Dead Man's Bluff (7 page)

“Look
who’s here,” Birdie cooed, tucking Megan into her side. “Can you believe it?”

There
was no mistaken it, Megan was as uncomfortable as he was. She had every reason
to be. She absently chewed on a corner of her lip, avoiding looking in his
direction. Two years, that was a hell of a long time to not see someone. All
he wanted to do was stare at her, watch her bite that bottom lip for hours,
for days, maybe even weeks, but he couldn’t. He divided his gaze equally
between Megan and the guy standing next to her, the fiancé. The guy was exactly
what he’d pictured, the complete opposite of him: clean cut, blonde hair, a
mouth full of perfect white teeth he’d love to plant a fist in, and he had a
bookish smart appearance about him. Shit. If this was Filly’s type, then why
the hell did she ever get mixed up with a loser like him?

The
prick extended a friendly hand to Griffin first, “I’m Conner.” After he shook
the boys hand his hand slid to the left, hovered mid-air.  “Meg’s fiancé”

Drew
eyed the polite gesture being offered to him and decided no way in hell was he shaking
the guys hand, so he held up his hands, a white rag showing in one of them.
“Sorry, better not unless you want to get grease on you.”

Meg?
It looks like with all those smarts the guy could be more original. Drew hadn’t
realized he’d made a disapproving noise until Birdie scowled at him.  After
that it just got worst. He opened his damn mouth. “Nice haircut,
Meg
.
What’s that look called? Uptight, anal school teacher?”

One
of her hands automatically went to her silky locks. Her fingers combed through
the top allowing strands of chin length hair to fall back into place framing her
face. Her new hair cut was actually cute as hell, but he wasn’t about to admit
it. He studied her reaction, waiting for the witty comebacks to start rolling. Her
green eyes connected with his, and he caught a shimmer in them that could only
be unshed tears. His chest constricted and he felt like the biggest ass on the
planet. He did the first thing he could think to do. He laughed it off and kept
going. “Let me guess, you came to sell the ranch?”

It
was a joke.

Nobody
laughed.

Her
fiancé cleared his throat. Birdie focused on the ground. And Filly, well she
still hadn’t said a damn word to him. “Am I missing something?” He asked,
confused.

Megan
explained, “Drew, Stratford has decided to sale…for real this time.”

Not
this again. “How much?”  he snapped.

 “Two
hundred and thirty thousand.”

Shit.
He was short a hundred and thirty thousand.

“Can’t
afford it, can you?” she returned with the tilt of her chin, a gleam in her eye
and this time it wasn’t tears it was enjoy, enjoyment of doing just what his
father had predicted, grabbing him by the nuts and bringing him to his knees.  

“I
guess you haven’t changed as much as I thought. You’re still the same ol’ conceited
bitch you’ve always been, hell bent on destroying my life.” He was pissed, but
more than anything he wanted some kind of reaction, a reaction to prove that deep
inside she was still the same Megan. His eyes darkened and locked with hers. He
took a step towards her, then another, challenging her. He couldn’t have
stopped moving if he’d wanted to, something more powerful than his stubborn
pride was drawing him to her or the it was the two years of missing her. His pulse
raced and he felt a hunger, a hunger to taste that bottom lip she had extended,
substitute his teeth for hers. Hell, he’d bite that bottom lip for her in a
heartbeat. Right here, right now.  Screw whoever was a spectator.   

Obviously
she felt it too. She matched him step for step. There it was… what he’d been
waiting on. “And you’re the same broke asshole you’ve always been.”

“Filly,
you’ve got that stick shoved up your ass clenched so tight, it’ll take a…”

“Whoa!
You need to back the hell up!” Her fiancé stepped in front of her, cutting off
Drew’s view of her, but he still couldn’t break the connection. He jabbed a
finger at Drew’s chest.

A
corner of Drew’s mouth turned up. “Put the finger down before I break it off.”

He
was praying the guy ignored his warning, so he’d have a reason to bloody his
nose, right after he snapped the finger.

Sadly,
the guy took orders well. He dropped his hand back to his side. “You’re not
going to talk to her like that. Not while I’m around.”

Birdie
came to the rescue. “Megan, why don’t you and Conner come inside for some tea?
You can tell me when the wedding is.” Birdie shot Drew a disappointed look over
her shoulder as she ushered the couple towards the house.

After
the screen door slapped closed, Griffin released a long breath, “What the hell
was that? Are you an idiot? You looked like you were about to throw her over
your shoulder and drag her back to your man cave. Her fiancé didn’t appear none
too happy about it either. I don’t think that guy likes you.” ♠

“I don’t like him,” Conner said as soon as they were
alone. Birdie gave the couple Megan’s old room, saying Drew could use Tink’s
old room. Conner had carried in her luggage and had slammed the bedroom door, turning
around to face her. “Do you and that guy have history,
Filly
?” He sneered
the endearment, obviously thinking it held some kind of importance.

She took a deep breath still rattled from what
happened outside. “Yes. History. Past tense.”

He rested his shoulder blades against the door and
ran his hands down over his face. She’d never seen him so frustrated. In fact, Conner
and her had never had a fight, not a single one. Ten minutes at the ranch and
Drew Mackenzie had already managed to put them right smack in the middle of
one. “Did you not think to fill me in on you two’s history, WHILE we were
discussing you coming out to the ranch? If I had known all the facts, I never
would have agreed to it.”

“Drew wasn’t supposed to be here!” She returned with
conviction. “I swear! I’m just as shocked as you are.”

