“Did you? I hadn’t noticed.”
“I fell asleep with you driving.”
She wasn’t sure what to make of that, except to know that it wasn’t meant as a compliment. “Actually, you fell asleep while I was taking notes about the previous house.”
“Thought you didn’t notice.”
She gave him a look that was hopefully far more congenial than she actually felt, before opening her car door again. “Nearly seventeen acres,” she said, as she climbed out. “According to the map, there’s a private lake in the middle of it. Do you like boating?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” He grabbed a water bottle and seemed to stumble a little as he got out of the car. He swore softly.
She pretended not to see. “I’ve never been on a boat, myself.” She headed for the front door of the house. She’d been through it once already with another client, so didn’t have to hunt for the location of the lockbox.
“You’ve never been on a boat?”
“Nope.” She crouched down and entered her access code. The box popped open and she pulled out the house key. “I don’t swim.” She straightened and smoothed down her skirt. “It doesn’t make me a freak.”
“Did I say it did?”
“No, but you’d be one of the few who didn’t.” Max was always riding her about it. She unlocked the door and led the way inside. “Mind the step down when you come in,” she warned.
“I see it.” He sounded grouchy.
Maybe because he’d just woken up.
Maybe because he was obviously still hungover.
Considering the high hopes she’d had for the morning, things felt on a downhill slide.
She crossed the scuffed wooden floor and opened the wooden shutters so that more natural light filled the living area. “The house was built in 1910, and has undergone a few renovations since. The kitchen has been modernized and two bedrooms were added on in the 1980s.”
His expression was unreadable as he wandered around. But at least he didn’t look entirely disinterested, as he had with the last house they’d toured. While he headed down the hall toward the bedrooms, she went to the kitchen to leave her business card on the counter. She gave him some time to explore on his own, then slowly followed.
She found him in the master bedroom.
“This one of the modernizations you mentioned?” He pointed his thumb upward toward the ceiling mirror positioned directly over the enormous bed.
Billie felt her cheeks heat. How she could have forgotten about that detail was beyond her. “Actually, the mirror dates back to the original house.”
His lips twitched. “Interesting design choice.”
“Better or worse than a purple horse?”
He slid his sunglasses down until his brown eyes met hers. “Now, darlin’, do you really want me to answer that?”
She straightened her shoulders and channeled her mom’s sternest expression. “Perhaps not.”
He laughed softly. Which made mincemeat out of all of her channeling and straightening. Didn’t matter in the least that he was a client and completely off-limits. Not to mention completely out of her league. He ruffled her.
She edged her way out of the bedroom. “Would you like to see the outbuildings?”
He seemed to consider it for half a minute. Then nodded slowly. “Yeah. I would.”
It was more than she’d expected. And her enthusiasm for the morning came back brighter than ever. “All right, then. If you’d like to follow me...”
“Nothing I’d rather do, darlin’.”
Chapter Four
“Come on. You can tell Uncle Grayson.”
Billie rolled her eyes. “You’re not my uncle.”
His smile flashed and warmth filled her.
They’d seen two more houses after the one with the mirrored master bedroom and now they were sitting on the grass in a park not far from where she’d grown up.
All because Grayson had seen the circle of food trucks parked there and had decided he was starving.
Which was why she had her legs tucked to one side of her, with a huge paper napkin draped over her thighs to protect herself from the poutine she was eating. Because, evidently, she didn’t know how to say no to him very convincingly.
“Okay, so I’m not your uncle. But you can still tell me.”
She sighed around another bite of gravy-covered french fry. “This stuff ought to be illegal,” she murmured, licking her finger. More to the point, Grayson ought to be illegal. “Why are you even interested?”
He pointed over her shoulder at the school field behind them. “You just told me you went to high school right there. That you ran track on that very field. You got me curious. So why not tell me what kind of student you were?”
“I told you I ran track. That’s not enough?”
“I can imagine it, too. All long legs and big eyes and hair flying in the breeze.”
She rolled her eyes, determined not to let his flirtatious words get to her. How he’d already gotten her to talk about herself was beyond her.
One minute they’d been discussing the merits of the sixth property they’d visited—namely, the accessibility of the acreage where he’d be keeping his livestock. The next thing she knew, he was buying her poutine—overriding her insistence that she pay for her own lunch—and getting her to talk about what it had been like growing up in Austin.
“I was an average student,” she finally said, feeling more than a little exasperated. Mostly at herself. Because whether he was offering ridiculously flirtatious statements or not, the man definitely got to her. “Average in every single way.”
“I find that hard to believe.” He’d polished off his own double serving of poutine—which had come with a heart attack–sized serving of bacon atop the cheese curds and gravy—and was sucking down his chocolate milkshake. “There’s nothing average about you. Tell me the real truth.”
“That is the truth. I graduated smack-dab in the middle of my class from that high school over there.”
“Then you ended up with a degree in economics from Rice and are now working at the most prestigious real estate firm in the city.”
She flushed. “How do you know I graduated from Rice?”
