Texas Rose Forever (Texas Rose Ranch #1) (16 page)

As long as she kept everything light, everything would be okay.

“I’m going to need some mood music.” From his back pocket, he pulled out his iPhone, tapped an icon, and Meghan Trainor belted out “Lips Are Movin.”

“We need to talk about your choice in music.” He seemed like a perfectly sane person until he picked a playlist.

“Music is a reflection of who I am.”

“Exactly, and you’re not a twelve-year-old girl. Since music is so personal, I’m not going to suggest that you pick something more age appropriate, I’m merely pointing out that if you went to a concert for one of your favorite singers, you’d be the creepy guy in the hoody driving the sketchy panel van.” She shrugged. “Sorry, I gotta call them as I see them.”

“What can I say? I have layers.” He turned the master shower lever on and water poured out of all seventeen showerheads.

She sat cross-legged on the floor. From this angle, the shower looked like a car wash for human bodies. “Aren’t you supposed to be removing those layers?”

He moved his hips to some imaginary beat that clearly had nothing to do with the music playing. “How about these moves?”

She leaned closer to get a better look. “Are you milking a cow or flipping me off? I can’t tell.”

He spun around on the ball of one foot and then swayed a little. “Sorry, that spin was a little too fast. I’m a little dizzy.”

“Thank God, I thought you might be having a seizure.” She reached up to the counter and turned off Meghan. “I think you need to unbutton and unzip and show me your goods. Maybe if you do a good job, I’ll join you.”

She could separate sex from love. Men did it every single day. Today, she was going to think like a man. Then again, all they thought about was food, boobs, and sex, so what should she think about the other twenty-three and a half hours of the day?

CHAPTER 16

An hour later, Cinco opened the door to his tiny closet and looked for something nice to wear. He was just taking CanDee to Cranky Frank’s in Fredericksburg, but he still wanted to look nice. Nothing but a sea of blue jeans and T-shirts. It looked like he was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt.

She had gone back to the cottage to get ready and he was picking her up.

He pulled out a pair of jeans that looked less worn out than the others. Should he iron and starch the jeans like Rowdy? He shook his head. His brother’s jeans had looked ridiculous and besides, he wasn’t sure if he had an iron. Vaguely, he remembered seeing one somewhere downstairs a couple of years ago, or that might have been at his parents’ house. Naomi had a collection of antique irons, but he’d eBayed those puppies years ago.

No, these jeans would do just the way they were. He returned to the closet and pulled out a nice and fairly new red Ralph Lauren T-shirt and laid it on the bed next to the jeans.

He glanced back at the closet. It was overstuffed with clothes. Maybe it was time to clear out some of the old stuff that he didn’t wear. Who knew, after everything was sorted out, maybe there would be some extra room for CanDee. It sure would be easier if she moved a few things over here. That way, she wouldn’t have to waste so much time driving back and forth.

He looked at the dresser. He could probably carve out a little space in there too. Women had lots of stuff and needed lots of storage space. Later, he’d get to work on cleaning things out.

Fifteen minutes later, he was dressed and parking his truck in front of the cottage. The sun was setting, creating quite a show of colors.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught motion. A small man appeared to be sneaking around to the back of the cottage. Someone was after CanDee. He jumped out of the truck and ran after the man, tackling him.

“Son, get off me.” Lefty rolled out from beneath him. “What the hell?”

“What are you doing?” Cinco sat back on his haunches and brushed grass and dirt from his shirt. So much for looking good for CanDee.

“I’m looking for the key to the golf cart. She hid it. It ain’t in the cottage, I checked. She’s got to have hidden it outside.” Lefty got on all fours and crawled around the grass looking for the key.

“You’ll never find it.” CanDee stood tall on the front porch with her arms crossed. “You shouldn’t have given me the runaround.”

Lefty’s mouth twisted in a snarl. “Rules is rules.” He rolled back on his knees and slowly stood. “It don’t matter, I just remembered I got a second set of keys.”

“You mean this?” CanDee held up a key ring with one solitary key on it.

Lefty’s eye got huge and he drew in a deep, slow breath. “You broke into my office?”

“I did not, the door was open. You happened to not be there. I intended to leave you a note, but I saw the spare keys and thought that sent the message just fine.” CanDee grinned as she waggled the key back and forth.

“You . . . I’m of a mind to . . . oh.” Lefty stomped around trying to find the right words. He turned back to CanDee and pointed to his left eye. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

CanDee blew him an air kiss.

Lefty growled in return.

Cinco stepped in front of Lefty and put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Why not just give her permission to use the golf cart?”

