Читать книгу The Ultimate Texas Bachelor - Cathy Gillen Thacker - Страница 8

“Come on, Lainey. Have a heart! You can’t leave us like this!” Lewis McCabe declared as he pushed his eyeglasses farther up on the bridge of his nose.

Aside from the fact she was here under false pretenses—which she had quickly decided she couldn’t go through with, anyway—Lainey Carrington didn’t see how she could stay, either. The Lazy M ranch house looked like a college dorm room had exploded on moving day. Lewis needed a lot more than the live-in housekeeper he had been advertising for, to bring order to this mess.

Lainey studied the nerdiest—and most technologically brilliant—of Sam and Kate McCabe’s five grown sons and wondered how anyone so rich could still be so out of step with popular culture. Where had he gotten those clothes, anyway? From some 1980s-style shop?

“What do you mean us?” she asked suspiciously. Was Lewis married? If so, she hadn’t heard about it, but then her knowledge was spotty at best since she hadn’t actually lived in Laramie, Texas, since she left home for college ten years ago.

The door behind Lainey opened. She turned—and darn near fainted at the sight of the man she had secretly come here to track down.

Not that she had expected the six-foot-three cowboy, with the ruggedly handsome face and to-die-for body to actually be here. She had just hoped that Lewis would give her a clue where to look, so that she might help her friend Sybil Devine hunt the elusive Brad McCabe down and scrutinize the sexy Casanova celebrity in person.

“Brad, of course, who happens to be my business partner,” Lewis McCabe explained.

“Actually, I’m more of a ranch manager,” Brad McCabe corrected grimly, shooting an aggravated look at his younger brother. He knocked some of the mud off his scuffed, brown leather boots, then stepped into the interior of the sprawling half-century-old ranch house. “And I thought we had an agreement, Lewis, that you’d let me know when we were going to have company so I could avoid running into ’em.”

Lewis shot Lainey an apologetic glance. “Don’t mind him. He’s been in a bad mood ever since he got done filming that reality TV show.”

Lainey took the opportunity to gather a little background research. “Guess that didn’t exactly have the happily-ever-after ending everyone expected it to have,” she observed.

Brad’s jaw set. Clearly, he did not want her sympathy. “You saw it?”

Obviously he wished she hadn’t. Lainey shrugged, not about to admit just how riveted she’d been by the sight of Brad McCabe on her television screen. “I think everyone who knows you did.”

“Not to mention most of America,” Lewis chimed in.

Bachelor Bliss had pulled in very high ratings, especially at the end, when it had taken an unexpected twist. Which wasn’t surprising, given how sexy Brad had looked walking out of the ocean in a pair of swim trunks that had left very little to the imagination. He’d been equally appealing on the back of a horse, riding into the mountains at sunset, or dressed in a tuxedo while enjoying a night on the town.

The only thing she hadn’t liked was the sight of him kissing one pretty woman after another…and he had done an awful lot of that.

“You shouldn’t have wasted your time watching such bull,” Brad muttered, his scowl deepening as his voice dropped a self-deprecating notch. “And I know I shouldn’t have wasted mine filming it.”

Lainey agreed with him wholeheartedly there. Going on an artificially romantic TV show was no way to find a mate. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think they did right by you,” Lainey said.

Brad’s brow arched as if he dared her to go on.

Lainey gulped but held her ground. “The way they depicted you was not very flattering,” she continued bravely, knowing that if she was going to convince him to open up to her, he was first going to have to realize she did indeed believe he had gotten a raw deal. And more importantly, that she wanted him to be able to tell his side of things. Which, to date, he had not done.

“Gee.” His gaze clashed with hers. “You think?”

“I agree,” Lewis put in genially, seeming not to notice the sparks arcing between Brad and Lainey. “Those producers did make you look like a womanizing jerk with the attention span of a flea.”

Brad folded his arms over his chest, frustration coming off him in waves. “Maybe I am a womanizing jerk with the attention span of a flea,” he said.

Somehow, Lainey didn’t think so. For one thing, the McCabes—who were known for their honesty and integrity—would never have let him get away with that in real life. She knew he’d tried it as a kid, shortly after his family moved to Laramie, Texas, and had gotten reined in quickly, both by family and by the girls he had triple-timed. And for another thing, Brad had not appeared to be enjoying himself on the TV show as he tried to decide which of fifteen eligible women to take as his bride. Instead, he had seemed…impatient with the entire process. Restless. Except when with Yvonne Rathbone, the flame-haired beauty he had eventually paired up with. Then, he had seemed genuinely lovestruck. Until the end, anyway.

