Somebody Like You Page 5

  “Food first?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “You’re not one of those vegetarians or vegans, are you?”

  When she laughed, he felt it to the toes of his silver-tipped boots.

  “No. I’m a carnivore.”

  “Good.”

  As they headed west, he said, “Lean your head back, Annie. Look up.”

  When she did, a soft sound escaped her, an almost-purr that arrowed straight to his gut. “Endless Texas sky over dry prairie as far as your eye can see.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah.” His voice came out gruff. “Yeah, it is.”

  A couple of miles later, he swerved into the dusty parking lot of Bubba’s Roadhouse and hid a smile when she gripped the hand rest. The lady needed to learn to relax.

  Annelise shook her head. Cash drove the same way he moved through life. He decided where he was headed and didn’t stop till he got there, and yet the journey seemed unhurried. Relaxed. She envied him that.

  Her eyes rounded as she took in the restaurant. Unpainted wood siding gave the place a rustic, slightly neglected aura. Neon lights in the windows advertised beer and good food. Rough-hewn rockers and thirsty-looking potted plants littered the long porch.

  “Best pizza in town,” Cash said. “Course, they’ve also got steaks and prime-rib sandwiches that’ll make you swoon if that’s what you’re hungry for.”

  “This is beef country, isn’t it? I’d expect nothing less from Bubba’s.” She grinned. “Think I’ll stick with the pizza, though. You put the thought in my head, and now that’s what I want.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll have.” He walked around and opened her door. Even though she was used to the small courtesy, it touched her. Cash Hardeman wasn’t someone paid to fawn over her. No. He opened the door for her because his mother had taught him to do that when he was with a lady. It meant something.

  She kept coming back to that. Gestures should mean something, not be performed by rote or because convention demanded them. She didn’t want someone to take care of her because it was his job. She wanted someone to want to take care of her. To take care of Annelise, the person, not Annelise, the heiress.

  And she wanted to earn that.

  A thin rivulet of sweat trickled down her back. Part Texas heat, but also part nerves. And why was that? For Pete’s sake, she’d eaten at some of the world’s most prestigious restaurants, had dined with movie stars and heads of state.

  Yet here she was, nervous about heading into a saloon with cow horns over the door. Shake it off, Annelise. Breathe. In, out. In, out.

  Hand on her back, Cash showed her inside. Distracted by his heat and the quick stab of awareness at his touch, it took her a few seconds to appreciate her surroundings.

  Bubba’s Roadhouse could have been a Hollywood set, the stereotypical Texas hangout. A huge Lone Star flag had been tacked on the left wall. White and brown cowhide stools crowded up to a huge slab of a bar. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all rough-hewn wood. Tables were scattered haphazardly throughout the small space, and the smell of barbecue blended with that of stale beer. Country music played on the chrome Wurlitzer jukebox in the corner.

  Her stomach rumbled.

  “Hungry, aren’t you?” Cash leaned close and spoke directly into her ear. “’Cordin’ to Hank, you did get some lunch today.”

  She tried to ignore the silly little dance her stomach did as his breath whispered across her cheek. “I did. But that, I swear, was another lifetime ago.”

  Cash nodded to a lone guy behind the bar. “Hey, Bubba, how’s it going?”

  “Roof’s not leakin’, and I’ve got food in my belly, so it’s a good day.” Bubba dried a glass with a bar towel, holding it up to the dim light to inspect it. “You two sit anywhere you want. Mitzy’ll be right with ya.”

  “Thanks.” Passing one of the blue and white oilcloth-covered tables, Cash tipped his hat to an elderly couple. “Evening Harlan, Isabel.”

  “Howdy, Cash. D’ya get that parcel of land you were hankerin’ for? The one that backs up to your place?”

  “Yep, I sure did. Took some hard dickering, but old Nash finally gave in. Cost a few dollars more than I’d planned to wrestle it away from him, but”—he shrugged—“it was worth it.”

  Harlan’s wife, dressed in jeans and a Western-style shirt, studied Annelise. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Cash?”

  “Oh, sorry.” He half-turned to Annelise. “Isabel, this beautiful lady is Annie.”

