Somebody Like You Page 6

  Cash’s world was far different and dominated by unfettered heat. Heat he seemed unaffected by.

  She studied him. Whatever had gone on between him and his grandmother had sure put him in a sour mood. Gone was the laughing man who’d swung her around the dance floor. He played with his spoon, twirling it on the wooden table, his eyes avoiding hers, while his grandmother, legs crossed, skirt riding high, perched on a stool at the bar—watching them.

  Grandma appeared to be very interested in her grandson and his dining companion and didn’t try in the least to hide it.

  Had to be a story here, and Annelise sure as heck wished she knew what it was.

  “You ready?”

  His deep voice jolted her, and she nearly spilled the coffee she’d only picked up.

  “Yes, I am.” She set down her cup. “Anything I should know?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay then.” She placed her napkin on the table and started to rise.

  He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “Here’s the deal.” His voice sounded unlike him. Harsh. “My grandfather met and married Vivi on a weekend trip to Vegas. Eight months later, he died. I sure as hell wish he hadn’t done either. But he did.”

  Cash shrugged. “Nothing for you to worry about, though. It won’t impact your work on the ranch. Believe me, Vivi gives the barn a wide berth.”

  “Do you live with her?”

  Instantly, she wished she could withdraw the question. Whatever was between Cash and his grandmother wasn’t any of her business. After all, didn’t she hate people prying into her private life? Cash deserved the same respect.

  His laugh spilled out before she could tell him it didn’t matter. “No, ma’am. She lives in the big house. The white one at the end of the drive. I’ve got my own place down by the lake.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t think you do, Annie. It’s a mess. But it’s my mess.”

  She frowned. Back off, Annelise. You’re out of line.

  “It’s not important,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. Morning alarm’s gonna be going off before we know it.”

  Annelise bit back a groan. So true. She’d been up before the sun this morning and would be again tomorrow. Ranchers kept grueling hours. Who’d have guessed? When she wanted milk, she went to the refrigerator. If she wanted a steak, she asked Cook for one or ordered it at her favorite restaurant. There’d been no thought about the men and women who raised that beef or crawled out of bed before dawn to milk those cows. It had never crossed her mind.

  She smiled. “You’re so right.” When she stood, he put a hand under her elbow. A gentleman through and through, she thought. Good old-fashioned manners. Refreshing.

  Despite the heat, the venomous look Vivi sent her as they passed could have induced hypothermia. Cash didn’t seem to notice. He tipped his hat at the bartender. “Night, Bubba. Food was good as always.”

  The bartender swiped at the counter with his rag. “Night, Cash.” He dipped his chin. “Ma’am.”

  They stepped outside. Crickets chirped, and some scary sounding animal howled off in the distance. It reminded her of a movie set.

  Annelise raised her eyes, and the breath caught in her throat. The Texas sky was huge and strewn with twinkling stars, so big and bright she fancied she could almost touch them. A sliver of a moon hung overhead as if it had been waiting for them to come admire it.

  “Cash, it’s…breathtaking.”

  He thumbed back his cowboy hat and stared up into the glitter-strewn night sky. “Yeah, it is.”

  They stood, shoulder to shoulder, in the middle of the parking lot. The night wrapped itself around them as intimately as a lover might.

  Sighing, Annelise asked, “Are any stores still open?”

  He checked his watch. “Sadler’s stays open for about another hour.”

  “As much as I’d like to call it a night, I really need to shop for food. And I’d sure like to get some paint samples.”

  “Then let’s do it.”

  They left the top down as they drove the couple of miles back into town. After parking the boat-of-a-car, he herded her into a large barnlike structure. Two steps inside the store’s door, Annelise stopped. Cash bumped into her.

  “Whoa, Annie. What are you doing?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this place.”

  “Not quite what you’re used to?”

  She shook her head.