“And maybe you’re not,” Lainey countered calmly.

Not that her opinion was widely shared. Thanks to the brouhaha that had followed the finale of the eight Bachelor Bliss episodes featuring Brad McCabe, he had been a fixture in gossip columns and celebrity magazines. Everyone wanted to know why Brad had done what he had, but Brad wasn’t talking—at least not to the press.

And thus far, those close to him weren’t talking, either.

It was Lainey’s task to see what she could do about changing that, and letting the whole truth and nothing but the truth finally be known. Not that it looked to be easy.

She had heard from mutual acquaintances that Brad McCabe’s experience as the sought-after bachelor on Bachelor Bliss had turned him not just into persona non grata where the entire viewing public was concerned, but also into a hardened cynic. Judging by the scowl on his face and the unwelcoming light in his eyes as he swept off his straw cowboy hat and ran his fingers through his gleaming dark brown hair, that assumption seemed to be true.

The Brad McCabe that Lainey recalled from her youth had been two years ahead of her in school, cheerful and charming as could be. He had been more city kid than cowboy back then. Full of charm and life, always ready with a wink and a smile and a witty remark.

Now, he appeared ready to bite her head off. His brother’s, too, as Brad surveyed them both with shadowed, sable-brown eyes.

Lainey swallowed hard and tried not to notice how nicely the blue chambray shirt hugged his broad shoulders and molded to the sculpted muscles of his chest, before disappearing beneath the waistband of his worn, dark blue denim jeans.

“Not that I expected to see you out here, in any case,” Lainey continued truthfully, forcing her eyes away from his rodeo belt buckle and gazing back up at his face. “Since word is you’ve been hiding out from just about everyone.”

“I’m not hiding.” Brad looked ready to kick some Texas butt. Hers, specifically. “I’m getting on with my life. And there are plenty of people in Laramie who know exactly where to find me.”

Lainey shrugged as another shimmer of awareness sifted through her, weakening her knees. “The press can’t seem to locate you.”

“And that’s exactly the way it’s going to stay,” Brad enunciated clearly, looking deep into her eyes. “I have nothing to say to them.”

Which was a problem as far as Lainey was concerned, as she was currently trying to fulfill her long-held dream of becoming a reporter.

“Brad figures too much has been said about him as it is,” Lewis confided to Lainey. Lewis tried to adapt some of his older brother’s inherent cool as he slouched against a low wall of moving boxes, but instead he knocked several over. They tumbled to the scuffed wooden floor with a clatter. Lewis scrambled to pick them up while Brad, shaking his head in silent exasperation, leaned forward lazily to lend a hand. “The past is over,” Lewis continued. “He’s looking toward the future. Which is why he agreed to start up this ranch with me—”

“You have to pay in half to be a partner,” Brad interrupted, looking irritated again. “I haven’t done that. Therefore I’m the ranch manager.” Brad turned back to Lainey. He looked her up and down suspiciously, from the top of her carefully coiffed chin-length blond hair, to her casual suede slides. “And you are…?”

It shouldn’t have surprised Lainey Carrington that Brad McCabe didn’t recognize her. Brad was two years older than she was. It had been a good ten years since they had run into each other in the halls of Laramie High School. And she hadn’t been back to Laramie much in the last couple of years since her parents died.

She touched the strand of pearls around her neck. Wishing for some odd reason that she was wearing something other than the demure, pale blue sweater set and knee-length khaki skirt, she smiled. “I’m Lainey Carrington.”

To Lainey’s frustration, Brad still had no clue.

“When I was in high school I was known as Lainey Wilson,” Lainey explained. “Greta Wilson McCabe, who runs the Lone Star Dance Hall—”

“Our aunt by marriage.” Lewis beamed.

“Right.” Lainey nodded. “Well, Greta’s my cousin.”

“Lainey was one of the princesses on the Homecoming Court, when she was a senior and I was a freshman,” Lewis explained. “I remember because the dress you wore for the parade…”

Had caused quite a scandal. Lainey felt herself flush bright pink.

Brad looked at Lewis and lifted a brow, waiting for him to finish.

Lewis started stammering and staring at the toes of his Birkenstock sandals. Obviously, he wished he had never started the story.

Figuring she might as well own up to it—Brad McCabe was going to hear all about it later anyway—Lainey put in dryly, “Suffice it to say, the dress I chose for the festivities was a little too ‘adult’ for the occasion.” She had picked it up at a secondhand shop in nearby San Angelo that was run by the Junior League. The black velvet dress had been beautiful, no doubt about it, and at ten dollars, quite a steal. But the plunging neckline, short clinging skirt and five-inch stiletto heels had been more suited for a sophisticated cocktail party than a high-school football game.