  “Well, welcome to Maverick Junction, honey. You staying long?”

  Interesting, Annelise thought. No last names, and no one seemed to notice or care. “I’m not sure, but I’m hoping so. I rented an apartment yesterday and started work for Cash this morning.”

  “Oh?” Harlan looked at Cash. “You adding more hands?”

  “Only the one right now. Thought Hank could use a little help in the stable.”

  Harlan nodded in approval. “Good for you, son. Good for you. Your grandpa would have been proud of you.”

  Grandpa. Her mind drifted to hers. What if Isabel was his long-lost sister? She could be. The age was about right. Her gaze drifted around the room. Was her great-aunt here tonight?

  “You have a good evening, Harlan. Isabel,” Cash said, drawing her out of her musings.

  With a couple more head nods, they moved on toward a table tucked under one of the windows. Not many people were out tonight. Of course, Annelise thought, it was a weeknight. And if the rest of the people in Maverick Junction worked even a fraction as hard as she had today, they were probably already home in bed.

  When Cash took her hand, she instinctively snatched it away. No public displays of affection. Her mother had pounded that into her head before she even realized what PDA meant. All it took was one hand held, one innocent kiss to make tabloid headlines.

  His forehead creased in question. But instead of answering, she raised her hand to her mouth, hid a yawn behind it.

  “Tired?” Cash bumped her shoulder with his, the casual gesture somehow more intimate than handholding.

  “A little. I’m not used to doing a lot of physical work.”

  Several people’s stares lingered on her, making her uneasy. Surely they wouldn’t recognize her. She decided the best strategy was to smile and otherwise ignore them. After all, who’d expect to see the granddaughter of one of the country’s wealthiest men dressed in jeans here at Bubba’s Roadhouse? Very unlikely anybody would put two and two together. Still, jitters played tag in her stomach.

  Once they sat down, though, she relaxed.

  The waitress, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt like most of the customers, plopped two menus in front of them. “Hey, Cash.” The redhead sent him a blinding smile. “Haven’t seen you for a bit. Where ya been keeping yourself?”

  “Busy at the ranch, Mitzy. How’ve you been?”

  “Doin’ okay. Same thing every day, you know?”

  “Yeah, well, keep those big blue eyes of yours open.” His gaze moved to Annelise. “You never know when something’s gonna drop in that’ll shake your world.”

  Annelise fought the heat rising in her face again. Had he meant her? Had she shaken his world? No. Maybe. A silly smile threatened.

  “What d’ya want to drink?”

  “I’ll have a Lone Star. Ice-cold. How about you, Annie?”

  “You know, I think I’ll have one, too.” Something inside her quivered in delight. Here she was, sitting in a small Texas barbecue, having a beer. And she intended to drink it right out of the bottle. Not a camera or paparazzo in sight.

  She grinned.

  Cash’s brow rose, and he grinned back at her. “Something’s rattling around in that pretty head of yours, ’cause the look on your face is pure mischief.”

  She laughed. “No. I’m just…just feeling good.”

  Now, both his brows shot up. “After the day you put in?”

  “Yes, even after today, manure shoveli
ng and all.”

  Mitzy returned with their beers and pulled an order pad from her blue apron’s deep pocket. Annelise couldn’t help herself. She checked for a wedding band. None there. Was their oh, so friendly waitress this free and easy with all the customers? Or did she pour it on a little thicker when Cash came in?

  None of her business.

  “So, what’s it gonna be tonight?”

  After some haggling, they decided to share a pizza—loaded.

  “Cook’s got a couple before you, so it’ll be a few minutes.”

  “That’s okay. We’re in no hurry,” Cash said. “We’ll sit here and relax.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Annelise patted her stomach. “I’m starving.”

  “How about I bring you a basket of rolls? That hold ya?”

  “That would be great,” she said. “Thanks.”

  When the bread basket arrived, Annelise all but pounced on it. The rolls were soft and warm and yeasty-smelling. Enjoying half of one, Cash stood and walked over to the jukebox. Her brows furrowed when he dropped in some quarters, then crooked a finger at her.