  Milk, vegetables, saddles, clothing, camping gear. Everything tossed haphazardly together inside four walls. Deer and antelope heads mounted on the walls stared at her from glassy eyes. Snake skins, tacked between them, slithered down the walls. A huge stuffed buffalo stood inside the door to her right. She almost laughed, thinking of the doorman at Tiffany’s. Stuffed shirts, both of them.

  The scent of overripe bananas and leather mixed. Somewhere toward the back, a baby cried. An old-fashioned cash register rang, and a country tune blared from wall-mounted speakers.

  She didn’t doubt for an instant the place had just about everything. From the worn, gray linoleum tiles to the wagon-wheel chandeliers overhead, the place spoke of age. Sadler’s had been here a long time and was, no doubt, a Maverick Junction institution.

  And here she was. By choice. Doing exactly what she wanted. A heady, foreign sensation rushed through her. I’m free. Finally and truly free. Judged by what I do, not who I am.

  Cash ruffled her hair, then grabbed a cart and headed for the grocery section. Annelise tossed in a quart of milk, a loaf of bread, and some apples. Unsure what she needed, she walked up and down the aisles, adding random items: coffee, soap, and a couple of frozen meals.

  “I want to look at the paint.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You’re the CEO. You call the shots and run the show.” He turned the cart and headed to the paint display.

  She didn’t follow.

  He looked over his shoulder. “What?”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said…” His brow creased. “For Christ’s sake, Annie, what’s wrong? You look like somebody sucked out every drop of your blood. You’re white as a sack of flour.”

  He left the cart and started toward her.

  She put up a hand and started walking. “I’m okay. I just—I thought—” Get a grip. It was a figure of speech. She was the CEO in charge of the shopping trip. Period. Cash didn’t have a clue who she was. But he would. Her heart skipped a beat. Would he hate her for deceiving him? What a mess. And this one was hers to clean up.

  “I’m fine. Honest.” Forcing a smile, she said, “Lead on.”

  Two aisles over, they found the paint. So many colors and brands. She put her hands on her hips and gawked at them all, trying to take them in. How many shades of red and blue could there be? Sheepishly, she faced Cash.

  “I know this is going to sound, well, ungrateful, maybe even unfriendly, but I really want to pick the colors by myself—without anyone else’s input.” She shook her head. “Don’t tell me which ones you like or make comments about any of the samples I pick up. Okay?”

  “I’m good with that.” He grinned. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  He pushed his hat back, giving her a better view of those fabulous eyes. “Is this your first home, Annie? Your first time on your own?”

  “And how.”

  His smile disappeared, his eyes darkened. “Now don’t go getting your back all up in the air, but it’s pretty obvious something’s going on with you. Something you think Maverick Junction can fix.”

  “I—”

  He held up his hand. “None of my business. Unless I’m harboring a fugitive—or took a married woman out to dinner. Danced with her.”

  Fugitive? The word echoed in her mind. God, was she a fugitive? No. She was twenty-six years old. Nothing illegal about her leaving home without checking in with her parents first. Most women her age had moved out on their own years ago, were married with childr
en or career women.

  But her parents might have the police searching for her, despite her assurances she was fine. Despite Sophie’s call.

  Her forehead creased as her anxiety grew.

  “You are married.”

  She almost laughed. How typically male to head there first.

  “No. I’m not married nor have I ever been married.” She raised her hand in pledge. “So help me God.”

  Douglas DeWitt’s face flashed across her mind, but she stomped on it and squashed it as quickly as she had that huge black spider that scuttled across the stable floor today. She shivered. Douglas was her parents’ choice for her, never hers.

  Determined to put away those thoughts, she concentrated on the rainbow of colors. She pulled one sample, then another, replacing some, adding others to her stack.

  “Hate to spoil your fun, darlin’, but the store’s gonna close in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh, no!” She thrust the samples at him. “Why don’t you take these out to the car, and I’ll finish up here?” She still needed undies and a few other things, and she’d rather he wasn’t hanging over her shoulder while she made her choices. What she’d brought with her really wasn’t appropriate for ranch work.