Lainey had known this, of course, even as she had accepted a dare from her friends to wear it. She had worked to disguise the deep V neckline, front and back, with an embroidered white-and-black silky evening wrap that she had worn with movie-star grandeur. Until a strong gust of Texas wind had ripped it off her shoulders and under the wheels of the junior-class float behind her.

And there she had been, her décolletage exposed nearly to the waist for all the world to see. A terribly embarrassed Lainey had had no choice but to finish the parade, sans wrap. When the floats had reached the stadium, the entire Homecoming Court had been whisked off the backs of their borrowed convertibles and onto the football field for the crowning ceremony during the pre-game festivities. The principal, seeing Lainey being walked across the field by a gawking football player, had been apoplectic, as had many of the other parents, at the amount of cleavage exposed. Lainey’s equally ostentatiously dressed mother was the only one who hadn’t thought it a big deal.

“You got suspended for violating the school dress code, didn’t you?” Lewis asked.

Lainey nodded, her humiliation complete. She hadn’t thought about any of this since Chip Carrington had taken her under his wing and made sure she knew what suitable attire was. Ten years had passed and she’d never worn anything the slightest bit risqué since.

Brad threaded his way through the boxes and furniture stacked here and there, and made his way into the kitchen. He pulled a soda can out of the refrigerator, seemed to think about offering one to Lainey, then didn’t. Probably, she figured, because he didn’t want to give her an excuse to linger.

She watched as he popped the top.

Wordlessly, Lewis walked over to the fridge and got out two cans of blackberry-flavored soda. Lewis brought one back to Lainey, still talking to Brad over his shoulder. “The reason you probably don’t recall any of this is that you had already graduated from Laramie High School two years before, and gone on to…well…”

“Flunk out of college,” Brad said, finishing yet another sentence Lewis never should have started.

Visibly embarrassed, Lewis pushed his glasses up on his nose again. He shoved a hand through his spiky, light brown hair. “Yeah. Guess you two have that in common, since you both were always in trouble back then.”

Only because she hadn’t had the guidance she needed, Lainey thought resentfully. “Well, not anymore,” she said firmly. “I have an eight-year-old son now.” She was a pillar of the community in the Highland Park area of Dallas. Or at least she had been, until she had agreed to drive out to the Lazy M Ranch, to see what she could find out for her friend, Sybil.

Brad and Lewis both glanced at her left hand, checking out the wedding and engagement rings she had recently stopped wearing. “I lost my husband, Chip Carrington, two years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Lewis said.

Lainey nodded, even as she noticed the flash of sympathy in Brad’s eyes that disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“That why you’re looking for a job as a housekeeper?” Brad asked with a look of utter male supremacy.

Lainey didn’t even want to consider what her blue-blooded in-laws, Bunny and Bart Carrington, would think about her taking a position as a domestic. Financially, she didn’t need to, thanks to Chip’s trust fund. Emotionally, intellectually…well, that was something else. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on living a life that didn’t even feel like her own. There were too many hours in a day, not nearly enough for her to do—and with her son, Petey, needing her less and less… Not that loneliness and boredom were any excuse for what Sybil had asked her to do, or offered in return, Lainey chided herself. Even if such action was the gateway to the career she had always yearned for and had never had the opportunity to go for. At least not yet.

Aware Brad was waiting for her answer, she said, “I’m not here to apply for a job.”

Suspicion hardened the ruggedly handsome features on Brad’s face. “Then what are you doing all the way out here?”

Sybil had been right—this man had turned into quite a handful. “I was on my way back from Laramie and heard Lewis had bought a ranch out here. So I thought I would stop by and say hello.”

“And yet you two were never friends,” Brad stated suspiciously.

Lewis glowered at Brad, then turned back to Lainey. “I’m glad you stopped by and I’d be even happier if you’d agree to help me out here. Forget him.” Lewis indicated Brad with a telling glare.

Brad stepped between Lainey and Lewis. He gave Lainey a slow, deliberate once-over that had Lainey’s pulse racing before addressing Lewis again. “I’m merely pointing out I think it’s mighty peculiar that Lainey here stopped by out of the blue. After what? Some ten years or so?”

“What are you insinuating?” Lainey asked coolly, her soda halfway to her mouth, not sure whether she was angrier with Brad or herself for getting into this predicament. Surely there was an easier story she could have started with to jump-start her career!