  She pointed at herself and mouthed, “Me?”

  He nodded.

  “Cash.”

  “C’mon. Dance with me. It won’t hurt. Promise. And it’ll give us something to do while we wait for dinner. Take your mind off that empty belly.”

  The music started and she smiled, recognizing the George Strait song. It had played on the Caddy’s radio on the way here. Not something she’d dance to at one of her parents’ galas. Nicer. Better. Earthy and down-home.

  Despite herself, she stood and strolled over to him. When he took her hand, electricity tingled clear to her toes. She pulled back.

  “What is it?” His brow creased. “Your hands. I’m sorry.” His own dropped to his sides.

  “No! No, my hands are fine. Honest.” She reached for his, prepared this time for the jolt. “I’ve never danced in Texas, so you’re going to have to show me how to do this.”

  “It’s a waltz.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “A Western waltz.” He drew her into him, spun her around the floor. “Look. Everybody in here is trying to figure out exactly who you are. How we met. How deeply we’re involved. And how a cowboy like me managed to get a looker like you out here on the dance floor.”

  She struggled to put distance between them, but he shook his head and tugged her closer still. “Huh-uh. Let’s give them something to talk about.”

  “You’re bad, Cash.”

  Annelise swore his eyes twinkled. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. This was fun. And it melted her insides. He was remarkably light on his feet. One dance stretched into two, then three. As he held her close, she smiled. It was nice to be able to be herself. To not have to impress or pretend. To put away her worries.

  In the next day or two, she’d have to see about getting to Lone Tree to start making inquiries. But for tonight, she could simply enjoy. Simply be Annie. For this little while, all her mother’s rules faded away. No expectations, no bodyguards, no formalities. Just her and this beautiful cowboy.

  The music stopped, and they walked back to the table, hand in hand. When she sat down, he leaned in close. She held her breath, sighed when he simply tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Such a simple gesture, yet so intimate.

  Before she could catch her breath to say anything, Mitzy showed up with their pizza. Too hungry to wait, Annelise took her first bite too soon, scalding the roof of her mouth.

  “Youch.” She fanned at her open mouth. “Hot.”

  Then, she let go and gave in to the moment, luxuriating in the meal, in the man beside her. Cash was right. Bubba’s was home to the best pizza she’d ever eaten. But halfway through her second piece, a camera flash went off. She jerked upright, her gaze bouncing around the room.

  Cash reached out to her. “Whoa, darlin’. You look like a skittish mare that’s stumbled on a rattler.” He tipped his head, indicating a table across the room. “Suzie, Farley Jamison’s daughter over there, is celebrating her fifteenth birthday. Somebody took a picture for the family album. That’s all.”

  Annelise smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Don’t know what got into me.”

  Mentally, she chastised herself. She needed to get a grip and quit acting like some spooked ninny. If she went around jumping at shadows, expecting the paparazzi to be hiding around every corner, it wouldn’t take Cash long to get suspicious. The man might wear cowboy boots and jeans, but that mind of his was every bit as sharp as any Ivy Leaguer she’d ever debated.

  And then that man reached across the table and snagged a piece of pepperoni from her pizza.

  “Hey!” She slapped his fingers. “Hands off. This is mine, boss man.”

  He laughed and ordered another Lone Star.

  A few minutes later, the birthday girl showed up at their table, holding out two plates. “I brought you a piece of my cake, Cash.” She looked toward Annelise. “I brought one for you, too. It’s really good. My grandma Bessie made it. Red velvet with cream-cheese frosting.”

  “Well, thank you, Suzie. Your grandma bakes the best cakes this side of the Mississippi.” He winked. “Don’t tell my mama I said that.”

  Cash took the plates from her, handing one to Annelise. As he made his way through the dessert, he talked amicably with the teenager, teasing her about her newest beau till her cheeks blushed. Annelise listened, envying him his casual, easy rapport. Cash Hardeman knew everyone in the restaurant, and they knew him. All laid-back and comfortable.

  The young girl turned to Annelise. “You know, y’all really look familiar.”

