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Authors: Lynnette Austin

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BOOK: Can't Stop Loving You
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Sure enough, inside five minutes, they relaxed on the back patio, the sun warming their backs, eating egg salad sandwiches and pasta salad, and eyeing huge slices of still-warm apple pie.

Staubach sprawled close, tail thumping against the deck, one eye open in case anything remotely edible fell.

Brawley kicked back in his chair and studied the lake with its clear blue water, a few birds skimming its surface. Behind him, pots of geraniums and daisies brightened the log home, Annie's mark, no doubt.

He envied his friend this piece of paradise.

His stretch in Dallas had been like time out of time. He'd lived well there. Sowed more than a few wild oats trying to dislodge Maggie from his mind and heart and never quite succeeding. Now, he was done trying.

This, right here, was what he craved.

Across from him, Maggie's ivory complexion fairly glowed. She slathered blocker on it constantly and stayed out of the sun as much as possible. The bane of a redhead's existence.

That sun glinted off her red curls and created a halo effect. Talk about deceptive. Maggie? An angel?

Not likely. His Maggie was real. As red-blooded as they came.

She popped the last bite of pie into her mouth and licked her lips. “Incredible, Annie.” She pointed her fork at her now empty plate. “You ought to enter this in the fair.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely. You'll win hands down.”

“And wouldn't that send Ruby Dunst into a tailspin?” Cash asked.

“She still winning every year?” Brawley asked.

Cash nodded.

“I don't want to make anyone angry,” Annie said.

“And there's my opening.” Brawley shot to his feet, held a hand toward Maggie. “I'm sure
you
don't want to make anybody mad, either, sugar, so come take a ride with me.”

“Excuse me?”

One side of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “Cash says we can borrow his horses. You're dressed for it, so let's see what you've still got.”

“I can sit a horse better than you any day, Brawley Odell.”

“Prove it.”

Maggie stood, started for the door, and stopped. “I need to help clear lunch first.”

Annie shooed her away. “I've got this. My helper here…” She tipped her head at Cash. “Works cheap.”

“Stay away at least an hour.” Cash winked at Brawley. “Give my wife and me some time. I'm awfully tired. Think I might need a nap.”

Annie swatted him. “Hands to yourself, big boy.”

“Not in this lifetime.” He grabbed her around the waist.

“Time for us to skedaddle and give them some privacy.” Brawley grabbed Maggie's hand and pulled her behind him.

*  *  *

Mistake. Big mistake.
The words played in a loop in Maggie's mind as she walked beside Brawley. Too close. His hip brushed hers. His thumb rubbed across the back of the hand he held, sending frissons of electricity shooting through her.

She didn't like this man. He was bad for her. He'd cost her more than she could ever admit, even to herself.

And still, she found herself attracted to him.

She needed to keep her distance.

That was out of the question—physically—right now. But she could hold her emotions in check. Could recite all the wrongs he'd done her. They'd carry her through a ride to Dallas and back.

Yet when they reached the horses, she couldn't regret going along with him. It had been so long. She rested her head on the roan's and cooed to her, ran a hand down the horse's flank.

“Aren't you beautiful, Indigo Girl? You and Duchess would like each other. Yes, you would,” she soothed. “You going to let me take a ride? Hmm?”

She placed her booted foot in the stirrup and swung herself up into the saddle. Beside her, Brawley mounted Black Jack in one smooth move.

He clucked his tongue, and the stallion took off at a canter. Maggie followed, smiling at the wind on her face, in her hair. Better, far better than in any car, convertible or not. She and Indigo settled into a rhythm beside Brawley and Black Jack.

He'd chosen well. The horse suited him. Both dark and brooding. Both handsome, brilliant specimens.

They rode over the range without speaking. Maggie gave herself up to the moment and simply enjoyed. Brawley finally pulled on the reins, slowing Black Jack to a trot. They rode into a meadow, bluebonnets rioting around them.

He stopped and dismounted. Letting the reins trail, he turned to Maggie and held out his arms. She hesitated.

“You're safe with me, Maggie.”

“Said the serpent to Eve.”

He had the good grace to laugh. “Seriously. Come on.”

