by Sabrina York
“Sexual desire is one thing. It’s purely physical. And it’s not enough. If you don’t like a guy, it’s just not enough.”
“You don’t like him?” Why she seemed so stunned was a mystery.
“No. I don’t.”
“But he’s funny and charming and kind—”
“And he’s slept with every woman in town.”
“Not every woman.”
Sidney nodded. “You’re right. He probably didn’t seduce Matilda Wilberforce.”
Hanna barked a laugh at the suggestion. As well she should. Matilda Wilberforce was ninety if she was a day and she walked with a cane and enjoyed whacking young men on the ass with it.
“Well, Mama always said, it’s not the people we dislike, it’s the things they do.”
True. And Sidney really disliked the fact that Cody slept with everyone. “It hardly matters. There’s no way Cody and I could have anything real.” Maybe her sigh was a little too maudlin, because Hanna’s gaze locked on her face.
“You’ve loved him forever.”
“Not love.” It couldn’t be that. Love was butterflies and roses. This was worms and thorns. “Besides, I couldn’t be with a guy like that, always wondering who he was fucking today—”
“If you really feel that way, you need to forget about him.”
“I have.”
Hanna’s expression made it clear, she wasn’t buying it. It only made sense to underscore her disinterest.
“He’s not the settling-down type.”
“Well, I have to disagree,” Hanna said. “I think he is. He just needs to find the right woman.”
Yeah, and Sidney was not that woman.
“Someone who can meet him toe to toe and give him what for. Someone bold and brash and fearless.”
Sidney frowned at Hanna. She knew what her sister was trying to do. She knew she was all those things, and more, but she didn’t have the desire—or perhaps the courage—to let herself fall in love with a man who would break her heart on a daily basis. And he would. He’d proved it before.
Hanna sighed. “All I’m saying is, you deserve someone who will love you and only you. Someone who will make you happy.”
“Thank you,” Sidney said. “And so do you.”
Hanna squeezed her hand, and they sat there for a moment longer before Sidney stood and took her leave.
It was a damn shame neither of them seemed able to lasso a decent man. But by God, she was going to try.
There had to be a decent man in Dallas. Somewhere.
***
Dad promised to go to the Stud Ranch and collect Sidney’s things for her, which was a mercy, because she couldn’t bear to see Cody again.
Even though she’d been able to tell him off, to boot him from her life, it was a lot tougher than she imagined to actually walk away.
It was a good thing to remember, should she ever run into him again, how addictive he was. She’d spent years telling herself she was absolutely over him, and all it took was a simple kiss and she tumbled into his web again.
And all that falderal he’d fed her about how they had something special—no doubt that was a line he fed all of his women.
It was better this way. It was.
But for some reason, she dreamed of him every night and woke up remembering the taste of his kiss, the heat of his body, and the curve of his smile.
The whole weekend had been a disaster . . . except for one thing. To her delight, a few weeks after the debacle, Hanna called to tell her she’d broken off that hideous engagement with Zack and was now dating Logan. Even better, Logan’s company had bought the recipe to Dad’s chili to use in their restaurants, which had provided enough money to bail her father out with the bank . . . and then some.
That was all wonderful, but the thing Sidney loved the most was that Hanna was now working as an artist for Logan’s company, which brought her sister to Dallas. It was really nice to see her more often, though they both worried about their father, taking care of their ailing mother in that big ranch house all alone.
Sidney even played around with the idea of moving back.
And she would have, if Cody hadn’t been there. No doubt she could get a job at Bubba’s or the FoodWay or something. It couldn’t pay much less than her current stint as a bikini barista. Also, how long could a woman work as a bikini barista anyway? She wasn’t getting any younger.
All in all, the future looked pretty dismal.
She refused to believe it was because Cody wouldn’t be a part of it.
It didn’t help matters when Hanna and Logan got engaged several months later.
Not that Sidney wasn’t delighted for Hanna. She was. Her sister deserved to be happy. And Logan made her happy. It was so obvious, watching them together. They were made for each other.
When Hanna invited her to dinner to meet Logan’s family, she agreed at once, and not just because it was an opportunity to escape the boredom of her life, but because she really wanted to meet them. They would be family soon.
She never expected they were gazillionaires. Or close enough.
As Sidney drove up the long driveway at the address Hanna had given her, she had to wonder if she was at the wrong house. It was an enormous estate with manicured landscaping. The house was practically a mansion, but somehow had a homey, welcoming vibe.
The vibe continued when the door was opened my Mr. Wilder himself, Logan’s stepfather. He pulled Sidney into a warm hug. “Well hello there,” he boomed. “You must be Sidney.”
“Yes sir, I am,” she said, handing over the bottle of cheapo wine she’d brought. She felt silly about it now. They probably had a wine cellar or some shit, but she’d been raised to bring a hostess gift when she was invited somewhere, and that was all she could afford.
But Mr. Wilder, or Sam, as he insisted she call him, was gracious about it and accepted the craptastic bargain bottle with a beaming smile, as though she’d just gifted him with a vintage bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé. “Thank you. Thank you. Come on in, won’t you?”
