challenge and done more than either of them had dreamed. Except...

Now she was...different. Instead of racing her horse across the fields, her hair streaming behind her, along with gales of laughter, she was organized. Civilized. The country beaten out of her. Lawyer Allie belonged in the most prestigious boardrooms in Dallas or Houston. Hell, in New York.

But the confidence was still there. Not the brash confidence of before, but a cool composure, a self-assurance.

If he’d been aroused by wild Allie Daniels, A. J. O’Keefe was as sexy as hell.

His phone buzzed but he let it ring—whoever it was could just leave a message. “I missed you, Allie.”

She tilted her head away from him, just enough to break contact yet again. “Don’t do this, Ben. I
can’t
do this.”

Her voice might have been steady and firm, but the pain in her eyes gutted him.

His phone rang again. And again. He finally pulled it from its holster and checked the caller ID. Gabe Larson, his equine manager, didn’t phone without cause. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

“Of course.” Her chin rose, and there was a “nothing more than I expected” tone in her voice. Or maybe he was...what the hell had the psych major he’d dated a couple of times in college called it? Projecting? Guess he wasn’t over Gramps and all his crap as much as he’d thought. Then again, if what she’d said about the video was true, he
had
let her down.

Less than two minutes later he shoved his phone back in his pocket. Wouldn’t it figure there’d be a problem that had to be dealt with he couldn’t assign to someone else right this second? “I gotta go. But we are not done here.”

“Yes. We are done.” The stubborn tilt of her chin had him cursing the interruption. The phone call had allowed her to regain control and push him aside. “I’m going to do my job and find out what Tank is up to, but once I’ve filed my report, I’m driving back to Houston.”

In a snowball’s chance in hell would he let her walk away again. “You can’t drop a bombshell on me about a video and lay all the blame on me then expect me to roll over and take it without a word.”

She shook her head. “You’ve apologized. I’ve accepted. What more can be said? Nothing about the past can be changed.”

No, he couldn’t change the past, but he could change her opinion of him. Change their future. If they had a future. Even if they didn’t want one, he damned sure wasn’t going to let her walk away still blaming him. He just needed time and the right opportunity to break through the walls she kept throwing up at him.

“If you need anything, even if it’s to yell at me, I’m just down the road at my parents’ old house.”

“Old house? They’ve moved?”

“Yeah, after Gram had a stroke a few years back, they ended up spending most of their time over at the Monstrosity,” he said, referring to his mother’s private name for their grandparent’s designer home. “I figured they’d move back last year once Gram moved into this fancy seniors’ building in Dallas, but they didn’t,” because his father had died just two months later, “so I’ve sort of inherited their place.”

“Wow, must be nice to have a home ready built for a family with no mortgage.”

Bitterness tinged her voice. Not that he could blame her. From what she’d told him when they’d arrived at Bull’s Hollow, she and her dad had never stayed in one place for more than a year. He couldn’t imagine having to leave the place with all his childhood memories, spots his father had pointed out that held special memories for him and his mom, even his grandfather’s favorite places. Of course it meant he couldn’t get away from some of his more unpleasant memories. Like his grandparents’ house. And for the past fifteen years, The Hollow.

He opened the front door and looked back. She hadn’t moved from her spot, which his ego found disappointing even though he shouldn’t be surprised. His chest tightening, he said, “I really am sorry, Allie, but I didn’t know of any video and I thought you trusted me enough to know I wouldn’t have allowed anyone to hurt you.”

“You don’t believe there is a video, do you?”

“You know what? I do,” he said slowly, swayed more by the way the defiance that had been in her eyes moments ago had extinguished. She wouldn’t be the first of George Grady’s victims, but hopefully she’d been his last. “I’m going to dig around and see if I can find out anything about it. Make sure it’s been destroyed.”

Because until he proved to both her and himself, it would forever taint their future.

