Cavanaugh

by Jody Kaye

  “I’m looking at you, Lil.”

  There was no reason to meet the cowboy’s gaze. She’d done it enough sitting in the stands at the county fair.

  “You shouldn’t leave my cousin waiting. He’s called on you enough times in the past three days to make me wonder if we’re even friends anymore.” The sarcasm hid Rose’s slight panic.

  “Don’t be melodramatic. Rodger sat his butt on those hard metal stands, same as me, while you and this rider pretended neither of you were stealing glances at one another.”

  At first, Lily Anne had raised a light eyebrow at the idea of spending so much time sitting in the arena. Later, whenever a chance to skedaddle away from Rose presented itself, Rodger and Lil’s conversation touched on Rose’s odd behavior. Patience with men was not a virtue she possessed. Neither of them figured out why Rose never approached him. It was more like her to gain access to the back door and hunt him down.

  “Something tells me that soon enough you won’t care where Rodger and I are.” Lily Anne touched Rose’s arm, then left to sit with her boyfriend.

  Rose licked her lips, leaving them parted. The lower one, now glossy, was set in a pout that she’d perfected to leave a man wondering what damage she’d inflict on him. Her stomach tumbled twice while she fought to gain her composure and the upper hand. She turned her face, brushing her long, light hair over her shoulder, exposing her tanned neck and the strap of a low cut, white tank top that revealed the barest necessities. Her leg bounced back and forth a few times so that he’d notice her favorite dark designer cut-off jeans and the required stamped boots that ended trim mid-calf.

  “Did I chase her off?” the cowboy asked, holding onto the tall chair back.

  “No. I can go get her, though, if it is Lil that you want to talk to,” Rose teased.

  “You can introduce us later.”

  “I can’t do that until I know who you are,” she replied. A coy smile twitched on her lips.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled and emerald irises sparkled with endearing mischief as he offered his right palm. “Ross,” he said, settling onto Lily Anne’s stool.

  Lil was right. Up close the cowboy was even more attractive. The way his green gaze drew Rose in she’d be drunk on him by sun up. She crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs together.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ross. My friends and I saw what happened in the arena this evening. You put on quite a show.”

  She meant with the horse, but the words took a different tone in the dark bar. Her gaze fell upon the hair sprinkled on his bare forearms and trailed up his cuffed red plaid towards his collar then back toward his gleaming eyes. Rose found herself licking her lip again, becoming parched as her pulse accelerated.

  Ross noticed her empty glass. “Can we get two more of the same, please.” He ordered from a waitress passing by, placing cash on her tray to cover the drinks.

  “Thank you,” Rose offered amiably.

  “My pleasure.”

  She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

  “So, ah, you spend a lot of time watching the rodeo? I didn’t happen to see you depart,” he lied. Rose’s tail had swished as she walked up the bleachers to the exit. Her gig was as entertaining to him as anything going on in the ring had been for everyone else.

  “If the right cowboy can prove to me it’s a good time. Lily Anne and I left after your… performance.” The exaggeration was as good a hook as any.

  “She’s the friend whom you’d invite back here if I’d like to get to know her?”

  “Yes,” Rose responded, knowing that Ross had no intention of asking her to do so.

  Ross thanked the waitress who’d returned with their fresh drinks, setting them down along with Ross’s change and removing Rose’s empty. He leaned forward, bringing his fingers to a vee, brushing them down across where he’d shaved after finishing his stint on the circuit. It had been a long but fantastic few days. Ross loved having a chance to ride. And the filly tonight had been sweet with a definitive a kick to her, not unlike the one he was sitting with now.

  After Rose left the stands Ross hadn’t thought twice about her. Plenty of beautiful women caught his eye. Sometimes they introduced themselves. Other times they were too shy. This one was the type that he’d expect to find waiting in the wings, but she hadn’t shown.

  She was younger than he preferred, adept at flirting with her eyes, body, and tongue for that matter. So far she was proving to be quick-witted, though, Ross had no intentions of sticking around to find out how true that was. He’d chosen this watering hole for a drink by coincidence. It happened to be where his truck pulled in tonight so that he was in close proximity to tomorrow’s job.

