by Ashley Shay
She shook her head then tipped an imaginary hat. “Bad move, little lady. You’re gonna be a schoolmarm, not a saloon girl.” She laughed again, wiggled her hips, then froze. She frowned as her gaze dropped down.
Did her hips look a little fuller than last week? She should never have eaten all those fries last night, and she sure as heck should have turned down that apple pie at the bottom of the bag. She turned this way and that as she contemplated her five-foot-four-inch frame. Well, nothing to be done about that now. She’d just file away her resolution for the future.
“No more apple pies, ma’am. We can’t have the horse staggerin’ under all the weight, now can we?”
She decided, even with a little extra padding, she had a nice ass.
She turned around and shook her booty, grinning at herself in the mirror.
“Maybe you should wear something to show it off just a bit. What do you think about that, Carly?”
Her gaze darted to the pile of clothes, and she sighed. Nothing she had packed would show off her figure, at least not in the way she wanted. She would just have to settle for coordinated until she found a clothing store, and then she would let herself go a little wild. She wondered if she could convince Marshal Laughton she needed to go shopping. Maybe when he saw how un–Texas-like she looked, he’d okay a little side trip, especially if she got the job.
Oh, she hoped she got the job…
She stared at herself in the mirror. “Hello. My name is Carly Barnes. I called for an appointment yesterday. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Not quite right. She gave herself a brilliant smile and shoved her hand toward the mirror. “Hi! I’m Carly Barnes. Nice to meet you. You must be Mr. Lucas.” She couldn’t go wrong saying that. They were all Mr. Lucas.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Carly picked up a handful of pictures the marshal had left with her. “Let’s look over the goodies, shall we, Carly?”
Tyler, Shane, Dustin, and Justin Lucas stared at her from the photograph. She took time to look at them without the marshal’s inquisitive eyes studying her every move.
The men were simply gorgeous. Tanned, muscular, rugged…she could go on and on about their attributes. Tyler had a serious face and the kind of lips that begged to be kissed just to soften the hard, unyielding set of them. She knew he would be the disciplinarian, the rock of the family, and the leader of his tribe, or whatever they called them in Texas.
Carly decided that Shane, standing in the middle, probably fulfilled the role of peacekeeper between the brothers. He didn’t look as aggressive as his older brother, but he had the same firm chin and chiseled cheekbones.
The twins, Dustin and Justin, had to be the family mischief makers. They looked like a handful alone, let alone paired. Their green eyes sparkled with an amused glint absent in the two older brothers, and they stood in relaxed poses against the fence, showcasing their narrow waists and wide chests. Carly involuntarily licked her lips. If she got the job, it would be like working in a candy store. She would constantly want to sample the goodies.
“On a diet, remember?” she muttered.
She might be on a diet now, but once she got into shape and began to blend into the Texas landscape, maybe she could dip into the dessert tray once in a while…Who to choose? Well, why would she have to choose? It was a new life after all, wasn’t it? She blushed at her own thoughts. The idea of touching any one of those men, let alone all four, made her pussy clench.
Shaking herself out of the daydream, she looked around the motel room. It looked like every other chain motel where she’d ever stayed. A queen-size bed nearly filled the room, and across from the bed was a TV with a remote balanced on top. She had once read of all items in a motel room the TV remote held the most germs. Too late for that little tidbit to pop into her head. She’d already shared its germs by sleeping with it. Above the bed, with its traditional, dark, flowered spread, hung a cheaply framed, starving-artist type of a desert scene. Carly wondered why they didn’t leave the walls bare. The print did absolutely nothing to enhance the room, and it sure as heck didn’t look like the Texas of her imagination. It did, however, have a few earth tones she associated with the Lucas brothers’ hair.
“Snap out of it. It’s like you’ve never seen a good-looking guy before.” She squared her shoulders. “Remember, no fraternizing with the employers. That way lies madness. You are there for the child. You’ll be the best nanny in Texas.”
She couldn’t wait to see what Texas really looked like. She hadn’t been able to tell much on the ride from the airport, just that she already loved every inch of it.
She realized she had almost used up all of her stalling tactics. She needed to get dressed and decide on how she wanted to wear her hair. She preferred it hanging loose, but the heat of the Texas sun would be brutal.
She fluffed her damp hair and decided not to dry it. Carla may have spent an hour a day trying to straighten and tame her natural curl to impress the elite of Washington society, but Carly had a different attitude. She’d wear what she called “weekend hair” and let her ash blonde hair dry naturally into soft waves that framed her face. She decided to wear it in a twist until she could purchase a cowboy hat for herself. Maybe a cute little white one like Suzie had worn in her photo.
Her heart sank. It was important that she find a position soon to begin her own life for her safety, but she hadn’t realized how much she wanted this job until she started planning her wardrobe around the Western state. What if the men didn’t hire her? Would she end up somewhere cold and forlorn, like New York City, where she would always remain a stranger to even those closest to her? Or would she be shuffled off to another crowded metropolis like Miami, Chicago, or Los Angeles to be lost in their sea of humanity? She didn’t want to think about it. Somehow, she had to make the Lucas brothers hire her because when she’d stepped out of the airport into the warm Texas air and seen the landscape surrounding San Antonio, she felt like she’d come home to a place she’d never been before. Finally, she understood what John Denver had meant when he wrote those words in his song “Rocky Mountain High.”
