Sweet Texas Charm

by Robyn Neeley

  He stopped into the men’s bathroom to wash his hands, staring in the mirror at his disguise. Would the man behind the beard and fake contacts have given Becca a glance, let alone a moment of his time?

  He didn’t like that the answer was probably no.

  He washed the soft green mush caked on his hands and reached for a paper towel. Funny. He hadn’t thought about the shares all week, and he didn’t want to think about them now. “Coop,” he said to his reflection, “I’m shifting your goals a bit. I need you to convince Becca that Grayson’s not an asshole. Can you do that?”

  Laughing at the image that nodded back, he left to retrieve his keys and wallet out of his locker. This would be another night of greasy takeout and crashing in his bed, but he’d wake up completely energized to get back into the factory and do it again. That feeling was awesome.

  He headed into the break room and froze in his tracks at the sight in front of him. “Whoa.”

  Becca stood in front of her locker, buttoning up her denim top, her black bra exposed.

  “Oh my God.” Her hands flailed as she quickly covered her chest. “I thought I was alone.”

  He turned his back, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “I didn’t see anything.”

  “What are you doing here so late?” she asked, and he could tell she was seriously annoyed.

  “I thought I’d help peel some avocados.”

  “You know there’s no overtime for that.”

  “I know.” He stared straight ahead, not moving a muscle. “I just thought it would be nice to work a different area of the factory. How about you? Why are you here so late?”

  “I was trying out a recipe. You can turn around now.” She crossed the room to the kitchenette counter. “Sorry about the show.”

  I’m not.

  And she looked hotter than hell in her denim shirt and short khaki skirt that showed off her tanned legs.

  “No boots.”

  She smiled. “Not tonight.”

  He glanced over at the kitchenette filled with colorful mixing bowls and ingredients, a plastic bag filled with avocado skins off to the side. “Is that dip you’re making?”

  “Yeah, would you like to try some?” She grabbed a bag of tortilla chips and ripped it open.

  Hell, yeah! “Sure.” He sauntered over to the counter.

  She rummaged through one of the kitchenette’s drawers, pulling out a spoon. “Wait until you taste this. Your mouth is going to shoot straight to heaven.”

  He gulped. His mouth had already enjoyed a heavenly experience, and that was from nothing more than tasting her lip gloss. Even the best dip in the world wouldn’t rival that.

  Going over to her side, he leaned his back against the counter. “Is this the dip you were talking about the other day at lunch? The healthier version?” He scanned the counter. None of the ingredients seemed out of the ordinary, but there was something extraordinary about the dip. What was it?

  “It is.” She plunged the spoon into the mixture, handing it over to him. “Here you go. Try it without a chip first so you can experience the full flavor.”

  His mouth came down on the spoon and his eyes immediately rolled back. Yep, this was the same dip he’d had before. “Becca, this is sensational.” This time he didn’t lie.

  “It is, isn’t it?” She grabbed a chip from the tortilla bag, dipping it in and taking a bite. “I’ve been working on this for more than a year.”

  “A year? That’s persistence.”

  “Or pathetic.” She sighed and dipped a chip. “You know, my mom was the reason I started experimenting. Even before I started working here, she loved her guacamole.”

  “Does your mom live in Sweet Ridge?”

  “Yes. She lived in the mobile home park a couple miles down the road for the last thirty years, but I moved her into the Ridgemont Assisted Living Center. She’s had some health issues.” She put her hands on the mixing bowl, a few uncomfortable seconds ticking before she continued. “There’s something about guacamole that makes her happy, so I like to keep her refrigerator stocked with plenty of it. I don’t know. Maybe it’s a childhood memory.”

  Grayson’s heart squeezed at what she’d had revealed. Not only was this woman devoted to his dad’s company, but he recalled their first conversation at the Silver Spurs—when she’d said Guac Olé was more than a dip and that it made people happy, she was speaking from experience.

  He reached for a chip. “Well, it’s hands down the best guacamole I’ve ever had. We seriously need to sell this.”

