Читать книгу Wrangling Wes - Jacquelin Thomas - Страница 11
ОглавлениеChapter 3
Wesley had to be up early the next morning, so he left shortly after eleven o’clock to return to the ranch. He’d agreed to drive his grandfather home on the way, since his parents and siblings were still at the hotel.
“That was a purdy lil’ woman that wrangled you tonight, Wes,” his grandfather said as he removed his tuxedo jacket. “Right purdy girl.”
He chuckled. “From the looks of it, you didn’t do too bad yourself, Grandpa.”
“I just have to remember to have her home before her curfew.”
Wesley threw back his head and laughed. “I noticed some of the women weren’t happy at being outbid by a twenty-year-old—especially Eugenia Maple. She’s had her eye on you since her husband died last year.”
“She may have her eye on me, but I’m not interested,” Charles uttered. “I know for a fact she drove Henry to his grave. From what he used to tell me, Eugenia is not an easy woman to live with. I’ll tell you this, Wes. That’s not how I intend to live out the rest of my days—with a nagging woman.”
“I want someone I can be friends with,” Wesley stated. An image of Lydia materialized in his mind.
“Friends with,” his grandfather repeated.
He nodded. “I want a woman I like being around and want to spend time with. I want a woman I can talk to about anything and she’s actually interested in hearing what I have to say. I want a woman who will be honest and trustworthy. Someone who won’t play games.”
“Your grandmother was... She was a good woman. Outspoken and told the truth, even when you didn’t want to hear it. Lawd knows...I miss that woman.”
“Grandpa, I miss her, too,” Wesley confessed. “Things aren’t the same without her.”
He headed to the front door. “Don’t forget to take your medicine, Grandpa.”
Charles waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Good night, Wes.”
Laughing, Wesley responded, “I’ll see you in the morning.” His grandfather resented being treated like an old man. He was independent and intent on doing things his own way.
Wesley drove from the main house to his own place, a three-bedroom cabin that had been renovated six years prior.
Inside, he walked straight to his bedroom and undressed.
As he prepared for bed, Wesley’s thoughts turned back to Lydia. His attraction to her was instant, igniting an interest in learning more about her. The fact that she had her own money was also attractive to him. He had long grown tired of gold diggers.
Lydia was different from the women he was used to dealing with. Unlike in the past, Wesley found himself looking forward to Saturday night.
Maybe it was because she wasn’t from Granger. Whatever the reason, his interest in her was piqued. He was looking forward to getting to know Lydia better.
Wesley had no doubt in his mind that he would be seeing more of her after Saturday night. It was just the beginning for them.
* * *
Saturday arrived along with her long-anticipated date with Wesley. Lydia fingered her curls as she eyed her reflection in the mirror.
I feel like an excited schoolgirl experiencing her first date. She giggled at the thought. It had been a long time since she’d felt this way. Lydia had to remind herself that this wasn’t a real date.
The thought put a damper on her excitement. It was a ruse to get close to Wesley.
The ringing of her cell phone provided a wonderful distraction for her. Lydia picked it up, looking at the caller ID. “I can’t talk to you right now,” she whispered.
She tossed the cell on the bed and then turned her attention back to her appearance. Even though it was not a real date, Lydia wanted to look her best for Wesley. She had a feeling that it would be a night she would never forget. Wesley had been very secretive about their date and had given her no details. I can’t read too much into this, Lydia reminded herself. The only reason he was taking her out was because she’d donated ten thousand dollars to charity. It wasn’t even her own money that she’d used. She was not even being her true self.
A thread of guilt snaked down her spine. Lydia liked Wesley, and deep down it really bothered her that she was not being completely honest with him.
She kept trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter. Lydia was in Granger to find out everything she could about Wesley, and then she would be returning to Los Angeles.
Yet, she could not deny the spark of excitement at the prospect of spending time with Wesley Broward, even if it was a job.
A job, she acknowledged, she would find enjoyable.
Lydia jumped at the sound of a knock on the door.
She did a final check of her makeup and hair before opening the door.
Wesley raised an eyebrow a fraction at the sight of her.
Their gaze met and held.
Lydia could almost feel the movement of his breathing. “Hello,” she whispered.
He wore a starched white shirt and a pair of black denim pants with highly polished cowboy boots. The sight of Wesley standing in her hotel room made Lydia’s heart beat rapidly and her pulse quicken. A delicious shiver of wanting ran through her.
She could barely tear her gaze away from him.
Neither one said a word.
After a few moments, Lydia burst into a short, nervous laugh to break the silence. “I guess we should get a move on.”
Wesley nodded. “Yes, ma’am, but there’s one thing you need to do before we go.”
Confused, she met his gaze. “What is it?”
“You need to take off that dress.”
* * *
The heavy lashes that shadowed her cheeks flew up. “Excuse me?” What’s wrong with my dress? she wondered.
Wesley eyed the silk dress Lydia was wearing and smiled. She looked exquisite—too exquisite for the evening he’d planned for them. His gaze traveled to her shoes. “You might want to wear something a little more comfortable,” he told her.
She glanced down at her clothes and asked, “Why? Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he murmured.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Lydia responded.
“Okay,” he said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She was quiet on the drive to the surprise location. Wesley drove to the last place anyone would think he would bring a date.
When he pulled into the parking lot of their destination, he stole a peek at Lydia. Her expression was unreadable.
“What’s the name of this place?” she asked.
“Shank of the Evening Saloon.”
“That’s quite an interesting name,” Lydia responded as she eyed the wooden shack. To most outsiders, it probably looked like an old eyesore, but not to her. “How old is this place?”
“It’s been around for almost seventy-five years,” he told her. “And it’s a favorite of ranchers in the area.”
