The Maverick Meets His Match (11 page)

Just like that the mood of the room shifted with the force of tectonic plates. How the hell had Mandy found out about his meeting with Stan? Judging by the
why don’t you drop dead
look on her face, she suspected the worst.

“Stan simply expressed his interest. An interest you are no doubt well aware of.” How had he suddenly been put on the defensive?

“Was he inviting you out tonight for a drink or to celebrate a deal?” she asked as her breasts rubbed the pockets of his shirt. Ten years ago, her breasts had been small but perky. Now they were firm, curvy, and sufficiently prominent without being so large as to seem unnatural. Ten years ago, her kisses had been shy and sweet. That kiss earlier had been demanding and consuming. He liked consuming.

He shifted his hand so his thumb slid under her shirt and rested against her warm skin. She was soft underneath her clothes. Soft and warm.

“Stan’s let me know he’s interested. And I’m bound by the trust your grandfather placed in me to explore all options. But JM also asked me to help you through this transition, if selling doesn’t turn out to be the best option. So I intend to do that too, whether you want me to or not.”

“I’ll fight you anyway I can if you try to sell. However little faith JM had in me, I’ll prove him wrong—all by myself.” Her eyes glistened in the low bar light, and he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t from tears.

Ty wished he could erase that pain rather than be the one causing it. But that wasn’t the hand dealt him.

“The way he bragged about you, I doubt it was a lack of faith in you, Mandy, as much as it was an understanding of the industry and what it could be like for an inexperienced woman.”

“I’m capable of running things. JM may not have been comfortable with the idea of a woman at the helm, but this is the twenty-first century. And I know more about Prescott, rodeo, and livestock than you’ll ever know.” She stomped her foot on the dance floor, causing a smack.

“I’ve no doubt you do. I hope selling will prove unnecessary.” He gathered her closer in his arms in the hope of coaxing her to continue dancing.

“Will you promise, in writing, not to sell before the end of six months if I marry you?” she whispered in his ear.

Ty tucked a strand of her soft, silky hair behind her ear. No doubt about it, even with her jaw bunched and her eyes boring into his hide, she was a beautiful woman. And those green eyes gave away every thought in her head. She’d actually been considering marriage. Guess she was willing to do just about anything to keep Prescott Rodeo.

Too bad he was such an honest guy.

“You know I can’t promise that, because I made a different promise to JM. But I will promise that I’ll do my best to help you keep the business viable. Whether the company is sold or kept, it’s in my best interest and everyone’s best interest to do that.” Ty moved her across the dance floor further from their booth. He hadn’t intended to be so blunt, but in his experience, truth was the best anecdote to wishful thinking.

She stared, her chest rising and falling seductively in deep breaths, just like he imagined would be the case when he made hard and fast love to her.

“Has Stan made you an offer?”

“I’d liken it to our situation, Mandy. Stan’s in the courting stage, so to speak.”

“How is that anything like our situation?”

“I’m trying to court you.”

She scowled. “You haven’t been trying to court me, Martin. You’ve been trying to get me in your bed. Big difference.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been trying to marry you. That’s the big difference.”

“So you can have your cake and eat it too…”

He arched his eyebrows. Now that was an intriguing metaphor. She blushed—an angry blush.

“You know what I mean.”

He stroked his thumb across her smooth back. Just touching her had him hot. He could just imagine what he’d feel if he were inside of her. “What I know is that we have an opportunity to enjoy each other for half a year, at which time you would get to lead the company if I don’t have a better deal on the table by then. Worst case for me, I’d get a larger share of Prescott. So, if selling is such a bad idea…marry me.”

The last two words almost caught in his throat. He’d sworn he’d never say them. Now here he was, asking a woman who didn’t even like him. Desire and money were potent motivators for sure. Made men do crazy things. He was apparently no exception.

“That’s some proposal.”

“Seems your best play.” He counted on her preferring honesty to sweet talking. “I’m willing to abide by the provisions of that bizarre will. But I’m a realist. We will end up in bed. Married or otherwise.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” she challenged. She lifted her hand to smooth down her hair and then returned it to his shoulder. Despite the air-conditioning, the room felt warm.

