Texas Magic

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  “I didn’t get a chance to tell you this earlier, but nice dress.” Drew’s eyes, the same shade of dark brown as Maya’s imported chocolates, sparkled with mischief. This was another side to the sexy man who tended to make her mouth go dry and her mind go blank when he walked into the room...especially now that he was sitting next to her. Man, he looked good in that tux.

  Caroline forced herself to look out at the dance floor so she wouldn’t stare at Drew. “Yeah, my sister promised us we’d get multiple uses out of it. What do you think? Is it suitable for a night on the town?”

  She grabbed a fistful of pumpkin-colored taffeta and tulle underskirt and gave it a shake. It rustled like dry leaves in a trash bag.

  As Drew took a long, slow draw of beer, his gaze meandered unselfconsciously from her handful of skirt, up the bodice of her dress, lingering a beat on her décolletage. She let go of the skirt and crossed her arms so that her forearm covered her cleavage and her hand rested at the base of her throat. His gaze resumed its journey, finally finding her eyes.

  “Yeah, it’s kind of noisy.” Although he was nodding as if he approved. “But you wear it well, Caroline. Would be a shame to let it go to waste in the back of your closet. I say wear it and own it.”

  “Own the fact that I look like someone’s Halloween pumpkin? I don’t think so, Drew.”

  It wasn’t just the way he held her gaze, it was the way his dark, curly hair fell across his forehead and the teasing tilt of his sideways grin that also did her in. Suddenly she wasn’t quite so eager to retreat to that marble Jacuzzi tub...alone.

  What if she asked him to join her?

  Her cheeks burned at the thought.

  He was her new brother-in-law’s best friend. Even though she had already dismissed the one-night-of-bliss fantasy, now that he was sitting here—so mesmerizingly close—she shouldn’t be thinking of him in the getting-naked-in-a-Jacuzzi way, either. Because if she found herself naked in a Jacuzzi with him, then that would inevitably lead to the one-night stand, which she had already dismissed. She wasn’t going to kid herself. With her workload at the firm and the extra hours she was putting in helping out her friend A. J. Sherwood-Antonelli baking desserts for Celebrations, Inc., a catering company, Caroline barely had time to sleep.

  So, no, there was no time for a man in her life...well, beyond tonight, anyway. So maybe that was all the more reason she should put away her prude and just go for it.

  She had to look away and bite the insides of her cheeks to rid herself of the thoughts that were ringing in her head right now. Not to mention, at this point she was surely the same shade of red as the cranberries in the table centerpieces.

  What was wrong with her? Too much champagne? Sugar overload?

  “Sugar,” he said.

  Great. And now he was reading her mind.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I was thinking you looked more like a sweet sugar pumpkin in that dress rather than a carving pumpkin.” He grinned at her, relaxed and casual in his chair, obviously aware of how flustered he was making her. “There is a difference, you know? One of the reporters at the Journal just wrote an article about a pumpkin farm over in Celina. She said you should never use a big carving pumpkin for pie. It will be bitter. You have to use the small, firm sugar pumpkins. They’re much sweeter.”

  Again, his eyes meandered the length of her dress.

  Small, firm sugar pumpkins? Was he speaking metaphorically?

  She shivered, but this time she did not cross her arms to hide herself. Instead, she blinked at him. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She reached out and swatted his arm. “If that’s the best you can do, that’s pathetic.”

  See, the other dangerous thing she had learned about Drew Montgomery this weekend was that he had a way of pulling her out of that awkward, tongue-tied mire she initially found herself in when she was with him, and then it was a slippery slope into the sea of longing. Tonight, it seemed, there was no life preserver to save her. No lifeboat in which she could stash the bald truth: this man made her think and feel things she had no business thinking and feeling, because the places they led were dangerous.

  He motioned to a woman carrying a tray of champagne. She wasted no time appearing at his side. Drew replaced Caroline’s empty flute with a full one.

  “Pathetic, huh?” he asked.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Damn, I guess that means I’ll have to make it up to you. Or at least prove to you that I’m not pathetic. At least not when it counts.”

  Good Lord, his smile was enough to push her over the edge of that slippery slope.

  “Would you wear your sugar pumpkin dress out on the town if I wore this monkey suit? Tie and all—we match. See, pumpkin tie. Pumpkin dress.” He motioned back and forth.

  She blinked, unsure of what to say. If she let herself go there, she might believe he was asking her out on a date.

  “But that would mean you’d have to rent the monkey suit again, and I’d have to postpone burning this hideous dress.” She shook her head, feeling pretty clever for keeping up her end of the push-and-pull banter. “So, I don’t think it will work.”

  He frowned and, oh, how she wanted to believe he really was disappointed by her pretend rebuff. This was simply casual flirting, but somehow it didn’t feel like the brand of casual they’d established this weekend.

  “Well, then, if you’re turning me down for a date,” he said, “the least you can do is make it up to me some other way.”

  Date? So he was asking her out on a real date? She in her hideous pumpkin-colored bridesmaid dress and he in his matching bow tie. That was a vision. Something in the mischievous look on his face hinted that he never took life seriously. She wasn’t quite sure if he was serious about this pumpkin-themed date.

