by Susan Crosby
“Let’s go take a look at the options.” They headed into the bedroom, opened the closet doors. Her decision took no time at all. There was only one outfit that made the grade. “My red Western shirt, jeans and boots.”
“Need me to go buy you a Stetson or something?” Her eyes sparkled.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea. See if you can get a variety delivered to the set tomorrow. Or maybe Resistols are the in thing. Hmm. Just get an assortment, okay?”
Leesa nodded, looking even more amused.
“I know, I know,” Maggie said. “Talk about life changes.”
“Yep. I don’t want to hear a word about hat hair,” Leesa said with a laugh. “And I think I’d better get out of here before the man of the house comes back and sees me keeping you from your rest.” She hugged her old friend. “Night. Thanks for keeping my life interesting.”
The man of the house. Tony had easily assumed that role within the span of an hour. Maggie sensed they would knock heads now and then, each of them used to making their own decisions.
She grabbed a nightgown—mint-green, thigh length, silky but not transparent—and headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed. By the time she emerged, Tony was lounging in a chair by the bed, flipping through a fashion magazine he’d snagged from her bedside table.
“Figured you’d be in bed by now,” he said, putting aside the magazine, but otherwise not moving.
“Leesa and I had to choose my clothes for the press conference.” As casually as possible she walked across the room, folded back the quilt and climbed between the sheets. She shoved a couple of pillows against the headboard and settled against them. “Did you and Dino come to terms?”
“We did.”
“And he’ll be moving into your house, too?”
“He’s renting an RV and will stay in it, next to the house.” Tony stood. “Before you get all huffy about it, let me say that was his choice. I offered him a room inside. The rest of your security team will sleep in the bunkhouse. Dino convinced me I was better off keeping them than hiring my own. I’m bowing to his expertise.”
She was glad to see he could be flexible. “That sounds great, all of it. Thank you. And thank you for taking the heat regarding this relationship, Tony. That was incredibly generous of you.”
“I’m not the one with a reputation to ruin.” He started to unbutton his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed.” He continued undressing, pulling off his shirt and setting it aside neatly. Tugging off his boots. Then his fingers touched the metal button at his waist. It popped open. He slid the zipper down. Fascinated, she watched him. The jeans came down and were laid over a chair as neatly as his shirt.
Wearing his briefs, he joined her under the covers. “You didn’t think I would leave my fiancée on her own, did you?” he asked, propped on an arm, facing her.
She wondered what he was thinking, but he was not an open book. When they’d talked about whether the marriage would include sex, just the idea of sharing his bed had her anticipating, but the marriage would be enough of a sham on its own. Adding to it by having sex as if they were a normal married couple would be leading him on—and for her it would be much harder to leave when it was time. A couple of months? She could manage that.
But now that he’d climbed into bed with her…
“I didn’t know what your plans were,” she said, finally answering his question. “I think you like to keep me guessing.”
He smiled. It so transformed his face she could only stare. She definitely needed to make him smile more. He was a rugged-looking man, but his smile softened him. Then it went away as fast as it had come.
“Why’d you leave this morning without telling me goodbye, Margaret?”
“Because you would’ve stopped me, and I had lines to learn, and I needed to return the car I borrowed, and…”
“And?”
“I was afraid I’d get attached, afraid I’d let you take care of me. I need to take care of myself. Plus, I didn’t want you to get caught with me—for your sake, not mine.”
He stared at her for the longest time, then reached for her, pulling her close, tucking her head in that soothing, exciting spot between his neck and shoulder, her face almost touching his chest. “Don’t do it again, okay?” he said into her hair. “Always tell me goodbye.”
“Okay.” What was he up to? Why was he holding her so close when nothing could come of it?
He held her a little tighter, kissed her forehead and said, “Sleep, darlin’. Just sleep.”
It didn’t take more than that. She closed her eyes and followed orders.
It’d been a long time since Tony had held a woman all night. For a little while after sex, yeah, but not the whole night. He tried to keep his hands from roaming over Maggie, but her nightgown was even softer than her skin, and every time he rubbed his hands up and down her back, she snuggled closer to him.
He could feel her breath, warm against his chest, her hand resting along his sternum. Her hair smelled of oranges, his favorite fruit. Her knee slipped between his thighs, bringing their bodies even closer. Sweat beaded his forehead. He’d already endured her proximity for several hours, with several more to go. If only he could fall asleep…
The next thing he knew, it was five o’clock. She’d rolled over, her very fine rear end pushed against him. He was fully, painfully aroused.
To distract himself, he made a mental list of what he needed to do this morning. Tell his parents his news before they heard it from someone else. Tell his housekeeper to get things ready at the house. Next week it would be time to move the herd. He always went along on the three-day chore each month, but this time? Maybe he’d have to hire an extra hand. He didn’t want to leave Maggie alone, not with the security issues, no matter how competent Dino might be.
Maggie had been right about him. Dino was there to stay. He knew what it took to keep Maggie safe. Since that was the goal of both men, Tony left him in charge of her security, although Tony would take an active role. It was his ranch, after all, and his…fiancée.