Chapter Three

His body aching from hauling feed bags out of his truck in the morning, helping a crew herd the two dozen cattle that had escaped from a pasture in the afternoon and the mental stress of seeing Allie again, especially with her revelation of a video, Ben had never been so happy to turn off his truck in front of his house. Unlike his grandparents’ angular monstrosity, this place was a home. He loved its screened porches ringing the house, filled with memories of his father sitting in one of the worn rocking chairs brought to Texas by Bull Grady himself, a glass of sweet tea in his father’s hand to keep the sweltering summer heat at bay, the squeak of the chair as it rocked. The pain of losing his father wrenched fresh to remember he’d never again hear his father talking about breeding schedules or telling a joke.

The drought-burned grass crunched beneath his feet as he walked across the front lawn, where the whole family would get together for their Fourth of July barbeques or on Thanksgiving, where they’d play tag football. The home where he would lie in bed, listening to the first birds singing their songs to greet the day, the spring breeze wafting through the open windows. Where his kids could be close enough to their momma or pop to climb into bed with them if they’d had a nightmare. The way he’d done when he was little.

He walked down the central hall, past the stairway, not bothering with turning on any of the lights. He’d grown up in this house, didn’t need lights to find his way in the dark. Once he reached the kitchen, he changed his path and headed to the fridge, its bright light flooding the room as he grabbed a water bottle from its depths. He needed to eat, but frankly he was too damned tired to cook. He twisted the top off the bottle and drained half its contents before heading out to the back porch to flick on the switch for the hot tub.

His clothes in a heap on the deck, he eased himself into the water. A sigh escaped him as he rested his head and closed his eyes. Muscles he’d pushed too hard from all the numerous things he’d lifted and carried and shoved every day, be it cattle or hay or fence lines, whimpered as the jets caressed them. The weight of being responsible for the ranch, for its employees, the three thousand cattle and fifty plus horses, its seventy-one thousand other issues that arose every day had never felt heavier than it had this week.

The traffic on the highway five miles to the south and a train six miles to the north rang clear through the quiet night air. When he was a kid, a ranch hand had told him that being able to hear the steel wheels on the rails from this distance meant a storm would soon follow. He cracked open one eye and surveyed the starlit sky. The stars were obscured to the west, hinting at clouds, and the wind gusted now and then, stirring the trees by the stock pond beyond, but for now all was safe.

A horse whinnied in one of the nearby pastures, and another responded from the north, probably one of the stallions trying to court a mare in heat. Closer by, crickets chirped, one particularly loud by the back stairs, and stinkbugs occasionally flung themselves onto the wood.

Headlights arced across the side of the house and across the back lawn as a vehicle drove into the driveway. Minutes later, the kitchen light blazed on, sending a rectangular swath of brightness streaking across the lawn.

“Ben? Where are you?” Jake called.

“I’m in the hot tub.” Ben blinked, half blinded, when his brother turned on the outside spotlight.

A beer can in hand, Jake wandered onto the porch. “You got any leftovers? I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast.”

Considering they had a cook who made dinner for the hands every night, it was Jake’s own fault if he hadn’t eaten. Ha, he snorted to himself, pot meet kettle. “I haven’t had any dinner myself. Next time bring your own food instead of taking mine. And where the hell have you been? Did you turn your damned phone off? I’ve been trying to reach you all frickin’ day.”

“I was out fixing the pump—you know there’s no cell coverage out there.” Jake cracked open his beer and took a long drink.

“You were out there this late?”

“No.” Jake drew the word out to three syllables. “I had to run into Joshua Falls and meet up with Cam.”

“And you couldn’t check your messages? I needed to talk to you.”

“I got distracted, okay?”

Figured. Jake was always getting distracted. Usually by a tight pair of blue jeans on some blinged-out waitress.

He closed his eyes and rested his head once more. “Next time check your damned messages before you hit the bars.”

A rustle of cloth and the small waves lapping higher on his chest told him Jake had ditched his clothes and climbed into the opposite side. It would have been a helluva lot more fun if it had been a woman stripping off and climbing in rather than his brother. Some strange part of his brain supplied an image of Allie, though the ache in his heart shoved the thought right back out again.

