Tex Times Ten Read online

  “Who grabbed you?”

  “The women from the other two salons.”

  Oh. Her rivals. Hannah’s stylist sisters. “Most men don’t complain about women wanting them, Tex. Is there a problem you want to share?”

  “No,” he said, his voice tense. “It’s what they want to do with me that’s the problem.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Raffle me. And my brothers. My brothers are going to kill me, because I agreed. But there was just so much pressure, Cissy!”

  He was starting to sound better now that he was putting voice to his anxiety. Cissy crawled up in her bed and leaned against the headboard. “What kind of pressure?” Although she could imagine, since he was a gorgeous guy.

  “I don’t know. Pressure!”

  “I have to take a report to Marvella, Tex. You go sleep off your pressure, okay? I think you’ll be fine in the morning.” She should have known that the only reason he’d ever ring her phone was if he was three sheets to the wind and heading downstream fast.

  “Cissy, listen to me. This is really all your fault.”

  “Mine?”

  “Yes. Because you told my brother that Bloodthirsty Black pulled left, when he didn’t. Laredo could have been killed!”

  “He could have been killed, anyway, since he couldn’t ride a bull. How is that my fault?”

  “Because you work for the wicked witch. And Hannah suggested a cowboy raffle to get you out of your contract. Only Marvella turned down the idea, and now the other salons have picked it up. And I got roped into taking part.”

  “You wouldn’t want to be on this salon’s team, Tex. It’s definitely not the team of good sportswomanship.”

  “I know. And what will happen if I get won? Have you ever considered that, Miss Kisserton?”

  “Oh,” she said. “You’re figuring that someone in this salon might buy you.”

  “Marvella,” he said, sounding squeaky. “I mean, what if?”

  She laughed. “I don’t think she wants you, cow boy.”

  “She might. To ride BadAss Blue for her. Or some other enslavement. Think, Cissy. I could end up dancing on her hot tub wearing nothing more than a pair of jeans! Or she might make me be a butler for an evening, her personal boy-toy.”

  “The possibilities are endless,” Cissy said. “But I think you’re overrating your appeal.” Actually, he wasn’t, but Cissy wasn’t going to reward his vanity or his paranoia.

  A knock on her door made her jump. “Who is it?”

  “Marvella.”

  “Hang on,” she whispered to Tex. “Marvella wants to talk to me. Come in,” she called.

  Her nemesis walked in, dressed in a conservative navy-blue dress, her white hair piled high and iron-sprayed. “I’ve been waiting for the report.” She eyed Cissy’s clothing with approval, and then the phone Cissy was holding with disapproval.

  “I’m sorry. I got an unexpected phone call. Fifty customers downstairs, including the mayor and a police captain from the town over. Drink tab is up by fifty percent. And the cowgirl-loving ship captain is back, paying court to Valentine. He likes her phone-voice so much he hasn’t yet figured out she can’t ride a horse.”

  “Good.” Marvella nodded. “Who are you talking to?”

  Cissy swallowed. “Tex Jefferson.”

  “Excellent.” Her voice turned soft and cooing. “Please tell Tex I say hello. And that I’m so hoping he’ll ride BadAss Blue for me at this month’s Mayfest. I’m also thinking of doing a children’s petting zoo, if he can think of some animals I could rent for the event.”

  Cissy’s jaw went slack. “I told you,” Tex said in her ear. “She’ll think of a way to use and abuse me!”

  “I’ll tell him, Marvella,” Cissy said.

  Marvella smiled. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” She waited until Marvella closed the door. “Now, don’t get all wadded up,” she told Tex.

  “Oh, no, I have no reason to be wadded. But this is your fault.”

  She gasped. “Nothing is my fault!”

  “You told Laredo that Bloodthirsty cranked left, which caused me to have to get involved, and now Marvella wants me. And if she gets the chance to win me, I’m toast.”

  “You have toast between your ears. It’s simply not as bad as you paint it. So you’ll ride a bull. That’s not exactly a stretch for you.”

