Texas Fever. Kimberly Raye
was her dream—a real home where she could plant a garden and make friends and finally fit in for the first time in her life. It was the lust that made her blow out a deep breath and notice the dampness of her T-shirt and the sweat that trickled down her temple.
She’d lived in Texas for several years. She was used to the heat. Of course, it was quite a bit hotter here than it had been in Houston. And her apartment building had been fairly new, with central-air units in each apartment. Unlike the old farmhouse and its one ancient window unit.
That’s just temporary. Like Josh.
Holly was through with fast and furious when it came to relationships. She wanted lasting relationships from here on out. From friendships to that special someone.
For the first time in her life, she wanted a special someone. A man to laugh with, grow old with, love.
She licked her lips and tried to ignore the tingling of her own bottom lip as she headed back to her kitchen.
JOSH CLIMBED into his truck and headed down the long stretch of driveway toward the small farm road that connected the Farraday Inn with the Iron Horse Ranch, and tried to catch his breath.
She’d turned him down. At the same time, just seeing her had turned him on. And hearing her say the word orgasm… That hadn’t helped the situation even if she had been talking about a dessert.
When he pictured a woman who baked for a living, the first image that came to mind was his great-aunt Lurline. She’d made the best peanut butter cookies this side of the Rio Grande. She was also eighty-two with a soft, plump body and a steel-gray perm.
Holly Farraday, on the other hand, had a body made for hot, sweaty bumping and grinding. Long legs that wrapped around his waist and refused to let go. A soft, round ass that fit his hands just perfect. A smooth belly that felt whisper soft against his lips. Perky breasts that plumped in his hands and red nipples that ripened at the flick of his tongue.
His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. Restlessness clawed at his insides as he turned the truck onto the main road and pressed down on the accelerator. The engine roared to life, eating up gravel and dust at a frantic pace that matched his heartbeat.
He’d had a hunch she wouldn’t sell the moment she’d suggested dinner on Friday night after they’d had sex. Dinner meant tomorrow and tomorrow meant next week, and next week meant that he was shit out of luck. But he’d promised his grandfather, and himself, and so he’d swallowed his skepticism and driven out to the Farraday Inn today and made his offer.
And then another. And another.
And the whole friggin’ time, the only thing he’d been thinking of was, not how much he wanted the land, but how much he wanted her.
Under him, surrounding him, squeezing his cock with her sweet heat until he couldn’t think anymore.
Not about the past and his own mistake that still ate away inside of him. Not about the present and fixing his grandfather’s mistake. And not about the future and the guilt that would stay with him for the rest of his life if he didn’t make amends right now and put the Iron Horse back together.
He might not be able to do it.
Before he had a chance to dwell on the realization, his cell phone rang.
Josh checked the caller ID and pressed the talk button.
“How’s it hangin’, bro?”
“It isn’t.” Mason McGraw’s voice floated over the line. “It’s gone into permanent hiding.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve got a pissed-off father on your tail.”
“Worse.”
Josh started to ask about a pissed-off husband, but he knew better. While he and his brothers had varied tastes when it came to women—Josh went for the temporary beauties who steered free of commitment, Mason had a thing for party-hearty, blue-eyed blondes with big breasts, while Rance liked them tall and classy—they all lived by one rule. No married women. “Two pissed-off fathers?” he asked instead.
“I wish. Try a kindergarten teacher with a really loud biological clock.”
“Since when do you do schoolteachers?”
“I didn’t do her. We’re just friends. At least, I thought we were up until last night when she asked me if I liked the name Jason. I said yes and she said good because it’s the name she’s picked out for baby number one. I haven’t even kissed her and she’s talking babies, for chrissake. I can’t have a kid right now. I mean, someday, sure. But now? And when I do, I’m sure as hell not going to name him Jason. It’s an all right name, but my boy is going to be a junior—”
“Whoa, back up a second. You and this teacher are just friends? As in order a pizza, watch the game and share a few beers?”
“This is the Black Hills, bro. I’m smack-dab in the middle of a five-thousand-acre ranch centered around a small town, population eight hundred. The closest pizza place is a good three hours away. She offered to cook.” When Josh let loose a loud whistle, Mason added, “Look, it’s not like that. At least I didn’t think it was like that. I see her every now and then when I go into town. She knows I’m from Texas and she likes the Houston Texans. We talk football. At least we did talk football until last night.”
“What did she cook?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Well, if she served you a Hungry Man, I’d say you’re probably overreacting. TV dinners don’t require the same commitment as real food.”
“She made stew.”
“Uh-oh.”
“And home-baked rolls.”
“You’re totally screwed,” Josh told him. “Unless you clean the slate right now. Turn down the next dinner date.”
“That’s not an option.”
“Why not?”
“Because I already said yes. I started to say no, but then she looked like she was going to cry and I buckled. Christ, I need to hurry the hell up and get out of here.”
“How much longer?”
“We’re inseminating the last batch of cattle next week. After that, it’s just paperwork and planning. I should wrap everything up in about three to four weeks. Five at the most. What am I going to do?”
“Get used to the name Jason.”
“Kiss my ass.”
Josh laughed. “It’s good to see the stress hasn’t affected your charm.” An idea struck just as he said the words. “That’s it, bro.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re stuck in this situation because you’re not looking at this woman as a woman. I’m assuming she’s nowhere near Triple B status.”
“She’s a brunette. Brown eyes. Good sense of humor. Smart. I’m not sure about her figure because she wears these loose, overall type dresses like Ms. Crenshaw.” Ms. Crenshaw had been their third-grade teacher. She’d worn thick, chunky black shoes and said, “Sit up straight!” in a voice that had made even the McGraw brothers snap to attention. “She might have a decent chest. I don’t know. I don’t think of her like that.”
“So start. She obviously thinks you’re this nice, professional, mild-mannered sort of guy who likes animals. While you do like animals, you’re also capable of acting like one.”
“I never really thought about it like that. It’ll take some effort—she actually told me to sit up straight at dinner last night—but I can do it.”
“And do it fast.”
“You anxious to leave already?”
“I’m anxious