“I’m not flustered.” But she was. And it was all Cade’s fault.
“You are. It sounds lovely. You’ve been too serious in your life, Sophie. I never understood what happened between you and Kurt, but I’m absolutely delighted at this news. I’ve been worried about you. Cheers to Cade MacAllister if he can discombobulate you like this.”
“It’s only about his photographs, Maura.”
“If you say so.” Then Maura relented. “The photographs will be a tremendous draw, kiddo. Congratulations.”
“I don’t have them yet. And he really can be cranky.”
“The privilege of a great artist. Go see your dog, sweetie.”
“Thanks for understanding, Maura.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I understand…but I think you’re a little confused yourself, and that’s not all bad.”
“Goodbye, Maura.” She was not discussing Cade one second longer.
“I told you there would be a much better man than Kurt come along. You deserve it.”
“Goodbye, Maura.”
“All right, all right. Goodbye, Sophie.”
A much better man than Kurt, indeed. Maura had no idea. The older woman thought his involvement in Sophie’s life had ended with their brief liaison.
But Kurt had created the scandal that cost Sophie her job and her reputation. He’d turned on her just for having the effrontery to break things off with him and, worse, to surpass him in the race to the top.
He’d gotten even. In spades.
And Maura’s beloved nephew, Gary, who had worked under Sophie, had been Kurt’s instrument in the scheme to discredit Sophie. He’d doctored the books for various accounts under Sophie’s control. But Kurt was clever and had disguised his tracks well, and Sophie couldn’t prove any of it. Even if she found some evidence, she’d be exposing Maura’s nephew to prosecution. So Sophie had chosen to perform the acting job of her life and convince Maura that she was eager and ready to open her own place, that she wanted to resign. When Maura had insisted on investing in the hotel, Sophie had been caught in her own deception.
Quickly she dressed and headed out, grateful that the vet was open later on Thursday evenings. She spared a minute to wonder if she should take him something—the dog, not the vet—but then she considered that he was probably on a strict diet and no doubt did not feel like playing, so she was fresh out of ideas on what she could take the animal she so badly hoped would want to be hers.
Less than a half hour later, she was standing in front of his cage. “Poor baby. I’m Sophie. How are you feeling?” She glanced around her to see if any of the staff were still nearby, but she was alone—well, her and about ten other animals. The dog studied her solemnly, brown eyes huge and sad.
“You’re going to be okay,” she crooned, and ventured a finger through the wires. His hair was so soft. Once, long ago, she remembered asking her parents for a puppy. Her father had made a distracted promise to consider it when she was older. Her mother had talked about shedding hair and who would feed it. Then they’d moved, and their apartment had been too small.... In St. Louis, wasn’t it? After that had come Houston.
Then the boating accident. Her parents had been together on a business outing for her dad, and she’d been with a babysitter. After that, no home. No puppy. No living relatives who wanted her.
She’d gone into foster care, where she’d felt as caged as this dog. As forgotten. A burden. After the third home, she’d run away.
“I won’t give up on you,” she promised. “I don’t know where to put you when the hotel is open, but I’ll figure something out.” She stroked his proud head and bent closer. His tongue swiped her cheek, and she couldn’t help giggling. “That tickles,” she said, stroking him again. She studied him. “Julian, you think?” She shook her head. “Maybe not. How about Finn? That’s a nice Irish name.”
The dog remained unmoved. She leaned in closer. “Skeeter?” she whispered.
His head rose. He began to pant, and she wondered if his expression counted as a doggy grin.
“That’s a terrible name, you know. You could have something much more dignified.”
He nudged at her hand with his nose.
“Let’s don’t be hasty. We can think about it, okay? I refuse to give Cade the satisfaction,” she murmured. But her shoulders shook with her chuckles. “Promise me you’ll keep this between us.” She bent her head into his nose, feeling both slightly foolish and comforted. Maybe that’s why people like dogs, she thought. A good dog felt like a good friend.
The noises of the clinic receded, and Sophie experienced a sense of calm for the first time in days. She laid her head against the cage and the warmth of the dog’s breath huffed softly against her hair.
She closed her eyes and let the peace take her.
CADE STOPPED JUST INSIDE the doorway as soon as he spotted her. He watched as a different Sophie emerged. Not the ice queen, not the worn-out laborer wired tightly enough to snap.
This Sophie was soft. Sweet. Exhausted and vulnerable.
And delighted. The habitual strain left her shoulders as she whispered to the dog, let her fingers stroke him, giggled when he licked her face.
She’s had a really hard life, Jenna had said.
A many-faceted woman. He found himself wanting to protect her, though he had no idea what from. A fragile beauty lay beneath that bossy, I-don’t-need-you exterior.
None of that was his concern, however much Jenna wanted to make it so. And he had his own problems. But maybe he could focus simply on that body he already wanted to get his hands on. She was attracted, so was he. He had time to kill and she needed help. They could keep things simple. He couldn’t provide her with any new shots, but he would wangle a tour from her first thing in the morning and get a sense of what she was after. Then he’d mentally put together a selection of his photos while he was working outside.
