“—that doesn’t mean I’m ready for more, though. But we are engaged, Toby.” She wagged a finger at him. “You’re the one who’s waking me up at six in the morning so Rebecca won’t find out we’re not sleeping together.”
“Yeah, so?” He frowned a little, not following her train of thought.
“Well, don’t you think she’d expect to see an engaged couple kissing now and then?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Hugging? Looking like we’re intimate even if we’re not?”
He hadn’t considered that, but she had a point. If he kept treating her like a pal or a little sister or something, Rebecca would notice and start wondering. “Damn it.”
“Ah,” she said, satisfied. “Good. Now maybe you won’t freak out over a simple kiss. And you’d better get used to the idea, because we should do more of it.”
Insulted, he countered, “A, I didn’t freak out. B, there was nothing simple about that kiss.”
“You don’t think so?” she asked, turning around and heading toward the door. “For me, it was nice, but nothing special.”
He stared after her, stunned. She was playing him. Had to be. Because that kiss had nearly lifted the top of his head off, and he’d damn well felt her heart beating a wild rhythm. No way was she as unmoved and blasé about it as she was pretending.
When she was at the door, she paused and looked back at him. “Seriously, Toby, if we’re going to make Rebecca and everyone else believe this marriage is real, then we’d better practice kissing until we’re good at it.”
She gave him a half smile and left. Toby stared at the empty doorway for a long count of ten, then tipped his beer back for another drink.
“Practice? If we get any better at it, I’m a dead man.”
Seven
Dinner at the TCC on Saturday night was a treat. Naomi had always liked the club, and once women were allowed in as members, she’d taken full advantage of her new rights. She, Cecelia and Simone had headed the redecorating committee, and they’d done what they could to spruce up the old place.
Not that they’d been given free rein. But painting the entryway and the restaurant and the ladies’ room had helped to brighten things up. They were too steeped in tradition here to willingly let go of the Texas artifacts, documents and pictures decorating the walls, and a part of Naomi understood it. She was a Texan, too, after all. But at least those walls were painted a soft gray now, with fresh white trim, and it looked brighter in here even with the dim lighting.
Sitting across the table from Toby, she took a second to admire it. The dining room in the Texas Cattleman’s Club really hadn’t changed much in decades, and even with a fresh coat of paint, it remained very much what it always had been—an upscale restaurant with roots in the past. Tables were draped in white cloth, and on every table was a bud vase with a single yellow rose in it. Soft jazz spilled out of overhead speakers, and the brass sconces on the wall threw out shafts of pale light. The atmosphere was old-world, but the clientele was a mixture of the older generation and younger. Conversations rose and fell like the tides, with a sprinkling of laughter now and then to keep things bright.
Naomi looked at Toby and just managed to squelch a sigh. He wore a white dress shirt, black jacket and black slacks. His black boots were shined to perfection, and he’d capped everything off with a black Stetson that made him look like a well-dressed outlaw. Her insides shivered, and her stomach did a long, slow roll. That sensation still caught her by surprise, despite how often she’d been experiencing it lately.
Desire pumped through her and she fought it down, because really, he hadn’t said a word about that kiss since it happened two nights ago, so maybe he hadn’t felt what she had. Wanted what she had—did.
And maybe she’d been trying to tempt him, to remind him of that kiss when she chose what to wear tonight. Her short, bright red dress hugged her breasts and her growing curves proudly. The neckline was square and deep and supported by inch-wide straps across her shoulders. Her red heels gave her an extra three inches of height, which she was always in favor of—plus, they made her legs look great.
He’d noticed, because she’d seen the flare of approval in his eyes when he first saw her tonight. But he’d been cool, controlled, even a little distant since they sat down at the restaurant.
Two days since she’d kissed him on impulse and found so much more than she’d expected. When his mouth fused to hers and his arms came around her, every cell in Naomi’s body had come alive. Sitting on his lap, she’d felt his body tighten, and just remembering it now had her shifting slightly in her seat.
But long, luscious kisses couldn’t make up for the sheer panic in his eyes when he pulled away from her. When he’d announced that for her own good, he was stepping back.
Infuriating to think about it even now. Naomi made up her own mind, and she didn’t appreciate him making decisions for her. After all, she wasn’t the type to just leap into bed without thinking about it. Although, she thought as she glanced down at her baby bump, she’d done it at least once. And maybe that was what Toby had been thinking. That she’d slept with Gio so easily, why wouldn’t she jump him, too?
God, that was humiliating.
Especially when it was true. If he’d made the slightest move, Naomi would have willingly gone to bed with him, and forget the bargain they’d made. She’d never felt anything like that kiss before, and oh, how she wanted to know what else he could make her feel.
“What in the hell are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
“What?” She jolted a little, immensely grateful he couldn’t read minds.
“Just a tip, Naomi, but poker’s not your game.” He shook his head. “I’m sitting here watching your expression shift and change with every thought running through your brain. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said. Though she wanted to talk about that kiss and the way he’d pulled back and shut her down, this wasn’t the place for that conversation. Not when they were surrounded by half the town. “I’m just mentally packing, preparing for the trip tomorrow.”
