Until he ended up in a pickup truck with Sophie Daniels.
Then I turn into a babbling idiot.
One who insists on calling the movie star I just met by her full name, even in my mind.
Somehow, calling her Sophie seemed too familiar.
Zeke decided to try “Ms. Daniels,” instead.
Luckily, Ms. Daniels didn’t seem to mind his idiocy—though she had insisted on “Sophie.” She’d laughed, but not in a cruel way, and he found himself as enchanted by her voice in person as he’d been in the movie theater.
And now, she was wandering around his new home running her fingers lightly over everything as she examined it. For the first time, he tried to see Necessity through the eyes of people who hadn’t lived here their whole lives. One day ago, he’d loved the tiny cabin, with its history—it had been on the land for over a hundred years. Now as he looked around, all he could see was how worn the place was. His work boots sitting on the porch just outside the door where his mother had always insisted he leave them seemed tacky instead of practical. When he opened the screen door for Sophie Daniels and ushered her in, the first thing he saw was his dirty coffee cup sitting on the table from this morning, still full from when Colton had shown up to talk him into going to the film set. Even the table it rested on was used and battered, furniture that had been inside this house for decades, probably.
But Ms. Daniels—Sophie—simply said, “Wow,” and made a circuit of the room, as if she were riding fences to see what needed fixing and what could be left alone.
Zeke shook his head. What an odd image for him to have of her—she wouldn’t be assessing his home for repairs, for crying out loud.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, finally remembering the rules of politeness that his mother and grandmother had worked so hard to drill into him. “I have coffee or iced tea. It’s sweet. The tea, I mean.”
She glanced up from where she was running her hand back and forth across his grandmother’s quilt Zeke kept tossed over the back of the couch—mostly because it covered up the parts of the sofa that were getting a little threadbare. “Yes, please,” she said. “I don’t often have anything with real sugar in it. But I’ve heard all my life about Southerners and their ‘sweet tea’.”
Zeke managed to contain his snort as he moved toward the tiny kitchen. As he put ice in glasses and poured the tea over it, he called out into the other room, “Where are you from originally?”
“I grew up in the Pacific Northwest—Oregon, mostly, but Washington State, too.”
Zeke strolled back out of the kitchen and handed her one of the glasses with a grin. “Well, if you’re going to spend much time in Texas, one thing you need to know is that we don’t exactly consider ourselves Southerners.”
Her startled blink reminded him of one of the calves he’d had to bring in recently to have its leg checked. It had given him that same surprised look when he’d cut it off from the rest of the herd and forced it into a trailer.
I probably shouldn’t mention that resemblance out loud. She probably wouldn’t want to be compared to a baby cow.
This bizarre encounter was making his head spin—making him think in ways he usually wouldn’t.
Well, okay—to be entirely honest, he was thinking exactly the same way he always did. He usually was better at remembering not to say it out loud, however. He’d had to stop himself at least three times since he met Sophie Daniels in person.
“So what do you consider yourselves?” Sophie asked.
It took him a second to drag his mind back to the conversation they were having. Oh, right. Texans as Southerners. “We like to think of ourselves as a breed apart. If you have to call us anything other than Texan, Southwesterner will do.”
She nodded, her dark brown eyes searching his face for something. If he had known what it was she was looking for, he would’ve done his very best to give it to her right then and there—he might as well have been watching her on a movie screen, the way she filled up everything he could see at the moment.
He blinked, trying to shake himself out of what felt like it might be some sort of impending trance.
“Is there anyone you need to call?” he asked. “My cell phone’s still in the truck, but it doesn’t always get reception out here, anyway.” He gestured to an end table with an old-fashioned landline on it. “Maybe you can call someone and find out what the plan is for the rest of the day?”
At that, Sophie Daniels began worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth—almost as if she were nervous.
And there he was, using her full name every time he thought of her.
Her mouth firmed up as if she were coming to some kind of decision. Reaching her hand out as if to touch him, but never quite making contact, she ushered him toward the living room.
“Do you mind if we talk for a minute?”
“That would be fine,” he said bemusedly.
She led him around to the front of the sofa, where she took a seat. He followed her lead, then sat there, waiting for her to speak. “Was there something you wanted to say to me?” he finally asked when he could no longer stand her silence.
“Yes, actually.” She chewed on her lip a bit longer. “You’ve already been so kind to me, and so helpful. I hate to ask for more.”
“But?”
“But I have another favor to ask.”
Chapter Six
“You did what?” Sophie’s publicist, Eileen, practically barked at her over the phone line.
“I asked him to join me at that benefit ball in Dallas tonight.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can,” Sophie said, working to sound reasonable. “You’re the one who said I needed something to take the attention of my breakup with Niall. This will be perfect.”
“Sophie. Honey. Sweetheart. Darling. You cannot take some hick off a farm and toss him into the spotlight. He will end up doing something horrendous, and it will all be worse than it was before. Trust me.”
“It’s not like that.” She glanced around to make sure Zeke was still out on the front porch, talking to someone else on his cell phone. “He is not a hick. Or any other terrible thing you want to call him.”