  That got a huge sarcastic laugh as she began to clean up around her. “First, I would need the guy you’re staying with to like it,” she said, placing Saran Wrap over the strawberries she didn’t use, “and he didn’t seem that impressed when he tasted it.”

  “He was just messing with you.” He reached for another chip, scooping up as much dip as he could get onto it.

  She spun around, her face full of confusion. “How do you know? Did he say that to you?”

  He blinked. You’d think after two weeks in this disguise he’d stop slipping up. “Um … yeah, he kind of mentioned it.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “What exactly did he say?”

  He’d said a lot of things. He’d thought a lot of things, too. There were so many feelings he was having lately for this woman and for the factory. Emotions he hadn’t thought he was capable of having. This amazingly talented woman could accomplish great things with a little help. Maybe it was time to show her what she was capable of.

  Instead of answering her question, he took her arm, leading her out of the break room.

  “Coop, where are we going?”

  “To e-mail Grayson. We’re setting up a meeting for next week to present the next product in the Guac Olé brand.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “So, let me get this straight. You and Coop are going to make your special dip for Grayson. Do I have that right?” Tangie asked from the other side of the dressing room stall.

  “Yes, but that’s not all.” Becca had recruited her best friend to join her after work for a trip to the mall a couple of towns over. They could have done this shopping excursion over the weekend, except that Tangie was headed to San Antonio with her brother first thing in the morning. Becca really needed her opinion before she left town. She had three hours to get what she needed before meeting Coop back at Guac Olé.

  She slid on the royal-blue silk top that her friend had picked out and then stepped into a black pencil skirt, zipping up the back. “We’ve been working on a business plan the last couple of nights after work. That’s what we’re going to present. We’re putting the final touches on it tonight.”

  Becca glanced at herself in the mirror, turning to see how the back looked. Even in a suit skirt that fit to perfection, could she really pull this off and present her dip to Grayson along with a business plan outlining where to sell it?

  She’d admit it. When Coop led her that night to her office, insisting the dip would be a home run if they expanded their product into restaurants, she’d got caught up in his over-the-top enthusiasm. And did that man have a lot of it.

  To have someone she’d met only last week tell her how amazing her dip was and then come up with a great way to sell it had been both flattering and exhilarating. In his short time at the factory, Coop really understood the Guac Olé product and brand.

  And his idea was a good one. Tex-Mex restaurants might love the fresher, healthier version of their product. Before she knew what was happening, she was sitting in front of her computer, her fingers typing an e-mail to Grayson.

  Grayson didn’t respond right away—and she really didn’t expect him to, since he was still on vacation—but shortly after she got home, there was an e-mail waiting for her, in which he said he’d be delighted to meet on Monday and suggested that his marketing execs attend as well.

  She sat down on the dressing room bench, removing her cowboy boots and slipping on her new pointed black heels sh
e’d bought at the beginning of this shopping trip. Tangie insisted she try them on with her outfit and start breaking them in.

  Her toes would no doubt start to throb soon, but she’d suffer through the discomfort. There was no way she’d show up in her cowboy boots or factory-approved rubber-soled shoes. No, she needed to play the part, and that, unfortunately, meant endearing some pain.

  She stood and stared at her reflection. Was she ready to pretend she was a capable businesswoman? “I won’t be alone. Coop will be with me,” she said softly into the mirror.

  She’d asked him to attend and had been a little surprised that he didn’t jump on the offer. After all, it was his idea. He’d blinked for a few awkward seconds before agreeing to join her. Having Grayson’s friend in the room might help diffuse any tension between her and the CEO.

  What an employee Coop was turning out to be. Maybe she could get him a gift certificate while she was here, to thank him for going the extra mile.

  It was the least she could do. Not only did people love him on the floor, but he was in her corner as her own personal cheerleader. And he was smart. Suggesting her dip for restaurants was brilliant. He’d even come up with the idea of selling the trademark recipe so restaurants could make it fresh with their avocados. It solved her biggest worry, whether her dip could be prepackaged for a grocery store.