“I can get down from a horse without—”

“I know you're a liberated, independent, self-sufficient woman, Red. I know you can dismount. Hell, I've seen you do it a hundred times. Remember all those rides you, Cash, and I took? We rode for hours on end.”

“We had fun, didn't we?”

“We did.” His hands still reaching for her, he said, “So just this once. Let me help you down. I won't tell a soul.”

She punched him on the shoulder but leaned into him. His arms closed around her, lowering her very slowly to the ground, sliding her along the length of his very hot, very hard body.

By the time the toes of her boots touched the earth, she could barely breathe.

“Brawley—”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. No serious talk.” He pulled a blanket from his saddlebag and shook it out. “Lie here with me for a few minutes.”

“Won't the horses wander away?”

“Nope. This is a test. Cash insists they're trained for ground tying. Drop the reins, and they'll stay put.”

“And if they don't?”

Brawley held up his phone. “We call the cavalry.”

Dropping onto the blanket, he took her hand and gave it a tug. “Come here.” His voice sounded husky.

“This is a bad idea.”

“No. Two friends, beautiful weather, wildflowers blooming. Don't overthink this. Just enjoy. I'm not gonna bite.”

“Biting isn't exactly what I'm worried about.”

“I didn't bring you out here to seduce you, sugar.”

Heat flooded her face.

“I love it when you blush like that.”

She threw her hands over her cheeks. “One of the curses of a redhead.”

Giving in, she relaxed onto the blanket. She lay back and stared up at the sky. “It is a gorgeous day, isn't it?”

“This is one of the few times we've been totally alone together since—”

“Since you threw me back like a fish that didn't measure up?”

He winced. “That's not what happened.”

She raised herself on one elbow. “It's exactly what happened.”

“I can explain.”

“I don't want you to.” She stuck her fingers in her ears. “La, la, la, la, la.”

Brawley sat, turning his back on her. He plucked a dandelion, then a second and a third, threading them together to make a dandelion bracelet. He wrapped it around Maggie's wrist.

Tears burned the backs of her eyes. How many times had he done this when they'd been kids, then teens? Damn his sorry hide anyway for ruining something so special.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned into him to buss his cheek. He turned his head at the last second, met her lips instead. The kiss, hot and deep, full of passion and memories, sizzled. Maggie wondered they didn't set the blanket on fire.

Just as suddenly, he pulled back, clearing his throat. “Think we've given Annie and Cash enough time for their afternoon delight?”

Cheeks flaming, she nodded.

His hands touched those cheeks, cooled them. He brushed a wild tendril behind her ear. “I miss you, Maggie.”

“I'm sorry, Brawley.”

She found Indigo Girl waiting patiently, just as Cash had promised. Catching the reins, she mounted, watched while Brawley did the same. Then, with a light tap of her heels on the mare's flanks, she galloped away, Brawley right behind her.

*  *  *

They rode back in silence. Her eyes caught on the silly dandelion bracelet Brawley had put on her wrist, and she steeled her heart against the feelings that fought to break free.

She couldn't go back to the time when this man beside her was her world. She'd worked too hard to move past that. Worked too hard on her dreams, which didn't include him. Not any longer.

In a few short days she'd be winging to New York City. She had to stay focused. Forget the kiss that hadn't really been meant as a kiss. It had been more of a fluke. An accident.

Annie, snuggled into her husband on their porch swing, waved when she and Brawley rode into the yard.

Cash stood, settled his Stetson more firmly. “How'd Black Jack do?”

“Since we haven't talked price yet, I should tell you he's okay. Not bad.” A grin lit Brawley's face. “But I can't. Black Jack is a creature of beauty, and I've absolutely got to have him.”

“You won't do any better, pal.”

“I know. This little sweetheart,” he pointed at Indigo Girl, “is something else, too. If I hear of anyone looking for a roan, I'll pass it on.”

“Appreciate it.”

Cash planted one last smoldering kiss on Annie before he and Brawley headed to the stables.

“Wow,” Maggie said. “Who knew Cash had all that in him?”

Annie chuckled. “Lucky me, huh?”

“You bet.”

“Did you and Brawley have a nice ride?”

“We did.”

“And that's all you plan to say about it?”