  However, there was no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth. If the Good Lord saw fit to put this girl on Ross’s path, then he was going to be glad in it.

  “Do you have a name? Initials? Any sort of moniker that you go by?”

  “Rose.”

  “Would you like to dance, Rose?”

  “You rope, you ride, you dance. Is there anything you won’t do?”

  “I guess you’re bound to find out now, aren’t you?” He clasped her hand, pulling her from her seat.

  Ross led Rose to the dance floor. As the song changed to something slower, he pulled her close. It was only then that Ross realized that she was so much smaller than her personality. Tucking the siren into his chest, his chin came above her head, creating a soft place for her cheek to rest against his breast.

  Warmth built between their bodies, spurred on by the trapped heat in the bar. As they rocked back and forth on the dance floor a surprising chill rolled up Ross’s spine, igniting warning bells and causing gooseflesh to appear on his skin. Every part of Ross that wasn’t pressed against Rose sought the heat of her touch. He was thinking with his cock. Except he wasn’t. Even when he decided to approach the table, he’d never had any intention of taking Rose to bed. He still didn’t. That wasn’t Ross’s way.

  Although, he’d like to see those big brown eyes, high cheekbones, her plump lower lip that was the stuff men built fantasies around and with her cradled to him that was proving difficult.

  Ross cleared his throat. The small tremor caused Rose to lift her head from its pillow. The way she looked at him made Ross realize that if he stuck around too long she’d have a noose around his neck. Rose was the type of woman who’d lead him to the gallows come morning.

  He watched her fingers trail up his forearm, leaving an impression in his skin as her nail continued up his bicep. Rose was trouble with a capital T. Nope. She was definitely the one thinking with his cock, not him. Ross still had enough blood flowing to his brain to understand that getting involved with her was a bad idea.

  Rose hesitated at Ross’s peck, removing her touch from him altogether and reaching up to clasp her hands behind his neck.

  She’d been looking for a reason to change positions. She found Ross’s chest too comforting, and the way his arms wrapped around her midsection conveyed that he had no intention of taking whatever was going on between them to the next level. He held her the same way Rodger had since they partnered at Cotillion, but something about the steady thump of his heart made Rose’s own pulse slow as if she’d been drugged. It lulled her into a sense of peace. Soothing the wicked thoughts she’d tended. Cooling her boots and making her wonder if a rough-handed cowboy would be more apt to make love to her. Trailing tender kisses down her belly, blowing on that dampened skin, causing every hair on her body to stand on edge. That rumble in his chest had brought her out of the fantasy. She must have cocooned herself too close. In Rose’s experience, no man was apt to like that too soon. Those who did often proved false, like the men that her daddy suggested were suitable for her.

  She had an uncanny awareness that Ross was different, kind. Kinder than any man she’d seduced. Not guileless, though. It was almost as if Ross knew who he was, and what type of person she was. Except that was silly. They’d only just met. He didn’t know
her at all.

  She peered up, captivated. “I’ve never seen eyes as green as yours.”

  For a split second, she wanted to know everything about him from his favorite color to how he calmed those horses.

  He said nothing in return. A soft shift of his eyes to traced her features, stopping at Rose’s lips.

  If Rose got him to kiss her, there might be a chance that she’d regain the balance of power. It was a sucker’s bet. For once in her life, Rose was sure she’d do anything a man asked of her. A gentleman cowboy of all people would be her undoing.

  Rose knew the exact note in the song when Ross decided to leave. They swayed until the music ended, and he held her a split second longer. Right before Ross disengaged she thought there was an off-chance he’d change his mind. He didn’t.

  “This was nice, Rose. I appreciate the dance.” He took two steps backward, heading for the exit.

  “Where are you going?” A strong panic lodged in Rose’s throat. She held back the quiver in her voice, tamping it down. Men and boys alike didn’t affect her this way. She never let them.

  He shrugged, “I have to work tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll find a way of closing this place down. Enjoy yourself.”

