He also wanted to see some of the newer horizontal extraction equipment in action. They spent more than one day out in the middle of nowhere among giant, loud machines. She teased him about that. There was plenty of state-of-the-art equipment to see in Texas, after all. They also spent some nights in some not-so-attractive motel rooms in tiny towns with limited lodging choices.
But Ethan was in his element. It seemed to her that he was happier than she’d ever seen him. He loved being out in the wide-open, windy expanses of northeastern Montana, wearing old boots, a wrinkled shirt, a faded pair of Wranglers and a sweat-stained straw Resistol cowboy hat. He’d always dreamed of being a real, old-time oilman like his dad had been, back when the industry was wide-open and everyone thought the supply of black crude would never run dry.
One night, at the Golden Lariat Motel on the outskirts of a tiny town called Coyote Creek near the border of North Dakota, they sat in molded plastic chairs out by the pool after a really bad dinner at a local greasy spoon. The pool was empty. Not that it really mattered. The wind was blowing and it was too cold for a swim anyway.
“Such a scenic spot,” she said drily, shivering a little in her light jacket, staring across the deserted highway at the lonely-looking gas station on the other side.
He hoisted his dusty boots onto a spare plastic chair. “This is the life, Lizzie.” He sent her his cockiest grin. And then his expression changed. He gazed into the distance. “Being CFO? It wasn’t working for me anymore. I was beginning to feel like I was suffocating. A man can’t spend his whole life waiting for the older generation to retire, you know?” He sent her a glance.
“I get it,” she said. “And I think it’s great, that you’re moving on. I really do. I think it’s the best thing for you, to make your own place in the company—on your own terms.”
He was watching her. “I’m glad you’re here with me. For now, at least.”
“Me, too.” As she said it, she realized it was true.
His slow smile made her heart kind of stumble inside her chest. “Feel free to change your mind and stay.”
“Not going to happen.” She said it softly. A little bit breathlessly.
“You’re a damn stubborn woman, Lizzie Landry.”
“And you, Ethan Traub, are a pigheaded man.”
He gestured at the dusty, empty pool, at the deserted highway and the endless, dry land around them, at a lonely tumbleweed bouncing down the center line. “I can’t believe you want to give up all this.”
She frowned. “Are you going to start in on that again?”
“I’m persistent. It’s why I succeed at most things I do.”
“You won’t change my mind. It doesn’t matter what you say, or how much money you offer me.”
“I really hate that I’ve started to believe you.”
“Only started?”
He didn’t rise to that challenge. Instead, he asked, “And what about when I want one of your chocolate-chip muffins? Or a strawberry-rhubarb pie?”
“You’ll have to have them shipped up from Midland. And it will cost you.”
“Ouch. That’s cold.” But he didn’t look especially upset about it.
He really was making his peace with the changes between them. Slowly. Reluctantly, he was letting her go.
She told herself that was for the best, that his acceptance of her leaving was what she wanted.
But her heart felt heavy suddenly. Weighted with the coming loss.
Of Ethan. Of the special relationship they shared as colleagues. As friends.
As…
Okay, she might as well admit it: as possibly so much more.
Mon Dieu, as her dear maman might have said. Where was she going with this? She’d been after him for months to accept that she was leaving. She was finally getting somewhere with that, finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, seeing the day coming when she could move on and he could wish her well as she left him.
She should be pleased. But instead, she was feeling droopy and dejected about getting exactly what she wanted.
It made no sense. Last week, she’d called him an ass. Well, who was being the ass now?
“Okay, Lizzie,” he said in a low, teasing voice that played dangerous music on every one of her nerve endings. “What’s happening inside that head of yours?”
She met his waiting eyes. Oh, she did long to tell him—that she wanted her bakery and she wanted him, too. She wanted to stay with him. And she needed to go. That she didn’t do casual when it came to the man-woman thing—and yet, she was actually considering making an exception in his case.
Uh-uh. No good was going to come of telling him all that. It would only confuse him all over again. He didn’t need that.
Neither of them needed that.
“Just watching the empty highway,” she said. “Waiting for something exciting to roll by.”
He laughed, a low, sexy rumble of sound. “Liar.”
“Look.” She pointed toward the two-lane road. “Another tumbleweed.”
He didn’t look. He kept right on staring at her. “You want to change your mind—about anything—you be sure and let me know.”
Lizzie did nothing of the kind.
Not that night, or any of the remaining nights that they were on the road. They worked all day. At night, they had dinner in diners and chain restaurants. They were joined by any number of interesting characters, by crusty ranchers and land brokers. They even met up with a few current TOI employees, landmen Ethan had sent on ahead to start lining up the mineral-rights possibilities—a landman being a professional who secures oil and gas leases, checks legal titles and attempts to repair title defects so that drilling can begin.
After each day’s work, they retired to their separate motel rooms. The next morning they got up, drove to the next meeting and did it all over again.
They returned to Thunder Canyon Sunday around noon, after ten and a half days on the road. Ethan was pleased with all they had accomplished. He was already talking about getting equipment in place and hiring rig crews for the leases he was acquiring in the most promising areas.
