Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter) (11 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Raye

BOOK: Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter)
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“All right,” he said after weighing the idea for a few seconds. “You can help with her schoolwork and oversee her piano and French lessons, but I still want you to stay as far away from Helen as possible.”
“No problem. Consider me invisible.” Which wasn’t so far from the truth, at least for her chest. “I’m going to earn every penny of that money, you’ll see.”
“Oh, I plan on seeing, all right. Two weeks is a long time. You’ll only be able to hide from Helen for so long before she gets ahold of you. Then it’ll be showtime.”
“Meaning?”
“We’re still on for our nightly lessons. You’re fine in the academic department, but we need to work on your social skills.” He shrugged. “And since we’ll be working so closely together, we need to get something straight.”
“No kissing.”
“No kissing, no questions about kissing, or any other related topic. Strictly business.”
“Whatever you say, boss. But you’re the one who keeps kissing me.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Speaking of which, if you want a business relationship, why do you keep doing that—”
“Cut it out. I’m serious. No more questions. And don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like that.” He gestured toward her. “With your eyes so wide, your lips parted like that and that expression.”
“What expression—”
He growled and spun on his heel, and though Lucky had no firsthand experience, she had the inexplicable feeling that she’d just seen her first sexually frustrated man. And that she’d been the responsible party.
About time!
 
LUCKY SPENT the next several evenings with Tyler, and though she broached the subject of their kisses many times, he never failed to cut her off, and he was careful to keep his distance. Drat the man. How was she supposed to get this man-woman stuff down if he insisted on being so stubborn? And grouchy?
“You could smile once in a while. Your face won’t break,” she told him Wednesday.
“Remember all this stuff I’m teaching you and I’ll smile.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” Lucky fidgeted in her chair.
“Just concentrate. You don’t have to memorize every word. I just want you to have a general view of Helen’s world and what she expects. Now, everyone who’s anyone lives in River Oaks.”
“I know the area like the back of my hand.” Lucky launched into a description of streets and landmarks and Tyler frowned.
“Forget potholes and stop signs. You need to be familiar with some of the prominent families, such as...”
The list of Houston’s elite seemed endless, but Lucky memorized every name, trivia about the families, Helen’s charity contacts, and of course, Smithston. Not that Tyler had to tell Lucky anything about the elite school. It was all Helen talked about at dinner every night.
“Smithston is simply divine,” Helen declared over pot roast on Thursday. “All three of Louise’s daughters graduated from Smithston, and all of them married very well, I might add.”
“That wouldn’t be Louise Cromwell, would it?” Lucky stared across the table at Helen, watching her eyes widen in surprise. It was now or never. Either she shared some of her new knowledge or her brain was bound to explode from overload.
“Why, yes, it would. Don’t tell me you know Louise?”
“Not personally, mind you. But she did a wonderful job with that fund-raiser for the Houston Ballet last season.” Lucky smiled and Helen frowned.
“But I thought you were in Scotland last season?”
So much for showing off. “Well, uh, yes, but good news travels fast, and it was such a worthy cause.”
Helen stared at Lucky for a long moment, those dark eyes assessing. Finally she smiled. In the nick of time, too. Lucky could feel the sweat beads about to pop out on her forehead.
“Louise is a genius, and one of my dearest friends. Perhaps she could help me with all this trouble I’m having with the museum fund-raiser. I simply have to find a new location. I’ve been on the phone every day, all day, and each place I call is already booked.”
“Guthrie’s Barbecue. They do fund-raisers,” Ulysses declared. “Hosted the Texas Cattlemen Association’s annual cook-off last year. Got the best ribs this side of the Rio Grande.”
“Barbecue? Really, Ulysses. I need a ballroom, a concert hall, something appropriate for the affair.”
“Affair, my behind.”
“Now that is uncalled for,” Helen huffed. “Do you have to be so vulgar every time you open your mouth?”
