Crazy for Lovin’ You

by Teresa Southwick

Her cheeks flooded with color and her gaze lowered to his shirt collar. “We’re not talking about me.”

  “But we could.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’d rather talk about you.”

  He nodded. He had nothing to lose by laying his cards on the table. “Okay. After Jen I moved on.”

  “I know.” Her gaze didn’t quite settle on his. “I still remember the stuff in the media. How did it feel to be on the Most Eligible Cowboy in Texas list? A buckle bunny in every port?”

  “I think that’s the navy. And don’t believe everything you read,” he warned her.

  The tension in her body said she wanted to climb back in the saddle and ride that one until she’d gentled it. But he wasn’t going there. He was a bachelor, but definitely not eligible. He’d once heard nothing was as bad as your first love gone south. The hurt of it was something you never forgot. Jen was smart, beautiful, socially accepted, the kind of woman a guy like him wasn’t supposed to have. And he’d found out he couldn’t have her.

  “I’m glad Jen’s okay. I wish her all the best in her life,” he said. “I don’t hold a grudge, Taylor.”

  “I’m glad,” she said fervently. “I wish my dad could see you now. What a success you are.”

  Would he be such a success if Zach had lived? He liked to think the rivalry made them both better and that he would have beaten Zach Adams. The only thing he’d ever wanted was to be number one, fair and square. Now he would never know.

  “I heard your dad passed away.”

  She nodded. “Heart attack. A little over a year ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded. “He wasn’t a hard man. In fact just the opposite.”

  “If you say so.”

  “He just had trouble showing his feelings. Even with Jen and I. It was his way of building character. But he never missed a school or sporting event. I don’t think he disliked rodeo as much as he worried about me participating.”

  “You knew him better than I did.”

  “You’re right. And he would be glad you’re so successful.”

  “Yeah. And pigs can fly,” he scoffed.

  “It’s true. In fact, you remind me a lot of him.”

  “Them’s fightin’ words,” he said.

  She cocked her head to the side and her eyes twinkled. “Did you just make a joke?”

  “If it gets out I’ll deny it. And wherever he is, I don’t think your dad would take kindly to you comparing me to him. You’ll be dodging lightning bolts if you’re not careful.”

  “Go ahead. Make fun of me. But he wasn’t a man to let on that he cared about the people in his life. It was only okay to be openly emotional about the ranch. I think you hide your softer side like that, too.”

  “I used to. When I was younger. But I had a lot to prove back then.”

  She slid him a speculative, appraising look. “So what does your softer side care about?”

  “Like I said—rodeo.” It was safe to care about that. It was business and only as personal as he cared to get about anything.

  “So you’re not really back to prove something?” she asked, looking as if she could see something he couldn’t.

  He shook his head. “I’m here to make sure there are championships. That’s all.”

  He still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to Dev’s suggestion that he fill in as commissioner. He’d meant to say no and the next thing he knew, he’d agreed.

  “Obviously you know I’m interested in having it here?”

  He nodded. “Dev Hart told me. We’ve kept in touch. I suppose you already know that he took over the stock business from his dad.”

  Taylor nodded. “We still feed and take care of some of his rodeo animals.”

  “That’s right,” he said, feeling as if a video in his head was replaying pictures. More to himself than her he said, “I used to work at the gas station in town to earn the ten bucks a ride your dad charged to let me practice on the bulls. That’s how I first met your sister,” he added, then kicked himself.

  He thought he’d forgotten all that. Was it the familiar surroundings bringing it all back?

  “So what did you and Dev talk about?” she asked, ignoring the personal and turning the conversation back to business.

  Fine with him, Mitch thought. He needed to end this stroll down memory lane. “Dev supplies prime stock to local rodeos as well as events all over the country. When I asked him if he had any suggestions for a site to hold the championships, he suggested the Circle S. I have to admit I was surprised—until I heard about your dad’s passing. He wasn’t a big rodeo supporter.”

  “That’s not completely true. He raised stock to sell for the events. He just wasn’t happy about me barrel racing. Watching me compete took him away from the ranch.”

  He grinned, as a memory flashed into his mind. “You were the quickest little thing I ever saw. Fourteen seconds the last time I saw you ride.”

  “I never raced again after that.”

  “Why not? You had so much potential.”

  “As you said, I didn’t have my dad’s support.” Her frown said there was more, but she closed up tighter than the chute after the bull got out.

  “I’m surprised you remembered my time.”

  No more than he was. He’d suppressed almost everything that happened back then. But now memories—about her—were surfacing in spite of himself. She’d been a kid back then. But she was all grown up now. And pretty. Too pretty for his peace of mind.

  “Your time was the same as your age,” he said.

  “I’m impressed,” she commented, looking anything but. In fact she looked as if she was waiting for the other shoe to fall. “Memory by association. Good technique.”

  “Is that flattery?”

  “Heaven forbid. Your ego’s twice the size of Texas now.”

  He laughed, charmed by her straight talk. He’d had enough insincere compliments to last a lifetime. Women came on to him, wanting to hang around for their own selfish reasons. “About the rodeo—”

  She leaned back against the counter on the other side of the room. “So Dev told you I’d be interested?”