He went to his office. Lizzie unpacked, whipped the house into shape and left to buy groceries. Ethan appeared in the garage when she returned and helped her carry everything in.
“Don’t cook tonight,” he instructed, as he hauled in the last armful of bags.
“Why not?” She’d been kind of looking forward to her own cooking after the endless chain of diners and greasy spoons they’d been eating in.
“I got a call from Allaire. While we were on the road, we missed the second-annual summer-kickoff barbecue last weekend at the Rib Shack. Allaire invited us there for dinner tonight to kind of make up for our missing the big event.”
“Where?”
“The Rib Shack, up at the resort. It’ll be a family thing. Allaire and DJ, Dax and Shandie.” Dax Traub was DJ’s older brother by a year. Shandie was Dax’s wife. “And that’s not all,” Ethan said. “Dillon and Erika are coming. And Corey and Erin are back from their honeymoon, so they’ll be there, too. Allaire says they’re all looking forward to seeing us.”
Lizzie paused in the act of putting lettuce in the crisper. Us, he’d said so easily. As if the two of them were a couple or something.
But they weren’t. And they never would be. And she really, really needed to remember that.
The problem was, lately, it was getting harder and harder to keep in mind that in a matter of weeks, she would be in Midland and he would be here. And it was very possible, unless he happened to come down to Texas and drop in at her bakery, that she would never see him again.
Never see him again.
The words echoed in her mind. They did not make a pleasant sound.
“Lizzie, did you hear a single word I just said?”
She pushed the crisper drawer shut, pulled her head out of the refrigerator and gently shut the door. “Of course I heard you. The Rib Shack for dinner.”
; He seemed hurt. “You should see your face. What? You don’t like DJ’s ribs?”
It wasn’t the ribs that had her looking glum. It was…all that stuff they’d promised each other they were putting behind them. It was losing him, which she was beginning to understand she actually dreaded in the worst way—losing him to live her lifelong dream.
Losing him. Hah. As if she’d ever even had him.
She knew very well she hadn’t. Not really. Just because they worked together and lived in the same house and were good buddies, well, that wasn’t the same thing at all as them being truly together, the way a man and a woman could be. Like Allaire and DJ. Like Dillon and Erika.
Like Corey and Erin.
Like her mom and dad had been all those years ago.
She forced a grin that only wobbled a little. “Are you kidding? DJ’s ribs are the best. Melt-in-your-mouth tender. That special secret sauce to die for…”
“Lizzie…” He came to her and put his hands on her shoulders. It was the first time he’d touched her on purpose since the night she called him an ass and he’d promised to change his attitude. The first touch in days and days.
And it felt downright wonderful.
Those lean, strong hands of his, clasping her shoulders. The warmth of him. And he must have showered while she was out shopping. He smelled so fresh and clean. And she’d always loved that aftershave he wore….
“You’re trembling.” He said it softly and his eyes were full of warmth, full of hope.
And promises—no, not of forever.
But of a glorious, magical, perfect right now.
“It’s nothing,” she told him on a whisper that trembled just as her body did.
“And now you’re lying to me. Again. The way you did that night by the empty pool at the glamorous Golden Lariat Motel.”
“Oh, Ethan.”
“I knew what you were thinking that night. I know…a lot about you, Lizzie. More than you give me credit for.”
“It…hurts, that’s all.” She shut her eyes, let out a groan. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that.” And then she met his gaze again. She never wanted to look away.
“What hurts?”
“Don’t make me say any more, Ethan.”
“I’m not making you say—or do—anything. And you know I’m not.”
She gulped to clear the clenching of her throat. “I… It’s only that sometimes I think about how much I’m going to miss you. It hurts to think about it. It hurts a lot.”
The light of triumph flashed in his eyes. “So don’t go.”
Step back, she thought. Pull away. Do it now.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she did what she’d sworn she wouldn’t. She told him the truth. “You know I have to go at the end of July. It wouldn’t work now, for me to stay on, even if I didn’t have dreams of my own to make happen. You’re in my heart, Ethan. I couldn’t go on, just working for you, with us being friends. It wouldn’t be enough for me. Not now. Not anymore.”
He touched her face, a caress that sent another warm shiver sliding through her. He whispered her name. And then he gathered her close and wrapped his arms around her.
And she let him, even though he hadn’t said that she was in his heart, too. Even though he hadn’t said, Stay, Lizzie. We’ll work it out, you and me.
Really, why should he say that? She knew him, after all. And by his own declaration, he wasn’t the kind of man a woman counted on for a lifetime.
Still, she sighed in relief and joy, just at the feel of his big body pressed close, of his arms so tight around her.
And when he tipped up her chin and lowered his mouth to hers, she only sighed some more and welcomed his kiss.
Oh, my. Oh, yes…
Kissing Ethan in the kitchen.
It could easily become a habit for her.
