Candis Terry - [Sweet, Texas 01]

by Anything But Sweet

  With or without him, she needed a plan.

  At half past nine on Sunday night, Reno’s house phone rang off the hook. Five minutes later, he climbed into his truck and found himself tooling down the road toward his mother’s place. When he rolled the Chevy to a stop in front of the barn, he tipped his hat back and shook his head.

  On the veranda, his mother and Charli—obviously soused on something stronger than sweet tea—were dancing barefoot to Dwight Yokum’s “Guitars, Cadillacs” and giggling like schoolgirls. Their third dance partner was his mother’s pet goat, all dolled up in ribbons and lace and a hat sitting crooked across her horns.

  He stood back watching, reluctant to end their fun. Come tomorrow, they’d probably both have hangovers the size of the Rio Grande. For now, he didn’t think either of them cared.

  For selfish reasons, he was happy to see that they got along so well. His mother could always use someone to put a bright spot in her day, and Charli was damned good at that.

  She’d definitely put a smile on his face.

  He hadn’t seen her leave the apartment earlier, but he could definitely appreciate her now in her peasant blouse, cutoff jeans, and red boots. Her shiny hair hung down her back in a wild mass of curls, and his hands clenched with the desire to feel the silky strands run through his fingers.

  Charli had many facets and more he was sure he’d yet to uncover. One moment she could be sweet, funny, and sexy, the next she could be giving him hell without backing down. She could dance on the porch with his mother and a goat or relate to his sorrow and loss.

  If he could design a woman who’d be perfect for him, she’d surpass his own expectations.

  He could imagine waking next to her every day. Sharing a sink as they brushed their teeth. Sitting across from her every night at the dinner table. He could imagine holding her when she cried and joining in when she laughed.

  Without much coaxing, he could fall heart over heels in love with her. It would be so easy, he thought, as he watched her do a little heel-toe action, then swing her hips to the beat of the song.

  Hell, if he was honest, he could imagine walking down the aisle, having babies, and growing old with her.

  But those were all just dreams. And he knew that every dream ended in a nightmare.

  In three short weeks, she’d climb up into that Hummer and drive out of his life—back to California or her next makeover location. Maybe even go back to some guy she’d left behind.

  While the thought of her in someone else’s arms made him go a little crazy, he tried to remain logical. Or at least as logical as his jaded mind would allow.

  Besides, there would be plenty of time to agonize over what could have been when she was gone. And he would. Right now, he just needed to get her home and into bed.

  The guitars of the song crescendoed, and the women on the porch fell into each other’s arms while the goat continued to prance. Their sounds of amusement reached through the air and made Reno smile.

  Hands in pockets, he made his way across the drive. When his boots hit the aged planks of the veranda where he’d once spent hours daydreaming and doing homework, Charli turned with a big grin.

  “Hey, Cowboy. Did you come to pick me up?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She walked up to him—her steps a little wobbly in those bright red boots—grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and pulled him in for a kiss. Normally, he didn’t show any kind of public display of affection. Especially in front of his mother. But since she’d been the one making the—margaritas, judging by the empty glasses on the table—and she’d been the one to call him to give Charli a ride home, he expected she knew Charli was a little trashed. And that there might be a little something going on between them.

  “You’re going to have a helluva headache come morning,” he said.

  “Pffft. Nonsense.” She waved her hand like she was batting flies. “We only had a couple of teeny-weeny little strawberry smoothies. Right, Jana?”

  “Right,” his mother agreed. “Hardly any alcohol at all.”

  “Uh-huh.” He skimmed his hands down Charli’s bare arms. Felt goose bumps rise beneath his fingers. “You about ready to go?”

  “I guess.” She let out a big old sigh. “But I had sooooo much fun.”

  His mother came over, and the two of them embraced. “Come back next Sunday,” his mother said. “We’ll make peach margaritas.”

  “I think y’all have had enough tequila for a month,” he said.