Brad flashed her a crocodile smile that didn’t begin to reach his battle-hardened eyes. “That Lewis is not what you are in search of.”

BRAD HAD BEEN HOPING—in direct contradiction to the knot in his gut—that Lainey Carrington’s sudden appearance at the Lazy M had been innocent in nature. The look on her face, when he voiced his suspicion, told him it was anything but.

Yet another female he couldn’t trust.

Why did that surprise him?

Was it her angelic beauty that had him wanting to believe he could trust her? Her fair, perfect skin and the ripe peach hue blushing across her high, elegant cheeks? The silky cap of neatly arranged honey-blond hair around her oval face? The straightness of her pert, slender nose and the determined set of her feminine chin? Or was it the enticing curve of her bow-shaped lips and the warmth in her long-lashed, forest green eyes? Brad couldn’t say for sure what it was that attracted him to her so fiercely. All he knew was that he had been around beautiful women all his life and been chased by more than he could count, but none had stopped him dead in his tracks the way Lainey Wilson Carrington had. None had made his heart stall in his chest, to the point he felt frozen in time. Like this moment was something he would always remember.

Which was maybe why he should continue giving her a hard time. To keep the walls up and prevent himself from succumbing to such cornball sentiment. Brad gave her his kick-butt glare. “I’m still waiting for that explanation.”

“Maybe you should back off,” Lewis said, looking ready to rumble for the first time Brad could remember. That didn’t surprise Brad—something about Lainey, some inherent sense of vulnerability, had brought out the knight in him, too, before he had come to his senses.

Lainey turned to Lewis with a reassuring smile. “I don’t mind explaining what brought me here.” She drew a breath and turned back to Brad. “I stopped by because I wanted to talk to Lewis about the computer-software video games his company puts out. I heard some of the companies used kids to focus-test new products before they are actually marketed and that Lewis had built a new facility in Laramie for his company, McCabe Computer Games. I wanted to know if it would be possible to have my eight-year-old son, Petey, participate in a trial of a new computer game. I thought it might be a fun thing for him to do this summer while school is out. But when I arrived and saw the chaos, and realized Lewis was in the process of interviewing household managers, I knew that it wasn’t a good time to be stopping by after all.”

Brad’s gut told him that as truthful as Lainey was obviously trying to be, she was also leaving out some mighty important parts. The deliberate omissions were what concerned him most. “And you have no interest whatsoever in me,” Brad surmised.

The color on her cheeks deepened self-consciously, even as her chin lifted a challenging notch. “Why on earth would I be interested in you?”

Brad answered her with a lazy shrug. “The same reason everyone else in America is. Because I am the villain du jour.”

Lewis added, “You wouldn’t believe how many people—folks the family hasn’t heard from in years—have called up, wanting the inside scoop on what happened with Brad on that TV show.”

Lainey flushed and didn’t meet Brad’s probing gaze. Another sign, Brad thought, that she was nosy as charged.

Lainey defended herself with an indignant toss of her head. “Believe me, I had no idea you were out here, Brad McCabe. Never mind in such a cantankerous mood!”

Not one to take an insult lying down, Brad narrowed his eyes at her. “What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

Lainey glared at him, sipped her drink, and didn’t reply.

“I think that’s pretty clear.” Lewis stepped between Brad and Lainey. “She’s telling you that you’re rude.”

Brad wasn’t about to apologize for that, darn it all. “I don’t want company,” he announced bluntly. Hers or anyone else’s.”

Lewis arched his brow. “Fine by me. Then leave. ’Cause I want to talk Lainey into helping me out here.”

Lainey sighed and tore her gaze from Brad’s. “I told you, Lewis. I am not in the market for a job as a housekeeper. I need to be at home with my son this summer.”

Lewis was undaunted. “Your son could come to work with you. Test out new games here at the ranch and at my company’s new facility in Laramie. He’d have a blast!”

It was all Brad could do not to groan as Lainey hesitated, clearly tempted.

“I’m not asking for much. I just need help getting settled,” Lewis continued persuasively. “All of my stuff unpacked and organized, along with Brad’s.”

Lainey tilted her head. “Your moving company should have offered that service.”

“They said they’d unpack it for an extra fee,” Lewis explained. “They also wanted me to tell the workers where to put everything. I couldn’t do that because I don’t know where it goes. I don’t have time to think about stuff like that. Never mind figure out how to get a kitchen put together and all that.”

Lainey looked at Brad as if expecting him to help. “Don’t look at me,” he said gruffly. “I’ve got my hands full trying to get the stable, pastures and barns ready to go.”