  “I will.” She grinned. Rose Kingsbrier didn’t chase anyone. Certainly not a man who left her questioning his intentions.

  They turned away in unison.

  Frustrated by the loud noises coming from the mansion’s lower level, Rose pulled the ties of a silver, knee-length robe around her waist, cinching them so tight that she had to keep her gut sucked in to stop it from binding. Wisps escaped from the ratty bun she’d slept with her hair pulled into. She touched her forehead, willing the pounding inside her skull to stop. She wasn’t hung-over, but she should’ve quit drinking long before she did. The heat at The Grille last night added an extra layer of dehydration and exhaustion.

  Rose opened the door, stepping barefoot onto the plush hall runner. She wasn’t surprised in the least to see Lily Anne’s door ajar, but the crash echoing up the stairs from beyond the grand foyer made Rose jump.

  She regained her composure when the door of Eric’s study opened. Rose set her jaw and groaned. On a Monday Eric should have left for Houston already. By her own standards, she’d done a marvelous job avoiding her father since the mess at the country club days ago. With any luck, he’d limit his chastising to a reproachful shake of his head, allowing Rose to continue to ignore her father’s rolling introductions to potential sons-in-law. It was anyone’s guess how miserable the next candidate would act. Except it was a balancing act and Rose hadn’t been on her best behavior.

  Rose considered asking Lily Anne for lessons on how to channel her inner grace. She’d learn to act diplomatic and austere. And if that didn’t work? Rose would find ways to turn men off by being downright stuffy and prudish.

  It seemed like loads less trouble for Rose to act like herself.

  She bit her lip, wondering how long it would take for this fiasco to play out. If Eric held onto Rose like the riders gripped the reins at the fairgrounds, how long would it take for him to break Rose? Would he beat the clock? And when those seconds were up, would her father go so far as to lie to Rose about how much she meant to him before selling her off to a man whose father amassed a wealth comparable to the Kingsbrier’s?

  Eric walked out of his office, a jovial conversation emanating between himself and someone leaving the room after him.

  “Bring me those final plans that need a signature. As I said before, the architect and I discussed them at length and there are matters that needed addressing. Nothing that stops the project at this stage.”

  Eric winced at the sound of glass shattering as someone threw tiles into a garbage bin down below. As his shoulders returned from the height of his ears to their normal position, he found himself regarding his daughter at the entrance to the hallway.

  “Good morning, darling.”

  Eric never dropped a “g”, mentioning to her long ago that it was one thing to have a southern accent, but the judgmental sneers of Yankees when mispronouncing a word was something he despised. He’d made her take elocution lessons as a child. She hated them.

  “I trust you slept well and the noise didn’t wake you?” He looked at his gold Piaget. It was a warning. Her father was adamant that he didn’t want her working by his side, yet he couldn’t stand laziness. His restrained tone continued, directing her activities. “Before returning to your room to get ready for the day I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Cavanaugh. Cavanaugh Construction’s workers are downstairs dismantling the kitchen. They will be here for several weeks until the remodel is complete.”

  He’d never lower himself in mixed company to say as much, but her father’s intent was clear. Rose needed to get with the program and make sure she wasn’t seen in her nightclothes by a bunch of old geezers with plumber’s crack.

  Rose took a few steps forward. “I didn’t realize that was today—” she began, holding out her hand. It stopped mid-rise and she folded it back to the side of her body. Intent green eyes stared back at her. Rose opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water.

  Ross.

  He’d left Rose standing there in the bar, making her feel foolish for the time she’d wasted becoming enamored of him. Rose hadn’t thought she’d see him again. As a matter of fact, instead of getting her riled up, his callous disappearing act allowed Rose forget Ross. Willing dance partners came out of the woodwork, keeping her card filled for the remainder of the evening. It was only in those dark and fleeting moments still considered night that Rose’s mind sought Ross out as she fell asleep. The encounter with him seeming more ethereal than real.

  “Miss Kingsbrier.” Ross’s head bowed down the same way it had when he’d acknowledged her from the ring.

