* * *
Megan listened to King carry on about his ranch, his cattle, and—surprise—his olive grove, and wondered if she was going to have to fight him off later. She clutched that paper bag with her pink hat in it, still simmering about that crack he’d made. Oil Rig Barbie. Jerk.
“So, Karen is here. I thought she was in Europe.”
“She’s going to be heading to Italy with me next week. I’ve made several trips there, to study about this olive oil business. Since she speaks Italian, I asked her to come along.” He grinned. “Now, if you want to take her place, I can always tell her to forget it.”
“I don’t speak Italian, King.” Megan stared at the trees planted in neat rows. “Seems like it will take years before these trees yield olives.”
“Not too long. Some varieties take less than three years to produce. I’m trying several different ones. You know, this area is known for growing spinach. I have fields of it. Because the soil here is good. But I decided it was time to diversify.”
“Spinach. I saw a statue of Popeye in the town square.” Megan laughed. “So, that’s why.”
“It’s big business in these parts. But oil pays better. Then the oil crisis came along. When the price per gallon dropped, so did my royalties. Thank God I’d made your dad sign a contract. Connie wasn’t paying much attention to the details when we hammered it out and I got such a deal.” He had the good sense to flush. “Well, let’s just say I have clauses in there that will keep the wells pumping, but the royalties will always be tied to the price of oil. That’s a damn shame. It sure has hurt my income from the wells.”
“Yes. You have to know I am keenly aware of what a shame that is.” Megan knew it would do no good to antagonize him when they might have to shut down his wells anyway. Of course, he was a shrewd businessman, she’d always admired that about him. What surprised her was that he had pulled something over on her father, who’d always been shrewd himself. Her daddy must have been suffering more with his heart problems toward the end than they’d all realized.
“I’m sorry, sugar.” King reached for her hand. “I liked your daddy. He could wheel and deal with the best of them. But our contract stands. It’s just business. You understand. Don’t let it come between us.”
She slid her hand out from under his. “There is no ‘us,’ King. We had a moment. Okay, maybe an hour or two. I made a fool of myself. Won’t happen again. But it was sweet of you to offer us a place to stay. I’m happy to be your friend.”
“Now, honey, don’t say that. Friend? We went further than that. So, please say you’ll relax and enjoy the time we spend together here. Let me remind you why you went home with me that night. Give me a chance, Megan.” He reached out and took her chin in his hands. “Or do you have something going on with that ‘boss’ of yours?”
“Don’t be stupid. I barely know Rowdy. He used to be with my sister. If anything, he hates the Calhouns because Cassidy dumped him.”
“I’d heard you discovered you have a new sister. So, this Baker is her ex?” King looked thoughtful. “And you just happened to be working with him this year.”
“Yes, well, I needed to find someone who could teach me about oil, and Cass introduced us. Right after she broke up with him. It wasn’t because she was in line to inherit some of Daddy’s money, but because she met someone else. Still, the timing has to haunt Rowdy. And Cassidy’s new guy is Mason MacKenzie.”
“Ha! Another rich oilman who happens to be a good friend of mine. We went to college together. He’s a stand-up guy. But all Baker probably noticed was that Mason’s got a butt load of money. I bet that killed your boss, who’s just a working stiff.” King didn’t exactly look broken up about that.
“Can you blame him? Guys like you and Mason with your ranches and planes and expensive toys are impossible to compete with. Rowdy would have to be bitter about how his relationship with Cass fizzled when it did.” Megan felt guilty even talking about Rowdy with King.
“Well, then. I have a shot. Because, you’re right, any woman with the Calhoun name will be poison to him.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Now, promise you’ll be nice to Karen. I know you and she never did get along. For God’s sake, don’t show her that hard hat. She’ll laugh to bust a gut.”
“Didn’t you post the picture on Facebook? You going to tell me she doesn’t follow you?” Megan had good reasons for not being one of Karen’s fans, but she’d never tell King what they were.
“Oh, shoot. Of course I did. So she’s already seen it. Might as well put the thing on and play it out. If you don’t, she’ll make sure you suffer.” King unlocked the doors. “Your boss just pulled in behind us. I’ll get Karen to show him to the bunkhouse. That should help distract her.”