“No, I can eat, too. But it’s more fun ribbin’ you. You know, you got a vein the size of Texas that pokes out on your forehead when you’re mad—”
“Dad!” Tyler cut in.
“Uh, not that I can see it, mind you.” Ulysses groped for his water glass, his swollen red eyes fixed on the air in front of him. “My old sight still hasn’t come back. But I remember clear as day how it did look.”
“Rude,” Helen said scornfully. “That’s what you are.”
“Snooty. That’s what you are.”
“Buzzard.”
“Old fuddy-duddy.”
And the insults went on and on with Tyler playing referee, Bennie smiling and Lucky doing her best not to laugh. As stressful as this nanny business was, it was the most fun Lucky had had in a long time, which spoke volumes for her lousy social life. But no more. In just over a week she returned home, richer and wiser, and she was going to nab the first available good-looking man she found.
Hurry! Hurry! her hormones chanted. If only her heart were half as enthusiastic.
 
WHILE LUCKY’S NIGHTS were filled with facts and headaches, her days were spent with Bernadette. Helen, thank goodness, was preoccupied with getting her gala back on track. The moment her plans fell into place, something happened to upset them and she was back on the phone. First, it was the location. Then she spent hours looking for a florist. Then the band cancelled. She stayed so busy she spared Lucky only a few harried glances. Thanks to Tyler.
He’d told Lucky he was a well-connected investment banker, a very successful one, but that image of him never quite fit with the rugged cowboy she saw day after day. As much trouble as Helen was having, however, Lucky had no doubt that Tyler had friends in very high places.
Helen’s preoccupation gave Lucky and Bernadette some time to themselves, to study and do other things Lucky deemed were ladylike endeavors.
“I don’t see why we have to do this,” Bennie said one day. “I hate high heels and you hate high heels and I’m never going to wear them and you shouldn’t, either, otherwise you’ll wind up with bunions and calluses and all kinds of gross stuff like that.”
“We’re not learning this because we have to, Bennie. We’re doing it because we want to. For your dad. All this is really important to him.”
Bennie gave a heavy sigh and nodded. “Oh, all right. For Daddy.” She balanced the book on her head, stepped into the inch-high shoes and wobbled across the room. She also started wearing a dress every evening to dinner, and putting in extra time at the piano. Score one for Lucky the nanny.
Now, if Lucky the woman had been half as successful. Tyler—damn his stubborn, professional hide—had gone from flirty and fun to stuffy and preoccupied, and Lucky was back to fantasizing about Buster and push-up bras.
 
“STELLA, how’s my granny?” Lucky asked Friday evening when she phoned the cab company.
“Fine—”
“It’s been a full week and I’m going crazy without you,” Buster declared, ripping the phone from Stella’s hand.
“Really?” She smiled. “You miss me?”
“Hell, yes! The Kangaroos creamed us. Stella’s game stinks worse than Georgie Petrie’s bowling shoes.”
“Stella?”
“She filled in for you. We had to have another person or the league would’ve disqualified us. When are you coming back? Because I lost a load of money, not to mention there’s this new girl at the shoe counter that I want to impress, and losing isn’t exactly impressive...”
“You missed my
bowling?
” Her smile dissolved and she had the sudden vision of herself bowling a perfect strike with Buster’s face as the tenth pin. “Rest assured, I’ll be back soon,” she vowed with tight lips. “How’s my granny?”
“Fine. I ain’t had my visit yet, my turn’s tomorrow, but between all of us, somebody’s looked in on her every day.”
“Tell everybody thanks for me.”
“Talk is cheap. If you’re really thankful, get your carcass back here. We play the Munson Cab Magpies tomorrow night and...”
Buster went on about the new shoe girl and the whopping fifty bucks he had riding on the next game.
Forget Buster, she told herself once she managed to hang up a few minutes later. Who cared if he missed her? She didn’t.
And she certainly didn’t care one way or another if Tyler Grant kissed her again, the jerk. She would just get some practice somewhere else. Tyler wasn’t the only man in the world.
