Crazy for Lovin’ You Page 9

  She wrung out the bottom of her blouse to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. “Playtime is over.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “I have a business to get off the ground. You have a rodeo to put on.”

  “True enough.”

  “We wouldn’t be the brightest bulbs in the chandelier if we let ourselves get carried away.”

  “Can’t argue with you there,” he said. “We’re not allowed to have too much fun.”

  Anytime now he could stop agreeing with her, she thought crossly. “I think I’ll go inside and get some towels. The laundry room is right there,” she said, pointing to the door on the left. At least she wouldn’t trail water through the house.

  “Thanks.”

  Was that all he could say after that bone-melting kiss? Suddenly angry, she wondered what women saw in the strong silent type. The appeal was highly overrated. Give her a man in touch with his feminine side any day. Maybe a man like that would say what was on his mind and a woman would know what was going on. She could do without the guessing games, thank you very much.

  “Taylor?”

  “What?” She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  “I’m going into Destiny this afternoon.”

  “I don’t need to know your comings and goings.”

  “I probably won’t be back for dinner.”

  “Oh.” The anger slid away in the wake of her disappointment. She needed to work on feeling nothing. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  Without looking at him again, she walked toward the house, leaving him behind her by the pool, just like ten years ago. Unlike ten years ago, he’d initiated this kiss.

  So why didn’t she feel a whole lot better about it?

  After cleaning up from his unscheduled dip in the pool, Mitch drove into Destiny. He told himself important rodeo business couldn’t wait. He needed to see his old friend, Sheriff Grady O’Connor. But in his gut he knew this trip into town had everything to do with Taylor. More specifically, the way he’d felt after kissing her.

  Right outside in front of God and everyone, he’d wanted to pull her back into his arms and pick up where they’d left off. Which would have been a big mistake. It was also his motivation for the decision to go into town. But he refused to believe he was behaving like an army in full retreat.

  He parked his truck in front of the sheriff’s office and went inside. The auburn-haired, female deputy at the front counter greeted him. The nameplate beside her said, Deputy Phoebe Johnson. Behind her were several metal desks holding computers and littered with paperwork. File cabinets lined every spare inch of wall space. Overhead, fluorescent lights glared down.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m here to see Grady O’Connor.”

  “Your name?”

  “Mitch Rafferty.”

  “I’ll let him know you’re here,” she said, picking up the phone beside her. “Mitch Rafferty to see you, Sheriff. Yes, sir, I’ll send him right in.”

  She met his gaze and Mitch touched the brim of his hat. “Thanks,” he said, pushing through the swinging door.

  He walked down the hall glancing into the open doorways of the three offices he passed until he saw a familiar face behind a gray metal desk.

  “Grady,” he said, walking into the room. But his friend wasn’t alone. A tall, green-eyed brunette stood beside him.

  “Hi, Mitch,” Grady said, standing. He held out his hand. “You remember Melissa Mae Arbrook.”

  Mitch shook hands, then looked at the woman, trying to recall. “Melissa Mae.”

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, her full mouth somewhere between a smile and a pout. “Arbrook is my married name, although I’m divorced now,” she added pointedly. “My last name used to be Allen. At least I didn’t have to change the initials on my luggage,” she added with a shrug.

  “It’s been a long time,” he said, hazy memories surfacing. He’d had a short fling with her in high school—before Jensen. “How are you?”

  “Fine. I work at the Road Kill Café.”

  Something about the juxtaposition of those two comments made Mitch smile. “How’s it going, Grady?”

  “Can’t complain.” The sheriff was tall, about the same six-foot-two-inch height as himself. But his brown hair was cut military short. Blue eyes filled with amusement gazed back at him.

  “Well, he should—complain, that is,” Melissa Mae said. “I brought him a sandwich because he always misses lunch. Between sheriffing, running that big ranch of his and being daddy to the most adorable nine-year-old twin girls, the poor man runs himself ragged.”

  “Sounds like you could use some help,” Mitch commented. It was obvious Melissa Mae Arbrook was trying out for the job.

  “I’m doing just fine,” Grady said.

  “How about you?” Melissa Mae asked, moving in close to Mitch.

  Apparently she wasn’t especially choosy about who she auditioned for. The scent of her perfume was strong from across the room. Up close, the fumes made him want to cough. “I can’t complain.”

  “Is there a Mrs. Rafferty?”

  He shook his head. When her green eyes gleamed with interest, he kicked himself for being so quick to tell the truth.

  “Y’all must be lonely then,” she commented. “In spite of the fact that you’re staying with Taylor Stevens.”

  “How did you know?”

  She shrugged, drawing attention to her generous breasts beneath the logo on her white T-shirt. “It’s a small town.”

  The phone rang and Grady answered it instantly. “Sheriff O’Connor,” he snapped out. He listened for a moment then said, “I’ll tell her.” He looked at Melissa Mae as he set down the receiver. “Bonnie says to quit flirting with anything in pants and get your fanny back to the café pronto.”