  He chuckled. “You want to get rid of me.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “For a bit, yes.”

  “I’ll take these and go on over to talk to Vern while you finish up.” He tucked the paint chips into his shirt pocket. “I’ll keep an eye open, and once you’re checked out, I’ll drive you home.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Hey.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Sugar, you need to stop worrying so much about what other people think. You’re stocking up. You’d like a little privacy. Want to sneak in some Twinkies or some Ben and Jerry’s. Got that. No skin off my nose, Annie.”

  She nodded.

  “I offered to bring you.” He leaned a little closer. “And I enjoyed dinner. Enjoyed dancing. Enjoyed watching you shop.” He turned her loose. “Now finish up. You don’t have much time left.”

  Whistling some silly song, one thumb hooked in his jeans pocket, he strolled toward the butcher.

  Hurrying up and down the aisles, she tossed a package of Hanes Her Way panties into the cart. Added an ugly, utilitarian cotton bra. Some socks. A muumuu-style cover-up that could serve as a robe. And all the while, her mind was in disbelief mode. What would her mother think? Buying her unmentionables in a store with dead animals on the wall and bins of potatoes and fragrant onions.

  Oh, boy. Best not to go there.

  Thing was, she hadn’t come prepared to work. Hadn’t really thought this whole thing out very well. She’d brought along the essentials, but her Harley’s saddlebags weren’t stocked for this new life. Having never done anything like this before, she’d seriously misjudged.

  And now, she’d rectify that.

  One thing for sure, though. If she intended to spend her days in the barn, she needed boots. No doubt they were lurking around here somewhere. Scanning the aisles, she figured if they made it, Sadler’s carried it.

  Sure enough, she found a display of beautiful leather cowboy boots. Or, in her case, cowgirl boots. Not at all what she’d worn on her feet at the fancy equestrian school her mother had insisted she attend.

  Now, she needed to thank her for that. She loved horses, loved riding—and she was good at it.

  Annelise ran her fingers over the tooled leather, marveling at the intricacy. Then she remembered what she’d be doing when they were on her feet and decided the boots really didn’t need to be pretty. They needed to fit well and protect her feet.

  As she tried on several pairs, guilt again seeped into her head. Strangely enough, she didn’t feel guilty for hightailing it halfway across the country without telling her family. In this case, the end did justify the means. She’d come to Texas to try to save her grandfather’s life. Let everyone else sit on their butts. She didn’t intend to. She didn’t worry, either, about any of the obligations she’d walked away from. None of them had been of her choosing.

  But deceiving Cash? That gnawed at her. Being dishonest with him didn’t sit well. So open and honest himself, when he found out who she was, how would he react?

  Badly. Without a doubt. He’d feel duped, taken advantage of. And she couldn’t blame him.

  She thought of the paint chips in his pocket. Lovely jewel colors. But would she be here long enough to get them up on her walls?

  Hard to tell.

  First and foremost, she had to track down her grandfather’s half sister, a woman who would probably hate her on sight—if the rumors she existed were true. Then would come the persuading, convincing this stranger whom the family had turned its back on that she should help them.

  This trip, though, had provided an unexpected bonus, something Annelise hadn’t even considered. She realized, now, how important this undertaking was for her. How vital to have an identity divorced of her family name and money, even if only for a short while.

  Picking up another boot, she sighed. She wanted to stay here for a while. She had such wonderful plans for Dottie’s upstairs apartment.

  Tomorrow, she’d stop at LeRoy’s Used Furniture and buy the comfortable, stretch-out-on-me couch she’d spotted in the display window. Maybe she’d even check out the Sew and Save for some splashy fun fabric for cushions. Of course, then, she’d have to find someone who could sew. Maybe Dottie knew someone who could help her.

  Yes, she was being hypocritical. She accepted that. While she cursed the responsibility of her money, she admitted to being shallow enough to enjoy the comfort it could provide. But it had been a long time since she’d been so excited about anything. Her chest tightened, and her fingers crushed the boots she held. She couldn’t give up on this chance for a little freedom. This was her opportunity to find herself. It was her life. Why shouldn’t she decide how she’d live it?