  Charli giggled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You said, y’all.”

  He tilted his head, looked down into her sleepy brown eyes. “Something wrong with that?”

  “No.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “I think it’s really hot.”

  “Hokay. Time to go nighty-night, Fancy Pants. You got a purse or something?”

  “I’ll get it.” His mother disappeared into the house. The screen door banged closed behind her. Then she was back outside again with a pink leather bag. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” He tucked her purse beneath his arm. After she gave the goat a hug, he steered Charli toward his truck. “Night, Mom.”

  “Night, sugarplum.” She gave them a wave. “Thanks for a fun day, Charli.”

  “Thank you,” Charli returned. “You’ll think about what I said, right?”

  “I sure will.”

  After Reno helped Charli up into his truck, he waited until his mother disappeared safely into the house. Then he slid into the driver’s seat and started up the engine. Once they hit the main road, he asked, “What was going on with you and my mom?”

  “We . . . bonded.”

  “I can see that.” He chuckled. “I think you’re the first person she’s danced with since my dad died.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. So . . . thanks.”

  “I really didn’t do anything. A fun song came on the radio—something about ticks, I think—and we just jumped up and started dancing. Next thing I knew, we were out on the veranda.” She flashed him a smile. “She just couldn’t say no. I’m too irresistible.”

  He did a double take on those cutoff jeans, long legs, and her red boots.

  No kidding.

  Her stomach growled.

  “Oops.” She let out a giggle.

  “Did you eat dinner?” he asked.

  “We had cobbler.”

  “That’s not much of a meal.”

  “It was delicious. Your mother’s a wonderful cook.” She slid closer, dipped her hand down the buttons on his shirt to his zipper, and leaned in to kiss his neck. “Mmmmm. I could snack on you all the way home.”

  He cleared his throat, which did nothing to alleviate his sudden erection. No doubt the woman rang all his bells and whistles, but he was pretty damned sure she wouldn’t make it to his front door before she passed out. And he’d never been a man to take advantage of a woman unless she was an awake and willing participant.

  “How about I take a rain check on that?”

  She leaned away and looked at him through the darkness with a frown pulling her beautiful smooth brows together. “You don’t want me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Oh. Sure.” She slid to her own side of the bench seat and folded her arms. “I get it.”

  A moment of silence filtered through the cab as he waited for her to enlighten him on exactly what it was that she got. Instead, her gaze remained focused out the passenger window, and her lips remained sealed.

  A million thoughts raced through his head—all of them starting with how much he wanted her—and ending with her leaving him and Sweet with nothing but a heartache.

  “No, honey.” He touched her arm, knowing he’d be a whole lot happier with her sitting a little closer. “I’m afraid you don’t.”

  Thunk.

  “Charli?” He eased the truck to the side of the road. By the time he put the gearshift in PARK, he didn’t need to look closer to
find the problem. She let out a snuffle and a snore. A chuckle vibrated in his chest, and he got them back on the road.

  Minutes later, he carried her into his house and laid her on his bed. He slid off her boots, then debated whether to remove the rest of her clothes so she’d be comfortable. Deciding she’d never know the difference, he pulled the covers up to her chin.

  For a moment, he gave himself permission to just look at her. He watched her gentle breathing lift her chest, her closed eyelids flutter. A small smile curled her lips. Even in her sleep and drunk off her ass, she was beautiful.

  Inside and out.

  Before he moved into stalker mode, he called her dog, who had remained comfortably stretched out on his leather sofa when they’d come through the door. Little dog toenails clicked on the hardwood floor as she trotted down the hallway, then came into the bedroom and looked at him as if he’d committed a felony.

  “Don’t give me that look,” he said. “Get up there with your mama. Keep an eye on her.”

  Pumpkin sneezed, and her foofy ears flew up like flags made of cotton balls. Then, with a graceful leap, she jumped up onto the bed and snuggled against Charli’s side. He leaned down and kissed Charli’s forehead, then forced himself to turn off the light and walk out the door.

