THE COWBOY FLING

by Dawn Atkins

  But surely, she had feelings for him, too. He thought of her sex-flushed face, her cries of passion. No one could make love the way she had without feeling more than lust. He had to hope that her feelings were strong enough to withstand the truth about the little deception he and Wade had cooked up on her behalf.

  Maybe he could convince her to stay here instead of going back to Phoenix. She was happy here at the café. He could work construction in Tucson. She could move into his house.

  Yeah. Maybe this could work.

  What if it didn't? He couldn't help asking himself. What if deep down Lacey was like Heather? What if, when push came to shove, she did want a rich, ambitious paper-pusher like Pierce Winslow? No, there was more to her than that. He'd seen the joy on her face when she worked on the café. She liked real work, too, just as he did. Work that engaged her body and soul, not just her intellect. And if she loved him like he loved her, everything would fall into place from there.

  Nervous about the next step, Max had to get up. He didn't want to wake Lacey. She needed her sleep. The restaurant opening had exhausted her and he'd done his best to finish her off. With a last, loving look at her sleeping form, he carefully climbed out of bed, grabbed his abandoned clothes and tiptoed out of the room.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  «^»

  The first thing Lacey noticed when she woke up was that her body ached all over. But it was a satisfied ache, like from a good workout. In a quick rush, she remembered exactly what that workout had consisted of. Sex with Max. Instantly, she wanted round two. More like round six. She'd lost count.

  But Max was not in the bed with her. She noticed how bright the light was and checked her clock. Eight-thirty. She'd slept in. Then she saw a note on Max's pillow.

  Didn't want to disturb you. Went to take care of a few things. I'll meet you at the diner for lunch and we can talk … about everything.

  He wanted to talk. That gave her a shiver of pleasure. That was so uncowboy-like. Maybe she was wishfully thinking, but even cowboys settled down eventually, didn't they?

  No, she was still in the afterglow of all that lovin'. Max might have feelings for her, but would he change his whole life to be with her? Unlikely. He'd bristled when she'd suggested going into bookkeeping. And she sure couldn't trail him around the west from cabin to campground to ranch. Even though, the way she felt right now, she was ready to buy a tent. That was the haze of infatuation. When that cooled down, she'd be back to her real life. And real life centered on her breakfast meeting with Wade.

  Wade! She'd almost forgotten. He was meeting her at nine at the diner. Nine sharp, she'd said, so she couldn't be late. They'd be planning her future, hopefully, setting the date for her to join the corporate team.

  She scrambled into the shower, but even as she tried to think about what she'd say to her brother, she couldn't get Max out of her mind. She clung to the shreds of what they'd shared the night before. As she washed herself, she remembered how he'd felt inside her. And his touch on each body part. His mouth had been there and there and there. She even had a bite mark on her ankle. Ooh. He'd spent a lot of time on her toes. She'd never thought of toes as erogenous zones, but, boy, were they.

  No, no, no. She had to get her priorities straight. First Wade, then Max.

  At a quarter to nine she headed for the diner. Wade's red Porsche coupe was already parked in front. Before she walked onto the porch, she paused to admire the coffeehouse. It looked happy and sparkling in its new paint, with its new neon sign of a steaming purple coffee mug set at a jaunty angle. It looked as proud as she felt.

  "I did that," she said out loud. "I made that happen." She was so happy. And she loved the place, she realized, so much. Don't get too attached, an inside voice warned. She'd have to move on. Still, she felt rooted to the flagstone sidewalk and connected to the quaint building before her.

  But her brother wasn't inside. Sandy, the waitress on duty, told her he'd arrived early and Jasper had invited him over to check out his studio. She decided to go over there to make sure Wade saw the possibilities of Jasper's gallery. They'd already gotten bids on the modest construction needed to make the studio into a gallery and Max had helped Jasper get the small-business loan he needed.

  Besides, she wanted to get down to business with Wade right away. She had a rendezvous with Max at lunchtime. Lacey laughed at herself. What was the matter with her? She was about to discuss her entire future, but she could hardly wait to hightail it back to her trailer for more cowboy sex. It was like rushing through the prime rib dinner just to get to the chocolate soufflé. But what a soufflé!

