Gambling On a Heart (16 page)

Zack looked away. “Jake didn’t take long to make a move.”

“What do you mean?”

He met her puzzlement with something dark and dangerous clouding his blue eyes. “You’re a rich woman now, Tracy. Surely, you can smell this skunk a mile away.”

“Logan said the same thing.” Sighing, Tracy leaned against the desk and folded her arms over her chest again. “Thank God I can now afford Dobbs, Cartwright and Cartwright. My old lawyer is a bumbling idiot.

“So, Logan’s taking on your case?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Zack didn’t seem to be in any big hurry to leave, but it was easy to see he had no clue what to do or say next. He twisted his hat in his hand and then put it on his head. She figured he was on his way out. Instead, he asked, “Hey, are you free for lunch? I was heading over to the diner when I saw Brent taking the turn at the intersection of Ferguson and Austin Streets like a bat out of hell.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Whatever had brought Zack into her shop, she wouldn’t question it. “I don’t have an appointment until one. Besides, Melissa will be here by then. So, yeah, lunch sounds great. Did you want me to meet you there?”

His deep laugh warmed her clear through. “You can come with me, if my ride isn’t too intimidating.”

“I don’t mind.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from his, and before she thought about what she was saying, she asked, “Are you gonna handcuff me?”

The instant darkening of his eyes forestalled her embarrassment. His slow Texas drawl set her insides on fire. “Would you like to be handcuffed?”

She swallowed back her response to him and the X-rated image his husky tone created. “Ah...let me grab my purse from the office.”

His reverberating laughter followed her down the short hall. No, doubt about it, Zack wanted her body, but did he want her heart?

Chapter 8

Although Leon Ferguson had murdered Ella Larson back in July, her sister and brother kept her diner open. They ran Ella’s Diner during the day and the Longhorn Saloon at night.

The interior was reminiscent of a 1950’s soda shop in bright red and white. The faux red marble- and chrome-edged bar filled the front of the dining room. The alternating red and white stools, along with most of the booths, were all filled with folks who regularly patronized the diner. Zack became very aware of the woman beside him as they entered.

He removed his hat, but kept his mirrored sunglasses in place.

As he searched out an empty table, every eye in the place seemed to turn toward him and Tracy. He returned the greetings he received, but he was cognizant of the curious looks. Many of these same people had attended the football game the other night.

Zelda Marion, an older woman who usually was his waitress at lunch, hurried past loaded down with plates of food. “Hey, Zack, you want your usual?”

He glanced at Tracy. “No, not today.”

When Zelda noticed Tracy, her eyes widened with surprise. Everyone knew his and Tracy’s ugly history, if for no other reason than because he was a Cartwright and she was part of the Ferguson clan. Both families had been favorite topics of gossip for over a century.

Zelda glanced at Zack again and said with a smile, “Oh, I see you’ve got company today. Sit anywhere. I’ll be right over.”

Tracy seemed as anxious as he was about the overly interested audience as they found a booth and sat across from each other. No doubt, he would be fielding phone calls from his mother and aunt that night regarding his
date
with Tracy Parker. He wouldn’t be surprised if his aunt didn’t have him married by the end of the week. Thank God she liked Tracy and he was her nephew, or his life could become a cesspool of rampant rumor very quickly.

He retrieved the plastic covered menus from behind the napkin dispenser and handed one of them to Tracy. She smiled her thanks and took it from him. He had a hard time concentrating on the billings for the lunch rush as Tracy adorably scrunched up her nose and squinted down at her menu.

“Forget your glasses?” Zack put the menu aside. He decided to order his usual anyway.

His heart skittered over several beats at the pinking of her cheeks.

She pushed her long hair behind her ears. “I only need the darned things for reading. I don’t even wear glasses to do hair. I should get Lasik surgery, but I can’t seem to justify the cost, and my insurance won’t pay for it. But I’ve been doing a lot more reading lately with school.”

“You could afford it now.”

She shrugged and the corners of her pink lips twisted into a smirk. “I suppose I can. I forget that I’m a rich woman these days. Heck, the interest payment on my inheritance alone almost gave me a heart attack. No wonder everyone wants a cut.”

“How’re classes going?”

Tracy closed her menu and wrinkled her nose. “Okay. I guess. It’s gonna take some getting used to. I mean, I’ve taken classes before to get my associate degree in business, and of course my technical training to get my license to do hair, but I’m still wondering if pre-med isn’t a pipe dream.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“Tell that to my crazy nerves.”

Zelda saved him from commenting by stopping to take their orders. After she returned to the workstation behind the counter, he broke the sudden awkward tension and asked, “Have you heard from the newlyweds?”

Tracy laughed and visibly relaxed. He’d always admired the relationship of the Quinn siblings. Growing up with a father who moved around every few years had made it difficult for them to make lasting friends, especially since they both had been loners. Dylan was as loyal as they come when it came to those who he cared about; however, it took him a while to form that kind of relationship. Tracy had been shy and introverted as a kid.

Zack still remembered the gangly, cross-eyed girl who had walked into his sixth grade class. She’d looked like she was being led into the bullfighter’s ring–and something about her overwhelming vulnerability had stolen his heart. And scared him shitless.

Still did.

“You’ve got to be joking, right?”

He shrugged and leaned back against the red leather of the booth. “I wasn’t, but I can deduct from your response the answer is no. I was hoping you’d told them about the theft.”