“It is. How about a glass of iced tea, then we can get back to whittling down Dottie's choices so she's not overwhelmed? Bitsy will need to know today, though, so she can order the flowers.”

While they poked through the photos of floral arrangements, an ache started in Maggie's heart. She had to be more careful. She couldn't be alone with Brawley. Her heart couldn't take it. The man was addictive. She couldn't have a single taste, a single crumb, without wanting more.

And more would be bad. More would be a disaster.

More would be her downfall.

B
rawley'd put in a long day. The temperature had spiked to near eighty, and his shirt stuck to him. First thing tomorrow he'd call and get the AC people to check the unit at the clinic. It was probably as old as doc. How the staff had put up with it all this time was beyond him.

He still had to run out to his parents' before he could go home and put his feet up. His mind on the drive to his folks' place, Brawley strode past the
Maverick Junction Daily
just as the door flew open. Maggie collided with him. He automatically reached out to steady her—and found himself with his arms full of beautiful woman.

Dressed in a flirty little sundress and sandals, her hair hanging loose, she did things to his insides. What the hell? He might as well take advantage of the situation. When opportunity knocked…

His head dropped to her hair, and he sniffed. “You do smell good, sugar. Strawberries and sunshine.”

“Let go of me, Brawley.”

“In a few seconds.”

“Now.” She kept her voice low. “We're making a spectacle of ourselves.”

“That didn't used to bother you.”

“Didn't used to,” she repeated. “That was a long time ago. Now let go.
I've
grown up.”

He chuckled. “Give me another minute.”

“What I'll give you is the count of five.” Her right leg moved slightly so that it rested between his.

He grinned, till he realized she'd lined her knee up perfectly with his family jewels. The expression on her face assured him it was no accident.

To passers-by, it would look so innocent. A smile curved one side of her lips. It never wavered as, her voice low, she said, “One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three—” Her knee inched upward with each count, and damned if there wasn't a twinkle in her eye.

The little spitfire would take him down. She had before. But damned if he'd be unmanned right here on Main Street. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Mel at the window. No doubt he understood exactly what was happening. He was every bit as sure his good
friend
wouldn't lift a finger to help.

Brawley dropped his hands and stepped away.

And didn't the smug she-devil raise her hands above her head like a boxer in the ring who'd scored a knockout.

“You're a mean one, Maggie.”

She shrugged. “That's what happens when a girl has two ornery boys for playmates growing up. You're the one who taught me that move, by the way.”

“It was for protection,” he growled. “In case you found yourself in a bad situation.”

“I just did.”

“Bull.” He scowled, and she tipped her head back and laughed.

Ivy Dickerson and Luanne Edwards stopped across the street. Ivy whispered something to Luanne, and Brawley waved at them. Both women hurried into Sally's Place.

He turned his attention back to Maggie. “Thought you hired Ella for the shop.”

“I did, and she's working out great.”

“So why are you here again?”

A quick glance toward the window confirmed that Mel had disappeared. The traitor was probably at his computer gleefully composing a story for tomorrow's edition about Maggie taking him down. He'd be disappointed to learn it hadn't happened.

“Checking Mel's progress. He's printing the napkins and place cards for tomorrow's wedding. With Dottie and Gramps in such a rush, we're running right down to the wire.”

“Everything coming along okay?”

“You bet. Other than a quick stop at Dottie's, Mel's last on my to-do list.”

“Good.” He caught her hand. “Ride out to my parents' with me. I need to pick up Dad's sander, and I'd like some company.”

“His sander?”

“I found this incredible desk at an antique shop outside Dallas. But it's in desperate need of refinishing.”

“You continue to surprise me, Mr. Odell. I would never have guessed you refurbished clinics, let alone furniture.”

“I'm a man of many talents, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I'll bet. Tell you the truth, though, I've been running all day and didn't take time for lunch. I'm starving.” She laid a hand on her stomach, drawing his eyes to her flat abs, tiny waist, and curvy hips.

“Come with me. It won't take long. On our way home, we'll stop at Bubba's,” he drawled. “I'll treat you to a big old steak.”

She sighed. “I should probably stick with a salad.”