  As she passed Jasper's trailer, she heard Wade's voice coming from his back porch. She headed in that direction, then heard another voice. A familiar voice that made her stop short. Max. Wade was talking to Max, of all people. They'd never even met as far as she knew. She got close enough to see them, though their backs were to her.

  Instinctively, she quieted her steps and walked closer, her ears tuned to their words.

  "I mean it, Max," Wade said. "Knowing you were supervising took the worry off me completely. I knew Lace couldn't get in over her head with you keeping an eye on her."

  Keeping an eye on her? What? Max had been supervising her? The words echoed in Lacey's mind, the meaning thundering through her like a train through a tunnel. Wade knew Max. Wade had asked Max to watch over her. Her stomach dropped to her toes and her head began to pound. She froze, horrified and stunned, wanting to run, but she had to hear the rest of the terrible story.

  "The grand opening was a little pricey."

  "She wanted to impress you."

  "I know." Wade sighed indulgently. "But at least she's gotten proving herself out of the way. Now I can get her up to Phoenix and she'll settle down. Maybe even give Pierce another chance."

  Lacey's blood throbbed through her. They were talking about her like she was a child they'd been indulging.

  Wade reached over and patted Max's shoulder. "All thanks to you, Max."

  "Don't thank me, Wade. I—"

  "No, don't thank him," Lacey said sharply, walking toward them on numb legs. "Don't thank him for anything."

  Their heads whipped around at the same time.

  "Lacey!" they both said. Max jumped up.

  "Sorry to eavesdrop, but you were talking about me," she said bitterly.

  "Let me explain, Lacey," Max said.

  "No need to. Let's see if I got it. Wade hired you to supervise his airhead sister. Keep me out of trouble."

  "It wasn't like that, Lacey," Wade said. "I didn't hire him. I just asked him to do me a favor."

  "Oh, I'm so glad to hear this didn't cost you any money, Wade. You didn't even think enough of me to let me handle things." Her voice shook and she swallowed down the urge to cry. She turned to Max. "You knew how much this meant, and you let me go along thinking I was doing it on my own." She stopped because she knew she'd cry any minute and she had to stay mad.

  "Don't blame Max, Lacey," Wade said. "It was my idea. And, anyway, he was the one who talked me into letting you renovate the place. If it hadn't been for Max, I'd have stopped you the first week."

  "You'd have stopped me?"

  "It sounded like a crazy idea to me, but Max said your concept was good and you'd done your homework, so I let it go."

  "You trusted Max," she said flatly, tears stinging her eyes. "Over me."

  "Not over you. And, of course I trusted him. He's the head accountant in our Tucson office."

  "You're an accountant?" She looked at Max in amazement. Then she thought about those ultra-sharp pencils and how quickly he'd taken to her spreadsheet. "Of course you are. I should have known. 'I'm just good with math,' my Aunt Fanny!"

  "I'm not an accountant anymore," Max said.

  "Oh, right. I forgot. You're a cowboy. Except you keep falling off your horse. I can't believe I trusted you. I—" She broke off, afraid she'd cry.

  "Lacey," Max said. "Please."


  "Max was just looking out for you," Wade said.

  She whirled on her brother. "This was Max's project, wasn't it? I was just the idiot dancing around thinking she was in charge." Hurt replaced her shock and anger and now she knew she would cry. She turned away to hide her tears.

  "It's not as bad as you're making it out to be," Wade said.

  "I don't know how it could be any worse. I've gotta go." She half ran toward her trailer.

  She heard Max tell Wade he'd go after her, like she was a hysterical female they had to soothe into passivity.

  She reached her trailer, just as Max caught up.

  "Let me explain."

  She opened the door, went inside and tried to shut him out, but he pushed his way in. She backed away from him, steeling herself against him.

  "Let me tell you how this happened," he said. He stepped closer.

