Texas Fandango: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 3 (3 page)

But what if he was wrong?

A bolt of lust stabbed his gut. KC was every man’s walking sex dream. Big blue eyes. Sexy, long blonde hair. Legs that went on forever. Curves perfect for a pin-up model.

Could Leo be right? Was Drake deaf and blind in addition to stupid? Had he really missed some overt signals from KC? Good Lord. Had fate finally removed any obstacles and he missed his chance?

He threw enough money on the table to cover his tab and headed over to the offices of Montgomery and Montgomery, Attorneys at Law.

“Sorry,” the office receptionist said. “KC has left for the weekend. Do you want to leave her a message?”

Drake debated. “No, I’ll just try to reach her at home.”

“Okay, but good luck finding her.” The friendly receptionist smiled. “It’s Friday and sunny. She’ll probably be on hole four at Whispering Springs Country Club by now. You sure you don’t want to leave a message for Monday morning?” She held out a pad of paper and a pen.”

“Thanks, but Monday will be too late. I’ll run her down.”

Whispering Springs was large enough to have a nice country club but small enough that everybody knew where everybody else lived. Thank goodness. If KC had lived in Dallas, he’d have never found her house on Shady Grove Road. But a quick look at a phone book and he was headed over.

The drive from her office to her house was short, only about ten minutes, but the route took him from what would pass as urban in Whispering Springs to a tree-lined, rural-feeling narrow road that ran alongside the ninth fairway. The trees had been there long before the construction and the developer had wisely left them in place. Long limbs stretched up and over the road forming a green canopy that let only filtered light through. He remembered the area from his teen years, only back then it’d been fields and dirt roads. He smiled at the memory of the perfect make-out spots.

Her house stood behind an honest-to-God white picket fence, along with four other houses. The homes were all on small lots and shared a view of the eighth fairway and green.

He turned into the parking area and found the covered area for 1006 Shady Grove Road, KC’s house. Her antique car was parked in the designated owner’s spot. He parked next to it and got out. For a man of thirty-six, he was surprised at how his heart jittered with nerves.

A small white picket gate led into her yard, which was a riot of flowers and blooming bushes. Red, pink, yellow and white flowers swayed in the afternoon breeze. Her front porch and railings, painted white to coordinate with the fence, supported hanging fern baskets. The bright-yellow front door beckoned visitors to knock, so he did.

After a couple of minutes of no answer, he knocked again and then rang her bell. Seems her receptionist was right. KC must have headed to the golf course.

“What are you doing here?”

Drake whipped around at the question and his gaze lowered. KC stood there at the base of the porch steps, a small ball of multi-colored fluff on a lead dancing at her feet. Her long legs extended from a pair of tan shorts. Her T-shirt proclaimed
I’m A Lawyer, So Sue Me.
Gathered at the top of her head, a long blonde ponytail hung past her shoulders, its individual strands floating in the afternoon breeze. A healthy pink glow colored her face.

This woman…this beautiful woman had a thing
for him
?

His circulatory system shunted all his blood to his groin, which swelled with interest and desire.

“Drake? What are you doing here?” she repeated.

For an additional second, he reconsidered why he’d come. What if Leo had been wrong? Crap. What if he made a total fool of himself?

He cleared his throat. “Do you have a minute? I thought we could talk.”

She picked up the wiggling dog and cocked her head. “About what? You pretty much made your position clear at Leo’s.”

He walked down the porch steps to where she stood on her walkway. “Yeah, about that. I need to apologize.” He tapped the side of his head. “Brain fog.”

“Great,” she said with fake enthusiasm. “Apology accepted.” She swept past him and climbed onto her porch.

“Wait.” He followed her. “What’s his name?” he asked, stroking her dog’s head.

The puppy squirmed in her arms. Drake leaned over and the animal licked his nose.


Her
name is Killer,” KC said.

“Can I?” Drake held out his hands to take the puppy.

KC passed her over.

“Killer? Why, this little lady doesn’t look like a killer.” He nuzzled the dog’s fur. The puppy darted her pink tongue out and tickled his face with tiny licks.

“You’re just lucky I don’t give the command to kill. She’d rip your lips right off your face.”

He chuckled. “You mean lick my lips right off my face, right?”

She sighed and opened her door. “C’mon in, I guess. If you insist.”

Killer—Drake had serious doubts that was the dog’s real name—and he followed KC into the house. They stood in the foyer as she unclipped the dog’s leash.

“You don’t have to hold her. She’s done her business outside so she can run around.”

He set the tiny bundle on the floor. “What breed is she?”

“Yorkie. She turned six months old last week. Want something to drink?”

“Just water. I’ve had my beer quota for today.” They turned to the right and he followed her into a large, bright kitchen.

“I haven’t.” She pulled a bottle of beer and a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

“Nice place,” he said, taking the water and allowing his gaze to roam. The hardwood floor from the entry continued here. The dark gold and black granite countertops were set off by the glossy white of the cabinets. The black appliances complimented the black swirl in the granite.

The area behind the sink opened up on the dining room just beyond it. Through that large opening, there was an expansive view of a golf fairway.

She shrugged at his comment. “Let’s go to the living room and you can tell me really why you’re here.”