Eileen’s hoarse laughter grated in Sophie’s ear. “Have you seen the pictures yet? They are all over the Internet, and he looks like the terrified newbie he is.”
Dammit. Sophie had half expected the pictures to go out immediately, but she had hoped for a little more time to prep Zeke for what to expect. Well, they had the rest of the afternoon—assuming she didn’t have to go back in and try to film after that on-set debacle this morning.
“I’m taking him with me tonight, and that’s final.”
Eileen sighed. “Fine. It’s your funeral. You remember how dating someone outside the industry turned out for Julia Ro—”
“I’m not her,” and Sophie interrupted. “And it’s not even a real date. I explained that. He’s clear on it.”
“Are you clear about it?”
“Yes.” Her response was brusque—she didn’t want to examine her answer to that question too closely. “I’ll check in with you tonight. Send me anything important in the meantime.”
“You’re the boss,” Eileen said as she hung up.
But they both knew she didn’t mean it.
“SO WE’RE DEFINITELY not filming again today?” she asked Milo’s assistant, Penny.
“Nope. We have to move up our timeline on some of the paperwork for the new filming site, but we should be able to do the rest of the downtown scenes tomorrow,” Penny replied. “You’re free until tomorrow morning.”
Perfect.
As she waited for Zeke to finish his conversation outside, Sophie finally took a sip of the sweet tea that Zeke had brought her. Making a face, she stared down into it. How could anyone drink anything with that much sugar in it? It was terrible.
Setting the glass on the end table, she gazed around the small living room, continuing the examin
ation she’d begun earlier—though this time without quite so much touching. She hadn’t been able to verbalize it earlier, but something about this Texas cabin made her think of her grandmother’s home in Oregon.
On the surface, the two homes had very little in common. Different materials, different types of wood had been used in their construction and their flooring. The decorations were very different. Her grandmother had been prone to doilies and delicate antiques. Although there were clearly some antiques in here, as well, they were heavy, built to withstand a tougher life and the rougher touch of a cowboy.
Something about that thought made her shiver as she glanced back out the door, taking in everything she could about Zeke. She already knew that he was much stronger than even his tall, broad-shouldered physique would suggest. He had picked her up and carried her at a full clip out of that restaurant without getting even the slightest bit winded. Sophie knew some so-called action stars who would’ve been able to manage it.
“No,” she suddenly heard him say. “It’s not a date. I’m only going so I can help her out of a ... situation.”
She forced her attention back onto the house, worried that he might find her staring at him.
No, the house reminded her of her grandmother’s home because of how it felt.
Peaceful.
Like the sort of place you might come home to when it was time to rest.
Even the view out the large glass window, so very different from the forests of the northwest she’d grown up with, reminded her somehow of her childhood. Standing, she moved across the room and rested the tips of her fingernails lightly against the glass. She stared out across the view. It seemed to go on forever—open fields of grass just beginning to turn golden in the early September afternoon. Giant, round bales of hay dotted those fields.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Zeke said from behind her, startling Sophie so that she jumped and squeaked.
Zeke reached out to steady her, his hand brushing against her arm a tiny bit. A flash of electricity shot up through her shoulder and into the back of her neck sending chills all over her body. Sophie had to fight to keep from showing her reaction.
“It’s stunning,” she admitted, talking almost as much about her reaction to him as the view, though she would never tell him as much.
“That view is why I chose this house.” He glanced around the small living room. “Tor offered me one of the newer houses. Or I could’ve lived in the main bunkhouse—there won’t be anyone living in it over the winter, once he lets the seasonal help go. I wouldn’t have minded staying up there with the rest of the guys, but this view? It called to me.”
Sophie fixated on one word in that sentence. “Tor? Tor Edwards? The billionaire who tried to block us from filming in Necessity?”
Zeke laughed. “Yeah, but we voted him down. Tor’s a good guy—he really was trying to do what he thought was best for Necessity. Talked a lot about the kind of damage that a film crew could do to a town.” He looked thoughtful. “Of course, given what happened at The Chargrill today, I guess he wasn’t wrong.”
As Sophie narrowed her eyes at him, he spoke over any objection she might have. “Anyway, he’s who I called for help. I don’t have anything that might come close to being formalwear, so Tor is going to let me borrow something of his. We’ re supposed to go up to the big house. He’s going to have one of the guys drive you back to your hotel, too, if that’s okay with you. I could meet you there.”
She nodded distractedly. Other than a few actors, none of the billionaires Sophie had met in her time in Hollywood would be able to trade clothes with someone who had a physique like Zeke’s.
This I have to see.
Chapter Seven
Tor Edwards, billionaire owner of the Rocking Bar T Ranch, Zeke’s boss, and Colton’s second—or maybe third?—cousin, answered the door of the main ranch house. He was still dressed in the jeans and denim shirt he wore as his daily work clothes, and for the first time in years, Zeke tried to imagine how the boy he’d grown up with might look to outsiders expecting a more traditional billionaire.
He looks like a cowboy, he decided with a mental shrug. Just like the rest of us.
It was no wonder his girlfriend Leta mistook him for a ranch hand the first time she met him.