  Still, play along...

  “What exactly did you have in mind?” she asked.

  “Right at this moment?” He smiled, grabbed another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and set it in front of her.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m onto your plans for the moment. You’re trying to get me drunk. So, does that mean you plan on taking advantage of me?”

  “Is that an option?” he asked. “Because if it’s not, you’re perfectly welcome to take advantage of me.”

  The dance beat slowed to something soulful and their gazes locked. The air between them shifted.

  “You have to admit, Caroline, there’s some serious chemistry between you and me. And I don’t think you’re going to be in any shape to catch the bride’s bouquet until we do a couple of chemistry experiments and contain all this...you know—” he motioned back and forth between the two of them again “—this energy. Otherwise, it might throw you off your flower-catching game.”

  See? He’d done it again. He’d started off talking about the chemistry between them—a chemistry that was so real it was almost palpable. No one with eyes could deny that. But then he switched tracks to something light and funny, leaving the serious edge hanging between them. Still, Caroline was no dummy; she knew that when he defaulted to light and funny it was because what was happening between them was simply casual flirting.

  So keep it casual, Caroline. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.

  “Whoa there, Romeo, what makes you think I want to catch the bridal bouquet? And don’t you dare say all women want to catch the flowers.”

  “You don’t like flowers?”

  “I love flowers.”

  He leaned in a little closer, resting his arm along the back of her chair. He was so close, she could feel the heat of his body and smell the intoxicating scent of him. It made her want to breathe in a little deeper. Suddenly, she forgot her entire case against catching the bride’s flowers. But then again she wasn’t really going to make a case. She was keeping this light and casual.

  “Then why wouldn’t you want to catch them?” He whispered the words in her
ear. His breath was hot on her cheek. It was all she could do to keep from dragging him straight up to that big marble Jacuzzi and having her way with him.

  Instead, she reached out and ran her finger along the edge of his bow tie. Good lord, the man looked devastating in a tux, despite the dreadful pumpkin tie. Actually, it didn’t look bad with his dark eyes and hair...and he was so close. All she would have to do was lean in a fraction of an inch and her lips would be touching his. The realization made her bite down on her lower lip.

  “My philosophy,” he said, “is you have to go after what you want in life. If not, what’s the point of living?”

  His words hit home and were a little sobering. Why not go for something she wanted? Why not just this once do something completely out of character and take something just for herself? Even if it was impermanent...even if she could only have Drew for one night...

  She had never slept with a guy before they were solidly in a committed relationship. The thought of getting physical with Drew left her breathless—or maybe it was the way Drew was looking at her. Whatever it was, something was different tonight. Was it the wedding? The champagne? Or maybe it was just the physical reaction of a woman wanting a man who seemed to want her back. Why make it any more complicated than it was?

  His words echoed in her head, in her heart. You have to go after what you want in life. If not, what’s the point of living?

  She really had not been living, had she?

  “There’s definitely chemistry between us, Drew. But rather than trying to figure it all out, like a science experiment, don’t you just want to enjoy the magic? You know, get lost in the fantasy? Science steals the magic because it explains too much. I happen to like fantasy even more than I like flowers.”

  “Science never was my thing,” he said. “Maybe we should...dance, instead.”

  Chapter Two

  Sometimes a girl just had to say what the hell and go for broke with the gorgeous guy who’d been flirting with her since the moment they’d first laid eyes on each other.

  Even if it wasn’t going to last longer than the moment...or the night.

  Liquid courage wasn’t fully to blame for Caroline turning a moment with Drew into a night. Nope, blame wasn’t even a factor in this equation.

  Although she would like to know what had come over her last night. She raised her chin as she peered at herself in the bathroom mirror, wiping away the remnants of stubborn makeup smudges that had not washed away in the shower.

  They’d danced until the moment Claudia had tossed her bouquet. Claudia had looked Caroline in the eye, turned around and tossed the flowers right to her. There had been no running or lunging or fighting. With one clean toss, the bouquet had tumbled through the air in a surreal sort of slow motion, before it landed right in Caroline’s hands.

  Then, her sister and Kyle had gotten into the limo and had driven off into the night.

  Caroline and Drew had wasted no time finding their way up to Caroline’s hotel suite.

  Yes, she had been perfectly in control of her choices. Even if nearly every move she had made since abandoning her second trip to the cake table had been out of character.

  It was too late to second-guess herself. It was six o’clock in the morning and Drew had been sound asleep when she had tiptoed off to the shower. She took her time, thinking that if he awoke and wanted an easy out, he could dress and slip out while she was occupied in the other room.

  No awkward morning-after dances...especially since their “dance” last night had been so perfect. She wanted the end of their tryst—God, was that what this was, a tryst? When was the last time she had used that word? Probably never. That’s why she wanted the end of whatever this was to be as easy and unforced as the beginning: They’d danced during the reception after the limo had taken Claudia and Kyle away, Caroline and Drew had ended up back in her suite with a bottle of champagne, sharing the big marble Jacuzzi. Then they’d heated up the sheets of the big bed she initially thought would swallow her up alone.