He led her through a beautiful foyer covered with slate rock—with a fountain for Christ’s sake—past a gorgeous curved staircase with polished wood and wrought iron bars and into a huge rumpus room at the back of the house.
She was hit by a cacophony of laughter and jibes as she stepped into the room. If she’d thought the wealthy Wilders were snobs, she was wrong. At the moment, one of the brothers was making fart sounds on his elbow, which in turn made the younger sister break out in peals of giggles.
Hanna had warned her about the Wilders. Including Logan, there were five children. Rafe was the oldest—Sidney easily picked him out of the crowd because he was glowering at the hubbub with a reluctant smile on his face—and Ben and Brandon were the twin brothers. Those three were Sam Wilder’s sons. Louisa, who was only eight, was a product of Sam’s marriage to Diane, Logan’s mother.
Though they were a blended family, one would never know. They seemed very much a unit. It was clear they adored one another.
Hanna saw her and sprang to her feet. “Sidney!” she called.
And that easily, all the laughter stopped. Every head came around and every gaze locked on her.
She felt like a canapé at a velociraptor party.
Especially when they all stood and swarmed her.
Oh sure, it was for hugs, but there was a second there where she felt the urge to run.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Rafe asked with a smile.
“Just water, please.” She was driving and, aside from that, they might actually serve her the wine she’d brought.
Rafe nodded and bounded off to the bar, and one of the twins sidled up to her. He took her arm and led her to the big sofa curling around the room. On the far wall there was an enormous TV, but they had a music channel on, playing softly. T
he room also sported a stone fireplace and a pool table.
Oh, also, this rumpus room was the size of her entire apartment.
Must be nice.
“So, you’re Hanna’s sister,” the man at her side said. She glanced at his twin, who had taken the seat on her other side.
“Yes. And . . . which one are you?”
They both laughed, in tandem. She certainly hoped they weren’t that kind of twins, who said everything at the same time and dressed alike and were creepy and shit.
“I’m Ben,” the guy on her right said. He squeezed her hand. “I’m the handsome one.”
“I’m Brandon,” the other said with a wink. “Apparently, I’m the smart one.”
They were both gorgeous as hell.
“And I am Rafe,” Rafe said, handing her a tall glass of water. “I’m the chivalrous one.”
She had to laugh. “Thank you for the water, kind sir.”
He bowed. “My lady.”
“I have to say,” she said with a flirty look, “you’re not nearly as surly as Hanna described.”
“Sidney!” Hanna cried. “I did not describe him as surly!” She turned to Rafe. “Honestly, I didn’t.”
Rafe grinned. “Which word did you use then?”
“Intimidating,” Hanna said. “Definitely intimidating.”
Logan chuckled. “Yeah. That’s about right. Although you can be surly.”
“Of course I can be surly. I’m the boss, aren’t I? I’m supposed to be surly.”
“Wait.” Sam frowned at his son. “I thought I was the boss.”
Rafe patted him on the shoulder. “That’s right, Pop. You just hold on to that thought.”
Ben leaned closer and said, “Dad started the company, but it got to be so big, he needed to farm things out to his sons. Almost killed him to delegate, but there you have it. Rafe is the CEO, Logan handles development, Brandon manages merchandizing, and I’m the promo guy.”
God, he was adorable. He had sandy brown hair and big brown eyes and a broad, charming smile. He didn’t make her pulse thud or make her restless, but she liked him. She liked him at once.
“It must be nice working with family. Building something together.”
“Yeah,” Brandon said. “When they’re not being total assholes.”
Ben nodded sagely. “We try to be only partial assholes.”
“It does help,” Logan quipped.
Hanna leaned forward. “I told you they were a hoot. Don’t you just love them?”
Sidney smiled at her sister, allowing all of her joy to shine through. This family was wonderful, perfect for Hanna, and she was delighted they would be her family too. Of course, they didn’t need to know how delighted she was just yet. Her grin became wicked. “I don’t know, Hanna,” she said. “The jury is still out on this one.”
“What?” Ben squawked.
She smiled at him and patted his knee. “Let’s just see how good you are at kissing up first.”
Sam Wilder’s laugh echoed off the walls. “Oh, Sidney,” he hooted. “You’re going to fit in here just fine.”
And she did.
***
To her surprise, Ben called the next day.
To her even greater surprise, he called to ask her out.
On a date.
An actual date.
She was thrilled to be asked on a date by a handsome man, one she really, really liked. But—though it was tough to admit it—the fevered excitement she’d been looking for was missing. Not that Ben wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous. And charming. And successful. Not that she wouldn’t love to fall in love with him . . .
But it just wasn’t there.
Had Cody ruined her for every man? Because surely, if there ever was a perfect man who was not named Cody Silver, it would be Ben Wilder. It should be.
Still, she agreed to go out with him. For one thing, she really liked him. And for another, maybe this thing with Cody would wear off if she rubbed up against another guy for a while. Maybe if she kissed Ben she would magically forget all about Cody’s sparkling blue eyes and annoying dimples. Maybe.