“Right.” Clearly, he didn’t believe her. But he was going to accept it. “Okay. Wes said he’d have his jet ready to leave whenever we get to the airport.”
Toby had arranged to borrow Wes Jackson’s private jet for the trip to LA, and Naomi was looking forward to it. She was so nervous about this upcoming meeting that being able to pace restlessly on the flight was going to be nice.
Actually, Toby had taken not only their flight but their hotel reservations out of her hands and didn’t mention it until it was done. She should have been irritated, since she was completely capable of making reservations, but instead, she thought it was sweet. Which only went to prove that their kiss had seriously short-circuited her brain.
“You didn’t have to ask Wes for the use of his plane.”
Toby shrugged. “He wasn’t using it. Said it was no big deal, and it’s better than flying commercial.”
“It would have to be,” she said and tried a smile. His eyes gleamed in the candlelight as he watched her. “I’m glad you’re still going with me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“After the other night...” There, she’d brought it up anyway, despite vowing that she wouldn’t. But then again, it was hard not to talk about something that was constantly on her mind.
“You were right,” he said, tapping his fingers against the tabletop.
“That’s unexpected,” she said, keeping her voice even, soft, not sure where he was going with this. “But I’m always happy to hear it. What was I right about?”
He leaned closer. “About showing affection for each other. If we want to make this marriage look real to everyone, then you were right.” As if to prove it, he reached across the table and took her hand in his.
Heat skittered up her arm to settle in her chest. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, and his gaze locked on hers. “I’m with you, Naomi. For the long haul. We made a deal, and I keep my word. You know that.”
“I never doubted it,” she said honestly. No matter what else, Toby McKittrick kept his promises. Which meant, she thought sadly, that he would not be the one to cross that no-sex line. If the line was to break, it was up to her to do it. Now all she had to do was figure out if it was what she really wanted or not.
“Good. So we’ll show affection. Make this marriage as real as we can...” He paused, then added, “While keeping to the bargain we already made.” As if everything were settled, he gave her hand a pat and let her go to sit back and pick up his after-dinner coffee.
Naomi stewed quietly. How was it possible to both win and lose at the same time?
“Naomi!” Cecelia, a wide smile lighting up her face, hurried up to their table with Deacon just a few steps behind her. “Oh, I’m so glad we ran into you tonight.” She glanced across the table. “Hi, Toby. Don’t mean to interrupt, but I just have to tell someone.”
“What’s going on?” Naomi asked, standing to hug her friend.
Cecelia gave her a squeeze, then reached back for Deacon’s hand before looking at Naomi again. “We just found out today. We’re having a girl.” Her eyes filled with tears that she blinked furiously to keep at bay. “God, I’ve been tearing up all afternoon. Can’t seem to stop myself. Don’t really want to. I’m going to have a daughter, Naomi.”
Happy for her friend, Naomi pulled her in for another hug and then kissed Deacon’s cheek. “Congratulations, you two.”
“Yeah,” Toby said, “add mine to that.” He shook Deacon’s hand. “That’s great news. Really.”
“Yeah, it is,” Deacon said, pulling Cecelia to his side and holding on to her as if worried she might try to make a break for it. “And if she’s half as gorgeous as her mother, she’s going to be a beauty.”
“Deacon...” Cecelia sighed a little and went up on her toes to give him a kiss. “When will you find out, Naomi? Can’t wait to see what you’re going to have.”
“I was thinking about being surprised,” Naomi admitted, only because she couldn’t say that up until a couple of weeks ago, she hadn’t really allowed herself to think about the baby.
“Oh, how will you get things ready?” Cecelia asked. “No, you’ve got to know. The suspense would kill me.”
Laughing, Naomi said, “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, good. Now, we’re going to have dinner and plan our baby girl’s future, right up through college,” Cecelia said, laughing. “Oh, Naomi, you can help me with the design and furnishings for the nursery...”
“I’d love to.” It would be great practice for setting up a nursery at the ranch. She hadn’t even begun to think of that, but that was not surprising, since there’d been so much more to concentrate on lately.
“Okay, we’ll talk soon.”
When Cecelia and Deacon walked off to their own table, Naomi sat down again and watched Toby as he reached for the check folder.
Cecelia was in love and lucky enough to have Deacon love her back. Naomi shot a sidelong glance at Toby as he tucked several bills into the folder for their waiter. He loved her, she knew. But he wasn’t in love with her, and that was the difference between her relationship and her friend’s. Still, Naomi was lucky, too. Toby was here. With her. He’d changed his life around to be there for her.
And they’d had that kiss that had stirred up feelings she’d never suspected she had for him. Was there something more than friendship between them? Was it worth the risk of losing him to find out?
* * *
Los Angeles was big and noisy and crowded, and Naomi loved it. From the packed freeways to the mobs of tourists wandering down Hollywood Boulevard, everything was so different from what she knew that Naomi felt energized. Of course, being with Toby had that effect on her, too.