  “But I don’t want to ride for Marvella anymore,” Tex said. “It hurts Delilah’s feelings. She doesn’t say so, but I feel uneasy. And I’ve learned to pay attention to my uneasy feelings.”

  Delilah owned the salon across the street, and the two sisters stayed at each other’s throats. Marvella accused Delilah of stealing Marvella’s husband many years ago, but Cissy privately thought Marvella’s meanness had probably run her husband off. “I think Delilah understands the situation.”

  “I’m not going to do it,” Tex said suddenly. “I refuse to take part in this charity event.”

  “Have it your way. It’s no big loss, I’m sure. I have to go,” she told him. “Thanks for calling. I think.” Actually, she was a little miffed that he’d only called to cry on her shoulder.

  She wanted him to call her because he wanted to talk to her. Really talk to her. Not just wheeze. Even though she felt like wheezing about Marvella herself.

  “Okay. I just needed to hear you say that ducking out on a charity event was all right.”

  “It’s fine. You have given yourself permission to be a weasel. Good night.” And she hung up the phone.

  But five hours later, when Cissy was sound asleep in her bed, something sat on her feet. Something large. She let out a shriek and struggled to sit up.

  “Sh,” the something large said. “It’s Tex.”

  “What are you doing?” she demanded furiously, though she was greatly relieved to know it was Tex and not a patron of Marvella’s. “How did you get into my room?”

  “We’ll discuss terms of entry later,” he said.

  “Right now, I’ve got to talk to you.”

  She switched on her side-table lamp, tucking in a startled breath when she got a look at the gorgeous man sitting on her feet. Hot enough to radiate his own heat. And yet, she didn’t dare melt for him again. “Could you get off of me?” she asked.

  He didn’t move. Instead, he handed her a white box. “Wedding cake. Hannah commissioned me to courier this to you. Actually, she also told me the secret to getting into Rapunzel’s ivory tower. Of course she wasn’t expecting me to drop in on you in your sleep, but I prefer the thrill of surprise.” He handed her some wedding napkins that had Ranger’s and Hannah’s names entwined in burgundy, and a rose he’d swiped from the table decorations. “Now, this is a rose,” he said. “This I envy. But I give it to you. And I’ll stop with the brownnosing there.”

  “Oh,” Cissy said, taking the box and the rose and trying to ignore the fact that she was slightly mollified. “Thank you. I mean, tell Hannah I said thank you, although not for telling you how to breach the tower,” she said, regaining the stiffness in her voice just to let him know he was not forgiven for breaking in. She allowed her gaze to run swiftly over him, drinking him in though she faked disinterest. “Now, could you get off me?”

  Tex stared at her, his eyes dark in the lamplight.

  Her heart began pounding. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that was lust burning in his gaze. “Here.” She thrust the cake box at him. “Please put that on my dresser over there.”

  The second he got up to do it, Cissy leaped out of the bed and grabbed her robe, tossing it on and tying it tight. “I should scream for security.” She frowned as she put the rose in a silver vase that sat on her dresser.

  “Do you ever plan on telling Marvella that you’re married?” Tex asked after a long perusal of her silvery satin bathrobe. “Not that it matters or anything, in the overall scenario, but I wondered if you ever planned on telling anyone the truth, besides Hannah.”

  “Whose business is it
?” Cissy crossed her arms.

  “Well, that’s the funny thing,” Tex said, pushing back his cowboy hat as he stared down at her. “I’ve decided to make it mine, Mrs. Kisserton.”

  Chapter Two

  “Well, that’s the even funnier thing,” Cissy said, fixing a gaze on Tex that seemed angry and amused all at once. God, he loved a woman with attitude. “I got a phone call today from the chief of police in our small town. My husband was sort of…located.”

  Tex’s heart slid south. Maybe he’d quit breathing.

  Then he told himself to buck up and focus. What did he care that some loser of Cissy’s was still around? “Yeah? So where’s he been?”

  She pursed her lips at him in a thoughtful expression, and he had to admit the expression made him thoughtful, too.

  “He’s been in a lake, wearing specially fitted diving gear.”