Sighing, Lainey turned back to Lewis. “Don’t you have a girlfriend who could help you?”

Lewis flushed beet-red and shook his head.

“What about your little sister or your stepmom?” Lainey insisted.

“They both think he should be doing it himself, and they’re right,” Brad said. “It’s best to be self-sufficient.”

“Spoken like a die-hard bachelor,” she muttered just loud enough for them both to hear.

“The truth is,” Lewis said, “Laurel and Kate probably would help me out, but Brad doesn’t want them around right now. ’Cause they ask too many questions. You know…about how he’s feeling and stuff.”

Brad rubbed his jaw. “I think Lainey Carrington can do without the play-by-play.”

“Well, it’s the truth!” Lewis countered.

Brad’s temper flared. “Sometimes the truth does not need to be told!”

“Sounds like you have a pretty complicated situation,” Lainey told Lewis sympathetically.

“So will you help me out?” he asked eagerly. “I’ll give you one hundred dollars an hour to help me get organized. Because that’s what professional organizers charge. At a few weeks—let’s say three—that would be twelve thousand dollars, give or take. If you decide you want to cook for us, I’ll pay you for that, too.”

To Brad’s chagrin, Lainey seemed intrigued.

Lainey blinked. “What were you planning to pay a housekeeper?”

Lewis shrugged. “If she lived in, fifty thousand, with free room and board. Like I said, I’m planning to make the guest house into the housekeeper’s quarters.”

Lainey cast a look in the direction Lewis was pointing. Her soft lips pursed thoughtfully. “How much room does it have?”

It was all Brad could do not to groan out loud as his brilliant but clueless brother answered. “Eleven hundred square feet—a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, one and a half baths.”

“She already told you no,” Brad interjected, knowing the last thing he needed was a nosy female underfoot. Lewis would be gone all day. It was Brad who would be here at the ranch, dealing with Lainey one-on-one, running into her every time he turned around!

Lainey scowled at Brad. “Excuse me. I don’t believe either of us was talking to you.”

Brad closed the distance between them, not stopping until they were nose to nose. “Well, I am talking to you. And let’s be serious here.” He paused to let his gaze drift over her in an insulting manner before returning to her green eyes. “A woman like you isn’t cut out to live and work on a ranch.” She was clearly pampered and city-chic. She even had pearls and earrings on. No woman on a ranch wore pearls and earrings and suede shoes with the heels and toes cut out. Plus, she had sensational legs! How was he supposed to get any work done when she was walking around in a skirt, showing them off?

Lainey folded her arms and leaned toward him. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she scolded him fiercely, oblivious to the way her stance was lifting the soft curves of her breasts. “He isn’t asking me to dig ditches!”

Brad frowned, refusing to let the alluring fragrance of her perfume distract him. With difficulty, he kept his gaze away from the fabric stretched across her breasts. He’d already had one glimpse of her shapely form, he didn’t need another. “Those hands don’t look like they’ve done any hard labor indoors, either,” he continued.

Lainey released a long-suffering sigh. “I use hand cream,” she explained as if to a moron, then turned back to Lewis, all smug self-confidence. “You say I can bring my son to work with me?”

This time Brad did groan out loud.

Lewis perked up. “Heck, yeah. You can even bunk in the guest cottage if you like. That way the two of you wouldn’t have to drive back and forth to—”

“Highland Park.”

Which was, Brad thought, one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Dallas.

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Brad said, figuring the last thing they needed was some small-town-girl-turned-society-mama out here.

Lainey and Lewis turned to Brad. “No one asked you!” they declared in unison.

Lainey said to Lewis, “You understand it would only be for a few weeks?”

Lewis grinned, looking ridiculously slaphappy. “Unless I can talk you and your son into staying on permanently.”

“You don’t even know if she can cook!” Brad practically shouted.

Lewis shrugged. “If she doesn’t, she can learn. Can’t you, Lainey?”

Lainey took a long drink of her soda, then set the can down. “I certainly could. You’ve got a deal, Lewis. In the meantime, I’ve got to get back to Highland Park.”

Which still wasn’t saying if she did or did not know how to cook, Brad thought. Which in his view was an absolute necessity, since it was a twenty-minute drive to the nearest restaurant and the appeal of frozen dinners, sandwiches and prepackaged food—the only stuff he and his brother were capable of fixing—was already wearing mighty thin.

“But you’ll be back?” Lewis asked anxiously.

“Oh, yes. Tomorrow.” Lainey stared at Brad, all stubborn defiance. “First thing.”