“We’ve been circling around each other for ten years now. It’s time we tested out what we’d be like together. Hell, marriages have been based on a lot less than the physical attraction we have—and don’t go spoiling my sense of your integrity by lying about what you feel. Your lips didn’t lie.”

She swallowed hard and rested her chin on his shoulder, facing away from him. The fact she didn’t snap right back or refute his assertion about their sexual attraction, he’d take as tacit agreement.

“Can you think of a good reason why we shouldn’t marry temporarily?” he said against her ear. He hadn't closed deals by laying back.

She lifted her head. “You’ll get more shares in the company, and I might never be rid of your interference. If you agreed, in writing, not to sell Prescott, however, I’d be much more interested in marrying you.”

Ty released a smile. This was the oddest negotiation he’d ever been involved with. “No deal on that score. I gave JM my word. I owe it to him to do the best thing for the family. Besides, sounds a little too much like blackmail.”

“Then guess you’ll have to be content with getting the ranch house.” The way she scowled, he knew she hated that idea almost as much as she hated the thought of marrying him.

“I told you before, I’m not interested in the ranch house, Mandy. I’m interested in us being together after all this time.” He held her closer, tighter. He could feel every inch of her body against every inch of his. Damn she felt good in his arms. She’d feel even better in his bed.

“Just for another notch on the old belt?” She looked up at him and thrust out her chin. He admired her fight, but she was choosing the wrong battle.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a woman I find…challenging. And desirable.”

She blushed, the color suffusing her cheeks with a rosy pink glow, making her look like a cute little Kewpie doll.

“As for the company,” he continued, “after the six months, I wouldn’t own enough shares to sell it or block you in whatever you wanted to do, even if I could make a case that I had ideas for a better use of capital.”

She picked at something on his shoulder. “I don’t trust you, Martin,” she finally allowed.

“No kidding.”

“I guess that’s been obvious.” Her eyes shimmered in the light, like pools of deep water under the moon. There was something about this woman. Something that challenged him to dig deeper, try harder.

He reached for her hand on his shoulder and folded her fingers into his. She was soft and warm, and another jolt of lust zinged him. “I promise I’ll always be straight with you.”

He ran his thumb over her smooth warm hand, making lazy circles. She had pretty hands, small boned and surprisingly soft.

She didn’t pull her hand away. “Being married doesn’t mean I’d go to bed with you,” she said.

If she was asking him to gamble on whether she’d succumb in six months, those were odds he’d gladly take. He was marrying to have a woman he’d wanted for ten years. A woman who had been forbidden fruit by virtue of her being JM’s granddaughter. Now JM had, in effect, given his blessing. And for just six months. And with an added bonus of stock. Hell, why wouldn’t he take that gamble? Because there was no way Mandy was going to be able to hold out for 180 days—and nights. He’d make sure of that.

“I’ll take my chances. Consider if you have more to win or lose if we married. I think the answer will be obvious.”

The song ended. The dancers were leaving the floor, but Ty stood holding Mandy.

She looked up at him as if she was searching his face for an answer to her dilemma.

“I doubt it,” she finally said.

But he heard a distinct quiver of uncertainty in her voice. He’d take that as progress.

Mandy slid onto the red faux-leather seats of the booth at the local café, where her two girlfriends sat across from her, eyeing her as if she had some strange disease. Maybe she did.

She’d texted them Monday morning on the way home from the rodeo and asked them to meet her at their regular spot. She needed a reality check, and she couldn’t think of any better people to give it.

“Thanks, both of you, for coming on such short notice.”

“You got our curiosity up for sure,” Libby Cochran said, her blue eyes sparkling with impending motherhood, an event she’d announced at their last dinner.

Mandy had met Libby when Libby had interviewed for a public relations job for the Western Stock Show in Denver, where Mandy had represented Prescott Rodeo on the event committee. It turned out Mandy knew Libby’s dad, since Prescott Rodeo had bought several pickups from his dealership. As they had gotten to know one another, they found they had a lot more in common than either might have guessed, particularly in the family dynamics department. Even though Libby had eventually turned down the position, they’d become friends.