What was he going to do about her? He’d thought he’d gotten her out of his system long ago. To find the attraction was still there plagued him. He had two choices, he decided. A) Be all business-like and pretend she was a stranger, or B) work out whatever the lingering attraction to her was by dating her, talking to her, whatever. He debated the various alternatives and decided he couldn’t pull off pretending she was a stranger, which left B the only choice. He could be cordial. They could talk. They had when he’d brought the food over, hadn’t they?

“Ma said Panola’s the one claiming he bought half of Bull’s Hollow.”

“Yup.” So much for pleasant thoughts of hot nights with Allie in his bed.

“She also said that Allie Daniels is working for the title insurance company.”

“Yup, but her name’s O’Keefe now, not Daniels.”

“She got married?” Jake took another long swig of his beer. “I’d like to meet the man who took her on. Man, I bet she’s a handful to please in the sack.”

“She’s divorced.” The picture of another guy making love to Allie left a sour taste in his mouth plain water couldn’t cleanse—not that it should have made any difference to him after all this time.

“She holding a grudge about her pa being fired and them getting kicked off the spread?”

“Yup.” Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. The jets that had been relieving some of the ache in his muscles proved ineffective against the memory of the hurt and betrayal on Allie’s face. “When I left for Bozeman did Gramps or Pop say anything to you about a video someone took of us? Of Allie and me? You know, doin’ it?”

Jake groaned. “Don’t tell me you got a sex tape hidden somewhere. Because I gotta tell you, bro, if there is one, I do not want to see it.”

“Her father never told her he got sacked for stealing. She claims Gramps had a video of...” Shit. “Yeah, it’s a sex tape—do not ask anything about it, okay? Anyway, she says Gramps kicked her off the ranch, claiming she was a bad influence.”
What the fuck
,
Gramps?
Did you have us followed that day?

“Hell, if Gramps had kicked off all the bad influences we’d have had no help left.” Jake cracked one eye open at him. “And no, I never heard of a video. You think she’s making it up instead of accepting that her father’s a thief?”

“I can believe her father never told her about what he’d been doing, but I don’t know about the video. I don’t think she was lying, but if there was one, I can’t figure out why Gramps wouldn’t have come after me about it. Yelled at me for disgracing the Grady name or somethin’.”

“Bro, you took off a couple days later, remember? And you both got bent out of shape and refused to talk to each other the entire summer.”

Jake had a point, Ben admitted grudgingly. The last person he’d wanted to talk to that summer was his grandfather.

“Then there’s always his old boys-will-be-boys mentality. Remember how he thought it was a waste of time for girls to go to college because they’d just get married and have babies to stay home and look after?” Jake downed another long swig of his beer. “Are you worried about this video getting out?”

“I don’t know.” If it did, it wouldn’t cause much harm to his reputation, but it could destroy Allie’s. “If there was one, do you think Gramps would have kept it?”

Jake shrugged. “I don’t know. Have you checked the office?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t find anything, but Pop cleared most of Gramp’s stuff out right after he died so...”

“If I get a chance, I’ll go through some of the boxes of Gramp’s stuff stashed in the garage. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

“Thanks.” Ben leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

A good five minutes passed before Jake spoke again. “You realize you’ll owe me if I do find it. Because unless it’s marked ‘Ben’s Sex Tape’ I’ll have to watch it to make sure it’s the right video and I do not want the sight of your naked ass burned into my retinas.”

It wasn’t his naked ass he was worried about Jake—or anyone else—seeing. “You’ll have my undying gratitude.”

Jake snorted. “Yeah, you’ll owe more than that.”

“I’ll buy you tickets to see Miranda Lambert next time she plays in Dallas.”

The silence filled with crickets and the bubbling of the jets that was finally broken by Jake asking, “She still a looker?”

“Yup.” Looker didn’t even begin to describe Allie. And Jake had never seen her naked, wet and glistening in the sun, or felt her nipples hard against his palms. Jake had never tasted them, or heard her moans as he’d sucked hard on them. Jake would never discover the connection of how her pussy would clamp around his cock when he nipped at the tight peaks.