A knock sounded on the door, and she squeaked, lurching up and spilling photos all over the floor.
“Ms. Barnes?”
Marshal Laughton knocked again.
“Just a minute!”
She grabbed her pink terry cloth robe and flung it over her shoulders, trying to find the armholes as she staggered across the room, tripping over the high heels she’d tossed near the bed the night before. She caught the edge of her shoulder on the door, and it hurt like heck.
“Darn it!”
“Everything okay in there?”
The marshal’s voice held that edge she’d heard several time since they’d left DC, and she knew she only had about ten seconds before he used the duplicate key card. She fumbled with the chain and opened the door a couple inches, peeking around the corner. The robe fell in a puddle at her feet.
She offered a tiny smile. “Morning, Marshal.”
His brows drew down in a frown, and his gaze fell to the pile of pink cloth near the edge of the door. “You’re not dressed?”
“Not quite,” she said softly.
He lifted his eyes, looking beyond her as though he could see the entire room through two inches of space. She thought that might be entirely possible. Nothing Marshal Laughton could do would surprise her. He had superhero status in her book, and his eyes missed nothing. She only hoped he didn’t have X-ray vision as she currently stood in her underwear, albeit her nicest.
His eyes came back to hers then roamed her face. Belatedly she remembered she hadn’t done her makeup yet. That hardly mattered though because she felt a soft blush suffusing her cheeks as he stared at her. His eyes dipped down to her breasts then back up.
“Your appointment is in three hours. We were lucky to get one so soon. We have work to do before the drive out to the ranch. We don’t want to fuck this up.”
She drew in a breath, surprise
d at his words, though she wondered why. She’d heard his colorful language before, and she imagined most men used those words from time to time. She’d been rather sheltered working in an elementary school, but hearing that dark, forbidden word seeping through the crack in the doorway did something to her insides. She pressed a bit closer to the door and watched as his gaze dropped down to skim the cleavage she knew he could see through the inches of space. The scent of his cologne swirled around her like a seductive cloud.
At that moment, she felt a wave of heat surge through her, bringing with it a desire to press her body against the long, lean length of his. She opened the door a few more inches, preparing to invite him inside. His gaze focused on the opening door, and in that moment, something shimmered across his face, tiny ripples that appeared to move just beneath the surface of his skin. She stared for a moment, and then those tiny ripples snapped something inside of her. She felt like a bucket of water had been tossed on her.
She froze and blinked. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as his gaze came back to her eyes. He stared at her for several heartbeats. “I said we don’t want to fuck this up.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, “of course not. I’m determined to get this job.”
He gave her a look. She didn’t know much about men in general, but she’d seen that look before. It said, “You better be.” He wanted to close her file and move on, but to do that, he had to have placed her in the new location. He’d obviously already grown tired of babysitting her.
“Can I meet you in the coffee shop?”
He stared at her for a moment, and then his eyes dipped downward. Carly’s body heated up as she realized he could see the lace of her bra. He seemed to like what he saw because he wet his lips. Just when she thought she’d burst into flames from the heat spiraling through her, he finally nodded. “Ten minutes. More than that and I’ll be up here with the key card.”
He spun around and strode down the hall. She let the door fall closed then leaned against it, trying to breathe.
What had just happened? She’d obviously had a complete nervous breakdown because she’d been on the verge of inviting Laughton in for a quick fuck. That was entirely laughable because she’d never said “a quick fuck” in her entire life, let alone had one.
Laughton made her so nervous sometimes. She didn’t know if it was because he was so handsome with his dark good looks or if she just felt like an open book when he stared at her, an open book that held a very dull plot.
She shoved away from the door, went into the bathroom, and swooped mascara over her long lashes. She decided to avoid eyeliner as the heat would no doubt smear it around so much she’d feel like she belonged in the lemur cage at the zoo. After a quick swipe of blush, she ran the lip-gloss wand over her mouth then smacked her lips together. Kissable. Too bad the marshal had left so soon. She twisted her hair into a loose knot, leaving tendrils framing her face and a whisper of bangs over her forehead. Good enough.
Back at the bed, she pulled the dark-blue skirt up her legs. She had to dress like Carla Barnhardt for one more day then she’d push her into the past where she belonged. Carla Barnhardt didn’t belong here. Carly Barnes did. She might not have been born in Texas, but as the bumper stickers said, she’d gotten there as soon as she could.
Carly took one last look at herself in the mirror and rolled up the waistline of her skirt, shortening the conservative length by at least a couple of inches. The effect made her smile. She really did have nice legs.
A glance at her watch made her hurry for the door. She had no doubt Marshal Laughton would make good on his promise to be back in ten minutes. Carly opened the door to her room and took a quick glance around before stepping outside. Gabriel had warned her to be alert for anyone that might look suspicious. He’d assured her the hit man had no way of finding her in San Antonio, but Carly knew that sometimes the impossible happened. She just didn’t want it to happen to her.
