Texan For The Taking. Charlene Sands

Texan For The Taking - Charlene Sands


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and sit for a while. I think I’ll join you.”

      Mason knew how the older man liked his coffee. He poured him a cup, stirred in two lumps of sugar and handed it to him. Drew had a sweet tooth but it was harmless enough, a substitute for alcohol perhaps. “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you for a bit,” Mason said. “If you’re up to it.”

      “Winning always perks me right up. I figure I’m good for a few more minutes while I drink this mud. You and Drea were out there awhile. Everything good between you two?” he asked.

      Mason had kissed Drea. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever forget the spark that had lit him up inside like fireworks on the Fourth of July. So no, everything was not good. Drea didn’t like him much, and he, well, he was feeling a hefty dose of guilt now, like he’d cheated on his wife. That gnawing ache wasn’t going away and he doubted he’d get much sleep tonight. “Yeah, everything’s fine. She’s a smart woman. She’s focused on the fund-raiser.”

      “She tell you all her ideas then?”

      “She did. They’re right on target. She seems to know how put on an event and build momentum.”

      They’d kick off the weekend on Friday evening with the HeART Auction of Boone Springs, garnering donations from local and not so local artists to sell on-site. For Saturday, she was planning a Family FUNd-raiser Festival, full of games and pony rides and raffles for children. Saturday night was reserved for a dinner-dance and she was in negotiations with a Grammy-nominated young country band to provide the entertainment. She’d managed to enlist a talented designer to create a website and was in the process of soliciting volunteers for the event.

      Mason would be in charge of logistics and overseeing the big picture, while Drea and her committees would work on the details.

      Their thirty-minute talk after they’d locked lips had managed to get his mind off her pretty green eyes and sweet body, and back on track.

      “I’m sure proud of her, but I wish she’d let up a little bit.”

      “She only has a short time to make it all happen, Drew.”

      “I know, but is it selfish of me to want her to myself? I mean, I know I don’t deserve it, and Lord knows, I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make up for being a lousy father to her when she needed me the most.”

      “She’ll come around. She loves you, Drew.”

      “Yeah, but she doesn’t always like me so very much.”

      Mason rubbed his jaw. Drea didn’t like him, either, and maybe that was a good thing. It would keep him from making the mistake of kissing her again. But he wasn’t one to give advice to Drew or anyone on matters of the heart, so he kept his mouth shut. “Aunt Lottie’s back home. She arrived last night from her trip to Africa and she’s thrilled that Drea’s here. I think you can expect her to come for a visit.”

      “Lottie, huh? What the hell was she doing in Africa for all those months?”

      Mason grinned. He suspected Drew was sweet on his aunt, but the two were like oil and water. And they had history: Lottie and Drew’s late wife, Maria, had been best friends until the day she’d died. “Don’t know. Maybe you should ask her when she stops by.”

      Drew looked away and grumbled something about her not wanting to see him.

      “What?”

      “Nothin’.”

      “Aunt Lottie wants to surprise Drea, so don’t say anything to her, okay?”

      “I won’t say a thing. My lips are sealed.”

      “Dad, are you talking to yourself?” Drea wandered into the kitchen and stopped short when she spotted Mason. “You’re still here?”

      He nodded, speechless. Drea was in her pajamas, a pair of soft pink cotton pants and a matching top that clung to her breasts, hiding little. His mouth was suddenly dry, but Mason kept his composure, even while that alive feeling bombarded him. “I was just going.”

      She folded her arms around her middle. If she thought that shielded her, she was mistaken. The material only pulled tighter across her chest.

      Mason turned and brought his coffee mug to the sink. He couldn’t look at her another second without showing her—and her father—how much she affected him.

      He could hardly believe it. Drea had poked the sleeping bear and he needed to get out of here, pronto. He headed for the front door, keeping his back to the MacDonalds. “Thanks for the game tonight, Drew. Good night, Drea.” Then he exited the cottage without giving either of them a parting glance.

      * * *

      The next day, Drea must’ve put a good one hundred miles on the car making stops all over the county, checking items off the to-do list on her cell phone. She’d be lost without her list. It was sort of scary thinking how if anything happened to her phone or tablet, her entire life would be erased. Lately, for this project, she’d been taking pen to paper, jotting notes as a backup, too. But her mind was crowded just the same with all the details for the event.

      As she parked the car in the driveway of her father’s cottage, she closed her eyes, thoughts running rampant through her head.

       Check in with the caterers.

       Make the rounds at local art galleries.

       Double-check with Katie regarding the children’s cupcake-decorating booth.

       Plead with The Band Blue to donate an evening of entertainment.

       Stop thinking about Mason.

      Darn it. The more she tried, the harder it was. She’d be right in the middle of planning her next move with the fund-raiser when her mind would flash to Mason. His fingers softly touching her, the immediate red-hot spark that baffled them both and then the determination in his eyes when he’d finally bent his head and made exquisite contact with her lips. He’d stirred something deep inside her, more than curiosity, more than bravado, and she’d had to see the kiss through.

      He’d said she made him feel alive. Now if that wasn’t an ego boost. And she hadn’t lied; it had been the best kiss she’d had in a long time. That was where it got confusing. She resented Mason. For how he’d humiliated her. For how he’d dismissed her so easily and broken her heart. She’d lost so much of herself then and had run into the arms of the first man who’d paid her attention, giving him her body, but not her heart.

      A knock on the car window snapped her out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes and focused on the woman smiling in at her.

      “Drea, sweetheart. I couldn’t wait another second to see you. I hope I didn’t startle you.”

      “Lottie?”

      “It’s me. I’m back and I’m dying to talk to you.”

      Drea couldn’t get out fast enough to give her “aunt” a long, lingering hug. “Oh, Lottie. It’s so good to see you!” Because Drea’s mom and Lottie had been BFF all their lives, she’d been in Drea’s life, too. After her mother died, Lottie had given her the love and attention Maria couldn’t any longer.

      Drea pulled back to look into Lottie’s eyes. They still held sparkle and spunk. At sixty, Lottie was no wilting flower. She’d kept up her appearance, wearing trendy clothes, staying slender and coloring her gray a honey-blond shade, her silky locks reaching her shoulders. “You look beautiful, Lottie. I swear you never age.”

      “Age is just a number, sweetie. And that’s so kind of you to say.” Lottie smiled again, giving her the once-over. “You’re the one who’s beautiful, Drea. You’re all grown up. I know I say that every time I see you, but it’s true. You look more and more like your mama every day.”

      “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

      “As


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