  Tex frowned, and Cissy sighed. “He’d been tossed in with chains. Apparently, he’d been shot first, and then the culprits weighted his body so it wouldn’t be found. And not much of it was, I guess. Nothing identifiable without multiple lab tests, anyway.”

  “I’m sorry.” His arms hung at his side, feeling useless as oak trees. “Can I do something for you?”

  “Like maybe call before you drop in?” Cissy asked. “I generally prefer to have advance notice from visitors.”

  He scratched his neck. “Not to be heavy-handed, but you don’t seem all that broken up about being widowed.”

  She stared at him. “Tex, my marriage was unusual. It was a marriage of convenience for both of us. I would be a politically appealing wife, and he’d take care of my three younger siblings and their children, and me, and Gran. But that’s not exactly how it all worked out, obviously, or I wouldn’t have signed a contract with Marvella. When I came to Lonely Hearts Station, I hadn’t seen him in two years.” Her whole demeanor said, That’s my story—I don’t care if you like it or not. “The money is good, and my family eats.”

  He couldn’t believe his ears. “Your marriage wasn’t real?”

  She raised her brows at him. “As real as anyone else’s. Oh, you’re asking the indelicate question.”

  He could feel his neck turn red, but yeah, he was all for asking indelicate questions if she’d answer them. Curiosity and burning hope lay deep in his heart. Maybe she hadn’t loved the guy. Maybe she wasn’t in true mourning, which would require him to give her breathing space, for a long time, to put her marriage and her feelings about her husband—

  Whoa, Nelly. He stopped his thoughts with a hard jerk. “No,” he said, his voice hard, “I’m not asking any indelicate questions.”

  “Really? Because I could have sworn you were—”

  “Well, I wasn’t.” But he had been.

  Once Hannah had slipped and mentioned that Cissy was married, he’d had to know why Cissy had made love with him in the barn two months ago, an experience he couldn’t get out of his head. It was so unlike him—and his brothers would be amazed if they suspected. “It’s none of my business. Why would I care?”

  They stared at each other, belligerence on both their faces. Then Cissy broke eye contact and went to the box he’d brought, lifting the top so she could see inside. “So, did you slither under the door?”

  He didn’t bother to answer. Lamplight from the side table backlit her, and he could make out curves under the robe and gown. Not that he hadn’t seen plenty of Cissy’s curves. Anyone who looked at her got an eyeful. Slippery and graceful under the icy satin, those curves made his throat dry out and his heart jump in his chest. A part of his body south of his heart jumped, too, staying in an arrested position, like a freeze-frame of a basketball player going to the hoop.

  She stuck a finger into the icing and put it in her mouth, turning to see why he wasn’t answering her question and immediately guessed his thoughts.

  He expected her to flush, but she didn’t. She just acted as if she didn’t care.

  Which he found vaguely disappointing.

  “Back to slithering,” she said.

  “I won’t tell you how I got in, but it wasn’t difficult.” Not nearly as difficult as trying to figure out what it was exactly that he felt for Cissy. Obviously, he hadn’t expected to have the urge to toss her in bed and take her as if there was never going to be a tomorrow.

  “Oh, come on. Tell me. If you do, I’ll be sure to double-block that entrance,” she said, her tone wheedling, as if she were offering him something he wanted.

  She knew very well he wasn’t going to tell her. “Should I say I’m sorry about your husband?” he asked. “Pretend that I have good manners?”

  Her aquamarine eyes settled on him. “Are you sorry?”

  “Yeah. I get the feeling you’ve been through enough.”

  With a sigh, she tucked a strand of silvery hair behind her ear. “I’m just Miss Kisserton. That’s my maiden name. I didn’t use my husband’s name after I came to work for Marvella. I didn’t want any reminders of what kind of life he was living. According to the police, it was high-dollar drugs and glamorous parties. Parties at which I was often the unsuspecting hostess. Believe me, my skin creeps when I think about my own part in what was going on.” She looked at him sadly. “I should have guessed, but I was so busy concentrating on being the perfect wife and hostess that I didn’t pay attention to what now seems obvious.”