At least that’s what her hormones—those vocal devils—kept saying. If only the rest of her could agree.
9
“L
UCKY, I’m in deep trouble!” Bernadette stood in the doorway of Lucky’s bedroom Saturday morning. “Grandmother saw Marlon in my room. I told her I was baby-sitting him for you and I think she bought it, but anyway, she got this funny look in her eyes. I think she wants to take him back to Houston and have him made into shoes!”
“He’s a three-inch lizard.” Lucky put aside her screwdriver and stared at the antique projector, fully intact and operational once again. “What’s she going to make? Barbie shoes?”
“Please,” Bernadette pleaded. “He needs a new mommy.”
At the distraught look on her face, Lucky nodded and found herself quickly cradling the limp lizard. “I’m not really the nurturing type. I’ve got a houseful of dead plants, small children cry and hit me with candy and... Oh Geez, I think he’s really dead this time.” Yuck. She was holding a dead lizard. Okay, so dead might be good in this case. A quick flush down the toilet and her mommy days would be over.
“He’s just tired.” Bernadette peered at Marlon, then poked him with a finger. “He sleeps a lot.”
“I don’t know,” she said, then Marlon promptly blinked, killing the toilet fantasy. “Okay, so he’s not dead, but I still don’t know about this mommy business—”
“Bernadette! I’m choosing flowers for the centerpieces and I would like your opinion.”
“Quick,” Bennie said, yanking Lucky to her feet. “Get out of here and take Marlon to safety.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
“Grandmother loves to wear dead animals. She has an entire closetful of them. I won’t let her add Marlon to the list.”
“Okay.” Lucky let Bennie pull her out the door and shove her down the hallway. “But you owe me, big time.”
“Anything you want.”
“Tea lessons. All refined ladies drink tea. I found a great book about it in your dad’s library, complete with a video demonstrating appropriate tea behavior.”
Helen’s footsteps sounded closer and Bennie nodded frantically. “Anything, just take a hike for a little while and if Grandmother asks, you never even saw Marlon.”
“Don’t I wish,” Lucky said once Bennie had disappeared. “But I guess we’re stuck with each other.” She slid Marlon into her pocket and headed out to the barn to kill some time.
“Dadblasted hired hands. If you want something done right, you got to do it yourself.”
She turned to see Ulysses standing in an empty horse stall, a shovel in one hand.
Uh-oh. She started to back out, but Ulysses turned his angry red eyes in her direction.
“Hold it right there, girlie. You spyin’ on me?”
“Uh, no. I was just taking a walk.”
“Likely story.” He turned back to shovel a pile of manure. “Well, hell’s bells,” he grumbled over his shoulder. “Stop spyin’ and come on over here and give me a hand. This barn needs to be cleaned out from top to bottom.”
“Should you be doing all of this in your condition?”
“I’m as fit as a fiddle, missy.”
“But your eyes...”
“I worked this ranch my entire life and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stop now. Jed and Tyler are overworked as it is. Hands are scarce. Here—” he motioned her toward a water hose “—make yours useful. That concrete aisle needs hosing.”
“But—”
“Ain’t afraid of a little work, are you, city gal?”
“Work, no. Lunatic old men with shovels, yes.”
He glared at her for a long, silent moment, and Lucky barely resisted the urge to turn and run. She should. He had a shovel and he hated her. He could bop her on the head and bury her and no one would be the wiser.
Except maybe Bennie. Yeah, the little girl was sure to miss Marlon who’d be six feet under since he was tucked away in Lucky’s pocket. She stiffened and held Ulysses’s stare. Just let the old guy try to bop her. She’d shatter his precious projector all over again. Then he could put it back together himself.
After what seemed like eternity, he chuckled. Okay, so maybe the old geezer wasn’t so bad and, of course, she could never destroy something she’d put hours into restoring.