“I think I’ll fire up the barbecue. You want some burgers if I make ’em?” Without waiting for Ben’s answer, Jake hauled himself out of the hot tub and padded buck-nekkid into the house.

Left alone, Ben stared at the stars, frowning. To this day he wasn’t sure if he’d encouraged Logan to touch Allie as a way of showing off, or to stake his claim? Or if it was just a kinky side exhibiting itself. He closed his eyes, wondering, how the hell things had gone as far as they had.

* * *

“Last one in has to finish the rest of the fence line.” Logan shoved his glasses into the glove box. When he straightened, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto quad’s seat.

Allie hissed a breath when she saw the fist-shaped bruises on Logan’s chest and side.

“Don’t say anything about it, okay?” Ben murmured.

“But—”

“I told you his dad’s an asshole with a wicked temper, but Lo gets pissed off if you mention it, okay? He’ll think you’re implying he’s weak. All he has to do is get through the summer and then he’s at school in Austin and he never has to see his dad again.”

With a self-confidence Ben had never seen his friend display before, he dropped his shorts and underwear in one move then stared at them both and bawked like a chicken. “Come on in, I dare you.”

Then Lo, his white ass blinding in the bright sun, swaggered down to the edge of the river and dove into the sparkling water.

Allie had never been shy about being naked around him, but he’d expected her to hesitate about stripping down in front of Logan. Then again, he’d forgotten Allie never turned down a challenge. After slipping off her earrings and bracelets and stashing them in the toe of her shoe, she took off her shirt. His jaw dropped when she undid her bra and dropped it on her shirt, then shimmied out of her jeans, leaving her naked except for her panties.

Jesus, she was beautiful—not that she believed him whenever he’d said it.

With a flash of white lace, she raced into the water, cutting through the water with strong strokes until she reached Logan.

“Hey, Grady, whatcha waiting for, you yellowbelly?” she called, sheer joy filling her expression, taking all the breath from his lungs. “Get naked and get yer ass in here.”

“Just enjoyin’ the view, darlin’.” And damn, what a view. The water droplets sparkled on the curve of her breast as it dripped from her hair as if she were wearing a vest made of diamonds.

The sight of her smile, one just for him, made his heart ache. This time next week, she’d be his for the rest of their lives. If he could just get the day off to go into town to buy her an engagement ring. If only Gramps hadn’t gotten all hot under the collar about him going to college the other day, the diamond ring might already be in his pocket. He kicked a rock with his boot, watching it clatter along the dirt and off the thick rock canyon wall.

He hadn’t meant to lose his temper at the old man the way he had, but now here he was stuck refencing the entire seven-mile stretch of the spread bordering the county road on the hottest day of the year. Thank heavens Logan and Allie had snuck away to help him—even if it was against Gramps’ orders.

They had just under two miles left when Logan had damned near collapsed in the late June heat and suggested they stop off at the Hollow for a break.

So he wouldn’t get to propose at the graduation party his mother was planning to throw for the three of them, but he could still get a ring before Thanksgiving. Propose to her then. Because she was definitely the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“Hey, Grady. Get your ass in here or I’ll kiss your girlfriend. And once she’s had a taste of me, she’ll never kiss you again!” Logan taunted.

Like Logan had ever dared kiss a girl before. Or that Allie would choose Lo over him. Chuckling at the empty threat, Ben toed off his boots, ditched his shirt and jeans. He hesitated before dropping his briefs and glanced around.

“What’s the matter, chicken?” Logan draped his arm around Allie’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “I think you’re afraid to prove to your girlfriend here that my dick is bigger than yours.”

“As if.” He glanced around again, looking for any sign of movement on the hills. If a ranch hand was up there and reported to Gramps he was slacking off, he’d never hear the end of it.

“Come on, Ben.” Allie lowered herself into the water until Logan’s arm dropped to his side. She swam a few feet toward him, then rose again, the water sheeting off her breasts in a shower of diamonds. “It’s not like I ain’t never seen you naked before.”

With a shrug he slipped off his underwear until he was as naked as Logan, then waded out until the bath-warm water was to his thighs. He arced his body and dove, swimming beneath the surface with strong stroke.