He tipped down his sunglasses and his warm brown eyes glided over her face. “I looked at your profile on the company’s website.”
Of course. Silly of her. She was glad that the newness of her college degree wasn’t available online. The truth was, she’d gotten her real estate license well before she’d managed to finish her college degree. Mostly because she’d seen the kind of money to be made when she’d worked as a receptionist at Fortunado Real Estate in Houston, helping to pay her way through school.
“From what I saw on the site, you’ve got some hefty credentials.”
“And I’m still the new kid on the block where my boss at Austin Elite is concerned.” Then she wanted to kick herself. What good did it do to tell her client that? Why couldn’t she tell Grayson about the deals she had closed? The kind of deals—Rhonda Dickinson aside—that were the reason DeForest Allen had hired her in the first place. “Speaking of my boss, he’s going to ask how today went in terms of finding you the perfect property.”
“Your boss with his strict code of ethics. What does that mean, exactly?”
If Grayson were anyone else, she wouldn’t have even thought to mention Mr. Allen’s rules that first day. But she had, so answering as if it was no big deal was the only course she could think to take.
She shrugged, supremely casual. “He discourages involvements between agents and clients.”
Grayson’s lips twitched. “What kind of involvements?”
She lifted her chin slightly, determined to keep her wits about her. “Romantic involvements.” She didn’t allow a beat before returning to her original point. “So what should I say when he asks what kind of progress we made?”
He still looked amused. “Tell him it’s a process.”
Which
told her nothing. Except that Grayson wasn’t in love with anything she’d shown him that day. If he were, she had no doubt that he’d have said so.
She shifted restlessly on the grass and stretched her legs out in front of her. She should have taken off her pumps to save the high heels from sinking into the soft ground, but she had been afraid of being too casual.
Chowing down on poutine the way they were was bad enough.
“Break it down for me.” He obviously wasn’t going to let his original matter go, either. “What takes an average—” he air-quoted the word “—high school girl from point A to point B? Why real estate?”
She thought about lying, but she’d never been good at it. Which meant now would be a terrible time to start. “Know what it’s like being the youngest of five kids?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Let’s just say I got tired of hand-me-downs.”
“So money drives you.”
“That makes me sound very calculating.” She nibbled her way through a french fry. “I prefer to think that financial security drives me. I’ve been fortunate. I worked at a very successful firm in Houston. First as a receptionist. Then as an agent. It helped give me a leg up.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought you back to Austin from Houston? Would have thought you’d have more business there with the larger population.”
“Financial security is great,” she admitted honestly, “but ultimately, I came home to Austin because it’s where my family is.”
“Roots turned out to be stronger than you thought?”
She nodded, smiling ruefully. “Both my parents will be retiring soon. They drive me crazy sometimes, but yes. Those roots are strong.”
“What do your siblings do? Are you close?”
“Two are schoolteachers like my parents. One is a stay-at-home mom. One is a social worker. That’s Maggie. She’s the next youngest to me, even though there’s nearly ten years between us. My brother Ray is the oldest—he’s only four years older than Maggie.”
He grinned. “And surprise, along comes Billie?”
“Pretty much.” Along came Billie...unplanned and the odd duck out for wanting a career that didn’t come wrapped in do-gooder ribbon.
She focused on Grayson. “What were you like in high school?”
He grinned. “A hell-raiser. We all were.”
“All?”
“Two brothers.”
“Older or younger?”
“Same. We’re triplets. You going to finish that?”
She realized he was eyeing her poutine. “Ah, no. I’m already stuffed.”
He grabbed it and started in on the gravy-covered concoction. If she hadn’t already seen how much her cousin Max could eat in one sitting, she might have been shocked by the amount of food that Grayson could put away. When it came to rodeo events, steer wrestling was known as the “big man’s sport.” And Grayson was big, but there wasn’t an inch of spare weight anywhere that she could see.
She realized she was staring at his muscular shoulders and quickly focused elsewhere. “You’re one of triplets? That’s not something I hear every day.”
“We kept my mother busy, that’s for sure.”
“What about your dad?”
His expression didn’t change, but she still sensed that she’d stepped into a conversational pile of doggy doo. “Never knew him. Left my mom high and dry before we were born.”
Billie chewed the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry. I should know better than to make assumptions.”
“No reason to be sorry.” He looked beyond her again. Along with the food he was voraciously consuming, his bloodshot eyes had cleared. “We had the only parent around who mattered.”
It felt like a very good time to change the subject. “Did your brothers get into rodeo, as well?”
His smile returned immediately. “Hell no.” His gaze roved over her face as he licked his thumb.
She suddenly felt as gooey inside as the poutine.
“Jayden was interested in getting out of Paseo, but not for every other weekend when there was a rodeo somewhere. He wanted long-term distance.”
She frowned at the name of the tiny town. As an agent, she took personal pride in knowing the names of most every town, nook and cranny in the state. Which, considering the size of Texas, was no small feat. And Paseo truly was a tiny map-dot of a town. “You lived in Paseo?” She’d been certain she’d read somewhere that he was from Dallas. Of course, she’d also read somewhere that his name was Grayson Smith.
