Her Secret Texas Valentine

by Helen Lacey

  The older man gave a flirtatious laugh. “Ha...nothing is too good for my friend Jake. I shall leave you the wine list and come back soon.”

  Once Serge left, Valene stared at Jake, brows up questioningly. “So...how?”

  “How what?”

  “How did you get to be on a first-name basis with the owner of one of the most popular restaurants in the city?”

  Jake perused the wine list for a second and then met her inquiring gaze. “I told you I work on a ranch. It supplies the beef for the restaurant. Serge is simply a satisfied customer. Good beef equals the good table.”

  Her mouth curled at the edges. “You’re full of surprises.”

  Yeah, he thought, to a woman like Valene Fortunado, it would seem like that.

  And then he wondered how she’d react if he told her that the beef the Double Rock Ranch supplied to the restaurant actually belonged to him. Because everything on the ranch—the house, the stables, the cattle, the horses—was his, and had been since he’d bought the place eight years earlier.

  Chapter Three

  Yes...he is as gorgeous as I remember.

  Valene couldn’t think of anything else as she watched him look over the wine list. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen eyes his color before. They were an old movie-star blue—deep and glittering and framed by the most unfairly long lashes she’d ever seen on a man. And he smelled so good—not some fancy and expensively overpowering and cloying cologne, but a woodsy, totally masculine scent that was wreaking havoc on her dormant libido.

  Sex...

  How long had it been since she’d thought about sex in any real terms? A long time. Even when she was with Hugh, their relationship had been so lukewarm she rarely gave intimacy a thought. But right now, sitting opposite Jake, admiring his broad shoulders and bedroom eyes, she was suddenly thinking about it. Big-time.

  “Do you have a wine preference?” he asked, looking at her over the list.

  She shrugged lightly. “I prefer white.”

  He nodded, and within seconds Serge returned and Jake ordered a vintage from the Mendoza Winery. She wondered if he knew of her connection with the family and then figured it didn’t matter. He could easily find out her background by going online. She had several social media accounts and often posted frivolous things about food and clothes and the latest pair of must-have shoes she’d purchased. It certainly wouldn’t be difficult to trace her family tree and figure out she came from the Fortune family. A very rich family. Maddie’s warning suddenly pealed inside her head. Don’t go too fast. Don’t trust too easily.

  A waitress arrived and handed them a couple of menus. Valene was looking over the selection when he spoke.

  “Everything okay, Valene?”

  She looked up and nodded. “Fine. So, what’s good here?”

  “The beef,” he replied and grinned. “Although I may be a little biased.”

  Valene chose the ravioli and pursed her lips. “I shall take you to task if it’s inferior to my palate.”

  He chuckled at her playful banter. “I look forward to it.”

  The waitress returned with the wine and to take their order, and once they were alone, Valene spoke again. “So, Jake, have you ever had your heart broken?”

  His gaze narrowed fractionally. “Yes. You?”

  “Sort of.”

  He gave her a quizzical look. “Sort of?”

  She shrugged. “Not broken...just cracked a little. It turned out my first boyfriend, Diego, was more interested in courting my father than me.”

  He sat back. “Well, I can assure you that your father isn’t my type.”

  Valene laughed. He had a lovely sense of humor and she was discovering that she liked that quality very much. “I’ll have you know that my dad is very charming.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “And he’s a good judge of character,” she added and sipped her wine. “He saw through Diego long before I did.”

  “It’s good he’s there to watch out for you.”

  “Or smother me,” she said and sighed. “My parents can be a little...overprotective.”

  “You’re their youngest child, correct?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Natural then,” he said quietly, “that they would want to protect you from jerks and gold diggers.”

  “I suppose,” she said and sighed. “And I shouldn’t complain about being loved so much, I know. Tell me about your parents.”

  He shrugged loosely. “Not much to tell. My parents had a happy marriage. My mom never found anyone else after my father died.”

  “He was the love of her life?” Val suggested, thinking how wonderful it would be to feel such devotion for someone.

  “I guess he was. She works three days a week at the local elementary school and has a small circle of friends. She’s happy enough, I suppose. What about your mom?” he asked, turning the conversation back to her.

  “My mother’s name is Barbara. She and my dad love one another like crazy. She works in a charity organization that helps women and children. I’ve always envied the way she can do that.”

  “Do what?” he inquired.

  Val pressed her lips together for a moment. “Help people unselfishly. Without an agenda. She was never overly ambitious for a career—I guess my dad made up for that. But she always seems to be the best version of herself. Maybe doing things for other people makes a person their authentic best.”

  “I’m sure it does,” Jake said evenly. “But I think when we’re young, most of us are wrapped up in ourselves. It’s not a character flaw...just part of growing up. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Valene, I’m sure you do more for others than you realize.”

  Val stared at him. There was something about the rich timbre of his voice that soothed her. It also occurred to her that he wasn’t the roughneck that men who worked the land were often assumed to be.

  “You know, you’re very...nice,” she said and drank some wine. “You said you’d had your heart broken. Will you tell me about it?”

