Unbuttoned

by Maisey Yates

  INTERMIX BOOKS

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  UNBUTTONED

  An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  InterMix eBook edition / June 2013

  Copyright © 2013 by Maisey Yates.

  Excerpt from Unexpected copyright © 2013 by Maisey Yates.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-61651-2

  INTERMIX

  InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group

  and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Special Excerpt from Unexpected

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  About the Author

  This one’s for you, mom. I aimed for the stars because you made me feel like they were well within my reach. Your love and guidance brought me to where I am now, and no thanks will ever be enough for that.

  Chapter One

  Lucas sometimes wondered if Carly Denton reserved that facial expression particularly for him. He’d never seen her make it at another person. She smiled at most people, even complete strangers. But not at him. With him, those normally lush, pink lips were pulled into a tight line, blue eyes glittering with a kind of cool disdain that warned him to keep his distance.

  In her defense, he’d just walked into her office unannounced and late in the day. He hadn’t even given her a chance to fake being okay with his presence, which she did a decent job of sometimes.

  Not today, but sometimes.

  “I was just about to leave, Lucas. You don’t have an appointment, do you?” She straightened, shoulders back, fine brows arched. She looked like a strict headmistress. Which, he had to admit, a part of him kind of liked.

  The office was just as severe as the woman. A showcase for just how neat and orderly she was, and lacking in any personality. Pictures on the wall of places he knew she’d never been to. A bookshelf filled with books that were probably just there because the leather bindings and gilded lettering looked nice, not because there was anything interesting in them. Because for Carly, it was all about image.

  Given the image her family had presented to the community during her childhood, he couldn’t really blame her. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t stand to be loosened up, either.

  He took his hat off and set it on her desk, palms flat on the glossy surface. He knew invading her space like that would annoy her. Knew that cluttering up that pristine surface would get her back up. But he considered attempting to loosen Carly up a bit of a hobby. Though she always resisted.

  “Nope. But I had some important things to talk to you about concerning the Ride for Hope.”

  “What does that have to do with you?”

  “I’m representing the Rodeo Association for this project.”

  “What? No. You aren’t. I mean, it seems like someone would have told me.”

  “Warned you?”

  She spoke in a monotone, overly calm voice. “It’s just, you don’t normally do charity things, do you? I mean, unless it’s a bikini car wash.”

  “I didn’t organize that. I did get my truck washed though, but in my defense, my truck was dirty.”

  She arched one brow. “Was it?”

  “Your brother went too, so unless you raked him over the coals for his attendance, I think you need to let it go.”

  “I absolutely did rake him over the coals for it. That is simply not the kind of image we want Silver Creek to have. This town is about family.” She cleared her throat and sat back in the chair, her hands folded in front of her. She was so damn prissy.

  She hadn’t always been. He could remember her, thirteen, barefoot, with mud up to her knees and her hair a tangled mess behind her. She’d had freckles then. She might still, but it was hard to tell with that coat of makeup spread over her face. It made her too perfect. Too clean.

  Like her office, everything about Carly was a bit too something. Too clean, too perfect, too orderly. Her pink lipstick matched her pink nails. Her gray suit jacket was tailored perfectly, as were her gray pants. The pink shirt beneath, of course, matched the nails and lipstick. Blonde hair sleek, shiny and not one strand out of place

  She looked pretty disturbed by the mention of the car wash, and he wondered if he’d actually pushed her too far this time. Pushing her too far wasn’t his aim. If he did that she might boot him out of his office, and then he couldn’t play with her anymore.

  “Ah, yes, sorry, I had a lapse. Well, when you’re done playing morality police maybe we could get back to the business at hand.”

  “I don’t particularly want to do business with a man who considers dress clothes to be a pair of Wranglers that don’t have a hole in them.”

  “And a bigger belt buckle.”

  “Thank you for reinforcing my point.”

  “I don’t really like having to deal with a woman who probably irons her socks, but this is about the charity. Do you think the other members of the Silver Creek City Council will be happy to know you chased the liaison for the event out the door with your special brand of meanness?”

  She frowned, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d actually hurt her feelings. “I’m not mean.”

  “You aren’t sunshine and light where I’m concerned, sugar. Never have been.”

  “That’s because you’re . . .” He was sure she was about to spit out a particularly vile insult, but then thought better of it. Her lips puckered in tighter, and she looked like she was chewing on her words. Like she was trying to demolish them before they burst into the room and kneed him in the balls. “You and I don’t always see eye to eye.”