  "Get out! Why should I believe anything you tell me? You've been lying to me from the minute we met!" Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

  "I'm not leaving until you listen to me," he said steadily.

  "All right. Whatever it takes to get you to leave me alone." She folded her arms against him, breathing hard, fighting back more tears, trying to stay furious. Fury was strong. Hurt was weak. She wouldn't even sit down.

  Talking fast, his hands making quick gestures, Max explained his friendship with Wade, the job Wade got him, his quitting, Wade's ranch job and the favor he'd promised. He stepped toward her again. "Once I saw what a good idea you had, I thought you deserved a chance, so I talked Wade into helping."

  She backed deliberately away until the backs of her knees hit her sofa, stopping her. "I didn't need any favors."

  "Yes, you did, actually. You were undercapitalized, but what Wade kicked in made up the difference." He smiled sympathetically.

  That made her even more angry. "So I didn't even finance it on my own?" She stared at him, her anger growing by the minute.

  "Not quite. Almost. Look, this was still your project."

  "In name only." She wrapped her arms around herself, in a hug she hoped could hold in her despair.

  "All I did was help you," Max insisted, going to her, gripping her by her upper arms. "And it worked out all right. The coffeehouse is a success. You got what you wanted."

  "Hardly." She twisted away from him. Against her will, a fat tear dropped onto her cheek. She palmed it away.

  "Listen, there's something else important we have to talk about," Max said, his dark eyes earnest and intent, as if the terrible discovery had been only a blip on the screen compared with what he was about to say. He was so darned sure of himself.

  "What's more important than this? This was my dream."

  "What's more important is the fact that I…" He hesitated. She could see he wanted to reach for her, but her resistance made him keep his hands at his sides. Good decision. If he'd touched her, she might have punched him.

  "That you what?" she demanded.

  He licked his lips, locked her gaze and said in a rush, "I love you, Lacey."

  "You what?" Her arms unlocked and dropped to her sides in amazement.

  "I love you. And I hope you feel the same." He searched her face. His was full of longing and worry. "I want us to be together."

  "You love me?" Her voice quavered. Max loved her. That was exactly what she'd longed to hear. She'd been afraid it was impossible, but now he was saying it and she felt numb to the words. Everything she'd built had become dust in her mind. So what if he loved her? She felt like the blood had drained from her body.

  "I'm sorry I lied to you. I was just trying to protect you." Forgive me, said his eyes. He took a chance and gripped her shoulders. She felt desperation in his strong fingers, as he pulled her toward him. He was going to kiss her. As if that would make everything right.

  She stiffened, pushed out of his grip and stepped back, afraid a kiss would make her forget the terrible truth.

  "Come on, Lacey." He shoved his fingers through his hair impatiently, turned away, then back. "It's not so terrible, is it? You succeeded. You renovated the restaurant, you impressed your brother."

  "No, you impressed my brother." She stuck a finger at him. "He gave you the credit. I was just the little worker bee, your cute little assistant." She let her eyes blaze at him. "Like Kenny the Magician. And once again I have egg on my face."

  "Wade's a little overprotective. Brothers are like that. I am not your brother."

  "No, you're not. But you're no different. If you loved me, you should have told me the truth, even let me fall on my face if I had to. At least it would have been my failure. Now I'm right where I started with Wade. I haven't proven anything."

  "Who cares what Wade thinks?" Max said. His eyes sparked angrily and he made an impatient sound. "Make yourself happy, not your brother. You made the coffeehouse what it is. Be proud of that. Stay here and manage it. You don't need a corporate job. Hell, you don't even want that. That's not you."

  "Don't tell me what's me and what isn't me! You don't understand a thing about me if you could say that." Anger rushed through her. He was like Wade – thinking he knew what she needed better than she did. She felt smothered. "I liked you a hell of a lot better when I thought you were a cowboy. A cowboy – even a lame one – is better than a lying, patronizing, arrogant … accountant!"

  "Lacey, I love you. I want us to find a way to be together." But he didn't move toward her, didn't try to draw her back. There was angry impatience in his tone.