“So, is that your championship buckle you’re wearing or are you just happy to see me?” she asked, her voice sleepy. She wriggled closer.
“Hussy.”
She went rigid. “I’m sorry,” she said in a rush, moving away from him, obviously embarrassed at her unguarded response before she came fully awake.
He decided not to push his luck. For now he would be sleeping next to a woman who turned him on like no one else. A man could get used to that.
She hopped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. “I’ve got to get going,” she said. “Lines to learn.”
She shut the door. He tucked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He would be crazy to get used to having her there. She was only going to be around a few months at the most. In fact, she probably had another movie to do right after this one. He should ask about her schedule. But he couldn’t traipse around the world, following her, being a stage husband, a lapdog—not even for show. He had a ranch to run, and his own self-respect to consider.
For sure a woman like her wouldn’t settle for living in a place like his, either, isolated from the world.
He had to be very careful in his wooing. He was looking for more of what he’d had in the motel room—hot, wild sex with a beautiful woman—not permanence. They were oil and water. He’d done that once before on a much smaller scale. It hadn’t worked then.
This time, he knew better than to try.
Chapter Six
Sue-Ellen Young, Tony’s vibrant, seventy-two-year-old mother of four and grandmother of nine, wasn’t often at a loss for words, but she hadn’t uttered a sound since her youngest son told her later that morning that he was engaged to be married.
“To Maggie McShane?” she repeated eventually. She and Tony were sitting at the kitchen table, the same one he’d eaten at for the first eighteen years of his life.
“
That’s the one.”
“The movie star.” Awe and disbelief mingled in her voice.
He knew how she felt. “I don’t know why you’re questioning it. You saw our picture online.”
“You told me it was an accidental kind of thing. Right place, right time, is what you said, and someone snapped a photo.”
“And you were ticked at me for not getting her autograph. Now you can ask her yourself.”
“Ask her…? As if I’d asked my own—oh, my stars, Maggie McShane is going to be my daughter-in-law. Fancy that. Well, when are you bringing her home to meet everyone? We’ll throw a barbecue. How many people should I invite?” She pushed back from the table, grabbed a tablet of paper.
“Mom.”
“Hmm?”
“A small affair the first time, okay? Just family. I’ll have to let you know what works out, timewise. I don’t know her schedule yet.”
“Did you tell your father?”
“You’re the first.” As he’d driven in, Tony had seen his father in the round pen, but hadn’t stopped to talk. He wanted to tell someone who would be happy for him first.
“You’ll talk to him before you leave, right?”
Tony shrugged. “If he’s available, I guess.”
“He’ll be thrilled.”
“Maybe.”
She gave him an admonishing look. “You’re forty years old, and you can’t see past when you were eighteen when it comes to him.”
“He doesn’t do anything to change that, either, Mom.” Maybe his getting married would make a difference in his relationship with his father, maybe not. At the least, Hoyt Young might look at his son differently.
Of course, even that was ultimately an issue. He would be marrying her, but the marriage would be legal and fake at the same time. Maybe he’d end up looking worse in his father’s eyes when the marriage ended. He hadn’t considered that…
“Son?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
She patted his hand. “It’s a good starting-over time, don’t you think? New bride, the beginning of a new stage of your life. Making amends with your dad would be grand.”
All Tony wanted from his father was respect for what he’d done with his life. Just because Tony had chosen a different path from his brothers—had been different all his life—shouldn’t make him less in his father’s eyes, but it always had. Especially regarding his rodeoing. Hoyt had never believed him, and wanted Tony to stay home and be part of the family business. He’d never understood his youngest son’s need to do it his own way.
“I’ve got a ton of things to do,” Tony said, standing. “There’ll be a press conference late this afternoon, so you’ll probably start getting phone calls.”
“And what am I supposed to tell people about how you met? She was engaged, last everyone knew.”
“You sure do keep up with Hollywood gossip.”
“I made it a point after I saw you’d been kissing her. What mother wouldn’t?”
“We met, I wanted her, so I went after her. The engagement was already ended—it just wasn’t public knowledge yet. Beyond that, no one needs to know. It’s our business, Maggie’s and mine.”
“You always were one to keep your own counsel.”
“It’s served me well, too.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll give you a call later about the barbecue.”
“Can I start telling people?”
“If you can stand it, would you wait until after the press conference? It won’t be broadcast live or anything like that, so you’ll still get to surprise people. I don’t think Maggie’d like the word out before she gives her statement. Her publicist is gonna stop by sometime today and give you advice about handlin’ the press. Name’s Garnet.”
“Publicist? Seems like an awful lot of trouble for one little engagement.”
“Little?” he repeated.
“Well, okay. I guess it won’t be so little.” She followed him to the kitchen door. “You sure she’s gonna adapt to living where the mesquite’s your nearest neighbor? Oh! Maybe you’re giving up the ranch?”
“We have decisions to make, but I can assure you I’m not selling the ranch.”
“She must have a fancy home in California. Or some highfalutin penthouse in New York City?”