She crossed the hallway and entered the elevator, feeling a little claustrophobic. Since she’d become a target, she hated being trapped in small places without a second exit. Gabriel assured her the paranoia would go away, but in the meantime, she should use it to her advantage until checking her surroundings became second nature.
When she stepped out of the elevator, she caught a glimpse of Gabriel standing up from the table he’d taken in the coffee shop. He was obviously ready to come after her because he was buttoning his conservative dark suit coat. He ran a hand over sleek dark-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. The style sure wasn’t government issued, but it suited him completely. Given his high cheekbones and dark complexion, she thought somewhere in Marshal Laughton’s background lay a proud Native American heritage.
Gabe looked up and started around the table. When he caught sight of her, he raised his hand in acknowledgement. It was probably as close to a wave as a man like Gabriel Laughton ever got. He settled himself back on the chair with an easy grace. He watched her appreciatively as she crossed the lobby in high heels that added a little extra sway to her strut.
“Nice,” he commented before taking a sip of black coffee from the mug in his hand.
Carly wondered if he meant her outfit, or the show she’d put on for him as she walked across the long expanse of lobby. After a moment of internal debate, she decided it didn’t matter. He apparently liked what he saw, and she could only assume the Lucas brothers would share his opinion. Most men seemed to think alike when it came to the opposite sex. Maybe becoming Carly would be easier than she’d thought.
“What do we need to go over before the interview?” Carly asked. She poured herself some coffee from the carafe on the table, dumped in several creamers, then broke open a sugar packet to put in her coffee. She debated for a moment, thinking better of her choice and reached for the sugar substitute. With a small laugh, she tossed it back down and emptied the sugar into her well-creamed coffee. If she had a chance to start over, she certainly wouldn’t apologize for being herself. She would never be model thin, and she wasn’t the type woman to starve herself to be accepted. The Lucas brothers would just have to take her as they saw her. Damn the sugar, full speed ahead.
Gabriel smiled into his coffee cup as if he’d read her mind. She was happy he approved. He finished the liquid in his cup and shoved it aside to pull out a wad of papers from the open briefcase on the chair between them.
“Holy crap!” Carly dropped her coffee cup down so hard it clattered on the saucer, causing heads to turn in their direction. Gabe winced at the attention, a deep frown line appearing on his forehead. Carly leaned toward him. “You expect me to remember all that?”
Gabe’s eyes moved back and forth, gauging their privacy, then returned to pin her to her chair with a stare. She felt like a caught butterfly, and her heart hammered in her chest. So much for being inconspicuous. “Why don’t you take a freaking banner out in the newspaper announcing you’re here?” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
He gave her another disapproving look. “Of course I don’t expect you to memorize all this, but you damn sure can go over it with me and remember the important parts. I’m not going to be there to hold your hand.”
“Thank God for that,” Carly muttered.
One of his brows rose. “Did you say something, Ms. Barnes?”
She pursed her lips, confused, then gave a small shake of her head. “Right. Ms. Barnes, that’s me.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I promise I’ll get the hang of it eventually.”
“It’s both our asses if you don’t,” Gabe said. “Now, tell me what you know about Tyler Lucas.”
* * * *
Carly slowed down as she neared the entrance to Cattail Ranch. Across a rolling valley of vibrant green grass and tiny blue flowers, the house stood in the distance, nestled on a gentle hill dotted with old oaks. She’d seen pictures, but it still looked impressive standing sentinel on that hill
. It looked like old money. Oil money to be exact. The Lucas brothers were loaded from a great-grandfather that had been a wildcatter back when individual daredevils were making a fortune in the oil industry. Of course, since then, every generation of Lucas men had made their own fortune, adding onto the family heritage until Carly suspected they were richer than God. As she stared at the gorgeous house, she thought it might be true.
Although large and sprawling, the house wasn’t ostentatious. It spread out over the landscape like a patchwork quilt sewn by generations of a loving family. If she’d had more time to look, she thought she could recognize different architectural elements from several hundred years of Texas history. In fact, she was sure that small side porch had been built by the early pioneers before the Texas War for Independence, possibly a whole decade before the Alamo had—
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the loud blast of an angry horn sounded behind her. Her gaze jerked back to the road. As her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, she caught a sparkling reflection of light on a windshield and a glimpse of dull red in her rearview mirror. A blur of movement streaked past her side window, and a truck shot around her with only inches to spare. The pickup should have been on its last legs. It looked so old she expected red paint chips to splatter in its wake. How could a decrepit old truck like that have such life? It spun crazily on the dirt shoulder as it rounded the bend in the road and disappeared behind a stand of trees, leaving a trail of exhaust and cloud of dust for her to drive through. Nearly choking, she coughed and rolled up her window.
Asshole.
Nothing like the smell of burned oil, and now she probably had it all over her. The entrance to the ranch had to be right around the bend, so she flicked her right turn signal in case any other impatient drivers caught her by surprise. She would have liked to pull over and gather her thoughts, not to mention douse herself with perfume to mask that exhaust stink, but there wasn’t time. In ten minutes, she’d be talking with the Lucas men, trying to convince them they needed her as their nanny.