  And he’d never been certain why. Or what had happened. All he knew was that the first time Carly had come home from college, she’d started avoiding him, and when he did see her, there was no more warmth, no more genuine smiles. All he
got was frosty reserve and distance. No matter what he did, not matter what he said, he got sour-apple face and a tart response.

  He missed the freckles. And the smile. But he doubted he was going to see either today.

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “But I’m sure we can get along for a while. It’s for charity, after all.” She smiled at him, smooth as glass. She really was pretty when she smiled.

  “Admirable,” he said. “I’m here to drop off donations.” He held up the blue bank bag and and she extended a delicate hand and took it from him, careful to make sure her fingers didn’t touch his, he noticed.

  “Great. How much is in here?”

  “Enough to cover the cost of the food,” he said. “We still need to get donations of either money or time to get the rest of the events up and running.”

  “Well, I’ve got Delia to cook, and the wait staff from the restaurant are coming and serving for free. So that’s labor. We still need someone to man the hayride. And . . . you know, provide the wagon and the hay.”

  “I’ll put in a call to the Mitchell ranch and see what we can get. They always give.” The Mitchell family was a pillar in the Silver Creek community. If something needed to be done, everyone knew they could count on them.

  “Well, that’s . . . nice of you.”

  “I can be pretty nice, Carly, if you’d just give me a chance.”

  “Does that wounded act usually work on women?”

  “Always.”

  “You’re shameless.”

  “Always have been.”

  “Always will be?” Her expression tightened again, some of the chill returning. Suddenly, he didn’t find it quite as funny.

  “Every time you see me you look at me like you just sucked a lemon.” He reached out and put his thumb on her bottom lip. “Relax a little.”

  He felt her grow completely stiff beneath his touch, her lip tightening. Her shoulders curled in, her eyes like chips of ice. “I can’t relax with you touching me like that.” She pulled away. “And this is why I don’t like to deal with you.”

  “Why? Because I call you on your attitude?”

  “Because you walk around like you’re God’s gift, and you expect every woman to want to open the package.” Color flooded her cheeks. “I didn’t . . . that came out . . .”

  “Package, huh?”

  “Lucas, this is what I’m talking about,” she said, her voice turning stiff and formal. It shouldn’t turn him on. But it did a little. That, come to think of it, was probably why he liked needling her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. Business, right? No room for jokes. Not in Carly’s world.”

  Carly almost corrected him. But she didn’t. Because in a lot of ways, he was right. She didn’t have room for jokes. Not with him. Not with a man who had the power to get under her skin like he did. It was especially bad when he ambushed her with his presence, like today. If she had time to prepare, she could deal. She could even act kind of normal. But she needed to be warned.

  Lucas Miller had long been a bur under her saddle. He and her older brother had terrorized her constantly when she’d been a teenager. And then her annoyance with him had started turning into something else. And she’d done her very best to turn it back to annoyance. Especially once she’d realized that he was just the kind of man she ought to avoid.

  She didn’t have time for a man like him. She had ambition instead.

  More than that, she wasn’t wasting her time on the kind of man she knew would never settle down. She’d watched that drama play out in her parents’ marriage, and she’d been more than happy to learn from their mistakes.

  “Well, you’re here for business,” she said. “So maybe that’s what we should stick to.”

  He smiled, that cocky, irritating smile of his that made him look so damn hot she felt the need to start shedding clothes. To cool off. Not for any other reason. No. Certainly not so she could be skin to skin with him.

  No. Not that. Never that.

  Still, it was impossible, even for her, to ignore how sexy he was. Tall, broad chest, lean waist and hips. Jeans that were just tight enough to give hints to some serious assets—not that she’d looked.

  He was always a little disorderly. Dark stubble coloring his jaw perpetually, like he was constantly a few hours past due for a shave. His hair always a little too long, looking like a very intimate acquaintance had run her fingers through it while receiving the gift that was currently tightly wrapped by those jeans.

  She wasn’t sure how he managed to not have hat hair, like most of the cowboys she knew. No, Lucas Miller never had the decency to look so unfortunate.

  Another annoying thing about him. But he had enough women waiting around to fawn over him. She didn’t need to join the herd.

  “I think we covered all the business. Unless you had something specific you were wondering about?” Lucas said.

