Betting on Texas (8 page)

“You think you’re so smart,” Jesse growled as he closed the
space between them. “Well, let’s see how smart you really are. How about we up
the ante?”

“Up...up the ante?”

His hands lingered over her arms seductively while his entire
length pressed her further against the cold tile wall.

“You have to host the annual Double Trouble Fourth of July
picnic.” Jesse fiddled with a few strands of her hair. “And make nice with
everyone in town.”

Miranda closed her eyes at the feel of his warm breath against
her neck.

“What are the stakes?” she asked in a husky voice that even
surprised her.

“If you win, you’ll have the rare satisfaction of proving me
wrong.” Jesse stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “And maybe even
making a few friends in the process.”

“And if I lose?” Miranda’s breath was ragged.

“That’s easy,” he whispered in her ear. “If you lose, you’ll
let Ramblewood down and you’ll never be accepted in this town. Even if you do
win the other bet, which still stands by the way, everyone will say you were the
girl who broke the Independence Day tradition.”

“Why you...” Miranda snapped back to reality and tried to push
him away. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Jesse braced himself on either side of her so Miranda couldn’t
escape. Miranda kicked him in the shin with her bare foot causing them both to
wince.

Oh, that hurt!

“Next time, put shoes on.” Jesse smirked. “This is Texas,
sugar. We are steeped in tradition. You let them down and they will never forget
it.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Miranda attempted to hold out her hand to
shake on it. “Fourth of July picnic it is.”

Jesse’s mouth crashed down upon hers. All too quick to comply,
she tasted the urgency of his kiss along with a hint of peppermint as he parted
her lips with his tongue. He pulled her tighter to him. Animosity forgotten,
Miranda wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the feel of his hardened form
against her.

He broke the kiss as fast as he began it.

“I thought sealing this deal with a kiss would make it more
official.” He walked to the door and turned to face her. “Oh, and don’t forget
your towel, sugar.”

Miranda looked down. Her towel had fallen to the floor sometime
during their kiss. That breathtaking kiss.

Chapter Six

Sprawled across the bed, Jesse propped himself up on
his elbows while he watched the local news. Snacks and sodas were laid out on
the table. A vending machine raid must have occurred while she was in the
shower.

“Finished in the bathroom?” he asked, not looking up.

“Yes.”

Jesse rose from the bed and walked past Miranda, avoiding eye
contact. He shut the bathroom door behind him.

The roughness of his evening stubble lingered against her
cheek. Miranda had been disappointed the kiss ended so abruptly. Sitting on the
bed, she popped open a can of soda. He even thought to make it diet. Maybe he
did pay attention to her grumblings about her weight after all.
Either that or he thinks I’m fat.

The coolness of the can against her lips replaced the warmth of
Jesse’s kiss. The television drowned out the rain pounding down on the roof.
Heavy from exhaustion, her eyes slowly closed out the day’s events.

* * *

S
UN
STREAMED
THROUGH
the window where the
curtains didn’t quite meet all the way. She snuggled deeper into Jesse’s chest,
his arm tightening around her as he kissed the top of her head.

Miranda’s eyes flew open. She patted the area next to her and
shot upright. Her hand stopped shy of his...
Oh,
no!

“Get out of my bed!” She pushed him away and his body thudded
against the floor. Surprised at her strength, Miranda peered over the edge of
the bed.

Whoops!

Jesse’s head popped up and startled her.

“What was that for?” Jesse asked as he shook off the night’s
sleep.

“What were you doing?” Miranda rose to her knees, hands on her
hips. He had better come up with a good answer for this one. “You told me you
would sleep in the chair.”

Jesse hauled himself on the bed. Without a word, he glared at
her.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Miranda questioned.

“As if you could,” Jesse shot back. “We both knew I couldn’t
sleep in those tiny chairs. I didn’t think you would attack me for sharing a bed
with you.”

“Sharing a bed is one thing. Taking advantage of me is
another.”

“Get over yourself, will you?” Jesse rose before her, clad in
nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. A pair he filled out rather well.

“
You
cozied up to
me.
I’m a man, Miranda. Who am I to refuse your utmost
desires? I’d be a fool to resist your affections.”

Affections?

“You thought I was coming on to you?” How dare he be so
presumptuous? She may be attracted to him, but it didn’t mean she’d sleep with
him.
Well, at least not so soon.

Jesse reached for his clothes and boots and tugged them on.
“Get yourself together and let’s go. I’ll meet you outside.”

He snatched the room key from the table and left her alone.
What happened? Last night they’d argued in the bathroom and then this morning
she found herself wrapped up in his arms. It was a feeling she enjoyed more than
she cared to admit.