Megan took King’s advice and slapped the hat back on her head. She let him help her out of the high-riding truck, then realized Karen Sanders had come out to greet them. King must have called her before they’d left the well site. The two were twins, both tall, dark, and handsome. Karen had a voluptuous figure that she always showed off in expensive designer clothes. King was a masculine version of his sister and clearly spent plenty of time working out and in the sun if his tan could be believed.
“Oh my. That hat! It looks even more ridiculous in person.” Karen laughed until she had to wipe a tear from her eye. “Megan Calhoun, you are just too funny.” She grabbed Megan’s shoulders and gave her air-kisses. “Welcome to the Rocking S Ranch.”
“I knew you’d want to see it. Check out the workmanship. They have this man out there on the oil rigs, working in all that mud and heat, who is an absolute genius with a paintbrush. I’m going to get him under contract to do some special designs for that little boutique I used to own. You remember it, I know. You were one of our regulars.” Who had rarely paid her bill on time. Or, worse, had complained endlessly if a salesperson didn’t treat her like visiting royalty.
“Yes, I still shop there when I’m in Houston. ‘Treasures’. A cute little place.” Karen held out her hands. “Let me see.”
“I still enjoy hunting for things to consign there.” Megan handed Karen the hat. “Imagine custom jewelry and painted denim outfits for the rodeo. My sister Shannon knows everyone on those rodeo committees. She could certainly spread the word.”
“I wonder if he could paint on leather. I would love a vest and matching skirt with some of these vines and flowers painted along the seams. In turquoise cowhide, I think.” Karen’s eyes were alight with the avarice of a dedicated shopper. Megan had known this about her for years.
“I’ll make sure you have first dibs on any orders. How’s that?”
“Perfect. And I’ll expect a discount. You did find this artist working on one of my wells, didn’t you?” She turned as Rowdy walked up. “And, speaking of workers, who’s this tall drink of water in the truck bringing what I guess is your luggage?” Karen licked her lips. She shopped for men like she shopped for clothes, though she had only just dumped husband number three. She always went back to her maiden name after the divorce. Rumor was that she had her eye on an Italian prince for number four.
“Rowdy Baker. He’s my boss since I’m working for the company now. Rowdy, Karen Sanders.” Megan watched Rowdy’s eyes widen as he dropped her duffel in the dirt to take Karen’s hand in his. Karen wasn’t listening to her. She was too busy making sure Rowdy got a look at her cleavage in the barely buttoned red silk blouse that flowed over her tight designer jeans. And he was taking full advantage of the sightseeing opportunity.
“Let’s all go inside and get out of this heat and dust.” King took Megan’s arm. “Sugar, where’s your luggage?”
“It’s that bag at Rowdy’s feet.” Megan wanted to laugh at the way her so-called boss was being treated to Karen’s manhandling. She had latched on to him and wasn’t about to let go, asking him questions and barely waiting for the answers.
“King! Surely you don’t expect Rowdy to sleep in the bunkhouse with those cowboys, d
o you?” Karen dragged Rowdy with her as she stomped up to her brother. “These two are our guests. Why, we have plenty of room in the house. I have a wing to myself, Rowdy. A room right next door to mine is empty, in fact. Come on, honey, I’ll show you.”
“The bunkhouse is fine by me.” Rowdy did finally speak up.
“Nonsense. And we’re having cocktails in the living room right after you and”—there was a delicate sniff—“Megan have a chance to shower and change.” Karen’s orange-painted nails made dents in Rowdy’s tanned forearms. “You’re not going to disappoint me, are you? I do own half of this ranch. Seems like you’re drilling on my land.”
“No, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” Rowdy smiled down at her and let her lead him away.
“A hundred bucks says she has him in her bed before midnight.” King grunted as he hefted Megan’s stuff and headed into the house.
“I’m not taking that bet.” Megan refused to admit that she didn’t have a hundred bucks. Or that she was very afraid a man who needed to get his rocks off might be happy to enjoy what Karen had to offer. Not that it was any of her business. The ache in the pit of her stomach was obviously hunger. What time was it, anyway?