  Not climbing into bed beside her might be the hardest and the dumbest thing he’d ever done. But with all the emotions churning inside him, he needed to give himself some distance. Get used to being without her around. He knew he was getting too attached. Even though he’d already found himself knee deep in wanting her, he had to keep a clear mind. A guarded heart. One foot on the road to reason.

  At 2:00 A.M., she shuffled into the living room, naked, took him by the hand, and pulled him up from the sofa. Then she led him back to the bedroom.

  He went.

  Willingly.

  Charli woke with elephants parading through her brain. She abruptly sat up, then lay back down just as quick. Slid one bloodshot eye open and peered around the room.

  Empty.

  She turned her head and glanced at the clock radio.

  Nine o’clock.

  Judging by the sunshine peeking through the slats in the window blinds, she knew that meant nine in the morning, and she was late for work. She threw back the covers, got out of bed, and went in search of the man who’d held her close all night. And some painkillers.

  Her bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor as she went room to room. Each space was as empty as the next.

  No Reno. No Pumpkin. No Bear.

  In the kitchen, she spotted her purse on the granite counter and reached in for the bottle of Ibuprofen. When she turned to grab a glass of water, she saw the full coffeepot and the note propped in front.

  Thought once you got up you could use a strong cup of coffee. Pumpkin is in the backyard with Bear. She’s been fed. I’m at the store. Will try to catch up with you later.

  Hope you have a good day,

  R.

  Charli knew she was late for work, and she’d pay hell trying to catch up. Instead of rushing off to the shower, she poured herself a cup of coffee, splashed in some sugar, and sat down at the kitchen table. She picked up the note and reread it.

  Twice.

  In all her thirty-one years, she’d never had a man leave her a morning note. Not even her father or brother. Not even her filmmaker ex-boyfriend, who’d snuck out in the middle of the night so he didn’t have to say good-bye.

  She turned the piece of plain white paper in her hand. The note was simple. It wasn’t a love letter. And yet it tugged at her heart.

  He cared.

  Sure. He probably didn’t want to. But he couldn’t help himself. Reno was a man who wanted—needed—to look after someone. To be a part of their lives. To hold them. Love them. Even if he never asked for anything in return. She’d never met a more complex man. And she was sure she’d never meet anyone again who’d come close to making her feel like he held her future in his hands and heart.

  She sipped the strong coffee, sat back in the sturdy chair, and glanced around the kitchen. Warm earth tones with a punch of red and solid furniture with a touch of masculinity. All could easily be softened up with paint, pillows, and rugs. There were few embellishments, yet the room felt comfortable, like she could sit there all day and never leave. It did not surprise her that she wanted to do just that. But the completion of a new Town Square awaited.

  She took her coffee and strolled into the living room—surprised he hadn’t created a mural in his own home. He had amazing talent. Then again, she had the feeling he didn’t spend much time indoors. Maybe he hadn’t made the time. Or maybe he hadn’t been inspired yet. He had the perfect wall space, but it was currently hidden by a pair of bookcases. She walked up to check out his reading choices.

  Fitzgerald. Hemingway. Steinbeck. L’Amour. Brontë.

  The man certainly had eclectic taste.

  She glanced across the bookshelf to a trio of picture frames attached by silver loops and was not surprised to see those he loved and lost.

  Joe Wilder had been a dashing man, with a thick head of blond hair and deep blue eyes that sparkled with mischief.

  Jared Wilder, in his Marine dress blues, had been equally as handsome as any of his brothers and had a smile that radiated sincerity.

  Diana—the great love of Reno’s life—had the unpretentious looks of the girl next door. She would be anybody’s friend, Charli thought. A good daughter. A good wife. A good mother.

  Charli’s heart broke for the young woman who’d been about to marry the man of her dreams, then lost it all in one crushing moment that ended her young life.