  “Hey, Tangie,” she called out. “What do you think Coop would be into?”

  Tangie cackled from the other side. “Leather and handcuffs if you’re lucky.”

  Becca cracked open the door. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Of course not,” her friend teased. “Now, would you finish putting on your suit so I can see it? We’ll talk about your perfect guy later.”

  Becca shut the door and slid on the matching suit jacket, playing with its sleeves.

  Coop would be the perfect guy.

  Except for the fact that he wasn’t Grayson. It had been almost a week since their kiss, yet no matter how hard she tried—and she had done her best to push any thoughts of him aside—her mind apparently had a fixation of its own, constantly drifting back to that incredible hot moment when Grayson’s lips touched hers.

  Somehow she’d fallen for his stupid charm. All of it. His sexy dimples, the way he interacted with his brothers, the passion he had for the company. How could she have let this happen? There were nice, decent, and hardworking guys like Coop out there who were probably better suited for her.

  Would Grayson see her as an equal in this getup? Even in this expensive power suit and fancy heels she still felt like Becca Nash—simple country girl and line production supervisor.

  “Boss, I’m dying to see your outfit,” Tangie said, tapping on the door.

  “Okay.” She opened it, a little excited to hear what her best friend thought. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

  “Oh … my … God.” Tangie’s jaw dropped.

  “‘Oh my God’ good, or ‘Oh my God’ bad?”

  “You look amazing.” Tangie patted her shoulder. “So smart.”

  “What are you saying? Are you suggesting I’m not smart in my white smock?”

  “No, of course not. You know what I mean. Wait until Swanky Suit gets a look at you.” She whistled. “I’m going to start calling you Sassy Suit.”

  “You do, and you’ll be slapping lids with Coop,” Becca warned.

  “That’s not the only thing I’d like to slap with that man.” Tangie brought her long, blonde hair over to one side, grinning from ear to ear. “That is, if you’re really not interested.”

  Becca smiled back. “He’s all yours. Although, is Coop really your type?”

  She shrugged. “He’s kind of cute. Although, have you ever noticed—” Tangie stopped herself. “Never mind.”

  “Noticed what?”

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “It’s his hair.” Tangie bit down on her lip. “There’s something funny going on with the top of it, the way it combs over. Maybe it’s a toupee.” She brought her hands up and wiggled her fingers. “Perhaps I’ll have to run these guys through it and find out.” She paused, adding with an inquisitive eyebrow, “Are you a hundred percent sure you wouldn’t like a shot with him?”

  “No, we’re just co-workers, nothing more.” Becca played with the zipper in the back of her skirt. She hadn’t told her best friend about what had happened between Grayson and her at Gavin’s engagement party. It was too humiliating to admit that he’d kissed her and then apologized profusely for doing it. No, she’d keep that embarrassing encounter to herself. She kicked off the heels and slid her feet back in her comfy cowboy boots where they belonged.

  She snapped her fingers. Boots. That’s what she should get Coop as a thank-you gift. “I need your help with something.” She grabbed her purse from the dressing room, pulling out her phone. “Coop should be at my desk right now, and I told him I would call if we are running late, so he should pick up. Find out his shoe size.”

  “For what?”

  “Just do it.” Becca punched in her work number and handed Tangie the phone while she went in to change.

  Tangie laughed from behind the stall. “Now you want his shoe size. Sure you’re not interested?”

  “I’m not. I’m just doing something nice. If Grayson ever did anything to help me to further Guac Olé, I’d buy him boots, too,” she said sarcastically. Seriously, hell would freeze over before that ever happened.

  • • •

  Grayson clicked on the Excel sheet, entering in some final figures. The blood was flowing, and it felt good to be doing the work he was good at. The business plan he and Becca had come up was freakin’ genius.