Wesley noticed that she looked mildly surprised that he would bring her to such a gritty establishment whose interior walls were covered with old license plates, news clippings and photos of the past.
But if Lydia was at all shocked by his choice of venue, she certainly hid it well.
Lydia had no idea that the only reason he’d brought her to this place was to gauge her reaction. Quite a few women were interested more in his money than in him. Wesley wanted to get a feel for Lydia. He was curious as to why she’d bid so much money for a date with him. It had to be to get his attention.
Lydia had no idea that she had already sparked Wesley’s interest in her. He cleared his throat, pretending not to be affected.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked, fully expecting her to order some girlie drink.
She glanced around the saloon, and then said, “I’d like a beer.”
Wesley was surprised. He also noted that she didn’t flinch at the less-than-refined behavior of some of the patrons around them, and he was impressed. There was more to this city girl than he first thought.
Their beers arrived.
Lydia took a sip of hers.
He smiled when she didn’t make a face at the taste. This was a woman who truly seemed to enjoy a beer every now and then.
“You look surprised,” she said. “You’ve never seen a girl drink beer?”
“I never thought a city girl like you would ever drink one, or be comfortable in a place like this.”
“I’m an occasional drinker,” Lydia told him. “I may drink a beer once or twice a year. My drink of choice is a chocolate raspberry martini, but I’m pretty sure I won’t find that here.”
Wesley chuckled. “You’re right about that.”
“As for this place, this is nothing new to me,” Lydia stated. “I’ve been in places similar to this back home in New York.”
She swayed to the music. “I’ve never been much of a country music lover, but it’s actually growing on me.”
“I like some of it,” he responded. “I’m more of a jazz lover.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “There’s no better music than jazz. My favorites are the samba/bossa nova standards, especially if I want some soft, pleasant jazz to relax to.”
“Wesley, what do you do for recreation?” Lydia asked. “Do you play any sports?”
“I played football and basketball in high school,” he answered. “I didn’t do much in college though because of a knee injury. I focused more on my studies. As for now, I enjoy riding my horse in the evenings—it relaxes me after a long day. I play basketball every now and then with some guys I went to college with. What about you? What do you do for fun?”
Lydia smiled at him. “Not much these days.”
“Why is that?” Wesley asked.
“No special reason,” she responded. “I guess I’ve been trying new things, such as coming to Montana.” Lydia met his gaze. “I’m glad I did.”
“I have to say that I’m glad you decided to visit our lil’ town. I never would’ve met you otherwise.”
“I have to say that I’m glad I decided to come to Granger. It’s beautiful here.”
She took a sip of her beer. “I’d really like to know more about you, Wesley. I’ve never met a man like you.”
“Call me Wes. Wesley sounds so formal.”
Lydia grinned. “Okay...Wes it is.” She paused a heartbeat before saying, “Tell me something about you that most people don’t know.”
Normally Wes would deflect this attempt at getting personal with some self-deprecating humor, but something about Lydia prompted him to answer honestly. “I want something more out of life. More than ranching.”
His response was not what she would have expected him to say. “Then why don’t you go after whatever it is that you want?” she asked. “Life is short. Live every moment as if it’s your last.”
Wesley met Lydia’s gaze and smiled. “You’re right.” It just wasn’t that easy for him, however. He had to think of his family and what his choices would mean for them.
He leaned forward and asked, “Would you like to dance?”
She surprised Wesley by removing her high-heeled sandals. “Sure.”
He broke into a grin. “C’mon, darlin’.”
* * *
Perspiration dotted her brow as they made their way off the dance floor. Lydia was having the time of her life. The establishment looked like nothing more than an old shack, but the music was great.
Fanning herself with her left hand, Lydia said, “I need a glass of ice water.”
“Have a seat and I’ll get you some,” Wesley told her.
She returned to their table and sat down.
A few minutes later, Wesley walked over with her water. “Here you are, darlin’.”
“Thanks,” Lydia murmured as she accepted the glass from him. “You are a life saver.”
He dropped down into the seat beside her.
She turned to face Wesley and whispered, “This may surprise you, but I am having a great time.”
He eyed her. “Really? In a place like this?”
“Yes,” Lydia confirmed. “It doesn’t look like much, but I like it.”
“I have a confession to make,” Wesley stated.
“What is it?”
“I brought you here to get some type of reaction from you. I wanted a glimpse into the real you.”
“I guess you expected me to throw some type of tantrum.” Wesley had no idea that a place like this was nothing new to Lydia. She used to frequent some of the hole-in-the-wall joints back in Syracuse when she was in college. While she had been surprised in his choice, she was not repulsed by the establishment.
“I didn’t know what to expect, Lydia. I have another admission. From the moment I saw you at the gala, you’ve had my interest piqued.”
Lydia’s heart leaped at his words. It was at that moment that she realized just how much she wanted Wesley to find her desirable. Not just to play into her employer’s plan, whatever it really was. But for her own satisfaction.
“Be honest,” he said. “You’re not a little bit shocked that I brought you to a place like this? I’m sure you expected to be taken to some expensive restaurant.”
“I did,” she confessed. “But it doesn’t matter. Wesley, I’m not some snobby type, if that’s what you were worried about. I’m just a normal flesh-and-blood woman.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Wesley said with a smile. “Relieved actually.”
Lydia laughed. “I have to confess that I wondered the same about you. I had hoped you weren’t some stiff-shirt type of snob.”
“I’m sure you know that’s not me by now.”
She nodded. Lydia thought she detected a flicker in his intense eyes. She shifted in her chair as she struggled to regain control of her emotions.
I’m here to do a job, she reminded herself. Getting involved with Wesley would be a huge mistake. One she could not afford.