To her delight, he didn’t take her to a fancy restaurant. He took her to his favorite bar and grill—one the family didn’t own—and they sat at a table in the corner with honky-tonk playing around them, twined with the cracks from the pool table in the next room. It was just the kind of place she liked. Peanut shells on the floor and all.
“What do you think?” he said, slipping the menu toward her. He was so attractive in his chambray shirt, jeans and Stetson. The ultimate cowboy hero. She’d learned the other night that, in addition to running the family restaurant business, all the “boys,” as Diane called them, had their own spreads.
Lots of guys in Dallas posed as cowboys. Few actually were.
Ben Wilder was the real thing. It was a shame she couldn’t just tumble into his arms.
“What do I think?” She had to ask him to clarify, because there were lots of thoughts whipping around in her mind.
“About dinner.”
“Ah.” She gave the menu a cursory glance. Everything looked wonderful. “Why don’t you choose?”
His eyes widened. “Really? I didn’t take you for that sort.”
“What sort?”
“You know, the girly girl who lets the guy order for her.”
She grinned at him. “Good. Because I am not that girl. I’m just starving, and obviously you know what’s good here.”
“I take it you’re also not the girly girl who orders a salad?”
“Not unless it has a hunk of meat on top of it.”
“Excellent.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. Could he be cuter?
When the waiter came around, he ordered one plate of ribs and one tri-tip and chicken combo. “That way we can share, so you can try everything,” he said.
“I’ve always thought that was the best thing about marriage. Sharing meals.”
He nodded. “My parents eat off each other’s plates all the time.”
“It works best with dessert,” she told him solemnly.
“Hmm. We’ll have to try that out tonight.”
“Oh, let’s.”
It didn’t occur to her until later that she’d actually brought up marriage on the first date, which was an absolute no-no. But he hadn’t freaked out the way most men might. He just took the conversational ball and rolled with it.
There was such . . . comfort with him. It made her wonder if all that passion she had with Cody was overrated. When they were together, they mostly fought with each other . . . if they weren’t screwing like bunnies.
She didn’t want a relationship filled with angst. She wanted something like this. Something sweet. Comfortable. And—dare she say it?—safe.
But then she looked at Ben, at his intent, solemn stare, and something in her chest pinged. Because even if she wanted something like that, even if she was willing to forego the blinding passion for emotional safety . . . would that be fair to him?
She could tell he was a passionate soul, and she could tell he was attracted to her. And while she found him appealing and funny and adorable . . . the sizzle just wasn’t there.
“So tell me about yourself,” he asked after the waiter took their order.
She lifted a shoulder. “Not much to tell. I lived in Snake Gully ’til I graduated, then I moved to Dallas.”
“And what do you do?”
Heat crept up her cheeks. Not that she was embarrassed, but she kind of was. “You’ve seen those bikini barista stands?”
He chuckled. “I’ve gone through one or two.”
“Yeah, well, that’s me.”
“Really?” He leaned back and took a sip of his drink. “Doesn’t it get cold?”
“Sometimes.”
“What drew you to bikini . . . barista-ing?”
“Just fell into it, I guess. When I moved to Dallas I needed a job.”
“Why did you leave Snake Gully? It seems like a nice town.”
She laughed. “Have you been there?”
“I’ve heard stories from Logan and Diane.”
“I suppose it is pretty nice. I mean, we have our characters—”
“Yeah, I know all about Zack.”
Sidney wrinkled her nose. “He’s the worst. I’m so happy Hanna’s not marrying him. I was so afraid our plan wouldn’t work.”
Ben narrowed his eyes and leaned in. “What plan?”
Oh. Crap. “Ah . . .” she stalled.
He nudged her with his foot under the table. “You have to spill it now.”
She sighed. “Okay. The idea was to hold the bachelorette party at the Stud Ranch and have Cody invite one of his friends to seduce Hanna.”
Ben’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Cody? Cody Silver?”
The sound of his name made a shiver dance down her spine. She hadn’t realized the two men knew each other. “None other.”
For some reason, Ben hooted a laugh. “So that’s what that was all about,” he murmured.
“What?”
“At one of our poker games, I knew something weird was going on, that Cody had some bizarre plot afoot. The bottom line is that Logan lost the game and, as a result, had to work at the ranch one weekend.”
Sidney nodded. “That was our plan. But I didn’t care who he picked. Just someone other than Zack.”
“Well, I’m glad it was Logan.” Ben set his hand over hers. “It could have been me, and then you and I would never have had this chance to get to know each other.”
She fluttered her lashes. “Technically, if you and my sister married, we’d probably still meet.”
His expression darkened. His voice went all growly. “You know what I mean.” And he leaned closer. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he was going to kiss her.
And he did.
It was soft, sweet, and warm. He tasted wonderful. She tried to force herself to feel something more . . . but she couldn’t.
After a bit, he eased back and studied her. She couldn’t meet his eye.