“I’d sooner eat my own kidneys for breakfast.” Lefty squared his shoulders. “Stay out of this, son, it’s between me and the hellcat.”

“I think Gina”—she pointed to the golf cart—“is looking a little too white. She needs some color, maybe something in a pink racing stripe?”

Cinco turned Lefty around. “CanDee, stay on the porch while I walk Lefty back to the barn.” Cinco dropped his voice to a whisper. “Just remember that she’s a guest at our ranch. Mom invited her.”

“She’s a demon from hell,” Lefty yelled.

“He started it,” CanDee yelled back.

“Now, children, let’s play nice.” Cinco practically pulled Lefty toward the barn. He knew exactly how his mother felt every time he got into a fight with one of his brothers.

“She’s crazy.” Lefty growled out. “Rules is rules. All she had to do was take the driving test.”

“Two years from now?” Cinco understood her frustration. He kind of liked that CanDee wasn’t a rule follower.

“What? I’m a very busy man.” Lefty’s tone sounded a little less angry.

“She’s a guest and needed transportation. Try to think of it from her side.” Cinco knew the old man wouldn’t, but it was worth a try.

“She doesn’t have a side. Rules is rules.” Lefty’s hands fisted at his side. “It’s on now.”

“Bring it.” CanDee yelled. Clearly she’d overheard Lefty.

Cinco shot her a dirty look and she smiled and waved like she hadn’t seen it.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the barn. Cinco slid the door open and let Lefty go in first.

“Son, just because I’m going after your girlfriend don’t mean I don’t like her. She’s a hellcat and every man needs a woman with a little hellcat in her.” Lefty sighed long and hard. “It might be best if you stay out of this.”

“Okay, but no bodily harm or property damage.” Cinco wagged his index finger at Lefty. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” He grinned. “Just some good, clean fun between two worthy adversaries.”

He hadn’t seen Lefty this excited about anything in a long time, and Cinco had a feeling that CanDee could give as good as she got. Still, he just might give her a heads-up.

“Go get her, but don’t cross any lines because I plan on keeping her around for a very long time.” That’s not exactly what he’d meant to say, but it was true. He liked who he was around CanDee, and what they had together was what he’d thought love was supposed to be.

Lefty rocked back on his heels and studied Cinco. “You’re sweet on her. I mean, I know you’ve got the hots for her, who wouldn’t, but it’s more than that.” He cocked his head to one side and nodded. “I like you with her. Y’all complement each other. You’re starting to act more like yourself—well, how you acted before Naomi.” The way he said
Naomi
sounded a lot like
crack whore
.

The older man held out his hands like a traffic cop. “Don’t get me wrong, CanDee’s still going down, but I’m glad you’ll be there to pick her up.”

Cinco’s eyes narrowed. “Just so long as it doesn’t go beyond good, clean fun. I don’t want to have to step in.”

If he chose sides, he’d have to take the one against the man who’d been like a grandfather to him.

Lefty grinned. “I’m harmless.”

“Yeah, which one of your ex-wives would agree?” Cinco turned on his heel, walked out the open door, and pulled it closed. Maybe he’d warn CanDee about Lefty, but part of him wanted to see what she’d do. It was going to be one hell of a ride, seeing what kind of trouble those two could get into.

He walked over to the cottage where CanDee was still waiting on the porch.

“What’s Lefty’s net worth?” CanDee stepped into his favorite high heels.

“Why, you thinking about extortion?” Even though he’d told her
tonight was casual, she’d worn a light-blue short cotton dress. He liked that
she was girly. Her hair was curled and her lips looked like shiny peaches.

“Nope. I was just wondering if he could afford a contract killer.” She leaned down and grabbed a brown purse that was the same color as her shoes.

“He promised me that no blood will be shed.” He hopped up the two steps to meet her and offered her his arm. “What about you?”

She took his arm. “What about me what?”

“Do you agree to no bloodshed?” He opened the passenger-side door for her and helped her up. He closed the door and walked around the hood to the driver side and climbed up.

“There are many levels of civil. I’m sure that I can find one of them that works for me.” She pulled her seat belt around her and clicked it. “No promises on the bloodshed, but I’ll try to keep it Band-Aid-sized.”

“I guess that’s as good as I’m going to get.” He could practically see the mischievous wheels turning in her head. “Just remember, he’s an old man.”

“And I’m a helpless female.” She grinned. “So, after dinner, are we going to make out in the backseat?”