“Hey, boss,” Zeke said, placing one hand on the small of Sophie’s back and trying to remember what his grandmother had taught him about the correct order to introduce people. He knew Tor wouldn’t be offended if he got it wrong, but for the first time in his life, he really wanted to do everything just right. “This is Sophie Daniels. Sophie, this is my boss, Tor Edwards.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Daniels. Come on in, y’all. Leta’s in the living room.”
“Please, call me Sophie,” she said as Tor opened the door wider and stood back to allow them past.
And that took care of hurdle one—introducing her to Tor.
Luckily, Leta was not in the living room, after all. She had stepped up behind Tor and was introducing herself to Sophie.
“Thanks for helping out with this, man,” Zeke said, sticking his hand out to clasp Tor’s in a brief handshake and nodding firmly.
“No problem. Anytime.” Tor paused for a second, then tilted his head to one side and squinted a little at Zeke. “You told Mac about this yet?”
“Nah. He and Clara are on their honeymoon. Didn’t want to disturb him.”
“Mac is Zeke’s cousin, and—I think—used to do some work for Tor around the ranch,” Leta explained.
“Before Mac moved into the oil business, yeah,” Tor confirmed, shutting the door behind them.
“That’s one thing it’s taken me some time to get used to,” Leta said, ushering Sophie toward the large, open living area. “Everyone in Necessity is connected in some way, and everyone always knows what’s going on with everyone else.”
Sophie’s responding chuckle was lovely, but had reverted to what Zeke mentally dubbed her “actress laugh.”
“I deal with that a lot in Hollywood,” she replied.
“Oh, of course you do,” Leta said. “I guess it’s not that different from a small town in a lot of ways, is it?”
“Not at all.” Zeke and Sophie took seats on one of the long, brown leather couches—on the same side, but far enough apart so they weren’t touching.
Just a fake date, he reminded himself.
Tor disappeared long enough to bring everyone a glass of sweet tea, but Sophie put hers down on a coffee table after what Zeke suspected wasn’t actually a sip. He’d seen the full glass she’d left behind at his place.
More of her acting skills on quiet display, maybe?
“Based on my talk earlier with Zeke, I went ahead and made some arrangements for tonight. I hope you’ll let me know if they work for you, Sophie?”
“Of course,” she murmured.
Tor sat down next to Leta, taking one of her hands in both of his and absentmindedly caressing it with his thumb as he leaned forward to speak. “Colton is headed up here as soon as he’s done on the scene at The Chargrill. I figure he’s up here so much that no one would think anything of it, so he’ll drive Sophie back to her hotel.”
Sophie and Zeke both nodded their agreement, and Tor continued. “And then I placed a few phone calls. Leta and I had declined our invitation to the Cattlemen’s Ball originally, but we decided we’d like to go. Maybe we could all ride up there together, if it’s okay with you?”
Zeke hoped his sigh of relief wasn’t audible. He hadn’t mentioned it to Tor, but the thought of taking Sophie Daniels to a charity ball in his work truck—his only mode of transportation—had been a niggling worry at the back of his mind. He’d been trying to figure out how to ask her if she had a car service. Now he wouldn’t have to.
Sophie looked more surprised than pleased. “Are you certain you want to disrupt your plans like that?”
“It was actually my suggestion,” Leta interjected. “I thought it might take some of the media heat off
you to have us there—Tor hasn’t made many public appearances since we started seeing each other, so....” Her voice trailed off and she waved one hand, inviting them to finish the thought.
Sophie nodded consideringly. “You might be right. Okay. That sounds like a plan.”
Tor’s phone buzzed right then, so he pulled it out of his pocket and checked it. “Colton says he’s on his way. If it’s okay with you ladies, I will take Zeke back to see what we can do about a suit. Maria is coming up to do any alterations we might need,” he added to Leta, who nodded.
“We’ll be fine out here,” she reassured him, and Sophie smiled.
Zeke allowed himself to be led off, feeling a bit like he’d been swept up in a Texas twister and dropped in some alternate reality.
“YOU’RE SERIOUSLY GOING on a date with Sophie Daniels?” Tor hissed at his employee as he led Zeke to a back room of the main house—a complete reversal from the calm, in-control billionaire Zeke had just witnessed in the living room.
This was the guy who’d played baseball on the Necessity Niners Little League team with Zeke and Colton.
The one Zeke had no problem correcting. “No. She needs someone to go to some charity thing with her. I was available. That’s all it is.”
“You think Sophie Daniels can’t get a date?” Tor snickered. It was a good thing the two men had worked together mending fences and herding cattle—maybe even better that they had known each other all their lives and Zeke was well aware that smartassery ran in the family. Otherwise, Zeke might not have been able to avoid tackling his boss in the hallway. As it was, he knew not to take Tor’s ribbing too seriously.
Instead, closing his eyes for a second, Zeke raised his face and hands toward the ceiling, as if imploring a distant deity to hear his prayer. “Why won’t anyone listen to me about this? She needs help. There’ve been all kinds of new stories about her and her breakup with that musician guy. Showing up at a charity event with some no-name nobody will shift their attention.”
Loving Necessity: The Complete Necessity, Texas Collection Page 21