“Born and raised. Ever been?”
She shook her head.
“Most people haven’t. Anyway, after a couple years of college to satisfy our mother, Jayden enlisted in the army. Got out a few years ago. Nathan took a similar path. Navy. He’s out now, too. Do-gooders, both of them. Though they’ll deny it still to this day.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “And you?”
He grinned and she felt the impact of it straight down to her core. “I didn’t worry about doing good, darlin’. I was just good at...doing.”
She kept her composure, though it was darned hard. The man was too sexy by far, and he knew it. “And so, so modest about it, too.”
His smile widened. “You blush very easily.”
A comment that made her cheeks turn hotter.
“And you clearly excel at teasing,” she said tartly. “Did you start right out with bulldogging?”
“Either you’ve done your research or you know more about rodeo than I thought. Not everyone knows that’s what we call steer wrestling.”
She also knew steer wrestling was considered the fastest of the rodeo events, and that Grayson had set records—only to turn around and break those, too. She knew that he’d once competed in other events as well, namely saddle bronc riding and tie-down roping. That he’d been All-Around World Champion more than once, until he’d settled into just steer wrestling several years ago, after suffering some injuries during the Nationals in Las Vegas.
But to admit she knew all that?
She managed a casual shrug. “I told you that my family’s big into lots of sports. Not a weekend goes by at my folks’ place when there’s not someone glued to the TV they set up in the backyard. But as it happens, when I was a student at that school—” she jerked her head toward the field behind her “—I did my share of volunteering at Rodeo Austin.” Right alongside Max. “I picked up a few things.”
“No kidding.” He looked intrigued. “Volunteered doing what?”
“Shoveling a lot of horse pucky,” she said wryly. “I tried my hand at barrel racing for a time but it never really stuck. Don’t think it would have even if we could have afforded a horse of my own. I, uh, I think I saw you compete once, even.” Think? If Billie wasn’t careful, she’d be telling him about the calendar that he’d once autographed for her. The calendar that she still had.
And because she was afraid of that very thing, she made a point of looking at her watch. But what she saw genuinely surprised her. “I had no idea it was so late.” When she’d made the appointment with Grayson the day before, they’d allotted only the morning hours. And it was well into the afternoon. “I’m afraid I’ve been greedy with your time.”
“Pretty sure I’m the greedy one, darlin’.” But he reached over and wrapped his long, sinewy fingers around her wrist and looked at her watch himself.
She tucked her tongue between her teeth and tried not to quiver.
“Damn.” He sat up straighter. “It is late.” He resettled his ball cap before gathering up their trash. “Can I borrow your cell phone? I need to make a call.”
“Of course.” She was surprised he didn’t have one of his own. “It’s still in my car. I’ll get it.”
“Thanks.” He took her hand and pulled her so easily to her feet that her nose nearly grazed his chest.
She quickly crossed the grass, feeling her heels sink into the moist dirt with every step.
They were red suede. Not even real suede, and
they’d never recover. But if she could get Grayson to close the deal on a property—any property—she’d consider the loss of the shoes well worth it. She reached the car and retrieved her cell phone, only to realize that Grayson had followed her to the car. He took the phone and quickly dialed.
“It’s me,” he said a moment later. “I’m running late, but you’ll have to wait with the I-told-you-sos. We’ll have to meet at the library. What’s the address?” He’d paced away a few feet from Billie, but he suddenly looked her way. “Got a pen?”
She ducked into the car and retrieved a pen and paper.
He set the latter on the roof of the car. “Okay, repeat that.” He scrawled the information on the sheet. “Yeah, I need clothes. My hat and my electric razor. Yep. Yep. I know. I’ll be in a dark gray gunboat of a car. License plate B-P-REAL.” He clicked off the phone and handed it back to Billie. “I’m not going to live this down anytime soon, I’m afraid.”
She decided she was more curious than offended at his description of her car. “Live what down?”
“Being late.” He held up the paper. His handwriting was bold and slanted, but clear. “Is that far?”
She thought for a moment. “That’s the new library complex across town. Going to take at least twenty minutes if there’s no traffic.” Considering his grimace, she decided not to point out that there was always traffic.
“Can I bribe you into driving me there? Or is that going to land you in involvement territory?”
“Mr. Allen’s not against us being accommodating.”
“S’long as there’s no kissing.”
He was teasing her and she was not going to flush. “There’s no bribe needed.” She reached to take the paper from him, and their fingers brushed when he didn’t immediately release it.
“Seriously, I’ll owe you one.”
She felt all sorts of warm inside again. She tugged a little harder on the paper and he finally let go of it. “I’ll collect when you sign a purchase contract.” That would make her boss happiest of all.
“Deal.” He opened the passenger door and got inside the car. “At least your lead foot will come in handy getting across town,” he said when she had gotten in, too, and fastened her seat belt.
Fortune's Homecoming Page 5