He’d even give her a cut-rate price, not because Jenna had maneuvered him into it but because he could see that Sophie’s back was against the wall and she had something special in mind.
There. He had it all figured out. He’d get stronger from working; she’d get her hotel open. And if a nice little fling came with the package, well…he wouldn’t complain.
Even though none of that got him back with a camera in his hand or the itch to shoot it.
Sophie stirred then, a welcome distraction from his dark thoughts. She was gathering herself to say goodbye, he could tell, so he slipped out the way he’d come without her noticing. She looked as peaceful and happy right now as he’d ever seen her in their brief acquaintance, so he’d let her be.
Besides, he was pretty certain he was going to be sore as hell in the morning. A hot soak at Jenna’s and early to bed—preferably before he had to discuss Sophie with Jenna.
He was tired, but it was a good tired. Tomorrow he had a purpose, and if it wasn’t anything he’d ever imagined himself doing, well…it was still a goal. He was too much a MacAllister to enjoy aimlessness.
He hazarded one backward glance before he closed the door.
“’Night, Skeeter,” he said quietly.
Sweet dreams, Sophie.
Before he left, he paid for the surgery and left instructions on where to send the rest of the bill.
CHAPTER SIX
IN THE MORNING, Sophie wandered outside just after dawn with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a cup of coffee, stifling a yawn. Her sleep had been broken by worries over the hotel, Maura, the dog…and the man she didn’t have time to be thinking about. She yawned again and wished for the leisure to walk over to her favorite coffee shop on South Congress for a real breakfast, but she couldn’t spare the hour away from the hotel. She wasn’t much of a cook herself. Her guests, however, would be treated to the wizardry of
the chef she’d hired. Patty was a native Austinite who’d trained at the Cordon Bleu, then done a stint in San Francisco before getting homesick and returning to Texas. It was Sophie’s good fortune to have hired Patty as the chef for the hotel she’d managed for her old company. Stealing her away now from the chain that had chosen to believe Sophie capable of perfidy was icing on the cake.
Patty had mentioned her interest in the slow food movement, using local ingredients as much as possible, which perfectly dovetailed with Sophie’s plans for Hotel Serenity. She hoped someday to do Patty one better and put in a sizable garden on the terraced area just down the slope. Patty wasn’t due to start for another couple of weeks, though, so Sophie would have to make do with her PB&J for breakfast.
On the back porch, she propped herself on top of the wide railing, leaned her head back against a post and listened to the mockingbird who serenaded her each morning—when, that is, she took the time to listen. Finn—she liked the name Finn, even if the dog hadn’t yet given his assent, which she chose to blame on being medicated—would love romping over the grounds when he was well. He couldn’t roam free with guests around, of course, unless he turned out to be very well behaved, but the vet had said he was probably five or six, so his pace would be slower than a puppy’s. She’d train him, if need be, and she would keep him with her as much as possible. He would have a good life.
“’Morning.”
Sophie jolted and nearly spilled her coffee as Cade strolled into view, clad in ancient jeans and a plain white T-shirt, a beat-up straw cowboy hat on his head, which should have looked ridiculous but instead seemed absolutely natural. He wore work boots and had leather gloves stuck in his hip pocket.
He looked strong and male and much too delicious. “What are you doing here?”
His smile did something to her insides. “Glad to know some things never change, Queenie.” He tipped his brim back with one thumb as though he’d done it a thousand times before. He was far too cocky for his own good.
Then he frowned. “Sleep badly?”
“That’s not your concern. I don’t—”
“Don’t need my help? Yeah, I got the memo.” And was thoroughly unfazed by it.
“Yesterday was a one-time thing, I never said you could come back. So why are you here?”
“Claiming my tour, for one thing. Figured before the workers show up would be better for you.”
Of course he was right, blast him. “Then will you leave?”
“Well, now…” He stuck his thumb in his front pockets and rocked on his heels in full-on aw-shucks-ma’am mode.
She didn’t know where this affable Cade had come from. She liked him better suspicious and surly. He was much easier to dismiss.
“The gazebo needs shoring up, best I can tell,” he said. “It’ll need painting afterward, of course, but I figure by this time tomorrow it’ll be just about done.”
She’d been forced to move the gazebo to the maybe later list, so to have it ready for the opening… But she couldn’t pay him, and she didn’t trust favors. No one did anything for free. “Why are you doing this, Cade? Seriously.”
His eyes held hers. “Not because you’re a charity case.” He lifted one shoulder and glanced away. “I’ve got time on my hands, all right?” He stepped closer. “Let me help you, Sophie. I know how to do a lot of jobs. Growing up on a ranch, you learn everything from nursing cattle to auto mechanics to building barns and repairing roofs.” His lips curved. “My dad figured out how to deal with four rowdy boys early on—you work ’em until they drop, then they don’t have the energy to get into mischief.”
Once again she envied the MacAllister children what they probably took for granted: a close-knit family whose members truly liked as well as loved one another and would battle the world for each other.
“From what Jenna’s told me, you somehow managed mischief, anyway.”