  He nodded. “Said you’ve got a project in the works and it would help you out.” He’d been real curious when he’d heard that.

  “You already know the ranch,” she said nodding. “Why do you have to inspect it?”

  A good question. His first instinct had been to look elsewhere. But he owed it to the hardworking rodeo kids to find the best location to showcase their talents.

  “My memories of the Circle S are from ten years ago, when I was just a kid. I need to see that you can handle the crowd, the animals. That the facilities are in good shape. There’s a lot more to it than putting out the date and time. We have equipment, vendors, supplies, not to mention a budget.”

  She smiled. “Spoken like a genuine businessman.”

  “If the boot fits—” He shrugged.

  Her smile lit up her face like the town square at Christmas. His responding flash of heat took him by surprise. She was so the girl-next-door, kid-sister type. But there was something about her, something different from the sketchy details he remembered.

  He studied her more closely. Brown eyes warm and welcoming as expensive brandy looked bigger and more beautiful than he recalled. Her face had softened into a woman’s, along with her body. She was still small, but she’d filled out in all the right places. The cotton shirt she wore emphasized the shape and size of her breasts. She wasn’t stacked like the groupies who had pursued him on the circuit, but she would fit a man’s hands perfectly. She would fit his hands—

  He shut the gate on that thought before it had time to form. How she would feel was on a need-to-know basis and he didn’t need to know.

  But he couldn’t stop himself from looking. He continued his assessment to her trim waist in khaki slacks that showed off her slender legs. He couldn’t help wondering how she would look in a worn pair of jeans, soft enough to caress
her backside like a lover’s hand. He would put money on the fact that she could have every guy in a crowd slack-jawed and bug-eyed. Just an impartial, impersonal observation. Nothing more. She was a woman any man would be proud to have by his side.

  Any man but him.

  “Would you like me to show you around, or do you want to check out the place on your own?” she asked.

  After the thoughts he’d just had, he would be nuts to accept her offer. Common sense told him to go it by himself as he always did. But before he could get the right words out, he heard himself say, “I think it would be helpful if you gave me the tour.”

  Helpful to whom? Beneficial to what? Certainly not him. Women had been kicking him in the teeth since he was ten years old. He would much rather have done business with Taylor’s father. At least the man was up-front about the way things were. No surprises. God, Mitch hated surprises.

  “Okay,” she said. “My truck is in back.”

  “Let’s take mine,” he countered.

  “Are you one of those guys who’s prejudiced against women drivers?” she asked, one eyebrow lifted with undisguised challenge.

  His gaze snapped to hers and he saw the twinkle there. He grinned, his blood warming to her fire. “What if I am?”

  “Then we’ve got more problems than whose truck to take,” she said.

  “How so?”

  “My last name is Stevens. I’m in charge. And you’re going to have to deal with me.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked, as if there was something he should know.

  “I’m positive.”

  It was the Lord’s honest truth. As much as he wished otherwise, he was looking forward to dealing with her—more than he’d anticipated anything for a long time.

  “Good,” she said nodding. “Then let me point out that I know this ranch like the back of my hand. If I drive, you’ll be able to see more.”

  “Okay. Your point is well taken. And there’s nothing I’d like more than being chauffeured by a pretty lady.”

  “So what do you think?” Taylor asked Mitch.

  “What do I think?” he mused.

  She had parked her truck beside the barn and they walked the short distance to the corrals. They stood side by side with their forearms resting on the top of the fence. Well, he was standing in the dirt and she was on the first slat, but their shoulders were even—and the occasional brushing together generated a sizzle of awareness. Actually more like sparks which created a serious fire hazard in her parched heart. What would it take to fan the embers into flames?

  Taylor tried her darnedest not to notice the subtle scent of his aftershave, or the warmth of his body beside hers. She tried hard to shove the sensations to the back of her mind. She had more important things to worry about. Like getting the contract for the championships. Like forgetting that he was not the angry man who had told her she kissed like a little girl. Now he was very much a man. And she was a woman, standing close enough for her to feel the unbridled effects of his masculinity.

  Her breath caught when his gaze met hers. She’d seen the Pacific Ocean on a cloudless, blue-sky day. She’d marveled at the breathtaking water that glittered like diamonds, yet wondered what dangers lurked below its surface. Even in the shadow of his hat Mitch’s eyes glinted, too, and she couldn’t help questioning what was going on in his mind.

  “Tell me what you think,” she said again.

  “The ranch looks good,” he said carefully. “Even better than I remember. You’ve made some changes. Are you ready to tell me about the project you’re working on?”

  No, she wanted to say. She was afraid to let him know how much she needed him. It was bad enough when all she’d had to worry about was his memory of what she’d done ten years ago. But now she knew how he’d found out that the girl he loved had loved someone else. She knew better than anyone how deep that hurt could go.

  If he’d waited for revenge, time had supplied him with the perfect means. All he had to do was hold the rodeo somewhere else. Her plan wouldn’t necessarily fail, but it would take her a lot longer to succeed. Time was her enemy. The added boost of publicity right out of the chute would give her a leg up on a win.