  A nervous little prickle raced down Annelise’s spine, but she simply smiled and shrugged. “You know what they say about all of us having a twin.”

  “I’m sorry, Suzie. This here’s Annie,” Cash introduced, pointing his cake fork at her.

  Annie. Not Annelise. And she blessed the gods she’d not stuck to her guns about the nickname earlier.

  “Happy birthday, Suzie,” she said.

  “Thanks.” The teen twirled a dark brown curl around her finger. “Well, I’d better get back.” With a wave, she was gone.

  Lounging in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, Cash took a pull of his beer. “You know, if I’m gonna pay you, sugar, you need to fill out some forms for me.”

  “There’s no hurry with that, is there?” she asked.

  “Not if you’re in no hurry for a payday.”

  She thought about her cash reserves, now stashed in the apartment’s old refrigerator. She could use her mother’s maiden name in a pinch, but it would still be risky. “Actually, I’m okay. For now.”

  He said nothing for a few seconds, then, “You want a coffee?”

  “I’d love one.”

  “Mitzy’s pretty busy. I’ll mosey on up to the bar and get them. Save her a trip.”

  The second his back was turned, she snagged the paper from the table next to her. She’d spied the article on the lower left half of the front page when Suzie had brought their cake. It had been driving her nuts, and she’d prayed like never before that Cash wouldn’t spot it.

  Oil Baron in Remission. She skimmed the words, assuring herself that all was well with her grandfather, that his condition hadn’t changed in the few days she’d been gone. Her mother had told her he was okay, but she sometimes sugarcoated things.

  And then, there it was. At the very end of the article.

  The entire Montjoy family attended the reopening of their newly renovated office branch in New York City. Montjoy’s granddaughter Annelise, second in line to inherit the company, was conspicuously absent. When asked about her nonattendance, the family had no comment as to her whereabouts or the reason for her no-show. This is the second event Annelise has missed this week. What is the Montjoy heiress up to?

  Shoot! She rubbed weary eyes, opening them in time to see a sexy blonde,
dressed in a white, frilly see-through top, a red, barely-there skirt, and matching stilettos move up behind Cash at the bar and snake an arm around him, her hand caressing his shoulder.

  Somebody obviously thought of Cash as her private property. Annelise wondered if maybe she should slip out unobserved. She didn’t want his offer of dinner to cause trouble.

  But she hesitated. That dance they’d shared. He hadn’t felt committed to anyone else while they’d been on the dance floor. Had held her way too close for that. And she’d held him right back. And that was trouble enough for anyone—and a good enough reason to hit the road, to move on to Lone Tree.

  She couldn’t start anything with him. It would be totally unfair to both of them.

  As she slid her chair away from the table, Cash turned. Met her eyes.

  He gave a slight shake of his head, and she stilled.

  Too far away to hear what he said, she saw his lips move, the tightening of the blonde’s jaw. With a pat to her hand, he picked up the coffees and walked back to the table.

  The blonde’s gaze followed him, flicked to Annelise.

  “Here you go, sugar. Should be strong enough to stand your hair on end.”

  She nodded toward the woman. “Who is she?”

  “My grandma,” he answered, deadpan.

  She laughed, almost spurting her first sip of the ungodly strong coffee.

  His eyes held steady. “I’m serious.”

  “Oh, God. You are, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  She shook her head. “Your family might be more screwed up than mine.”

  Chapter Five

  Annelise and Cash drank their coffee in silence. The fans whirled overhead, but they’d long since waved the white flag, admitting defeat. The room grew hotter, closer. A quick glance at the Howdy Doody bar clock showed a quarter till nine.

  The only other time Annelise had been in Texas, she’d come with her grandfather. They’d flown in, been picked up at the Dallas airport by one of his friends, and had stayed in his sprawling condo, cocooned in air-conditioned comfort. When they’d ventured back outside, the interior of the limo waiting to deliver them to the fund-raiser was cool enough she’d needed a wrap around her shoulders. After the obligatory smiles, handshakes, and rubber chicken, they’d jetted home. Nary a drop of sweat had been shed.