He directed Lucky to hose down the concrete walkway that ran between the stalls, then set about shoveling more manure from the dirt floor of the stall. They worked for the next fifteen minutes in companionable silence and Lucky actually started to enjoy herself. Other than the smell—
and what smell!—
she rather liked having something to do besides the lady lessons she’d been torturing Bennie and herself with. She sprayed her way toward the end of the aisle, then turned to work her way back up.
“What’s going on in here?”
Her head jerked up and she saw the unmistakable shadow of Tyler Grant in the barn doorway. She heard Ulysses’s shovel hit the dirt a second before he walked out of the stall and straight into her line of fire. The spray hit him full force and he stumbled backward.
She let go of the handle and the water dwindled. “Oh, Geez, are you all right—”
“Help, boy, she’s killing me!”
What?
Tyler sent her a murderous look, rushed to Ulysses’s side and helped the man who stumbled and groped along the aisle as if he couldn’t see two inches in front of his face. “Dad, what the devil is going on?”
“I heard a ruckus and I come out here to find this city gal makin’ a mess out of my barn. I tried to stop her, son, but you saw what happened. Little filly’s got a temper and I couldn’t get within two feet of her.”
He was lying. The man was lying, and Tyler believed him!
“Never ever wander out of the house again without somebody with you, Dad.” Tyler helped Ulysses toward the barn door.
“What’s all the ruckus?” Mabel met them just inside the doorway. “Ulysses? Are you all right?”
“Thanks to my boy here. You saved me, son. I don’t know what an old man like me would do without you.” Ulysses put on his most pathetic pout for Mabel. “Honey, my backside aches something fierce and I sure am hungry.”
Tyler handed Ulysses over to Mabel and turned on Lucky, a frown carving his face.
“You didn’t believe that, did you?” she demanded. “Why, I never heard a bigger bunch of...” Her words dwindled when Ulysses motioned frantically to her from just behind Tyler, and suddenly the situation became crystal clear. An act. A poor helpless act, and a pretty pitiful one. And Tyler believed it.
“Go on,” Tyler growled at Lucky. “You were saying?”
“I never heard a bigger... Oh, all right. You caught me.”
Sucker
, her conscience chided. Okay, so she was. A lizard-sitting sucker who had a heart.
Ulysses smiled and disappeared with Mabel, leaving Lucky to face Tyler on her own. Showdown at the OK Corral.
“Are you crazy?” he bellowed. “You could have killed my dad with that damned water hose! I know you don’t like him, but—”
“Listen, buddy.” She planted her hands on her hips. Suckers had their limits like everybody else. “It was an accident Here I was trying to help out and he walked into my line of fire.” She gripped the handle and aimed the hose at him. “Just like you’re doing right now.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?”
“Dammit to hell!” he sputtered, arms raised to ward off the sudden spray of water.
Lucky soaked him good from head to boots before her courage faded and her lust took over. The hose went limp in her hands.
Water slid down Tyler’s tanned face, the strong column of his throat. His drenched T-shirt molded to the hard muscles of his torso. Geez, he looked good wet. Too good. Too mad. He shoved dripping hair from his face and stalked toward her.
He reached her in three strides, gripped her upper arms and Lucky clamped her eyes shut. She couldn’t stand the sight of blood, especially her own, and Tyler had murder on his mind.
He kissed her full on the mouth.
His lips were hard, insistent, not that they had to be. She softened immediately, her lips parting for the searching heat of his tongue. He devoured her for one fast and furious moment before he broke the contact to stare down at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes.
“I’m crazy,” he muttered. Then he released her and stalked out of the barn, leaving Lucky dazed and confused and on fire.
She took a deep breath, turned the hose on herself and let the water fly.
 
OF ALL THE CABDRIVERS in Houston, Tyler had to wind up with Lucky. And she thought she was the unlucky one?
His tomboyish ugly duckling had turned into a swan. An intelligent, compassionate swan who got along with his daughter, which wasn’t the problem in itself.