  Maybe she could sidestep his question. “What are you looking for in a rodeo site?” she asked.

  He thumbed his black hat higher on his forehead. “Lots of land, first off,” he said. “There has to be room for vehicle parking and that includes horse trailers and campers. You’re not too far off Interstate 20, so that’s a plus.”

  “What else?”

  “Space for portable grandstands and food vendors, a freestanding corral big enough for the events.”

  “I’ve got that,” she said pointing to the areas encircled by pipe fencing. “Three arenas, and one is long enough for the barrel racing, goat tying, and pole bending events.”

  “I noticed. What I want to know is why.”

  “Why what?” she asked.

  “Why you have three. What do you need them for and why is the dirt soft and churned up?” He met her gaze again and asked, “What have you got up your sleeve?”

  “You make it sound like I’m trying to pull a fast one.”

  “I didn’t mean to.” He turned away from the corral and leaned back against the fence, folding his arms over a pretty impressive chest.

  To distract herself from his masculine pose, Taylor took the brunt of his full-on stare. Then she stepped off the fence and stood up straight. “I’m getting ready to open the ranch to visitors.”

  “You don’t mean a dude ranch,” he said, looking as shocked as when he’d gone backwards into the pool.

  She nodded. “B&B, Texas style. The arenas are for activities—riding, roping. If a greenhorn takes a tumble, soft dirt is more forgiving.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s softer and—”

  He shook his head. “I meant why are you altering the operation from a working ranch?”

  “It will still be a working ranch. As long as there’s breath in my body I’ll do that kind of work. But I think that will add to the charm. This is something I’ve always wanted to do—take people with harried lifestyles and show them what silence is like. Give them a taste of a traditional Western lifestyle.”

  “And?”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. Anyone in Destiny could tell him if he asked. “I needed to do something not so closely tied to agriculture. Drought, beef and feed prices, all that can make a financial difference.”

  “Why is that so important now?”

  “I’ve got a mortgage.”

  “Since when?” He frowned. “I thought your dad owned the land outright. Did something happen?”

  “He died. Mom put the ranch up for sale.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Why does that surprise you?” she asked, studying the expression on his face.

  “Your family is proud. A pillar of the community. Landowners in Destiny for several generations. It just wouldn’t occur to me that a Stevens would sell out.” A frown settled in his eyes, making his expression dark.

  Was he thinking about her sister? Jensen had sold him out with another guy. At least Mitch believed she had, even though her sister had followed her heart.

  She sighed. “My mother was born and raised in North Dallas, a sophisticated city girl through and through. She was happy here as long as my dad was alive and running the operation.”

  “But not after he was gone?”

  She shook her head. “She missed him. And there were too many memories here. He inherited the land so she had no emotional connection except through him.”

  “But to sell it out from under you,” he said. “That seems a little harsh.”

  “Even for a Stevens,” she finished for him.

  “You said it, I didn’t,” he answered with a shrug.

  “Not that it matters, but she was a Stevens by marriage.” So much for water unde
r the bridge and not holding a grudge. It would be best not to count on any help from him, she decided. “Mom needed the money for retirement in Dallas,” Taylor explained. “She couldn’t stay here and didn’t have the resources to get away. It was her only choice.”

  “And you couldn’t let the land out of the family.” It wasn’t a question.

  Vaguely she wondered how he’d known her so well. “I guess I’m like my dad in that way. It means something to me that there’s been a Stevens on this ranch as far back as anyone can remember. Roots that deep are hard to pull.”

  “I’ve done pretty well without roots.” His mouth hardened into a tight, straight line.

  “I’m not rubbing your nose in it, Mitch. I’m just explaining why I’m in charge now.”

  “Okay. But why a dude ranch?”

  “I’m excited about the prospect of having guests and showing them a way of life that I love. And—” She stopped, wondering if she dared expose even a hint of weakness. But she had little to lose in telling him. “I think I can make this place profitable.”

  “What happens if you don’t?”

  That was something she’d tried not to think about. All her energy had gone into positive planning. She kept telling herself failure was not an option. Now she was almost ready to open the chute and she was scared to the bone.

  “Taylor?”

  “If it doesn’t work, I could lose the ranch,” she said quietly. “Mom and Jen would help, but I want to do this on my own.”

  “I’m guessing that by holding the championships here you’ll get publicity and word-of-mouth endorsements.”

  “That’s right. If the right folks have a positive experience, the PR would be invaluable. Not to mention—”

  She stopped. She was already lucky he hadn’t laughed her from here to Fort Worth. There was no way he would actually help her unless it served his needs at the same time.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” she said. She turned away and started back toward the house.

  Mitch fell into step beside her. “Tell me.”

  “First you tell me whether or not you’re going to give me the go-ahead to have the event here.”

  They walked in silence for several moments. He stuck his fingertips in the pockets of his jeans. The memory came to her like a lightning bolt illuminating a pitch-black sky. He always frowned and stuck his hands into his pockets when he was deep in thought. Why did she have to remember that? She didn’t want to recall anything about him or what had happened in the past.