  "How can you love me? You don't know a thing about me. And I certainly don't know a thing about you, Max McLane. Is that even your real name?"

  "Of course it is. Look, if you'd just get off your high horse a minute and be reasonable – see what's happened for what it is – it will be all right. We were a team, okay? Admittedly, you weren't in on the whole picture, but I helped you succeed. And I did it for you, because I care about you."

  "You did it for my brother."

  "That's bull and you know it. Forget what Wade thinks, forget that corporate crap and stay here where you're happy."

  "You can quit and run away if you want, Max, but don't think you can drag me with you. Just because you couldn't hack it in the business world, don't assume I can't."

  "I quit because I didn't want that life, not because I couldn't hack it." There was a warning sound in his voice.

  "Sure. Whatever. I don't know what to believe about you, Max. Why should I believe anything you tell me? I don't even know if you really love me. I feel like I should demand a polygraph test or something." That was going too far, but she couldn't help it. Her dream had crashed around her feet and Max was telling her she didn't want it in the first place. Who was he, anyway? He wasn't the man she'd fallen in love with, that was certain.

  "I'm telling you the truth," he said harshly.

  She had to end this. She'd fallen in love with a man who didn't respect her dream or her, a man who'd baby her just like her brother did. "Well, I don't believe you. And I never will. Ever."

  "What are you afraid of?" His words were quiet, final sounding, as if he'd figured out something and he was just waiting for her to confirm it.

  "I'm not afraid of anything. I just don't want to be lied to. You don't love me. You want me maybe, and you feel guilty for lying to me, but it's not love."

  "You don't want to believe me, do you?" he said coldly, but his eyes were hurt. "Because if you believed me you'd have to do something about us. And you don't want to do that. I don't fit into the little corporate suit you've hung up in your mental closet for someone like Pierce Winslow. I'm not him and I never will be."

  "At least Pierce Winslow doesn't pretend to be something he's not."

  He gave her a long look. "I love you, Lacey. I'm sorry that scares you, but I can't do this by myself. I swore when I found a woman I wanted to spend my life with she'd have to accept me for who I am – and accept herself, too. I may be at a crossroads in my life, but at least I know what I'm looking fo
r. You don't have a clue what you want, Lacey. And I can't help you see it."

  "Good. Because the last thing I want is any more help from you, Max McLane." she said, lifting her wobbly chin in defiance. "You and your so-called help can go to hell!"

  "Do you mean that, Lacey? Really?" His look was long, serious, demanding. This was for all the marbles, he was telling her. No going back.

  "With all my heart." It was the first time she'd ever lied to him.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  «^»

  Three weeks later Lacey tapped her Palm Pilot stylus on the marble surface of the Wellington corporate office conference table, and tried to focus on the financial statement the strategic planning team was discussing. Instead, she found herself wondering whether Ramón had fixed the leak in the soda dispenser and whether Monty had molted and how Max looked these days…

  Stop it. Be in the now. But the now was gray and dull. Her gaze bounced from the gray marble table to the gray suits of the five men who were in the meeting with her to the gray of the sky out the window on Central Avenue

  .

  She'd gotten what she wanted, after all. Once her hurt had faded enough so she could speak to Wade, she'd shown him her presentation, and he'd pronounced it top-notch and offered her the spot on the management team. He'd done it out of guilt, she was certain, and she hated that. It felt like cheating.

  She'd swallowed her pride and taken the job, though, promising to prove herself worthy of the post, even if she hadn't gotten it honestly.

  So, she had what she wanted, but the joy of it was thin and distant, more intellectual than visceral. She told herself she was just going through an adjustment period, or maybe she was afraid of success like the self-help book she'd bought: Your Own Worst Enemy.

  "Lacey, you with us?" Wade called to her from the head of the table.

  "Yes, um, sure, what?"

  "From your experience renovating the café, would you say ten percent is realistic?"

  Ten percent? Ten percent of what for what? She wracked her brain to remember what the devil they were discussing. "Um, ten percent sounds about right. Sure, ten percent."