That grin again, the one that made her stomach flip. “She should talk.” He laughed and scuffed his heel on the sidewalk. “But yeah…boys will be boys, I guess.”
She considered all he’d already done and how much he really could help her. He was right, she needed it. And there were the photographs.... “Would you let me pay you?”
He scowled. “Hell, no. Friends don’t charge friends for helping out.”
“Is that what we are, friends?”
He flashed a grin. “For starters, anyway.” He waggled his eyebrows. “There’s still that hot sex option.”
Whatever its origin, his good humor lightened her heart, so she dramatically rolled her eyes at him. “Uh-huh.” Though a little thrill zipped through her at the thought.
“I’m pretty good, honey. Bet you are, too, long drink of water like you.” His gaze went hot as he scanned her.
“You’re not just trying to steal my dog, are you?”
He laughed. “Our dog. I’ll agree to joint custody. But to answer your real question, no. I’m not trying to seduce you in order to get the dog. You are plenty of motivation all on your own, Queenie.”
Her tummy fluttered. She finished her coffee and slid down from the railing. “The last thing I have time for right now is hot sex. Come on if you want the tour.” She walked toward the back door.
“Okay, I changed my mind.”
She turned to discover he was right behind her. “About what?”
“If you really believe you don’t have time for great sex, then I do feel sorry for you.” Before she could react, he halted her with a hand that lay warm on her hip. Everything inside her went still.
With exquisite slowness, Cade lowered his head to hers, hovering just a breath from her lips. “Take it from someone with recent experience… Life is too short to give up on the best parts.” Gently he nipped her lower lip then his tongue soothed the faint sting.
Inside Sophie’s chest, the beat of her heart skipped, and a sizzle scorched its way up her spine.
Dangerous. This I-want-you man, this amiable, unrelenting character posed a delectable danger that sorely tempted her to forget…everything.
She pressed still-buzzing lips together and slapped a palm to his chest. “I really, really do not have time for you.”
He didn’t grin, all signs of mischief vanished. “Make time,” he said in a gravelly register.
“I have to think.” She whirled from his grasp and all but lunged for the back door, wanting nothing so much as to slam it in his face and keep a safe barrier between them.
“I never give up on what I want, Sophie. Just so you know.”
She gripped the screen door in one hand to anchor herself before she steeled her resolve and continued on.
Even as a very yummy anticipation shimmied through her.
She spoke over her shoulder as she walked. “If you want the nickel tour, get a move on.” And told herself that didn’t count as running from him.
But the blasted man had the nerve to chuckle knowingly even as he brought that big rangy body once again much too close to hers.
Like a cat, she longed to rub herself all over him.
So she put distance between them again. Quickly.
“WE HAVE TO START AT the front door,” she said. “Don’t look until we get there.”
A few control issues, Queenie? But then he caught a glimpse of her face and saw the nerves there. This was her baby, he reminded himself. “How’d you get into hotel work?”
Surprise skimmed her features. “By accident.” A fond smile. “I was… I didn’t go to college right after high school, like most people.” A lift of one shoulder. “Actually, I didn’t go to high school for long.” Then her face shuttered as if she regretted telling him so much. “Anyway, a few years later when I had to work to put myself through college, I saw an ad for a night desk clerk at a hotel in Memphis. I
had the notion that I could study at night at the desk, since my other job as a waitress was nonstop action.”
“I never went to college,” he said, to make her feel more comfortable.
“Really?”
“All I cared about was my camera. I was convinced that on-the-ground experience was what was important, not some degree program.”
“Did you ever take classes on photography?”
“Nope. I’m not much for formal instruction. Never even read the directions on any camera I’ve owned. I put more stock in personal experience. Trial by fire, I guess. Eventually you learn what you need to.” He grinned. “Digital sure helps, though. Before that, I burned through a lot of film, never positive at the time what was working and what wasn’t. I mean, I could always see the shot I wanted, but capturing it the way my mind pictured it? Not the same.” A hint of the old adrenaline taunted him, and he yearned to hold on to it with everything in him. But just as quickly, it was gone.
He seized upon the closest topic to distract himself. “So you decided you liked the hotel field?”
“Amazingly enough. I was a business major already, but I went into hotels at first because the industry seemed sensible. Practical.”
Did she know how much of a dreamer she was? How her eyes dimmed when she used words like practical? “What was it you enjoyed about that work?”
“I was good at a lot of things, I discovered.” Her expression made it clear that was a surprise. “I’m very organized, I’m excellent at planning, I have excellent people sense....” Nervously, she tucked a strand of hair behind one ear.
“Jenna said you were way up the corporate ladder.” Abruptly he remembered that Jenna had also spoken of something bad happening.
Her mouth tightened. “That’s in the past.”
And obviously a sore subject. “Okay. So why this place?”
Her frame relaxed. “I first saw it when I worked in Austin before. Jenna and I were out on a walk. The place was so buried in vines and out-of-control shrubbery and trees you could barely see the shape of it, much less its potential.”
A Texas Chance Page 7