  He waited, realizing she wanted to talk.

  “I feel very guilty about that,” she murmured. “I wish I’d known. I’d never have married him.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I tell myself that.” She replaced the lid and went to sit on the bed. “But it doesn’t help.”

  With her guard down, Cissy looked like a young girl. Innocent, fragile and beautiful. The combination packed a powerful punch.

  She looked up at him. “I learned my lesson about rescues. There’s no such thing as a handsome prince.”

  “I believe you,” he agreed. “I think there’s no such thing as a handsome princess.”

  She laughed at him. “Do you need rescuing?”

  “Nah. Occasionally my brothers get on my nerves, but I can handle them.” He tore his gaze away from her, telling himself that it would be easy to put the strange, unexpected feelings he was experiencing back inside their long-forgotten hiding place. “And I wouldn’t like a princessy kind of girl, anyway. I like trashy girls.”

  Her eyes rolled. “There are plenty on the premises. I’d be happy to find you one to talk to—”

  “No, no,” he said hastily. “It’s after hours and you’re off duty as a hostess. I’d better go.”

  She nodded at him. “All right.”

  He tipped his hat to her.

  “I’m very curious to see how you do this,” she said.

  “Do what?”

  “Leave. Since I have no idea how you got in.”

  “Oh.” He grinned. “Okay.”

  He unlocked her door, opened it and left.

  She jumped off the bed and jerked the door open, pulling him back inside.

  “A simple ‘please stay’ is sufficient,” Tex said.

  “You can’t let anyone see you!” Cissy said. Then she paused. “Do you want to? Stay?”

  “Do dogs have ears?” he demanded.

  She locked the door behind him. “I noticed that you were attracted to me, but I felt that was probably your standard reaction to any female in a bathrobe.”

  “Very likely,” he agreed, not missing the chance, while they were close, to smell her. Honeysuckle.

  “You don’t smell like a bad girl.”

  Her eyes widened. “Strange. You smell like a bad boy.”

  “And how is that?”

  She sniffed him as they stood against the door. “Leather. Aftershave. A beer or two. And…something I can’t quite name.”

  Leaning close, she smelled his neck. Her hair feathered against his collarbone and under his chin, and his erection returned full force.

  “Sex?” s
he asked, her eyes wide.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, sweeping her playfully into his arms.

  “No,” she said, pushing against his chest until she freed herself. “I think you smell sexy. Maybe manly is the word I’m searching for.”

  “I hope that’s a good thing,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. “If not, we could take a shower together.”

  She wrinkled her nose and pulled her hand away.

  “I don’t think so. Something tells me water conservation with you would be detrimental to my health.”

  For the moment, he forbore further wisecracking, since he was definitely experiencing resistance from her. He decided not to take it personally, considering they were two birds of a feather, and he felt like resisting her, too. “Okay, if I can’t leave the way I came in, how do you expect me to go?”

  “I don’t know.” She watched him as he snagged the cake box and sat on her bed. “What are you doing?”

  “Eating your un-wedding cake.” He lifted the lid and pulled out a hunting knife from his jacket pocket.

  She gasped. He glanced up.

  “Overkill, I know. But would you rather I use my fingers?” He cut a neat slice from the cake.

  A second later, she joined him on the bed. “You might as well cut me a piece, too. It doesn’t look as if you’re leaving anytime soon.”

  “Oh, I’m leaving, all right. I just need a sugar boost before I jump out your window. I’m not a superhero, you know.”

  He felt her stare at him in amazement, and he decided he liked having her attention on him like that.

  “Can you jump out a second-story window in your condition?” she asked.

  He hesitated in the act of handing her a slice of cake. “What condition? I’m in prime physical shape.”

  “Well—” She gestured toward his crotch, which was still distended from their close call by the door. When she’d drawn near to smell him, he’d definitely felt the impact.

  “Oh, that,” he said nonchalantly. “Don’t you worry about that. Sugar boost’ll take care of that in a flash.”

  “Really?”