Texas Rose Forever (Texas Rose Ranch #1) (15 page)

CHAPTER 15

CanDee was not waiting by the door for Cinco to come home; she was merely standing there by accident. The fact that she’d been accidentally watching out the windows by the front door for the last thirty minutes was in no way an admission that she’d missed him this afternoon.

A guitar riff trilled from the parlor. Grammie’s ringtone. She walked into the parlor and picked up her phone. After sliding her finger over the screen to answer the call, she said, “Hello.”

She walked back to her post by the front door.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Grammie yelled over what sounded like a leaf blower. Her grandmother thought it was frivolous to only do one thing at a time, so her life was about multitasking even when it didn’t make any sense. Like calling someone while blowing leaves or eating a sandwich while taking a shower.

CanDee held the phone in front of her mouth and screamed, “I can barely hear you!”

“I’m working on my Harley. Hold on.” Grammie turned off the engine.

“Harley?” CanDee shook her head. “Since when do you own a motorcycle? And why are you working on it? You can barely put gas in the car. The last time you worked on the car, you tried to air up the tires and ended up letting all of the air out of them.”

It was too far for CanDee to drive over and rescue Grammie if the
motorcycle fell on her and broke every bone in her eighty-pound body. While CanDee was an Amazonian, Grammie was a pigmy. Even though
they had the same eyes, people still didn’t understand how they were related.

“Me and the girls from the coven have started up a motorcycle club. We’re
the Westside Witches. Unfortunately we spent all of our money on these cool black leather jackets, so we had to pool what was left and buy one Harley. We trade off weeks.” There was a clicking noise on the other end of the phone that sounded like one of those wrenches with ball bearings used by mechanics.

When it came to Grammie, nothing shocked her anymore.

CanDee knew she was going to regret asking, but she couldn’t help herself. “What exactly are you doing to the motorcycle?”

“Customizing. This new muffler will increase the horsepower and torque and make her roar like a lion.” Grammie banged on something.

“Do you remember the time you bought that build-your-own-helicopter kit off the Internet?” CanDee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You were going to start a tour-Austin-by-air business?”

“That wasn’t my fault. Some parts were missing.” More banging from Grammie’s end. “Besides, I sold that kit for a nice price at my last garage sale.”

CanDee rolled her eyes. There was a sucker born every minute and Grammie had garage sales to prove it.

“I got the muffler from Walmart—how hard can it be?” The banging
stopped. “You don’t happen to know what a rectifier bracket is . . . do you?”

“Sorry.” Grammie might be a strong and independent woman but sometimes
, CanDee thought she may need a keeper. Sometimes structure would be nice, but Grammie didn’t do structure, which was why she’d changed careers like other people changed socks.

“Well, that’s not why I called. Just wanted to remind you about tomorrow.” The banging started up again. “It’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of your parents’ death.”

CanDee sucked on her top lip. She’d lost track of time. She really should go back to Austin and spend the day with her grandmother. She’d lost her parents when she was four and had only vague memories of them. They’d been out on a date night to the movies and been killed by a drunk driver. Remembering their death day was more about grieving for Grammie than it was for her. There were times when she felt sad that she didn’t know them well enough to grieve for them. Growing up, she’d often felt bad that she didn’t feel worse.

It was only about a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Grammie’s from here. “I can leave in an hour or so and be there—”

“No, stay put. The Westside Witches are coming over for a campout in the backyard and then tomorrow we’re taking a Hill Country ride in your parents’ honor.” Grammie heaved a sigh like she’d just picked up something heavy.

“How does that work with only one Harley?” CanDee watched out the front window for Cinco.

“Well . . . between the five of us, we have one motorcycle, a skateboard, three bicycles, and two cars. Marybeth is going to see if she can borrow her granddaughter’s Vespa but her granddaughter might need it for her pizza delivery job. I’m thinking we take turns on the Harley and maybe change every ten miles or so. Haven’t worked all of the kinks out yet.” Grammie heaved another sigh. “If we make it to Fredericks
burg, I’ll give you a call. Maybe we can meet for lunch or something.”

“Sounds like a plan.” CanDee continued to watch out the front window.

“Listen, honey, I need to go.” The engine cranked on. “It looks like I need to
run to the auto parts store.”

“Okay, I love you.” CanDee should mention Cinco. “I’ve met—”

“I love you too, baby doll. Talk to you soon.” Grammie hung up before CanDee had a chance to tell her about Cinco.

What did it mean that she’d wanted to tell her grandmother about the new man in her life? She straightened and leaned against the wall. It meant about as much as her not waiting by the front door for Cinco.

She glanced up and walked over to the painting of a field covered in bluebonnets that was hung next to the front door. She tilted it to the right so that it was off balance and stepped back in satisfaction. Cinco’s truck pulled into the yard and then parked next to the barn. She busied herself fixing the painting.

Five minutes later the front door opened.

“I’m just fixing this crooked painting.” She turned around.

Cinco was shirtless and sweaty. She drank him in. Nice pecs melted into luscious abs.

“This is a good look for you.” She leaned against the now very straight painting. “You should come home like this more often.”

By home, she meant his home, which was not in any way hers.

He ran a hand over his abs. “You think?”

“Oh yeah.” She reached out, dipped her index finger underneath his belt buckle, and pulled him to her.

“Don’t, I’m all sweaty and gross. I’ll get you dirty.” He braced his arms on the wall on either side of her head.

“No, you won’t.” She ducked under his arm. “Race you to the shower.”

If she kept things light and sexy then maybe her mind wouldn’t realize that she was falling in love with him. At that thought, her right big toe got caught on the first stair and she went down like a sack of potatoes.