“Smart. Why bet on a sure thing?” King pointed her down a hall.
“Karen has her ways, and Rowdy’s a healthy, single male. They can have at it if they feel the urge.” Megan said it breezily and patted herself on the back for pulling that off.
“So, you really don’t care what he does.” King threw open a door to a large bedroom. “Good to know.” He dropped the bag and gestured. “Here’s a bathroom, and I’ll be cleaning up myself. Yes, right next door. I have hopes, too, Megan.” He laughed at her expression, then moved closer, suddenly serious. “I told you, I remember every single detail of our time together. I want another chance. With you sober enough to remember, too.” He put his finger under her chin and dropped a kiss on her lips before she could step out of reach. “Now, I’ll be waiting in the living room whenever you’re ready. Dinner in about an hour. Okay?”
“King.” Megan didn’t know what to say. If she shot him down now, she’d be hustled right back to that junk heap of a trailer. And he did look tempting. Handsome, sure of himself, and kind. She cleared her throat.
“Thanks, King. I appreciate your hospitality.” Megan stopped him by the door. She kissed him on the cheek. “No promises. It’s not your fault that I might have sent out mixed signals in Houston, at Eli’s wedding.”
“No, I got your signals. You were carrying a torch for my best friend. I knew it, didn’t care. I wanted you, sugar, and set out to get you. When you agreed to come home with me, I knew I’d hit the jackpot. So I didn’t look too closely at the situation. My bad.” He folded her into his arms and rested his cheek on her hair. “Damnation, woman, you smell like oil and gasoline. You sure you have to work in that shit for a year?”
Megan laughed and pushed back. Thank goodness King still had his sense of humor. She’d always liked that about him. She’d gone home with him that night for the wrong reason, needing comfort from a friend. And King had been a friend to her. Unfortunately he’d pushed for something more than she was willing to give then. Now? Well, he was still a man with a lot going for him.
“Yeah. I want my piece of Calhoun. If anyone should understand, it’s you, King. It’s a family business. Like this ranch.”
“Yep. I get it. But it’s a hard way to make it. What if I offered you a different way? I could buy your part for you.” He rubbed her cheek and then frowned at the trace of mud he came away with. “Marry me and I’ll spot you the cash to do just that.”
“Stop it, King. You’re being way too generous. Trust me when I tell you that I’m no prize.” Megan touched his cheek, rough with his evening scruff. He was darkly handsome, with a toughness that ranch life had given him. It hadn’t been so obvious when she’d met him in the city. Out here, she could see it. And the intelligence in his dark eyes appealed to her. But the essential chemistry, that zing that she felt with . . . No, not going there. Anyway, she couldn’t encourage this.
“Don’t put yourself down, sugar. You have no idea what I want. You’re scrappy, tenacious.” He grinned. “Oh, look at you, surprised I know big words. I did go to college, you know. And Wharton School of Business. You keep trying to put me in the friend zone. I’m not settling for that this time. You need to relax and give me a shot. There’s more to life than oil rigs and family duty. Let me show you the world.” He gathered her in and gave her a world-class kiss.
Megan leaned into it. Giving him that shot. She closed her mind to everything but this man in front of her, holding her against a rock-hard body that fit surprisingly well. She opened her mouth, tasted him, let him taste her, and even relaxed enough not to mind when his hand smoothed over her jeans and caressed her bottom. Oops. She felt it when he got close to her cactus wounds. She flinched, but he took it as encouragement and made a move toward her breast.
No, she just couldn’t. So, she stepped back and patted his chest.
“I’m sorry, King. You are a good friend. Now I’d better hit that shower.”
“I could scrub your back.” His smile didn’t fade when she shook her head and shoved him toward the door. “I’m not giving up.”
“I’ll give you points for persistence.” She smiled but wondered why she didn’t feel the zing, the thrill, the got to have him ache between her legs.
“I’ll take them. Later, Megan.” He held on to the door and winked. “And keep that hard hat beside your bed. Did you think “Oil Rig Barbie” was a slam? Sugar, I had fantasies about my sister’s Barbie dolls back in the day that would make a hooker blush. So, think on that, why don’t you, while you’re naked in the shower?” He eased the door closed with a laugh.