  He picked up the strawberry key chain his dad had given him. Maybe working with this woman was the answer to his father’s question because damn, he’d never been happier. He placed it back in his jeans pocket so as not to lose it.

  Brainstorming ideas with Becca night after night as they pored over the proposal, coming up with product placements, and crunching numbers together had been a major turn on. He’d had to stop himself several times when she scooted her chair closer or looked over his shoulder, wishing that he could pull her into his arms, clear the desk with a swipe of his hand, and show her how much he wanted her right then and there.

  He shifted at that thought and hit save on his Excel sheet just as Tangie popped her head in. “Okay, are you ready?”

  He glanced up from his computer. “Ready for what?”

  “To see Becca, of course. She objected to putting on her new threads until the meeting, but I talked her into it so that she’d start to get comfortable in them.”

  “New threads,” he repeated.

  “Coop, let me present Ms. Sassy Suit.”

  “Stop calling me that.” Becca passed Tangie, and his heart stopped.

  She was stunning—albeit almost unrecognizable—in a black suit jacket and skirt that showed off her gorgeous tanned legs. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek and sexy bun.

  “You look incredible,” he said in his own voice but was quick to add in a Coop-like accent, “Prettiest lady in all of Guac Olé.”

  “Isn’t she?” Tangie fussed with Becca’s hair. “You’d hardly recognize her in this disguise.”

  He gulped at the word “disguise.” “How do you feel, Becca?”

  “Like a fish out of water, or more like an elephant on roller skates.” She was a little unsteady in her black high heels. “I’ve been trying to get used to these all evening. I don’t understand how some women can wear these every day of the workweek. If I get through tonight without chucking them in the garbage bin it’ll be a miracle.”

  Tangie wiggled her nose at the thought. “Don’t you even consider it. They’ll stretch. Give them a chance.”

  Becca took a seat and rolled her chair next to him. Her sweet vanilla scent swarmed around him like it had the last three nights. He could get used to this routine.

  “What are
you working on?” she asked.

  “Just inputting some of the last few figures we talked about.”

  “This is where you two go all brainy on me.” Tangie snapped her gum. “And my cue to leave. I’ll see you both on Monday. You still doing the yoga poses I taught you, Coop?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” That was no lie. That nifty little stretch while bouncing on his toes was a real lifesaver when he felt his back was about to break.

  She started to leave but turned. “Oh, Becca. I’ll put the other item we bought in your locker. It’s still open.”

  “Thanks, Tangie, for all your help. I’ll see you next week.” She pulled a notepad off the desk and clicked her pen. “Can I see that last spreadsheet?”

  “Sure.” He clicked it open, and her blazer touched his arm as she leaned over. The irony that he was dressed in his beat-up work jeans and cheap black T-shirt while she was decked out in a suit was not lost on him. How was it that in two weeks they had completely traded roles?

  “Are you ready to finish this?” he asked, a little sad that the proposal would be done after tonight. His ruse as Coop would be ending, too. Since he obviously couldn’t go to the meeting with Becca as Coop and Grayson, tonight would be the last time Becca saw him in this getup.

  He wasn’t sure what lie he’d tell, but he had no plans to return to Guac Olé on Monday morning as Coop Jackson.

  He clicked the mouse, and they got to work. Two hours later, Grayson typed in the last word as Becca dictated while she paced back and forth.

  “I think it’s done.” He smiled up at her. She’d taken off her jacket, the blue top showing off her sexy, toned arms.

  As the document printed, Becca sat down and kicked off her heels. What he wouldn’t give to pull her legs onto his lap and give her a celebratory foot massage.

  “I can’t believe we’re done.”

  “You’re going to knock their socks off.” He stood and picked up her shoes, handing them to her. “Are you going to make it home tonight in those?”

  “Probably not.” She laughed and took the shoes, wedging her feet back into them. “Oh my God, I almost forgot. I have something for you. Follow me.” She grabbed his arm, like he had hers three days earlier, leading him to the break room. Funny how they had come full circle.