  His gaze didn’t waver. “There’s not much to tell. We went to high school together but weren’t in the same crowd. A few years after school we met up again. I loved her. I thought she loved me in return. I was mistaken. We split up.”

  Val knew there had to be more to the story, but she wasn’t going to pry any deeper. They barely knew one another, and she had to respect his privacy. If he wanted to say more about it, he would.

  Their meals arrived, and for the following hour, Valene was entertained by Jake’s quiet humor and easy conversation. They talked about movies and music; he entertained her with stories about working on the ranch and she did the same with tales of selling houses and dealing with clients. She told him about Maddie and Zach’s rivalry and how they fell in love. She talked about Schuyler’s whirlwind romance with one of the Mendozas, and he didn’t flinch at the mention of anyone’s name. If he knew of her connection to the Mendozas or the Fortunes, he had a great poker face.

  “Do you enjoy selling houses?” he asked once their plates had been cleared away and she was perusing the dessert menu.

  Valene nodded. “Yes. But I travel a lot between Houston and Austin at the moment and the hours can be long. Not as long as yours, I imagine, from sunrise to sunset. But I often work weekends doing open houses or catching up on paperwork. In fact, I’m working tomorrow morning for a few hours.”

  “What’s your favorite part of your job?”

  She let out a long breath. “My favorite part is when I show someone a house and they have that ‘this is the one’ look on their face. The funny thing is, sometimes the house they finally choose is nothing like what they were originally looking for.”

  “I imagine it’s a competitive industry.”

  “Fiercely,” she replied. “Even among peo
ple working in the same office. Landing an exclusive listing is so important but often difficult in today’s climate. Different agents offer different incentives, but I try not to get wrapped up in the theatrics. I simply match up my listing and prospective buyers the best I can. I mean, buying property is a considered purchase, not something people do on a whim. So I get to know the clients as real people. Their history, their family, their dreams. Buying a home is usually the biggest financial commitment someone will make in their lifetime, so I try to make the experience as stress-free as possible.”

  As she spoke, she longed to feel a surge of passion for what she did. Val liked her job. But she didn’t love it. She enjoyed working in the family business and strove to be the best she could be. She wasn’t as ambitious as Maddie and had little interest in climbing the corporate ladder or being in charge, but the selling, the brokering of deals, the influence she had when she clinched a sale, were challenging and had their rewards.

  “I imagine you’re very good at getting people to trust you,” he remarked, sipping his wine.

  Val smiled. “I’d like to think so. And you’re right, my clients, both buyers and sellers, put a lot of trust in my hands. So I’m always up front about what the home is worth, how it presents, how it feels. And I believe they appreciate that. Honesty is the key.”

  His blue eyes glittered brilliantly. “You’re right. And since we’re on the subject of honesty, I should come clean and tell you that I never order dessert.”

  Val smiled. “Well, I don’t see how this is ever going to work, then.”

  There was something hypnotic about his gaze, and she couldn’t have dragged her eyes away from his even if she’d wanted to. With every look, every word, Valene felt herself getting dragged further into his vortex.

  “You can order dessert if you want,” he told her. “I hear the cheesecake is good.”

  She shook her head. “I like my sweets in the morning. There’s this place down the road from my office, the Moon Beam Bakery, that does the most amazing blueberry and cream cheese bagels.” She moaned her delight.

  “So, then, instead of dessert, would you like to go dancing?” he asked.

  Oh, God, he danced, too.

  The man was perfect. Well, except for every other way that he wasn’t. The clothes, although neat and well fitted, were cowboy garb, and of course there was his beat-up truck and the fact he was a ranch hand. But still...he really was incredibly attractive. And smart. And funny.

  She nodded. “I would.”

  “Let’s go.”

  He signaled the waitress, paid the check with a credit card and said a quick farewell to Serge before helping her into her coat. It was chilly outside, and she pulled up the collar around her neck.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk.

  “Just down the block,” he replied. “Are you happy to walk or would you prefer we drive?”

  She looked down at her pointy shoes and nodded, thinking that Maddie would blow a gasket if she agreed to get into a car with a man she barely knew. But Valene didn’t feel as though she was in any danger with Jake. There was something unwaveringly trustworthy about him. He possessed an aura of enviable integrity, as though it was ingrained within his DNA.

  Still, it was such a short distance, she opted to walk.

  He grasped her elbow, and even through the woolen coat, she could feel the heat coming off his skin. They walked down the block and then across the road, passing several couples along the way before they reached their destination. She’d been anticipating the fashionable jazz club a few doors down from where they stood. But no. This wasn’t the jazz place.

  Valene came to an abrupt halt once she heard the music emanating from the very country, very cowboy bar and grill. Of course, she’d passed the place many times, but she had never ventured through the doors of the Red Elk. It was honky-tonk style, with a bar and booth seats and a dance floor toward the back. The place was surprisingly subdued and nowhere near as rowdy and noisy as she’d imagined.

  “Ah... I don’t really know how to dance to cowboy songs,” she said as he ushered her through the doorway and toward a table near the dance floor.