  But it had not. It had proven to be quite a lovely playground, where she and Drew Montgomery had played games she never dreamed she would take part in with someone like him.

  He of all people. Her brother-in-law’s best friend. Good Lord, if Claudia ever found out, her holier-than-thou sister would...well, she definitely wouldn’t approve. As if Caroline’s wedding “nightcap” might somehow sully Claudia’s fairy-tale-perfect nuptials.

  Caroline inhaled sharply, refusing to feel guilty over taking a little slice of pleasure for herself for a change. The scent of the lavender bath salts they’d used in the tub last night still perfumed the air.

  Never in her life had Caroline felt so drawn to someone she knew so little about. The undeniable vibe she was getting from Drew this weekend was that he was the consummate bad boy. With his charm, she imagined he was a virtuoso at wooing women. The thought sent a particular thrill coursing through her.

  Maybe she was overromanticizing the situation, but if she had learned one thing about Drew Montgomery this weekend it was that he had an unshakeable conviction to live life to its fullest.

  If not, what’s the point of living?

  His words haunted her. Their influence had been the tipping point, and the rest was history. Granted, a very short chapter in Caroline’s romantic history. But still, it was something.

  Maybe he was onto something with his “authentic living” philosophy. Maybe she should borrow a page from that philosophy and tell her father that the stuffy offices of Coopersmith & Bales weren’t where she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

  What would he say if she told him she wanted to put aside her Harvard Business School education and bake?

  She could hear her father’s humorless laugh in the recesses of her mind. It was a stupid idea. It wouldn’t be the first time she had broached the subject. But Charles Coopersmith always seemed to go deaf when she talked about a career change.

  Right now everything was in order in the Coopersmith universe: Claudia was married to a man their father had all but hand-picked, and Caroline was in line to step into her father’s role of senior partner when he retired.

  A knot formed in her stomach at the mere thought. There was nothing she could do about it right now. That’s why having a one-night stand with the best man at her sainted sister’s wedding—a man of whom her father would never approve—was as close as she would come to defying him.

  She tried to shrug off the inner voice calling her a coward. But it didn’t really matter, did it? She knew in her gut that when she left the sanctuary of the bathroom, she would find the bed empty. Drew would’ve taken advantage of her absence to take his leave, and she would leave the fantasy of their one night behind and step back into real life.

  So buck up. One night with Drew was exactly what you signed up for. This is how you wanted it to end.

  She gave her reflection one last once-over. The foggy bathroom mirror reflected back a soft-focus image of a woman who looked a bit too hopeful to return to an empty bed. She ran her fingers through her damp hair, pushing the errant chestnut strands away from her face. Tightening the sash of the bathrobe, she opened the collar just a little bit so that the right amount of cleavage showed.

  She turned out the light before she opened the door, standing in the pitch-dark for a moment to gather herself. She heard a distant door slam; someone moving around in the room upstairs; the distant resonance of a toilet flushing, a shower starting. The symphony of hotel sounds set over the reverb of her own breathing.

  All right, come on. You can’t stay in here forever. Slowly, she turned the doorknob and stepped into the dimly lit bedchamber.

  The first thing to come into focus was her bridesmaid dress, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Next, a trail of various articles of underclothing and men’s clothing—

  Her gaze zagged to the bed, where a mound in the bed verified that Drew was still there. She froze, uncertain of what to do. Should she get back in bed or g
et dressed?

  So much for avoiding the awkward morning-after dance.

  When Caroline’s gaze adjusted to the low light, the bridal bouquet, which lay on the nightstand, came into focus. Perched precariously on the edge of the table, its bloodred roses were now drooping and showing their age. However, the blunt, thorn-free stems, chopped to uniform perfection and bound tightly in virginal, white satin ribbon, were still perfectly in place.

  None of those roses could possibly break free from the pack. Now, if that wasn’t a metaphor for the Coopersmith family way...

  In Caroline’s mind, a vision flashed of herself growing old and used up but still toeing the line at Coopersmith & Bales. All the blood drained from her head.

  Drew stirred. His hand went up to his face, and he scrubbed his eyes before he propped himself up on his elbow.

  “Good morning.” His voice was a hoarse rasp. He eyed her up and down, and the last traces of bravado she had been full of last night vanished, like someone deadheading roses.

  “Good morning.” Her words slipped out on a whisper.

  Grasping the lapels of her robe, she held them together, as if she were all modesty and virtue.

  Oh, God, help me. It was too late for that now—too late for help or for modesty and virtue.

  Drew patted the empty side of the bed next to him. “Come here.”

  It took a couple of beats to unstick her bare feet from the floor, but finally she forced her legs to move. She perched primly on the edge of the bed next to him, her hands in her lap. Her gaze again landed on the bridal bouquet, but she redirected it to Drew.

  He looked so darn sexy lying there on his side, propped up on his elbow, the sheet pulled up to his waist, barely covering his hipbones. His biceps bulged and his broad shoulders looked a mile wide. She swallowed around the angst that was blocking her airway.

  “Do you want some coffee?” she offered, finally finding her voice, then cringing at the inane question.