  “I swear she’s a female Attila the Hun,” Melissa Mae grumbled. “I would leave her high and dry if I didn’t need the job so bad—” She took Mitch’s arm and smiled up at him provocatively. “I’m finished with my shift at eight.”

  “Is that so?” He knew what was coming.

  “Let’s get together. I want to hear about everything you’ve been up to for the last ten years. Then maybe we can pick up where we left off in high school.”

  The memory of kissing Taylor flashed through Mitch’s mind. Talk about picking up where you’d left off—the sensual haze from the sparks they’d created just that afternoon closed around him again.

  “My last ten years hasn’t been all that interesting up until today,” he said.

  Thinking he meant her, she smiled. “All that could change tonight,” she answered. “I’ve been told I can be pretty entertaining.”

  He was debating whether to take her up on her offer when a pair of laughing brown eyes and full, smiling lips popped into his head.

  “I have other plans.” Shuffling his feet, he glanced at the woman holding on to him. “But thanks for the invitation.”

  “All work and no play—” she said, leaving the thought hanging. “I gotta go, but you think it over. If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be. Bye, Grady. Mitch,” she said, then sashayed out the door.

  Grady cleared his throat. “You’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to miss the fact that she wouldn’t throw your boots out the front door,” he commented wryly.

  “I didn’t miss it,” he said. “I’m just—”

  Not interested? Since when did he turn down a pretty woman with curves that made a man’s mouth water? A vision of Taylor flashed into his mind—soaking wet and spitting mad. Then the image changed and he remembered sparkling eyes full of humor and fun. Not to mention her determined chin with the intriguing indentation that had beckoned to him more than once to explore. And last, but by no means least, her sexy little body with lush curves and soft skin.

  If he hadn’t kissed her. And held her in his arms. And talked to her… Maybe then he could have taken Melissa Mae up on her offer. Since h
is broken engagement, he’d perfected the technique for an uncomplicated relationship. His fling from a decade ago would be easy to walk away from. He’d already done it once. A voice in his head said he’d done the same to Taylor but that didn’t change the fact that he had trouble getting her out of his mind now.

  “Mitch?”

  “Hmm? What?” he said, meeting Grady’s gaze.

  “Something tells me that woolgathering you’re doing has nothing to do with Melissa Mae Arbrook and everything to do with a rancher whose name is Taylor Stevens.”

  “Define ‘something.”’

  “That ‘until today’ remark.” Grady leaned back in his chair and rested his linked fingers over his abdomen.

  He glared at his friend. “I hope you work at law enforcement with more than guesswork, because you’re reaching in the dark on that one.”

  “I don’t think so. One simple fact can take a skilled sleuth from point A to point B with a small margin of error.” Grady shrugged.

  “What simple fact?”

  “You’ve got the hots for Taylor.”

  “That’s a pretty big leap.”

  “Not really. It’s a fact that you’re staying at her place. Like Melissa Mae said, it’s all over Destiny.”

  “You gotta love small towns.”

  “And last I heard, there aren’t too many women on the Circle S. Jen works in Dallas. By process of elimination, Taylor is there.”

  “What makes you so sure I’ve got the hots for her?” Mitch demanded.

  “You didn’t deny it.”

  The sheriff was right—about everything. He just didn’t know about the kiss. But Mitch would rather lose the biggest development deal of his life than share that information or admit straight out that he did have the hots for Taylor.

  And it was even more clear after seeing Melissa Mae again. Something had changed for him. No way did he want to start a fling with her or anyone else for that matter. Including Taylor—especially her. But he couldn’t get her off his mind. She’d said she loved him once. Granted she was a kid at the time, but he wondered how she felt about him now.

  Mitch let out a long breath as he looked at his friend. “Grady, it’s my professional opinion that you’ve been cooped up behind that desk too long.”

  “Professional what?” Grady asked, in a tone that said he didn’t believe it for an instant.

  “That’s a good question,” Mitch admitted. “You know Dev strong-armed me into putting on the championships.”

  The sheriff nodded. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  Business. Good. Something to take his mind off Taylor.

  “I need to talk to you about providing security for the championships,” Mitch said.

  “You didn’t have to come all the way into town for that. Why didn’t you pick up the phone?”

  No way would he admit to the real reason. “I figured we could mix business with a chance to talk about old times.”

  “I wish I could. But now’s not a good time. After I wolf down this sandwich, I’ve got a meeting with the mayor.”

  “How about tomorrow?” Mitch asked.

  He looked at his desk calendar and shook his head. “Nope. The girls have a checkup. They’re excited about it for the first time ever. And believe me, when they’re not in favor of something, rounding the two of them up takes patience, skill and all the sweet-talking I can manage.”

  “So what’s different? The new sawbones in town?”

  “Lady physician,” he clarified. “But I guess you know about her taking over for Doc Holloway.”

  “Yeah. I met her. Dev was helpful in convincing her to fill in at the rodeo.”

  “So I guess my girls aren’t the only ones happy she’s in town for a visit.” Grady was still looking at his calendar. “How about the day after tomorrow? I’ll come out to the ranch.”