  He was smiling. “It’s easy,” he replied and took her coat, hanging it over the back of a chair. “You just hold on and sway.”

  Val wasn’t convinced. There were a few other couples on the dance floor, and the song changed just as Jake took her hand. Electricity rushed up her arm and she was sure her cheeks spotted with color. And then like magic, she was in his arms. He didn’t grope her, didn’t do anything other than hold her one hand and then place his other respectfully at her waist. Val reached up and placed her hand on his shoulder and then followed his lead. Of course, he knew what he was doing, and slow dancing clearly came to him as easily as breathing. And the song, a romantic Brett Young number, was exactly the right kind of melody for the mood she was in.

  He might be a penniless cowboy, but Jake Brockton knew how to dance. In fact, she was pretty sure he was one of those men who mastered everything he did. And then, of course, she knew he’d be a spectacular kisser. Which was why she looked up, her lips parted slightly as she met his gaze, her eyes clearly betraying her.

  Because what she wanted in that moment, more than anything, was his mouth on hers, and she was absolutely certain that he knew it!

  Jake had never in his life wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss Valene Fortunado. Of course, he wouldn’t. But he was tempted. It didn’t help that her slumberous chocolate-brown eyes were regarding him with seductive invitation. Or that every time she moved, her lovely curves brushed against him.

  But it was too soon.

  He liked her. He liked her a lot. More than he’d been prepared for when he’d asked her out to dinner. Or suggested they go dancing. But Jake wasn’t a hasty man. And even though Valene was delightful and beautiful, he had to show some sense and some self-control.

  “See,” he said easily, ignoring the way his heart was beating, “you can dance to a cowboy song.”

  She smiled. “I’m just swaying.”

  “That’s all you gotta do, sweetheart.”

  She smiled again, and the expression reached him way down low. It had been forever since he’d danced with a woman, and he’d forgotten how much he liked it. There was something intoxicating about the way they moved together, and he suspected she felt it, too. Valene was unashamedly honest and the knowledge caused a jolt of shame to slice between his shoulder blades. He needed to come clean, to tell her the truth about himself. But his resistance lingered. He’d already had one woman rip his heart out—he wasn’t ready to allow someone else in to do the same. Not just yet.

  And he didn’t want to ruin the mood or change the dynamic of the evening. He liked that she hadn’t made a big deal about his life or occupation. He liked that she hadn’t balked outside the honky-tonk and refused to go inside, even though he was sure she’d never set foot in a place like it before. She had gumption and spine and was a strong, independent woman, probably stronger than she knew.

  They danced for a while, all slow numbers that suited him and the mood that had developed between them. When the music finally changed to an upbeat number, he took her hand and led her back to their table.

  “There are peanut shells on the floor,” she remarked when he returned with a drink for them both, light beer for him and bottled water for her.

  “It’s a cowboy bar,” he said and smiled. “Goes with the territory.”

  “Until someone slips on a shell and then sues the proprietor.”

  Jake watched her over the rim of his glass. “That wouldn’t happen.”

  “Cowboy code, huh?” she suggested, brows up a little.

  “I guess you could call it that. You know, we’re not so different from you city folk. We eat, dance, make love...do all the things that the urban
dwellers do.”

  She smiled so sexily he had to shift in his seat. Damn, she was hot.

  “That’s reassuring,” she said quietly and unscrewed the lid off her drink. “We’ve mastered two out of three.”

  She was flirting. Unabashedly and provocatively. And Jake was so turned on he could have hauled her into his arms and kissed her without hesitation.

  “You’re very beautiful, Valene,” he said quietly. “Probably more than you know. But I’m not going to rush into anything, okay?”

  He felt like a conceited fool for saying it...but he wanted the air clear between them. He didn’t want her thinking he was some randy cowboy who simply wanted to get laid and have a little fun. Well, of course he wanted to have fun, and he wanted to get laid...but he also wanted to get to know her. The real Valene Fortunado. Not just the sweet, if somewhat spoiled, party-girl image she had on social media. He’d checked her out, of course, having no choice once he’d told Cassidy who she was. His sister had brought up page after page of highlights from Valene’s life and lifestyle and forced Jake to take a look.

  He wondered if she’d done the same. He didn’t have any personal social media accounts, but if she dug a little deeper, she’d find him easily enough, through articles and interviews and local business affiliations. Valene was a smart and resourceful woman, and it occurred to Jake that she might know exactly who he was, and all about his portfolio and net worth. It unnerved him a little, since she’d bleated on about honesty and transparency. But he didn’t think she was underhanded. On the other hand, he hadn’t believed Patrice was a liar or a cheat, either—until his life and marriage spectacularly blew up in his face.

  “Okay,” she said softly. “To be honest, Jake, I’m not the rushing type. I don’t jump into bed with every man I meet.”

  He knew that, of course. There was a sweetness and an innocence about Valene that simmered underneath the surface. And she was young, just twenty-four. Plus, she’d clearly been protected and watched over all her life. He was glad about that, hating to think that she’d ever suffered adversity or real heartbreak.