“Are you okay?” Cinco knelt at her feet and checked her toe. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

No, that’s not what would end up breaking. Maybe a broken toe was better than a broken heart.

She plastered a fake smile on her face. “I’m fine. Go on up. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m just going to get some ice for my toe.”

She needed a moment to just sit here and figure out when she’d actually started falling for Cinco. Hell, she’d only known him for, like, ten minutes. But wasn’t that just her modus operandi—jumping headfirst into things? No one loved a whirlwind romance more than CanDee, only hers tended to be more hurricanes than whirlwinds. The heartache and devastation in the wake of her other romances should have been enough of a deterrent, but here she was, making the same old mistakes.

“Stay here. I’ll get you some ice.” Cinco sounded concerned.

Well, he wasn’t the only one. She was starting to think of them as a couple. For the love of God, she had an overnight bag here. Why couldn’t she just sit back and enjoy the ride like a normal person? Instead she was obsessing over a stupid bag and maybe some feelings. She needed to stop living in the future and start living in the moment. Trouble was, those moments she’d lived in before had taught her to finally look ahead.

“Here.” Gently he set a small plastic bag of ice directly on her toe. “I think you just stubbed it. That usually hurts like hell.”

The cold bit into her toe, which did hurt like hell.

“Really, I’m fine.” She stood. “I’d call another race to the bathroom, but clearly, my coordination is off.”

Cinco wasn’t like Phillip. Then again, Phillip hadn’t started out as an asshole—that came later and seemed to be her effect on him. What would her effect on Cinco end up being?

“After the shower, how about we go out to dinner? You know, on a real date, like, at a restaurant.” There was a slight hitch in his voice like he was a little bit nervous.

“Sounds wonderful and I like that you asked instead of assumed.” It was her turn to be nervous. “Mind if I sleep here again tonight?”

Here she was, talking herself out of having a relationship with him, and she went and did this? “It’s okay if you don’t want me to, it’s just that you have a wonderful bed.”

“Always using me for my bed. Pretty soon, I’m going to get a complex.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Stay as long as you like. I like coming home to you in my house.”

Damn if that didn’t make her heart go pitter-pat. She tried to convince herself that his comment was more about loneliness instead of sentiment, but rational thinking was new to her. Until recently, she’d led with the heart. Now she was leading with her head.

She had to admit that having someone to talk to instead of herself was nice. For the most part, writing was a solitary profession. She worked from home and if she didn’t make the effort to get out, she’d never see another living soul.

“What is the dress for this date?” They had a date. She had to squelch her inner teenager from jumping up and down.

“Casual. I’m taking you to my favorite barbeque restaurant.” His brow furrowed. “Unless you’d like to go somewhere fancier.”

“Nope. I love meat.” She glanced up at him as they walked. He was watching her with the oddest expression on his face. “What?”

“Nothing.” He continued to watch her.

“Why are you staring at me? Do I have something on my face?” She swiped a hand across her mouth in case there was some chocolate residue from the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup she’d eaten a couple of hours earlier.

“I didn’t realize that I was staring.” He looked away. “It’s just . . . well, you love meat and you’re really good in bed. I feel like I won the lottery.”

She felt her smile all the way down to her toes and then her rational brain kicked in, looking for signs that he was lying. She hated that her second reaction was all about finding the motive behind his comment, but unfortunately, he was paying for the many sins of others.

She didn’t detect anything but sincerity.

“Ditto, Cowboy. You can cook, have a fantastic body, your shower is straight from heaven, and your bed is long enough that I don’t hang off the end. There’s really not much more a girl can ask for.” She smiled up at him.

He liked her, at least in bed. That was more complimentary than any other ex had been.

He waited by the bathroom door for her to walk in first. “So, when do I get to read your novel?”

Her stomach dropped to her knees as her toe caught on the doorjamb and she did a face plant into the white- and black-tiled room. “Damn, I’m clumsy tonight.”

Cinco was at her side and pulling her up before she could get her knees under her. He sat her in his lap.

“Is something wrong?” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“No.” She was not discussing him with . . . well . . . him. He hadn’t
noticed the subject change, that was good. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him
reading her novel—she didn’t want anyone to read it until it was published.

“You seem a little distracted.” His blue eyes held concern.

“I’m good. Sometimes I get lost in work. And my grandmother called.” She shook her head like she was clearing it. “Tomorrow is the twenty-fifth anniversary of my parents’ death.”

He pulled her in for a hug. “I’m so sorry. Why don’t we take tomorrow off? We could go into San Antonio and play tourist.” He patted her back.

Now she felt like an ass. She’d thrown her dead parents under the bus all because she didn’t want to talk about or analyze her feelings for him. Her eyes rolled heavenward in case they wanted to throw some lightning bolts her way for doing something so coldhearted.

“No, I’m good. It’s better for me to stay here and keep my mind busy with work.” The least she could do was not mess up his schedule for tomorrow. “Besides, my grandmother and her coven might take a ride out here. Maybe we could meet them for lunch or something?”

Holy crap, she actually wanted to introduce him to her grandmother. That was long-term-relationship territory.

“I would love that.” He leaned back. “Wait a minute . . . coven?”

“Yeah, Grammie sort of joined a Wicca coven.” It was always so much easier if people knew little to nothing about Grammie before meeting her.

“Cool. Can’t wait to meet her.” His smile was genuine. Her palms began to sweat. She really wanted him to meet Grammie too.

Now she really needed a subject change. “Maybe I should watch you shower?”

One eyebrow rose. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. It is only fair. You let me watch you.”