  Mitch nodded. “I have a meeting with a newspaper reporter in the afternoon, but that shouldn’t be a problem. I’d like Dev to be there, too, check out the facilities and see if there’s anything he needs.”

  “Sounds good. Like old times. All of us together.”

  “Except for Jack,” Mitch said.

  Grady frowned. “So you haven’t heard anything from him, either?”

  “Nope. But I moved around a lot at first. It would have been hard for him to track me down.”

  “From what little I heard, finding you would hardly work up a sweat for Jack Riley. Rumor had it he was tagged for some elite military group after he joined the army.”

  “So he’s never been back to Destiny?” Mitch asked.

  “Once. Briefly. When his dad died. It would be good for the four of us to reminisce about old times.” The words were right, but there was a shadow in his eyes. He hadn’t forgotten that night by the lake, either.

  “So we’re on for day after tomorrow.”

  “I’ll see you then.” Grady took a big bite of his sandwich. His mouth was full, but Mitch still made out the words, “Say hi to Taylor for me.”

  “Okay.”

  Mitch left the office and got into his truck. Since he’d told Taylor he wouldn’t be there for dinner, would she read anything into the fact that he was back so soon?

  He read enough into it for the both of them.

  Chapter Seven

  Taylor stepped into the bathtub for what would probably be her last upstairs soak. It was a good opportunity. Mitch was in Destiny and had said he wouldn’t be back for dinner. Tomorrow she planned to move her things to her permanent room off the kitchen.

  After rolling up a towel and placing it on the porcelain rim behind her head, she relaxed and closed her eyes, enjoying the scented mountain of bubbles surrounding her. At first when Mitch had said he wouldn’t be there for dinner, she’d been disappointed. And she’d found his absence left a void, making her angry. He’d been there less than twenty-four hours. How could there be a hole in her life? But now, as she experienced her tension easing in the warm water, she couldn’t help feeling that when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

  Right now, Mitch Rafferty was her lemons. If only he hadn’t come back. If only he hadn’t kissed her. Damn the man. What had he been thinking?

  A shiver rippled through her as she remembered the feel of his lips against her own. If her bathwater hadn’t already been warm, the heat from her skin would have taken the chill off. Why had she responded to his touch? She wasn’t a kid anymore. She was a grown woman and she wasn’t carrying a torch for Mitch Rafferty. She wasn’t. Truly.

  She could just hear Jen. If you have to work that hard to talk yourself out of it, there must be an element of truth.

  Taylor shook her head as she gathered the bubbles close to her body and propped her feet on the side of the tub. If only she could figure out how to make lemonade from her attraction to Mitch.

  “Nope. I won’t care for him again. He’s leaving after the championships. I won’t let him make a fool of me a second time.”

  “Are you talking to yourself again?”

  That was Mitch! His voice was coming from the hall. She hadn’t closed either door to the jack and jill bathroom. There was no way to make lemonade out of this lemon. But what she wouldn’t give for the world’s biggest towel.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” she squeaked.

  “It’s a good thing I am,” he continued, his voice getting closer. “If you keep talking to yourself, people are going to start wondering about you. The loony lady who lives by herself on the big ranch. That kind of reputation could do a number on your business.” He poked his head around the corner.

  “Get your mangy carcass out of here,” Taylor squealed, sliding down below the bubble line. The hand towel behind her went, too, and was now soaked. “There are laws against this sort of thing in Texas.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t know you were taking a bath.” But his wide grin said otherwise.

  “You said you wouldn’t be here.” She had nothing to cover herself with. Her tiny loofah was
about as useful as two wagons in a one-horse town.

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Why? Nothing exciting going on in Destiny on Saturday night?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. Melissa Mae Arbrook let me know she’s available.”

  Taylor snorted. “No kidding. Available is her middle name. Ever since her divorce.” What was she thinking having a conversation while she was stark naked except for some flimsy covering that she could hear popping even as she spoke. “Get out of here, Mitch.”

  “Why? It’s not like I have X-ray vision to see through those damn bubbles. Besides, after that dip in the pool, I saw more through your blouse.”

  She threw her loofah at him, but it missed and hit the wall when he ducked into the other room, laughing.

  “You’re not a Texas gentleman and it’s a lie if you say you are! You’re a blackhearted, transplanted-to-L.A. Texan who doesn’t have the chivalry of a rattlesnake.”

  “I’m a guy who wouldn’t be human if he didn’t do his best to get a peek at a pretty lady.”

  He thought she was pretty? Taylor grinned although she would rather eat glass than let him know his sweet-talking had worked. “The least you could do is go downstairs so I can salvage my modesty and get out of the tub.”

  “Go ahead. I won’t look.”

  “Like I believe that.”

  “Scout’s honor, Taylor.”

  “When were you a Boy Scout?”

  “I have the heart and soul of one,” he said, but there was humor in his voice.

  Her mouth curved up in spite of herself. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Some things never change.”

  “This water is getting cold enough to freeze the horns off a steer. I’m going to have to trust you. But if I catch you looking, just remember I have a pool and I know how to use it.”

  “Words to put the fear of God in a man,” he said, a truce in his voice. “I’m afraid to tangle with you. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”