* * *

O
NCE
THEY
WERE
BACK
at the ranch, Jesse and Miranda
went their separate ways. A word didn’t pass between them the entire drive home.
Instead, they both silently stewed over the other. Mable greeted Miranda on the
porch with a wary smile.

“How was your trip, child?”

“Interesting, to say the least.”

Miranda and Mable shared a good laugh over Jesse’s jealousy of
Ty and Jesse’s unfortunate, sudden removal from bed that morning.

“You’re going to be the death of him.”

“Me?” Miranda smirked. “What did I do?”

“It’s written all over the boy’s face. As much as he wants this
ranch, he gave up on the idea the day he found out it was sold.”

“What are you trying to say?” Miranda asked, not sure she
wanted to hear the answer.

“He’s stayed on for you.” Mable beamed. “I do believe the boy
is smitten with you.”

“I’m flattered you would think so.” Miranda wanted this topic
of conversation over with fast. “But I think you’re mistaken. There may be a
sexual attraction on his part, but that’s about it. He’s staying because of our
bet.”

After a hot shower, Miranda headed into town with Mable to
finally pick out a bed. Mable suggested a bite to eat at The Magpie. Famished,
Miranda accepted with only slight hesitation. After the other day, she wasn’t
sure she would be welcome there ever again.

Plus, she wanted to nail down Mable’s salary now that she was
almost finished moving back into the guest cottage. With Jesse’s bet, she needed
Mable’s assistance now more than ever. What’s one more adjustment to her
finances? She’d been adjusting all her life.

A few people stared as they walked through the luncheonette
door. Mable shot each one a warning glance as if to intimidate them to be on
their best behavior. Miranda giggled. It was funny to think of Mable as her
bodyguard.

“Afternoon, ladies.” Bridgett sat two glasses of water on the
table. “How are you doing, Miranda? Mable?”

Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. At least the woman didn’t
hold a grudge. Although, Miranda had a feeling Ramblewood would remember her
little scene for a long time to come. Especially considering how fast Beau and
Aaron got wind of it. Mable said small town gossip traveled fast. She wasn’t
kidding.

Lunch at The Magpie went better than expected. She met Maggie
Dalton, the owner of the luncheonette, a sweet woman who doted on every customer
as if they were family.

The brave and the curious ventured over to their table. Mable
introduced her as the new owner of Double Trouble as if there was anyone in town
who didn’t already know that. Mable strategically stressed the fact Miranda was
new in town. She even acted as if she had arrived that day. It gave Miranda a
clean slate and a suggestion to her neighbors to do the same.

Everyone in the luncheonette knew everyone else. The people at
one table joined in the conversation at the next. Before long, the entire place
was talking about the same thing. It was a fun, homey atmosphere Miranda thought
only existed on television.

After lunch, with Mable’s pay settled, Miranda purchased a
mattress and box spring from Mayfield’s. Not wanting to wait another day for its
delivery, she had the store load it in the bed of her truck.

The two women struggled unloading the bed when they arrived
home. Jesse offered his assistance, but they insisted they were capable of
handling things themselves. Once inside the house, getting the darned thing up
the stairs was another matter altogether.

The narrow stairs that led off the kitchen accommodated the
mattress. However, there was no way the box spring would make the sharp turn at
the top.

“How in the world did people ever get anything up to the second
floor?” Miranda asked as she swiped the sweat off her forehead with her arm.
“Were people really small, with tiny furniture a hundred years ago when this
house was built?”

Mable struggled with her end of the box spring. “This is
insane, Miranda. We need Jesse.”

“Maybe if we try the stairs in the living room.” She wasn’t
about to ask Jesse for help. He wouldn’t be around for much longer—one month was
the deal and she was determined to win. She might as well start doing things
without his help now.

“I am too old to fight with this bed any longer.” Mable brushed
her hands together. “And my nephew will be here soon with what’s left of my
furniture.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll go up and get the bed frame together in the
meantime. Let me know when Jacob gets here and I’ll come help you.”

“Don’t you worry about me, child,” the woman said. “You have
plenty of your own work to do around here.”

The iron bed went together with relative ease. It was a
handsome antique. Beau said it had been in his attic for years. Now if she could
only get the rest of the bed up the stairs, she’d be in business.

Stretching out her back, Miranda caught a fresh breeze at the
open window. She gazed out to see Jesse, who stood in the middle of the corral,
a horse circling him. A length of rope tied to the horse in one hand and a whip
in the other. The whip cracked through the air at the poor defenseless
animal.

Enraged, Miranda flew down the stairs and through the kitchen,
startling Mable.

“Slow down, child.”

“Jesse’s hurting that horse!”

Before Mable could respond, Miranda was outside. She swung the
corral gate wide-open and stormed into the center.