Megan leaned against the wood and fanned her face. Well, she had that ache between her legs now. Too bad it wasn’t King Sanders she was picturing easing it.
Chapter 7
Dinner was the promised feast. Megan sat at the massive mahogany table with a crystal chandelier hanging over it while a young woman brought in platters of roast beef in a wine sauce, buttered new potatoes, and creamed spinach, along with a salad. While inhaling the tantalizing smells, Megan also admired the heavy silver at her place setting and the fine china. This ranching family knew how to appreciate the finer things, even though they were miles from the nearest big city.
“That’s beef from our own stock. I guarantee it will melt in your mouth.” King opened a bottle of wine and frowned at the server. “Where’s Carmelita, Angela? I wanted to introduce her to Megan.”
“She was tired, complained of a headache, and took to her bed.” Angela smiled. “She will be all right. I think she’s pouting because you didn’t bring your guests to her right away.” She studied the table. “You want bread? I can bring out some hot rolls. It will only take a few minutes.”
“No, I think this is enough.” Karen held out her wineglass to her brother to be filled. “You sure she’s okay? It’s not her blood pressure, is it?”
“No, she’s taking her pills.” Angela shook her head. “She says eat your spinach, Mr. King. No excuses.” She hurried away from the table.
Megan saw him grin. “Your housekeeper orders you to eat your veggies?”
“She’s more than just our housekeeper. You’ll see when you meet her tomorrow.” He filled everyone’s wineglasses and then turned the talk to Houston and people they knew there.
By the time Megan pushed away from the table, she’d concluded that someone who cooked as well as the mysterious Carmelita could name her terms. King had certainly eaten two helpings of the delicious spinach, even after Karen had explained that they’d been raised on the vegetable since it was their biggest cash crop after cattle. They were both pretty tired of it, no matter how Carmelita dressed it up.
When Megan stood, the room spun for a moment and she had to hold on to the edge of the table. Oh. Maybe the glass of wine she’d had before dinner an
d the second one with it hadn’t been a good idea. She was exhausted, and this day had been endless.
“Let’s adjourn out by the pool. I think it’s finally cooled down, and I’m sure there will be one of Carmelita’s fabulous desserts and coffee ready for us out there.” Karen latched on to Rowdy’s arm, urging him to walk out there with her. He’d been pretty quiet during the meal. Of course, he didn’t know the people the Sanders twins had insisted upon talking about.
“I should check on Lucky.” Megan hoped her words hadn’t slurred, but she was afraid they had.
“Your dog is fine. The cowboys are enjoying him. Don’t be surprised if they try to keep him.” King kept his arm around Megan. “You okay? You look a little wobbly.”
“I am. It’s been a long day. Remember, it was only yesterday that we barely survived a tornado. No wonder I’m still reeling.” On top of that, it was only two days since she’d left home. Didn’t seem possible.
“She was hurt then, too.” Rowdy hadn’t gone far. “She took a bad hit from a cactus.” He ignored Karen, who kept pulling on his arm, determined to get him outside. “She still can’t sit without wincing. Or didn’t you notice, Sanders?”
This got Karen’s attention. “Are you kidding me? You got cactus needles in your butt?” She laughed.
“Not funny, sis.” King looked Megan over, as if he could see through her long dress. “Sugar, you should have said something. Can I get you a pillow? Have you had a doctor check you out?”
“I’m feeling better. Just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Or not good sleep, anyway.” Megan liked King’s obviously genuine concern. She should probably give him a real chance to charm her. “Rowdy had to ply me with liquor so he could get those damn cactus spines out without me leaping off the bed.”
That got the Sanders twins exchanging looks and what must be a secret signal. Because Karen got busy. Before he could blink, Rowdy was sitting beside the pool with a coffee cup in his hand and a plate with a giant wedge of tres leches cake in his lap. King practically carried Megan to a well-cushioned chaise lounge chair at the opposite end of the pool. He made a show of seeing to Megan’s comfort, fixing her coffee just the way she liked it and serving her cake before he sat at her feet.
Texas Fire Page 10