  A slow breath leaked from Charli’s lungs as she picked up the picture frames and looked into the faces of those who’d been there to help Reno grow into such an amazing man.

  A man who deserved happiness.

  “If he’ll have me,” she told them all silently, “I’ll take good care of him. I promise.”

  How could she not?

  Against everything she’d sworn herself not to do, she’d quickly fallen hopelessly, helplessly in love.

  She only hoped that, eventually, he’d feel the same way.

  Lunchtime rolled around, and Reno helped the rush of folks who’d come into the store for various odds and ends to get their week started. Mondays were notoriously slow. Well, most anyway.

  Seemed the usual weekend shoppers had waited for the beginning of the week to come into town to see how far the renovations on Town Square had come. As far as Reno could see from across the street, they’d gone well.

  The new playground had been installed with a variety of colorful playsets and the rubber mulch Charli insisted on to keep the kids safe. New wood and decorative iron park benches and picnic tables were in place. Final touches were being added to the gazebo. And work continued on the new waterfall and creek Charli and the landscapers had thought would be a nice addition.

  It appeared the only thing missing today was Charli.

  Not that he’d been standing at the window watching for her. But the few times a customer had made comments about the square, he’d glanced across the street, expecting to see her working away. Each time he’d come up empty.

  Seemed Charli had been a no-show.

  That had started him to worry.

  He’d called the house, but there had been no answer. He’d call her cell phone but, hell, he didn’t have her number. How was it that he’d made love to her numerous times and didn’t have her damned phone number?

  Around two o’clock, the activity in the store slowed, and he figured he could finally get to the long list of special orders he’d neglected these past few days. Either that, or he could jump in his truck and rush home to make sure nothing was wrong. While he contemplated the dilemma, the bell over the door jingled.

  To his surprise, Charli strolled in, looking bright-eyed. As she came forward, her gaze flitted around the store.

  “Stop that,” he said.

 
She looked up. “Stop what?”

  “Undressing my store with your eyes.”

  “Okay. I’d rather undress you anyway.” A deep-throated chuckle bubbled up from beneath her really nicely fitted cotton top. “But not just with my eyes.”

  Great. There went all kinds of wicked thoughts flying through his head. “How’s the hangover?”

  Her slim shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Not an issue. I had a hair of the dog earlier this morning.”

  “You’ve been hitting the strawberry margaritas already? No wonder you look so relaxed.”

  “No, silly. After I had two cups of the wonderful coffee you made—and thank you very much for that—I took a shower and headed to Bud’s. Paige made me a short stack smothered with strawberries. So since ten this morning, I’ve been on a caffeine-and-sugar high. I’m pretty sure the crash is going to be ugly.”

  Doubting anything she did could be considered ugly, he chuckled.

  “Whatcha doin?” She leaned over the counter and propped her chin with both hands. “Ordering more plaid shirts?”

  Once he managed to drag his gaze away from the abundance of cleavage she’d offered him, he caught the amusement in her brown eyes. “You’re feisty today.”

  “I’m feeling good,” she said. “Productive.”

  “Then to what do I owe this visit, Ms. Productive?” He moved the computer mouse, clicked on his purchasing spreadsheet, then gave her his full attention—an action far more satisfying.

  “I came for my clock.” She reached a hand across the counter and walked her warm fingers up his arm with a come-and-get-me grin. “Unless you can think of something better to do.”

  The idea of locking the front door and hauling her into the back room sounded like a great idea, but he’d promised himself he’d try to put some distance between them. To do his best to protect his heart even when he knew he’d pretty much already lost it.

  “Being that you already slacked off enough for one day by sleeping in, and you have a project that needs to be done in just four days,” he said, “I suggest we stick to the clock thing.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but it’s not going to be nearly as much fun.”

  Understatement.

  There wasn’t anything more fun than getting tangled between the sheets with her.