“Put down that whip!” Miranda ordered.

Startled, the horse reared and tried to bolt, almost dragging
Jesse behind him. He fought to regain control. Miranda watched as the animal
twisted and kicked to break free.

“Close the gate!” Jesse fought to hold on to the rope with both
hands.

“Give me the whip now!” Miranda shouted.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Get out of
here!”

“I will not let you abuse that animal.”

Jesse lost his grip as the horse broke free and charged toward
the opening.

“Loose horse!” Jesse yelled.

Miranda ran to the side of the corral. The horse tore past her.
Jesse ran to the stables and flew out of them, bareback on General Lee.

She watched through the clouds of dust General Lee’s hooves
kicked up. The horse ran down the drive and headed toward the main road.
Oh, no!
It wasn’t a busy road, but just the same. She
didn’t want to see anything happen to the animal.

A large blue pickup drove into the ranch. Aaron! He cut the
wheel and blocked the horse’s path. He jumped out and pulled rope from the bed
of the truck. Swinging the lariat above his head, he looped the horse’s neck.
Jesse rode up and snatched it from his hands. He reined the horse to a complete
stop and tied the rope off to his saddle horn. On foot, Aaron caught up and
soothed the horse.

“You better turn tail and run before Jesse gets ahold of your
hide.”

Mable stood behind her, her hands on her hips and her foot
tapping madly.

“I didn’t do anything! He had a whip and—”

“He was lunging,” Mable interrupted. “It’s a form of
training.”

“But—”

Mable didn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence. “The
whip never touched that horse. It’s the sound that makes the horse move
forward.”

Miranda watched Aaron and Jesse walk the horse to the stables.
She could have sworn he was whipping the horse.

Aaron stopped before the stable entrance. Jesse headed straight
for her. Thin lines formed deep across his brow, arms close to his sides, fists
clenched.

“Stay away from the horses from now on,” Jesse growled as he
advanced. “You cause trouble every time you’re around.”

Miranda quickly moved behind Mable, putting her between the two
of them for protection. Mable held up her hands to calm Jesse.

“Take it easy, Jesse,” Mable pleaded. “She didn’t know.”

“Jesse,” Aaron called with a hint of trepidation in his
voice.

Ignoring them both, Jesse glared over the top of Mable’s head
at Miranda.

“I mean it. You stay away from them.”

“I’m sorry,” Miranda said. “From where I stood it looked like
you were hurting him.”

“You must not think much of me, then.” Jesse clenched and
unclenched his fists. “What if the horse got hit by a car? He could have been
killed and so would whoever was driving.”

Miranda paled. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. All she
wanted to do was protect the horse.

“I didn’t know” was all she mustered.

“Go back to wherever you came from!” Jesse stomped to the
stables, passing Aaron on his way out. “Useless woman.”

What?
The words registered as soon
as they left his mouth. No one called her useless and got away with it. She had
enough of that with her mother. Claire always said Miranda would never amount to
anything. Working in a department store was a
useless
job
in her mother’s book.

Miranda stormed into the stables after him. Aaron caught her
arm, stopping her.

“Let him cool off, Miranda. If you go in there now, you may not
come out alive.”

Miranda broke from his grasp.

“Did you hear what he called me? I am not useless!”

Aaron put an arm around Miranda’s shoulder and led her away
from the stables.

“Let’s go inside and you can tell me what happened.”

Miranda moved away. She didn’t want to be pacified or coddled.
She wanted to be mad. Mad at Jesse, mad at Jonathan for not returning her calls,
and mad at herself for being so stupid and assuming Jesse was hurting the
horse.

In the kitchen, Miranda couldn’t bear to look at Mable. She
pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and tried to reach Jonathan again.
Voice mail, as she expected. With Aaron and Mable watching her, she opted not to
leave the heated message burning her lips and hung up the phone.

“Grab an end.” Miranda picked up an end of the box spring.
“We’re getting this upstairs even if it kills us.”

Without a word, Aaron lifted the other end and after a half
hour of the two of them pushing and swearing, they finally got it up the narrow
staircase and onto the bed frame.

“Who designs stairs two feet wide with a turn large enough only
to accommodate an infant?” Miranda said as she slid down the wall of the bedroom
and sat on the floor.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aaron responded. “I’d say a toddler could
get through there.”

Miranda faced Aaron sitting on the box spring and started to
laugh. The whole situation she had gotten herself in was so absurd. He reached
out and helped her to her feet.

“Come on. Let’s get the mattress on, so you have some place to
sleep tonight.”

Once the bed was together, Miranda removed a set of new sheets
from a bag on the floor. They made the bed together, play fighting with the
fitted sheet.