It felt so good, so right. So exciting, so exactly as a man’s kiss should feel. Why was it that no other man’s kiss had thrilled her quite like Ethan’s did?
He had a way of holding her in those big arms of his, a way of slanting his mouth just so, a way of tempting her to open—and that tongue of his. Really. There ought to be a law against a tongue like that. So clever, so…skilled. So very, very good at arousing her, at making her think how lovely it would be to fall into the nearest bed with him.
To stay there for the rest of the day and all of the night.
Her body felt hot and hungry. Needful in the most delicious way. And she couldn’t resist pressing herself even closer, feeling more than she should have of how much he wanted her.
The man was an artist when it came to kissing.
And why shouldn’t he be? asked the faint voice of reason somewhere way in the back of her desire-addled mind. He’s certainly had enough practice.
That did it—just reminding herself of all of the girlfriends he’d had. Of the trail of broken hearts he’d left behind him in Texas.
She leaned back in his arms, breaking the sweet, endless kiss.
His long, thick black lashes lifted and he looked at her. His lips were soft from kissing her. And his eyes were heavy-lidded. He asked, gruffly, “Second thoughts? Again?”
She gave him a bright, determined smile. “Sorry. I had a moment of weakness there. My bad.”
Gently, he put her away from him. And then he let her go. She tried not to feel the loss of his touch too acutely.
He said, “I’m not going to make the same mistake again.”
She didn’t follow. “Mistake?”
“I’m not going to act like a jerk or get angry with you. I like you. So much, Lizzie. You’re my friend. A good friend, steady, honest and true. And I admire the hell out of you, I really do.”
“Uh. Thanks. I think.”
“And I want you. I want you so bad. But I’m not going to die if I don’t have you.” He winced. And then he actually chuckled. “Even if right now, it feels like I might.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. And as it turned out, she didn’t need to say anything.
He wasn’t through talking. “I’m not going to be cranky. And I’m not going to be an ass. If it’s meant to happen with us, it will. I just want you to know that I’m willing. More than willing.”
“Well, Ethan, I kind of figured that out already.”
“Good. Then we’re on the same page with this.”
“I need to think it over.” The words were out before she even realized she would say them. They shocked her a little and she felt her cheeks coloring. Every day she was getting closer to taking the leap. To going for it.
To making love with Ethan.
Maybe, she found herself thinking, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to live in the moment for a change, to let down her guard a little. Really, did she always have to be looking ahead to the future, planning for what would happen next?
For five years now, since her dad lost the bakery—no, before that. For ten years, since her beloved maman had died so quickly and brutally of cancer, she’d been living her life with such strict care. She’d pushed herself constantly, denying the pleasures of the moment to create a stable future for herself, a future neither death nor a loved one’s heartsick inattentiveness could ever steal from her.
She’d been most careful of all in the men she dated. There had been only a few and they’d all been good marriage material.
But where had all that carefulness gotten her? None of those cautiously chosen men had worked out for her, none had stolen her heart and left her breathless the way Ethan did.
Stolen her heart.
Oh, yes. He had. He truly had. Ethan Traub had stolen her heart. She should probably be angry about that. It wasn’t as though he was giving her his heart in return.
But she wasn’t angry. She forgave him totally. She could love him for who he was and leave it at that.
He asked, “Whatever happened to that banker you were dating—what was his name?”
She felt, at that moment, that he could actually see in
side her mind, that he knew just what she was thinking. She answered flatly, “His name was Charles. Charles Smith. And it didn’t work out.”
“And the insurance salesman? And what about the guy who taught high-school geometry?”
She gave him a stern look. “Get to the point.”
“They were all really nice, stable, trustworthy guys, weren’t they?”
“Just say it, Ethan.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt you to take a risk on a different kind of guy now and then, that’s all.”
She braced her fists on her hips and made a very unladylike snorting sound. “A risk with you. That’s what you really mean, isn’t it?” She was glaring at him, but it was only an act.
In her mind was the realization that she had reached the all-important crossroads in her life. She would have her bakery, just as she’d planned. And Ethan had accepted at last that it would happen, that he would have to let her go.
She was thinking, what could it hurt? To just…be with him, for a little while? To be with him and for once to let the future take care of itself?
He finally answered her question. “A risk with me is exactly what I’m suggesting. So if you decide you want to go for it, you let me know.”
“I’ll, um, keep you posted.”
His smile was wry and genuine. “Hey, a guy can’t ask for more.”
Chapter Eight
At the Rib Shack up at the resort, black-and-white pictures of cowboys and weathered buildings hung on the walls, each one tinted a faint sepia color, bringing back a feeling of the old West. There was also a large mural that showed scenes from Thunder Canyon history. Grant Clifton had told them it was painted by Allaire.
“Smells good in here,” said Ethan.
Lizzie grinned at him. They’d been to more than one Rib Shack together. “Always does.” Like DJ’s other locations, the place smelled of the famous Rib Shack sweet-and-tangy sauce. Her mouth watered in anticipation of a big helping of messy, to-die-for ribs.
Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan Page 10