  Rose’s toes curled and her stomach flip-flopped like a teenage girl asked for her first kiss. She shook hands with him quickly, trying to avoid any familiar jolt of electricity. Her fingers flew back to her mess of hair, tucking a strand behind her ear.

  Rose’s father began talking again.

  Taking advantage of Mr. Kingsbrier’s distraction while speaking to his daughter, Ross smirked at Rose making her incredulous. The wide-eyed look on her face, that Ross had to assume she directed toward him and not the diatribe that she was being force-fed, gave Eric Kingsbrier pause and he turned to regard Ross.

  Now was the best time to make a swift exit.

  “If you’ll excuse me. I do need to get back to see how the crew is making out. I’ll get those renderings for your approval before moving onto the next phase, sir. I appreciate your time this morning.” Ross indicated a sealed envelope held in his other hand. No doubt the deposit on the work Cavanaugh Construction was doing.

  While the two men exchanged cordial goodbyes. Rose stayed silent, pretending not to exist. Eric returned to his desk. She watched Ross Cavanaugh descend the stairs and, without drawing too much attention to her actions, leaned over the railing to ensure that he was out of earshot. Then like an arrow, she launched herself into Eric’s office.

  “Why did Cavanaugh send his son to deal with you, Daddy?” She tried to sound as if she’d remembered that the kitchen remodel had made it onto his busy calendar. It needed an overhaul for quite some time, but only recently had Eric acknowledged as much. It was Benita’s job to keep her father fed. One had to wonder if Mr. Kingsbrier knew there was an actual room in the mansion where the housekeeper cooked food.

  “Rose, that is Cavanaugh.”

  “But he—” There’s no way.

  “Came highly recommended. And, on the off-chance that the work turned out is sub-par, I won’t pay his price.”

  The King of Negotiations kept speaking, but Rose stopped tracking. That last comment had her seeing red. For what reason, she wasn’t sure. Rose came to expect quality as well. If Cavanaugh was good enough to catch Eric’s attention, they provided a high-caliber product, so Ross should be paid.

  “Benita b
aked some delicious muffins for breakfast in the summer kitchen oven. They’re on the buffet in the formal dining room. Please don’t eat around the help,” he said, referring to the construction crew. “It’s one thing for her to provide them with coffee or water, but she shouldn’t be responsible for feeding all these men like the summer kitchen is a cafeteria truck. It’s task enough to ask her to keep up with the demands of our meals with limited resources. I will be dining out most nights until the kitchen is complete and suggest that you do the same.”

  “At the club?” Distracted by her thoughts, Rose bit down hard on her tongue when she realized she set herself up.

  Conflicting emotions were the worst. In a matter of a few minutes, she’d gone from annoyed to startled, onto blushing girl trying to figure out why the rouge dream man was in her home. Did Ross know who she was all that time? Was he using her to get on her father’s good side?

  “Yes, at the club, on my way home from Houston. I will let you know in advance if your presence is required. At this point, I believe it’s better that you avoid spending time there. Your most recent behavior in the ballroom was inappropriate.”

  Eric didn’t even have the decency to raise his voice like other fathers. His tone lay flat and dull, disinterested in his daughter’s excuses. Although, that never stopped her from speaking back.

  “I told you that I wasn’t interested in having dinner with your associates. What do you want from me? This is a charade. Parading me in front of these oafs and expecting me—”

  “To behave with a modicum of decorum the way that Lily Anne does? I’d like to see you settled, Rose, into a nice life that becomes you. Some grandchildren would be warranted…”

  “You wanted me to have babies with that man’s son? They’d be the stupidest children ever! And considering the way he acted it wouldn’t surprise me none if he was off spending his seed. Is that the life you really want for me, Daddy? To be sitting home at night in a big empty house wondering what other women my husband is taking to bed? Is that the secret to a long and happy marriage? If that’s the case, we should make sure it’s part of the prenup that you get your cash back when I die of embarrassment. It’s bound to happen! Tell me, did Momma have it written into your contract that love was optional and she’d let you fool around? Or was my mother still young and attractive enough when she died that you hadn’t yet stepped out?”