Startled, he lifted his eyes to hers. “A salad? You?” He laid a hand on her forehead, and she knocked it away.

“Cut it out, Brawley.”

“Since when do you eat rabbit food?”

“Since I'm moving to New York.”

“What the hell?” He stared at her. “Excuse me if I don't see the connection between the two.”

“I'm going to be surrounded by model-thin women,” she wailed. “I'll stand out like a sore thumb.”

Surprise rattled through him. Damned if she didn't mean it. He read a touch of insecurity in those extraordinary green eyes. Wrapping one hand around the back of her neck, he massaged it with his thumb.

“Honey, you're right. You will stick out—the way one of England's crown jewels would stick out in a box of coal.”

She dropped her head and studied a weed protruding through a crack in the sidewalk.

Dread pummeled him. She hadn't even left Maverick Junction yet, hadn't made the move to New York, and already it was changing her.

He put a finger beneath her chin and raised her face level with his. “Maggie, sweetheart, don't do this to yourself. Don't let them change you, who you are. You're stronger than that. You're unique, and they're gonna love you because of that.”

She pressed her lips together, then nodded. “I don't know about them loving me, but you're right. I am who I am. Let's go get that sander, then I'm going to order the biggest steak Bubba's got.”

“Good girl.”

“Just a sec.” She stuck her head in the newspaper office.

After Mel assured her everything would be ready on time, she walked with Brawley to his SUV. As she slid in, his gut worried that Maggie hadn't really bought in to what he'd said. That she was only giving lip service to it.

*  *  *

When his mom opened the door, she gave a happy little cry and wrapped Maggie in a hug. “What a nice surprise. Come on in, honey.”

She grinned at her son. “Nice to see you, too, sweetie.”

Brawley shook his head and followed the women inside.

The house, quiet and cool, comforted him as always. Torey, his mother's Siamese cat, came around the corner and wound between his legs. He leaned down and scratched her head.

“Dad said you were dropping by. What are you sanding, Brawley?”

“An old desk.”

“Do you need help?”

“Nope. I think I've got this.”

“Good for you. You'll stay for dinner, won't you? I made plenty. Unless the family's getting together tonight, Maggie.”

“No. Dottie's kids and grandkids flew in today, and they're planning a quiet dinner at home, resting up for tomorrow. Dad and Mom went over to Lone Tree to spend a few hours with Gramps.”

Brawley met Maggie's eyes, and she nodded.
Bye, bye Bubba's steaks.

“Sure,” he told his mom. “We're both starving. Where's Dad?”

“In his study. Why don't you go get what you need, then drag him in here for dinner. Everything's ready.”

Maggie helped Karolyn set the table while Brawley and his dad went out to the barn to find the sander. Dinner smelled heavenly, and Maggie's stomach rumbled.

She laughed. “Sorry about that. I skipped lunch today.”

“You have a lot on your plate right now, don't you?”

“Sure do.”

“You could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard about Dottie and your grandpa.” Karolyn fished some crackers from the pantry and arranged them on a small platter. She added some sliced cheese. “Here you go. Nibble on this while we wait for the guys.”

“Thanks.” The cheese took the edge off her hunger.

Karolyn's cheerful yellow and blue kitchen hadn't changed much since Maggie'd last been here. It felt almost as much like home as her own did.

She wandered to a wall covered with photos. Karolyn and Trace's wedding picture, Brawley as a baby, then on his first horse. Him and his dad fishing. Christmases, Thanksgivings, birthdays. A proud mama's wall. A strong family.

Maggie studied Brawley's high school graduation picture. So young and handsome in his cap and gown. It had galled her that she'd be back in high school the following year while Brawley and Cash went off to college. But she'd been confident, certain she and Brawley would always be together.

Then everything had changed.

“Iced tea or water for dinner, Maggie?”

“I'll have iced tea, please, if you have it made.”

“I do.”

She heard ice rattling in a glass as she looked at the last photo. Julia had taken it. Maggie stood between Cash and Brawley at their favorite swimming hole. The guys, bare-chested, had seemed so sexy, so hot. But since then? They'd both filled out nicely. They'd matured. Morphed from boys to men.