From flying on Wes Jackson’s private jet to their penthouse suite at the Chateau Marmont in West Hollywood, it was as if she and Toby were wrapped up in some fantasy together. The two-bedroom suite was decorated in pale grays, with hardwood floors, beamed ceilings and glass tables. There was a tiled terrace off the living room and a waist-high concrete balcony railing. The gas fireplace in the main room flickered with dancing flames, because though it was June, it was also Southern California. The damp air coming in off the ocean meant the fire was welcome as well as beautiful.
Naomi spent that first night alone in her bedroom, unable to sleep—not just because she was nervous about her meeting with the producer the following morning. But because Toby was right there with her and still so far away.
He’d been as good as his word, making small, affectionate gestures in front of Rebecca and the hands who worked for him. But when they were alone, he was careful to be...careful. He didn’t seem to be having any difficulties keeping his distance from her. So maybe she was wrong about all this, she told herself. Maybe she was the only one who couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Who couldn’t help wondering what more might be like.
“How’d the meeting go?” Toby sat across from her, a sea breeze ruffling his hair as he watched her, waiting. He’d loosened the dark red tie at his neck and left off his steel-gray suit jacket. The long sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled back to the elbows, and his long legs were stretched out, crossed at the ankle. Toby was probably the only man she knew who could pull off black cowboy boots in Los Angeles.
They were on the terrace of the penthouse suite, and evening was settling in. On the glass-topped table between them was a pitcher of iced tea and two tall glasses provided by room service. It had been a long day. Naomi’d had her meeting with the producer, and Toby had taken care of some business with his patent attorneys. This was really the first chance they’d had to talk since breakfast in the restaurant that morning.
Naomi took a breath and sighed it out. How did she explain what it had been like to hear Tamara Stiles praising Fashion Sense? All her life, she’d been striving to matter. Maybe it had started out as an effort to finally earn her parents’ pride, but at some point her motivation had shifted. It wasn’t only about them anymore, but about Naomi herself. She’d wanted to prove to everyone—including herself—that she was more than a rich man’s daughter. That she had more to offer.
Okay, a cable television show about fashion wasn’t curing cancer or ending nuclear war, but she was helping people, she told herself silently. Giving them ideas on how to improve not only their looks, but their lives. Looking your best meant that you felt your best. Sure, she enjoyed what she did, but knowing that other people did, too, was what made it all so good.
Now, here in Hollywood, she’d reached the very thing she’d been aiming for. There were people here who wanted to produce her, make the show bigger, get a larger audience, really help Naomi be heard. And she wasn’t thrilled. She should be. This was the pot of gold at the end of her own personal rainbow. This was the X marks the spot on her private treasure map.
Looking at Toby, she tried to tell him what she was feeling, but she couldn’t explain it, since she wasn’t sure herself yet. Maybe she just needed time to think. Distance to put it all in perspective.
“Naomi?” His features reflected concern. “It didn’t go well?”
“No,” she answered quickly with a shake of her head. “It went fine. She loves the show—said it has great potential.”
He frowned a little at that. “Potential? What’s that supposed to mean? It’s already a hit in Texas. Hell, it’s why she wanted you to come talk to her.”
“Thanks. That’s what I thought, too.” Naomi tried to settle and couldn’t, so she stood up and walked the length of the private terrace. He was right when he’d once said she needed room to pace when she was thinkin
g. But this time, she felt as though she could walk all the way back to Texas and things still wouldn’t be clear.
When she came back up to the table, she didn’t look at Toby, but instead turned to face the valley view, her hands flat atop the wide concrete rail. “Tamara says for the show to go national we’d naturally have to make changes. To the sets, the kind of shows we do, pretty much everything.”
“If she loves it, why does she want to change it?”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Funny, I asked myself that same question.”
“You should.” He stood up, too, and joined her at the railing.
A sea breeze drifted through Hollywood and brushed past them like a damp caress. Naomi pushed her hair back and lifted her face into that soft wind before looking up at Toby.
He was so steady. So strong. And she was so grateful he’d come with her. She was out of her element here. In Royal, even in Houston, she was fairly well-known. But here she was just one of a crowd of supplicants trying to take that next step up on a Hollywood ladder.
Resting one hip against the balcony rail, she said, “Tamara says the show had something on its own—and that the Maverick video and all the hype that happened after on social media really gave it the kind of push they need to bring up a local show.”
“Okay...”
“But,” she said, shifting her gaze again, out to the valley and the smudge of ocean she could see in the distance, “to go national, the show has to be polished, have less of a small-town feel, so that it will appeal to everyone.”
“Small town?” he asked. “Houston, Dallas—they’ve signed on already. They’re not exactly small town, and it works for them just as it is.”
“It does,” she said, and again, Toby was saying pretty much what she’d said to herself after leaving the meeting. “She says that with a bigger studio and professional crew—not to mention scriptwriters—we might make it big.”
“Might.”
A Texas-Sized Secret Page 10