  Oh, shoot. She did. She really wanted to just say no and send him on his way. “How many riders do you have for the saddle bronc event?”

  “Five or six. I think I can get more; I just need to make some calls. The Pendleton Round-Up is happening just a couple weeks after this. I’m thinking I can find out who might be in the area and see if they want to pop over and raise some money for a good cause.”

  Why did he have to be efficient and helpful? “Great, thank you.” The words nearly choked her, especially when they earned her one of his smiles.

  “You’re very welcome.” That smile lingered, and she felt the impact down to her toes. If she wasn’t wearing restrictive heels, she would have curled them. “Can I go now, ma’am?”

  The way he said that sent a shiver down her spine that she tried very hard to ignore. He was being patronizing. She should be annoyed. Not . . . shivery.

  “Yes,” she said, trying not to sound too much like she was giving him permission, because for some strange reason, he seemed to enjoy it. And a part of her, a traitorous, evil part of her, enjoyed him enjoying it.

  “All right then. I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah,” she said. Hopefully much later.

  And when he walked out, she most definitely didn’t look at his butt. No, she did not.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh . . . Mac. Why didn’t you mention that he was coming?” Carly peeked out the kitchen window and watched the navy blue pickup roar down the driveway and stop in front of the house.

  Mac looked up from his place at the dinner table, his expression bland. “Who?”

  “Lucas.” Carly practically growled the name. But she’d already seen him today and that was one dose of Lucas too many in her opinion.

  She’d avoided him quite nicely in the two years since she’d returned from college. But now that the fundraiser was forcing them to cross professional paths, avoiding him wasn’t going to be quite so simple.

  It didn’t help that Mac was being spontaneous, rather than sticking to his usual guys’ night schedule, which also played a big part in her ability to avoid Lucas.

  “He comes over for a beer all the time. I didn’t think I needed to mention it. Anyway, he wants to see the finished kitchen.”

  “You still might have mentioned it.”

  “Did you not make enough food or something?”

  She was ready to brain her brother with the saucepan she had on the burner. It would knock him cold, and scald him. It was a happy thought, but not one she’d follow through on. “I made enough,” she said carefully , “but it should have been, you know, leftovers, for your work lunches.”

  “I can make my own lunch. You don’t have to be such a hen.”

  “I like taking care of you.”

  “I’m your older brother. That’s supposed to be my line.”

  She crossed the room and set a bowl of salad on the large, mission-style dining table before
going back to the stove.

  Everything was open in her brother’s home, the kitchen, living room and dining area all a part of one expansive area. She liked it, usually. It was certainly nicer cooking here than in her little house. But today that meant that, no matter what, she would be sharing space with Lucas Miller.

  Sharing space with Lucas Miller made her cranky. And edgy. And fluttery. She disliked all of the aforementioned feelings, which, really, was mainly why she disliked Lucas.

  “Yes, well, until you get a new housekeeper to cook and clean up after you I worry that you’re going to expire from starvation beneath a pile of laundry.”

  “And we all know mom’s not going to drop by with any chicken soup,” Mac said, pushing his baseball cap back and running a hand over his hair.

  “No, she’s too busy keeping a tail on dad, watching him meet up with bimbos at sleazy hotels. Who says you can’t go home again? Our childhood lives on.”

  “Yay us.”

  The front door swung open and Lucas walked in, all broad and tall and grinning. It made Carly’s stomach curl in tight.

  “Hey,” Mac said.

  “Hey. Place looks great, Mac. They did a hell of a job.”

  “Yeah, no more yellow tile,” Mac said.

  Then Lucas’s focus landed on Carly. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise?”

  He didn’t mean it. She could hear that in his tone. And maybe she couldn’t really blame him for not being thrilled to see her. She hadn’t been very friendly with him earlier. She never was.

  But that was more about her than him, and she knew it. If she was friendly, they might end up spending time together, and more time with Lucas meant . . . What she needed was sanity. Self-protection. His ego didn’t really come into it.

  “Isn’t it?” she asked, dumping her pasta from a pan into a bowl. If he was going to play civil, then so would she. She was hardly going to fire barbs at him over Mac’s head. Not that that usually stopped either of them. “Have a seat, dinner’s almost ready.”

  She spent dinner watching Mac and Lucas BS about everything. Women, horses and Lucas’s rodeo rides past. There was something vaguely comforting about it. Something normal.