She wore the two-piece suit she'd pleaded for on a shopping trip to Austin. The mint green showed off both her hair and her figure.
Good choice, Maggie.

Karolyn came up behind her. “The three of you were so close.” She sighed and wrapped an arm around Maggie's waist. “We never could figure out what happened between you and Brawley. He wouldn't talk about it. Not then and not now. And I'm not going to pry. It's your business. But we've missed you.”

“I've missed you, too.” Maggie laid her head on Karolyn's shoulder.

The screen door opened, and the women drew apart. Brawley's mom moved to the oven and took out a pan of green chili enchiladas, the cheese bubbling on top. Maggie's taste buds did their own little happy dance. Nobody made enchiladas like Karolyn Odell.

“Maggie, do you want to get the salad out of the fridge? It's already dressed.”

“Sure.”

“Oh, and there's a bowl of sour cream in there, too.”

She set the bowls on the table as the men came in through the mudroom. Trace's suntanned, leathered face lost its smile when he spotted her.

“Maggie.” He nodded her way. “Good to see you. Been a while.”

Brawley's mom said, “I told you if we gave things enough time—”

“Now, Karo, don't start that. The kids are here for the sander and dinner. They didn't come so you'd start poking your nose in their business.”

“I'm not poking—except at you.” She pointed a long wooden spoon at her husband and son. “You two wash up. You've been out in that barn digging around, and heaven only knows what kind of dirt you've picked up.”

When Trace opened his mouth, she said, “Uh-uh-uh. No sass from either of you. Get in the washroom and clean up. Maggie's hungry.”

She loved it. Loved this family and their dynamics. They were so easy with each other. And she'd told Karolyn the truth. She had missed them terribly—well, all of them except Brawley.

Okay, so maybe she'd missed him a bit. But only because—because she'd loved him. A long time ago.

They ate in the kitchen, the conversation light and relaxed.

“Everything's ready for the wedding?” Karolyn asked.

“I think so—or almost.”

“How's your grandpa holding up?”

“Amazingly well,” Maggie answered. “He's happy again.”

The years melted away, back to when she'd eaten nearly every Sunday dinner right here at this table. The best time, though, had been when she and Brawley had been able to sneak away alone. She'd lived for that. How many nights had they parked in the dark on one of the back roads?

Remembering those nights, she squirmed in her chair. Brawley slid a hand on her leg, under the cover of the tablecloth. He squeezed lightly.

“You okay?” he mouthed.

She nodded, not trusting her voice, as his warm hand trailed up and down her leg, setting off sparks when he flirted with the hem of her sundress, traced a pattern on her bare skin.

She wanted to pull away. Needed to pull away. Couldn't.

“Could you pass the salad, son?” Trace asked.

And with that, their contact ended. The heat and the storm passed. She waited for her heartbeat to slow and reminded herself again why this was dangerous. Every minute spent with Brawley was like playing with fire. The only result of that? You got burned.

They declined dessert.

“Maggie's got a long drive back to Lone Tree, Mom.”

Karolyn insisted on wrapping a plate of leftovers for her.

Brawley's parents stood together in the front yard, the porch light behind them, waving good-bye. The temperature had dropped off, and Maggie hugged herself as she hurried to the SUV.

Neither of them spoke on the way home. Brawley navigated effortlessly through the dark, and she closed her eyes. As wonderful as tonight had been, it had stirred up some powerful memories. A Chris Young song spilled out of the vehicle's sound system, and Maggie hummed along with it.

On the outskirts of town, she remembered she needed to stop by Dottie's. She wanted to use the buttons from her first wedding gown on this new one. A piece of her past carrying her into her future.

“Before you drop me at my car, would you mind terribly stopping by Dottie's? It's getting late, and…”

“No problem.”

“I'll only be two seconds.”

“Fine.”

A few minutes later, he pulled into the drive. Maggie hopped out and ran to the door. Brawley got out, too, and sat on the stairs to wait.

Dottie came to the door, a quizzical expression on her face. “Hey, Maggie. Brawley. Did you two come together?”

“We've been running errands,” Maggie said quickly. Here was the trouble with small towns. Your business became everyone's business. “I thought I'd pick up the buttons while I was in town.”

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