Conner inhaled a deep breath. “Okay, now what? You
know I have to leave tomorrow. I’m on call at the hospital, Meg, that comes
with major responsibly, but I’m also not comfortable leaving you here with Mr.
Personality. If I do, I’ll be distracted at work, which can’t happen. You
understand that right?” She nodded. “I think you should come back with me and
let Stratford handle the sale of the ranch.”

She sighed. “We discussed this. A realtor is only
going to care about making a quick sale. I came here for all the wrong reasons
the first time. I owe it to Birdie, Emma, Griffin, Ms. Susan and…” she paused,
her eyes tearing up. “And I owe it to Tink to find someone who will take
charge, but also love that the ranch comes with a built-in family.” She closed
the distance between them and pulled him to her saying softly, “maybe I can
find a loner, someone searching for what is already there. Maybe he will need
them as much as they need him…or her.”

He engulfed her with his arms and gently kissed the
top of her head. “You have a good heart, Meg.” He pulled back forcing her to look
him in the eye. “But I still don’t like the idea of leaving you with him.”

“I understand. If this were reversed I would have a
huge problem leaving you with an ex…but I promise you can trust me. I regretted
getting involved with him two years ago and I’m not interested in history
repeating itself. You’re the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, not
Drew Mackenzie.” Her hands slid up from his chest to circle around his neck.
She placed a tender kiss in the corner of his frown, “Besides, I know exactly
how lucky I am, nothing or no one can change that.”

“Are you sure you don’t still have feelings for him,
because honestly, after what I just witnessed out there…I don’t know what to
think? That was not the calm rational Meg I adore.”

“I was reacting to an asshole. Drew is good at
pushing people’s buttons.” She grinned. “You are not an asshole. I have
absolutely no feelings for him other than annoyance.”

The tension left Conner’s shoulders. “Okay. Please
don’t make me regret saying this, but I trust you… just find a buyer quick and
put this place behind you so we can get on with our life together.”

Megan stood on her tip toes and closed her eyes,
squeezing Conner tight. How did she ever get so lucky? It wasn’t a lie. Drew
had been a huge mistake and today only made her realize that even more. She’d
imagined what it would be like the day the two of them ever accidently bumped
into each other again. His father and Stratford had made a bet, and Drew had
followed through on it with the callousness of a true Mackenzie. It was obvious
he didn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse. And she was over him. ♠

Chapter Eight

Jonathan Mackenzie hated Boonville, Arkansas.  

But
it was his roots, where he came from.

He’d
spent most of his adolescent years knowing he didn’t quit fit, a square peg in
a round hole. Cliché, but true.

He
could remember his grandfather boasting about what a great place it was to
raise a family. Thankfully, his father had had other notions.  He’d built an
empire of fortune from the ground up and relocated his family to Nashville.
Mackenzie had been eighteen when the move had taken place, eighteen and an
arrogant-know-it-all. Combine the two with parties, money, drugs, and sex… and
what you get is a walking disaster. Even worse he’d already fallen in love with
a girl who lived back in Boonville, Arkansas—Clarissa.

Five
years after the move, after sowing his wild oats all over Nashville, a very
smug Mackenzie showed up on Clarissa doorstep with a five carat oval engagement
ring buried in the deep pocket of his dress slacks. He’d come to possess many
things, but never a woman, not fully. Clarissa had the right blend of every
quality a sensual woman should have, best of all she was loyal and soft spoken... 
easy to control. And he was certain the girl loved him. Five years without him
had probably primed her; put enough fear of losing him into her to make her
willing to do just about anything for him. 

For
some insane reason he trusted Lillian. She believed he needed to face his past
head on, so here he was… Mackenzie shoved the cab fare in the direction of the
cabby “This shouldn’t take too long. I expect you to be on standby…I don’t want
to have to wait whenever I’m ready to leave. ” The cabby mumbled in agreement as
one of Mackenzie’s polished shoes splashed in a stream of rain water gushing
along the curbing. “Dammit!” He hiked up a pants legs, shook the water from his
Berluti two thousand dollar loafers, careful to step over the dirty water
during his second attempt to reach the dingy walk.    

His
gaze narrowed on the small white frame house before him: the paint was chipping
and peeling from its rotten lap siding, glass panes were sporadically busted
out of the windows along the front, a broken down tan couch and two rusted
metal chairs was the porches only furniture.

This
was going to be harder than he thought. He smoothed the wrinkles out of his
waistcoat and white dress shirt and climbed the steps leading to the front
door. The metal screen door moaned stiff on its hinges. Swung fully open the
door stayed put held by the cupped porch boards as Mackenzie rapped on the door
with his knuckles.  He wasn’t one for patience and kept up a steady beat until
someone flung open the door. “Yeah, whatever you’re sellin’ mister… Auntie C
ain’t gonna buy it. She says we’ve already got enough crap.” The girl looked
near eight and was smacking a wad of gum with her hip jutted out, a hand
settled atop it as her gaze traveled up the guy towering over her.  She sniffed
as if she was unimpressed.

His
gaze narrowed on the girl’s freckled face. She sure looked like a Miller, a
sorry bunch of bottom feeders waiting for a handout. He turned his usual air of
arrogance up a notch. “Does Clarissa still live in this dump?”

“Who
wants to know?”

“Look,
I have a low tolerance for bullshit. Who are you? Clarissa’s rude little niece
or another illegitimate cast off?”

The
girl folded her arms over her pebble size chest. “I don’t like you. You’re not
nice.” 

“The
feeling is mutual, darling.”

And
then he heard it… a voice he hadn’t heard for years coming from inside the
house. “Might as well let him in, Olivia, he won’t leave until he gets whatever
wants.”