“I swear you have a one-track mind.” He liked that she was so into him. Every time she came on to him or even looked across the room and undressed him with her eyes, she made him feel spectacular and sexy and wanted. Naomi had never made him feel this wanted, even in the beginning. There was something satisfying knowing that CanDee wanted him as much as he wanted her.

“I’m only here five more weeks. I have to work in all the sex that I can since I can’t seem to find a man in Austin worth dating.” She adjusted the air conditioning vents to her liking.

She was so matter-of-fact. For some reason, that hurt. Knowing that she already had one foot out the door didn’t sit right with him. Naomi had hated living at the ranch. She’d claimed she wanted them to move to the big city so she could have culture, but all she’d wanted was to be closer to her boyfriend.

“Ranch life a little too slow for you?” The words had come out harsher than he’d wanted.

“No, I love the ranch. The air is clean, no traffic, and”—she rolled down the window—“the stars go on and on.”

She leaned back in and hit the button that rolled the window up.

“Then why are you in such a hurry to leave it?” Why was he mad? He knew she wasn’t going to stay forever, but it pissed him the hell off that possibly staying hadn’t even occurred to her.

“I’m not, but this isn’t my home. I have a life in Austin and commitments that I have to keep. Virgil and Virginia Stanley of Bullard, Texas, want me to write their genealogy.” She watched the stars from the windshield.

He knew she had a life that didn’t include him, but he wanted her to include him. “I know old Virgil. Nice man, great cattleman.”

“Good to know. He’s anxious for me to get there.” Slowly, she turned her head. “Where is Bullard?”

“Between Tyler and Jacksonville. East Texas.” It was a beautiful part of Texas.

“I need to meet with him sometime soon. He doesn’t do video chatting and according to his wife, he believes that cell phones are evil.”

“I could go with you. We could make a long weekend of it. I’d love to see old Virgil again.” His voice sounded slightly desperate. “I’ve got some business I’d like to discuss with him and East Texas is beautiful in spring.”

He’d have to make up some business to discuss with Virgil.

“Sounds like a plan. Now . . .” She reached down on the floorboard for her purse and pulled out a book. It was one of Edith’s journals. She’d marked a page with a piece of paper. “I have some questions about your grandfather.”

She opened the journal. “Okay, so there was a fire in 1915 that killed everyone except Edith, Mel, and your grandfather, who they called Tres. I’m assuming because he was Lacy Kendall Rose III?”

“That’s right. Don’t call my father Cuatro because he hates it.” He liked watching her work, especially when she was on to something.

“Bear fits him so much better.” She scanned the journal page. “Here’s what is strange. The night of the fire was a little over a week after Tres turned fifteen. He was badly scarred on his face and hands. Edith was very meticulous in her journal entries, but on the summer kitchen doorjamb where she measured and recorded everyone’s height, she must have made a mistake. On his fifteenth birthday when she measured him, he was three inches taller than he was two weeks later when she talks about making him some new clothes. I guess his burned up in the fire.”

“Edith was meticulous all right, but it sounds like she got things mixed up.” He flicked on his blinker to turn onto the county road. “Tres moved in with her and Mel after the fire. They nursed him back to health.”

“I know.” CanDee held up the journal. “Edith spends a lot of time on it. Apparently his burns were pretty severe and they thought he wasn’t going to make it. I get the impression that Edith would have liked to have a child and she thought of Tres as her own.”

“PawPaw Tres died when I was little, but I remember the faded scars. They covered his face and his arms, but I wasn’t frightened of them. He always wore denim overalls and a pearl-buttoned work shirt. He was fun. Always had candy in his pockets and loved to talk about World War II.” His grandfather made him smile. He’d loved doing anything with PawPaw.

“I wish I could have met him. I bet he had great stories to tell.” Her eyes lit up. “I would have loved to ask him about Mel and Edith.”

“He said once that Mel was rough and tough and cussed like a man unless she was around Edith, who didn’t tolerate bad language. Also, there was something about him getting drunk or coming home drunk.” Cinco searched his memory. “Oh yes, for his seventeenth birthday, some of the ranch hands gave him his first taste of whiskey and he came home drunk. Well, Edith didn’t like that one bit, so she marched over to the bunkhouse, took the bottle of whiskey the men were drinking, turned on her heel, and marched right back to the house. Since Tres had told her that he liked the way being drunk felt, she encouraged him to drink some more. Long story short, he drank most of the rest of the bottle and passed out. The next morning he had the hangover from hell, so of course Edith set him behind the push lawn mower and made him cut acres of grass in the hot, blazing summer sun. When the vomiting started, she had no pity. From that moment on, my grandfather never touched another drop of alcohol. He couldn’t even stomach beer.”