  Maybe she could do both herself and her grandfather a favor here in the Lone Star State.

  *

  Half an hour later, Cash pulled up in front of her new home. Grabbing bags, he headed up the steps, taking them two at a time. The man had energy to burn, Annelise thought.

  She scooped up the last two bags from the backseat and trudged behind him. Her muscles ached, reminding her she’d shoveled barn stalls all day. She didn’t know what Cash had done today, but he hadn’t mucked stalls.

  As the cashier’d rung up her purchases, she’d been appalled at the total. She hadn’t bought that much. Hadn’t bought anything that was really fun. Again, the reality of how sheltered her life had been hit home. She’d never grocery-shopped. Never had to be concerned with the basics. Someone—one of the staff—simply made certain those things were always there, always available.

  And these basics had taken a healthy nip out of her piggy bank tonight. Well, she was a working girl now. Eventually, she’d recoup her expenses.

  Except she really wouldn’t be here that long, would she?

  At the top of the outside steps, Cash moved to one side while she unlocked her door, then moved into the small kitchen area and dumped everything on the counter. Her laundry, neatly folded, lay on her table beside a small plate of Dottie’s wonderful homemade cookies. Smack on top of the pile were her bra and panties.

  Cash’s gaze traveled over her lingerie, and he grinned. With one finger, he hooked her bra strap, dangled it. “Very nice.”

  She snatched it from him and picked up the pile of clothes, hugging it to her chest. Heat radiated from her face, and she gave him her boardroom stare. “I like it.”

  “Bet you do.” Unfazed, he snitched a cookie and took a huge bite. “Mmmmm, mmmm. Can’t beat these, can you?” Then, scanning the cramped space, he asked, “You good to go now?”

  “Yes. I think I have everything I need. Thank you.”

  “Lock up behind me.”

  Her brows rose. “Is there much crime here?”

  “In Maverick Junction?
” He laughed. “Nah. But just the same, when you’re here alone, it wouldn’t hurt to throw the lock.”

  She nodded. Throw the lock. If he only knew. Her everyday life revolved around elaborate security systems, video cams, and ever-present bodyguards.

  Not anymore. She was on her own now. For the short-term. But she would take his advice. No sense being stupid.

  “Dottie doesn’t.”

  “I know. She should. I’ve told her that.”

  After setting her laundry back onto the table, lingerie-side down, she followed him to the door. He opened it and paused to give her a quick, friendly peck on the cheek.

  She turned her head at that instant, and his lips missed their mark, landing squarely on her mouth.

  Both pulled away as if burned, and she stepped back. Their eyes met and locked. Heat swept through Annelise; her breasts felt heavy. The man was potent!

  His voice gravelly, Cash said, “Night, Annie.” Without another word or a second’s hesitation, he hurried down the stairs and into the night.

  Annelise laid her fingers over her lips. Her tingling lips. Innocent. Accidental. The kiss had meant nothing. So why was her heart racing?

  His car door opened, closed. The Caddy’s big engine roared to life, drowning out the cicadas’ incessant chirping.

  Leaning against the stair railing, she watched his red taillights disappear into the darkness. He’d given her a job, helped her find a place to live, then spent his entire evening taking her to dinner and grocery shopping. Who was this man?

  Used to people doing for her, she understood this was innately different. This was personal—and Cash Hardeman was very good at it. Good at making her feel welcome. Special.

  With those skills, he’d do well in the boardroom—far better than she. He’d have everyone eating out of his hand. And at stuffy, formal dinner parties? Closing her eyes, Annelise breathed in the heavy night air. Oh, yeah. She could see him. A tailor-made tux that fit his muscular build to perfection, his black Stetson, and his cowboy boots. And a smile with dimples sure to dazzle every woman within a sixty-mile radius. Her most of all.