He
was the problem. The way his heart did that funny double thump when she smiled at him, and the way he caught himself smiling back when he’d already decided not to, the way he leaned closer when she passed by him, the way his palms itched to reach out, to touch her. Hell, the way he had touched her, kissed her.
It was her fault. She was an expert at seducing men. She had to be or he wouldn’t be falling so hard, so damned fast.
Or
getting
hard so damned fast, he thought later that evening when Lucky met him in the library for their lesson. Just the sight of her in cutoff blue-jean shorts and a white T-shirt pumped his blood faster. He tore his gaze from her and concentrated on uncorking two wine bottles.
“What’s this?” She plopped down in the chair while he perched on the edge of the desk. “I thought you just wanted me to have a general knowledge of wines, in case the subject came up. I didn’t know there was going to be an actual quiz.”
“One week down, but we’ve still got a full seven days to go. I thought if you wowed Helen by choosing a bottle of wine, it would win you a few brownie points. Now,” he said, indicating one of the bottles, “this is a white chardonnay.”
“Chicken or seafood,” she said with a pleased smile.
“Not bad, but we need details.” He poured the pale liquid into a glass and held it up to the lamp for a quick study. “Light in color, almost like a sauvignon blanc.” He held the rim to his nose. “Green apples and vanilla.” He took a sip and savored the subtle burst of flavor. “Soft and fragrant...” He smiled at her. “Overall, a very well-balanced wine.” He poured her a glass. “Your turn.”
She took a tentative sip and went through the spiel.
“Good. Now, this chardonnay will be served with the salad and soup. After that,” he said, reaching for the next bottle, “It’s on to the main course and this 1991 Beringer Private Reserve cabernet sauvignon.” He recited more tasting notes then handed her a glass. “Try it.”
Taking a deep breath, she sipped the wine. She didn’t miss a word or a gesture, the recitation ending on a huge hiccup. “Oops, sorry.” Another hiccup. “I guess my system’s not really used to this. I’ll try not to do that tomorrow night.”
She smiled, and for once the library’s paneled walls didn’t seem so gloomy, or the old movie paraphernalia a painful reminder. Not with Lucky across from him.
She sat cross-legged in her chair, her bare feet curled beneath her, her face free and clear of makeup, her hair pulled back in a simple hairband. Her eyes were warm chocolate, her cheeks glowing from the wine she’d consumed, and Tyler knew he’d never seen a woman look more beautiful.
She hiccuped again and took another drink. “This isn’t bad.”
“It shouldn’t be at sixty dollars a bottle.”
She choked on her next mouthful. “Sixty dollars?”
“Don’t look so shocked. A first-growth Château Margeaux or Chateau Latour Bordeaux can go for two hundred dollars.”
“It is good,” she admitted, taking another sip. She stared at him for a long moment. “You know, I’m trying really hard to picture you in an expensive suit, forking over two hundred dollars for a bottle of wine, but I can’t. You seem more like the beer-drinking, hell-raising type.”
“I am. I just tried to pretend for a while that I wasn’t.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I like the hell-raising type, though I don’t know much about the beer part. I’ve never tried beer.” She sipped her wine, hiccuped and smiled. “But this stuff is pretty good.”
It was all he could do to keep from leaning forward and tasting her wine-wet lips. Just a leisurely trail of his tongue across her full bottom lip... Today, he’d been too worked up to take it slow. And he wanted it slow.
Hell, he wanted it fast, too.
Slow, fast, any way he could get it with her.
Her
. The realization hit him like a lightning bolt straight to his groin. As if that wasn’t enough to fry his control, she decided to make matters worse.
“Why don’t you kiss me?” Before he could answer, she stood and leaned into him. “Never mind. I’ll kiss you.” Her lips were soft and warm and full.
“Why did you do that?” he asked when she pulled away.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day since the barn, then you didn’t kiss me, so I kissed you and—”

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