He realized how little he knew about her. He’d better start getting a stronger sense of her and her life or he’d seem like an idiot. “I’ll call you,” he said to his mother, then left the house. He spotted his father still working in the round pen, his brothers draped on the fence, watching. Tony studied the man who’d sired him, a still-tall-and-sturdy cattleman of seventy-four hardworking years. He’d never been east of the Mississippi but had a lot to say about a world he knew little about except from what he saw on TV or read in the newspaper. Opinionated was Hoyt Young’s middle name.
Tony shoved his hat down a little tighter and headed toward the pen. How many times as a boy had he clung to the fence watching his father train a horse? “Watch and learn,” he’d always said in response to Tony’s constant questions. Shut up, pay attention and don’t whine—Hoyt Young’s Three Commandments. The words were branded in Tony’s brain. He’d learned not to say too much to his mother, either, since she always relayed his complaints to his dad, which only earned Tony extra time mucking stalls or some other menial task. Not that he hadn’t done every possible menial job in his day—wasn’t any the worse for it, either—but being ordered to do extra had been annoying, when all he’d wanted was answers to his questions.
Hoyt climbed down from the quivering quarter horse and passed the reins to Tony’s brother Grady, who started a cooldown walk with him. Tony unlatched the gate as his father approached.
“Son,” Hoyt said, coming through then relatching the gate, his bowlegged gait giving him a bit of a lean, side to side.
“Dad.”
“I understand you’ve been rubbin’ elbows with celebrities.”
“Just one. That’s why I’m here.” Tony hated that his gut clenched. It shouldn’t be like that. If he ever had kids of his own, they wouldn’t fear him. “I’m marrying Maggie McShane.”
“When?”
That’s it? When? That’s the only reaction he was going to get? “End of the month. In San Francisco. We’ll be flying up there together, all the family.”
“Pretty close to weanin’ time. Takin’ the calves to market.”
Like he wouldn’t know that? He had a spread of his own. Not that his father had acknowledged the success of the Lucky Hand. Just because his brothers had built houses on the family property and worked it—
Tony let it go. Old argument, old hurts. “You’ve never been to San Francisco, have you? Could be fun.”
“Your mother’s been houndin’ me for years about goin’.”
“Maybe you two could stay on a few extra days. Have a second honeymoon.”
“Did you plant that idea in her head?”
“Nope. She’d see it as pretty romantic, though, if you suggested it.”
Hoyt grunted.
They’d been walking toward Tony’s truck and now came up beside it. “Well,” Tony said. “Guess I’ll be going. Mom’s putting together a barbecue to meet Maggie.”
“Sounds fine.”
So. No congratulations. No questions. No slap on the back. No interest, apparently. Tony climbed into his truck. “So long.”
A nod sufficed as answer, then his father turned around and ambled away. Tony shoved the truck in gear and drove off, his need for acknowledgment swept up with the trail of dust his truck left behind.
It was enough to choke a man.
Maggie peeked through the curtains as a crowd gathered in front of the old homestead on the movie set. Every cast and crew member was in attendance, their conversation and laughter drifting through the window glass. Television crews and journalists were checking sound and lights. A bunch of photographers claimed space near the front porch. She even spotted someone from Meteor, the gossip magazine that had s
uggested Maggie was pregnant with twins, hence the hurried-up wedding plans with Scott. Maggie blew a raspberry toward the jerk.
Leesa laughed from behind her. “Glad to see you’re not intimidated by the crowd.”
“It was nice of Mac to let us hold the press conference here.”
“I imagine the publicity won’t hurt when the movie comes out. Press’ll tap into it again when it’s released. A remember-when? kind of thing.”
And my marriage will be over by then. The thought stung her. “Still, Mac didn’t have to make it easy for me, either. But this way, when Tony and I are done, we can just slip back inside the house until everyone leaves—or is chased off. Tony’s here, right?”
She stepped away from the window and faced her assistant. She didn’t want to admit to being worried he wouldn’t show, that he’d changed his mind. He’d given his word, which meant she shouldn’t worry, but she wasn’t that confident yet.
“He’s here. He said he’ll join you in a few minutes. He’s hanging with Dino, getting the lay of the land. Did you decide on a hat?”
“I’m going to ask Tony. He’ll know.” Maggie hadn’t brought along her stylist, who would’ve known what looked the best on Maggie but not what was right. She wanted to fit in, for Tony to be proud to present her to his world. His parents would undoubtedly see bits and pieces of the conference, after the fact. “Garnet’s got the statement?”
“In hand. She’s mingling.”
Boot steps sounded just before Tony swept into the living room from the back side of the house. He looked like a successful rancher in his black Western-cut suit, white shirt and bolo tie. Black hat in hand, he moved toward Maggie. She noticed he hadn’t gotten a haircut and was glad. She loved the curls that touched his neck below his hat.
“I…I’ll go,” Leesa said. “Garnet will come get you when it’s time.”
“Garnet can park herself outside,” Tony said, his gaze not straying from Maggie’s. “I’ll open the door when we’re ready. She’d better be there.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Maggie smiled at his take-charge attitude, especially since no one ever told Garnet what to do and got away with it.