If Libby was Mandy’s newest friend, Cat McKenna was her oldest. Cat’s family had been ranchers for generations, and the two girls had grown up together at county 4-H events, showing off their heifers. Mandy had seen Cat through some difficult times, what with a relationship gone bad, a father who disowned her, and a little boy to care for. But Cat had eventually come home and, with her father’s passing, was running Pleasant Valley Ranch, or at least trying to.

Mandy had introduced Libby to Cat, and they hit it off. The three friends had been meeting periodically for a “girls’ night out” at the local café ever since. Tonight, all three dressed in jeans. Mandy had thrown on a balloon-sleeved turquoise shirt that matched the dyed leather turquoise insert in her squared-toe Tony Llama boots. Libby’s top was a blousy pink number, while Cat’s sleek designer logo shirt was in keeping with her high-end taste.

“Does this have something to do with your grandfather’s will? Did you find out the business is insolvent or something?” Cat bit her lip and squinted her brown eyes as if trying to puzzle out the why and wherefore of the evening.

There would be no way either of them would guess what Mandy had to discuss. And they had to be wondering about the emergency that placed them all here on a Monday night with only a few hours’ notice.

“It has everything to do with my grandfather’s will, unfortunately. And no, the business isn’t insolvent.”

At that moment, a perky young waitress appeared at the table, pad and pen in hand.

They each gave their order, familiar with the menu, seeing as this had become a regular meeting spot to reconnect over a burger and a glass of beer—or in Libby’s case now, a soda. Libby was the only one who was married, having tied the knot in late winter with a handsome bronc rider she had been married to briefly five years earlier and divorced forty-eight hours later—but that was another story.

As the waitress strode away, Cat leaned in, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder. “So tell us.”

“First, I want to know how you’re feeling, Libby.”

“Fine, just fine. The morning sickness has finally left—although it should have been billed as all-day sickness. But tell us your news.”

“And your father? How’s he doing?”

Libby huffed and blew a strand of her pageboy length blond hair from her face. “He’s coming along. Chance is doing well on the circuit. We’re all good, Mandy—now dish.”

“And little Jake? How is he doing, Cat?” Jake was Cat’s son, a cute, active four-year-old who made Mandy’s maternal instincts pop whenever she saw the little imp.

“Good. He misses his grandfather though. Strange as it may seem, Jake had become my father’s reason for being. Life certainly takes strange turns.”

That was an understatement.

“And are you still going ahead with that adverse-possession lawsuit?”

“There will be time to talk about my issues another day. You didn’t call us here on a Monday night to find out how we are doing. You could have done that over the phone.”

The waitress was back with a cola and two bottles of craft beer, which she set on the table. Mandy took a swig, enjoying its yeasty taste. She hardly knew how to begin.

“The will was read on Thursday, right before we had to leave for a rodeo. It is a complicated document, but essentially…” Mandy did her best to explain it all. Libby and Cat had tons of questions, but in the end, they seemed to get it just as the plates of burgers arrived.

“I can’t believe your grandfather is trying to arrange your marriage. With a guy you hate,” Libby said. “Although I guess it’s just as bad as a father arranging a divorce from a guy you love.”

“They say love and hate are very closely related,” Cat offered.

“Not in this case.”

“Well, I seem to recall a teenager who thought she was in love with Ty Martin.”

“A lot has changed in ten years, Cat. And no one is talking about love here. This would be strictly a marriage of convenience for just six months. And I am only considering it to get my company back and keep it from being sold.”

“But you said he could sell it in six months, regardless, if he has a buyer.”

“Well, that’s the gamble I would be taking. Given how tight credit is, I think I have good odds of keeping the company. Has to be better odds than if he has a year.” Or two.

“Then why are you hesitating? If you hate him”—Cat put air quotes around the word “hate” as she spoke—“wouldn’t that make it
less
complicated? Just divorce him after six months, since you said that was what he wants as well.”