Zelda returned and placed their drinks before them. He thanked her, and once the older woman was gone again, Tracy sipped her sweet tea. “I told you I’d only tell them about it if something else happened. Nothing has, so why ruin their time together? They deserve this. But to answer your question, Charli sent me a message when they arrived, a picture of her and Dylan posing on the beach in Maui. No message, only the picture taken with her cell phone.”

“We did good setting them up.”

“That we did.” Tracy matched his grin and lifted her glass in toast. He clicked his glass against hers, and they both drank. “Although I never expected them to fall in love. But thanks again, Zack, for telling me about Charli’s newspaper ad. I kept thinking Dylan would be good in security or something like that because of his Army background. I never considered ranching.”

“I’m just glad I saw the ad. I knew, from all the work Dylan had done on your granddad’s ranch and his own place down in Killeen, that managing a place would be perfect for him.”

Again silence engulfed them, and he found himself gazing at Tracy. He should swing the conversation back to Brent, but he had time. Despite her coming a long way from the shy little girl she’d been in junior high, there were times when her pewter eyes seemed insecure with the world around them. She was no longer cross-eyed, which one last surgery had corrected, leaving behind minor farsightedness. The braces she’d worn their early high school years were gone, leaving behind a bright, sincere smile in a face sharp with angles. But she’d grown into her once pointed features. Her lankiness remained, but pregnancy and maturity had rounded her body ever so slightly, making her less waiflike and more willowy. She still was practically flat-chested, but today she obviously wasn’t braless. Her once short dishwater brown hair was now long and streaked with becoming natural-looking highlights of golden brown.

Jolted by his desire to kiss the disconcerted pucker from her lips, he had to look away. He turned to look out the window above the short Coca-Cola themed curtain.

Tracy sucked in a breath. “Logan told me he’s moving to Nashville.”

Zack met her eyes across the table. He didn’t want to talk about his younger brother and his crazy dreams. He didn’t want to make small talk with her at all. Or any other kind of speech. He wanted her in his bed, with only the soft moans and mewls of a woman in the throes of passion coming from her.

To hide his growing desire, he busied himself with drinking his Coke. “Actually, he informed the family last night. I personally think he’s being a fool. The kid’s a lawyer, and a damned good one. He makes a seven-figure salary that’s closer to eight.” He shook his head and pursed his lips. “I hope he can make it, but out of every hundred hayseeds who fly into that town thinking they’ll sing their way into fame and fortune, only one makes it. And he’s already had that chance.”

“Who knows? Logan might be that one out of a hundred this time around.”

Something about the tone of her voice had him meeting her gaze.

“But I’d suggest you never call him a hayseed to his face.”

“Whether he likes to admit it or not, Logan Cartwright is a hayseed as much as I am. He might make it big, but I’m not holding my breath. I’ll bet in six months, instead of making record deals, Logan is back making cheating husbands and gold-digging wives wish they had never crossed paths with attorney Logan Cartwright.” When she narrowed her eyes at his obvious doubts concerning his brother’s talent, he said, “I’m not saying that he can’t sing, because I know he can.”

Tracy’s ruffled feathers settled, and she smiled. “Unlike his brother.”

“Hey! I can sing.”

She raised a perfectly arched brow. “I remember your attempts at singing, Zack Cartwright. It’s a wonder I didn’t run in the other direction.”

He grinned at the mention of a particular date when he’d attempted to sing a Garth Brooks song to her. “Okay, I can’t hold a tune in a bucket. I guess I take after my old man. In my defense,
Ain’t Going Down ‘Til the Sun Comes Up
isn’t an easy song to sing, though I remember getting the results I was aiming for.”

Zelda took that moment to deliver their hamburgers and fries, but he didn’t even acknowledge the woman. He was too busy fighting the image of him and Tracy tangled together in the soft grass by the lake on his ranch. From the intensity of the storm clouds in her eyes, he got the impression Tracy remembered the same wild encounter.

When Zelda left, Tracy reached for the ketchup–the exact same time he made a grab for the bottle. His fingers brushed hers. The soft satin of her warm skin was like touching an electrified fence.

She pulled her hand away and cleared her throat. As she tucked her hair behind her ears again, she cooled the rising heat by asking, “Any leads in who’s stealing the cattle?”

Swallowing hard, he set the bottle before her with a smile.

She tentatively reached for it and murmured, “Thanks.”

Once she finished with the ketchup, he dumped some on his own french fries. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh.”

He looked up from his plate.

Tracy put down a fry and quickly averted her eyes. “What did you want to know?”

“Do you know anything about Jake’s truck driving gig?” Zack picked up his burger and took a bite.

Tracy took a deep breath and picked up her fork. “Henrietta Parker was in the shop yesterday for her bi-weekly wash and set. I asked her about Brent, and she wasn’t too nice in her comments. But she never is, concerning her grandsons.”

Zack set his burger back on the plate. “What did she have to say?”

“Henrietta doesn’t know how he can afford that truck either. He apparently is still mooching off her and his mother. He lives at Sandy’s until his mother gets fed up with his lazy butt, and then he goes to Henrietta’s for a few weeks. Promises to help her out around the house, but he never does. As far as I can tell from what Bobby has said, Jake must be doing well. He’s been buying new furniture for the trailer and can afford to sue me for custody. But what I don’t get is, if it’s so lucrative, why is he still running the garage?”