He followed her through the adjacent dining room and then down three steps to a sunken living room. The room had a back circular wall comprised completely of glass, providing the view of the golf course he’d admired from the kitchen. He realized that the sunken room kept the incredible view available to anyone in the kitchen or the dining room.

She dropped into a plush off-white leather recliner. Killer—that just couldn’t be this dog’s name—followed them, her nails clicking faintly on the hardwood. As soon as KC sat, the puppy stood on her hind legs to be picked up, which KC did. She stroked the dog’s head, sat back and waited.

A large, butter-yellow overstuffed leather sofa beckoned to him. He sat and took a large gulp of water. First to dilute the beer floating around in his gut. Second, to put some moisture in his mouth and down his throat, both of which had turned to dust the minute he saw KC standing on her walk. And third, to buy him some time as he tried to find the words he wanted to say.

KC waved her hand in a get-on-with-it gesture. He nodded.

“Leo said—”

“Oh God. Leo sent you here?” she snarled. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Don’t kill him yet. He sort of knocked me upside the head and rattled my brain enough that what you said this afternoon finally sank through my thick skull. You really want to go with me to the Sand Castle?”

She dropped her head against the headrest. “Great. Just freaking great. You have rattled brains, and because of that you’ve come to see me.”

He laughed. “Not exactly.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. His movement caught the attention of the puppy, who jumped down and ran over to him. The ball of furry energy danced around his feet and Drake picked her up. If she weighed a pound, he’d be shocked. The puppy wiggled and climbed up to his face, again smearing it with her puppy tongue.

“Traitor,” KC said.

“Me or Killer? And what is her name? It isn’t Killer.” He nuzzled his nose on the puppy’s head. “This baby isn’t a killer of anything.”

“Ha! You haven’t seen the heel of my leather boot.”

He grinned.

“Her name is Jasmine. I call her Jazz.”

At the mention of her name, the puppy’s head snapped toward her owner and she immediately began struggling to get down. Drake set Jazz on the floor and she scurried to KC, who shook her head and picked her up.

“She’s rotten,” she said, but there was no fire behind her words.

Drake leaned back on the sofa and crossed an ankle over a knee. “Okay, as I was saying, do you want to go with me on vacation? You sort of caught me off-guard this afternoon, and I’m sorry for being so slow on the uptake. I’d love for you to come with me.” He drained the remaining water and set the empty bottle on the side table. “But you need to know that I reserved a one-bedroom suite. I’ll sleep on the couch, you don’t have to worry. You can have the bed.”

KC set the puppy down and leaned forward. “You’re asking me to go with you on vacation?”

“Yep. My treat.”

“And you’re not going to make me sleep with you?”

He shrugged and made himself maintain eye contact when what he wanted to do was look anywhere but at her. Damn. Her voice was a little tight and high with that last question. Now what had he done wrong? He didn’t think he’d ever understand women.

“Right.” He dragged the word out. “No obligation.”

She drained her beer. The empty bottle dangled from the tips of her fingers. The side of her cheek sucked as she rolled it between her teeth.

“So no sex. That’s what you’re saying? I just want to make sure there are no misunderstandings this time.”

He nodded. “Sure.”

She echoed his nod and then set her bottle on the floor. “Well then, in that case, no.”

His head popped back. “What?”

Leaning toward him, she said, “No sex, no trip.”

This time, he swallowed hard. Crossed and uncrossed his legs. Adjusted his position on the sofa. “Explain exactly what you’re saying. Use small words and short sentences. I don’t think my mind is hearing correctly this afternoon.”

“Here’s the deal, Doc. I want a vacation with the five S’s. Sand. Surf. Sun. Spa. And sex.” She leaned back in her chair. “And not necessarily in that order.”

“So you
want
to sleep with me?”

“I want a two-week torrid, scorching-hot affair. No holds barred. Then, we walk away. No harm. No foul. Those are my terms.” She stared into his eyes. “Take it or leave it.”

Chapter Three

A slight tremor shook KC’s hands as she waited for his reply. If the shocked look on his face was any indication, her response hadn’t been exactly what he was expecting, but damn, she wanted what she wanted. She’d survive a “thanks, but no thanks.” Sure, she’d disappear through her lovely hardwood floor with sheer humiliation, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

For once, timing was on her side. After Magda had dropped her bombshell at Leo’s today, Drake was vulnerable, sort of like that lawyer she’d taken apart this week. The long hours of work on that case had paid off for the client and her firm. Both had received a nice chunk of change, and now KC was overdue some time off.

Plus, she was only asking for a two-week commitment. Sure, she’d love more, but she’d build enough memories in those two weeks to get her through future down times.

He picked up his water bottle, realized it was empty and replaced it on the table. He drew in a deep breath, rubbed the palm of his hand across his mouth, rubbed his neck and then shifted on the couch cushion.

“Don’t you want to know when this trip is?”

“I know. It was on the envelope you flashed.” She smiled. “Reading upside down is one of my superpowers. You’re leaving on Tuesday for Sugar Island, which is in the Caribbean near the Virgin Islands. I looked it up when I got home out of curiosity. I don’t know the return date, but I assume it’ll be two weeks later since you mentioned a two-week vacation.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs to keep them from visibly shaking. She hoped the image she was projecting was secure, sexually confident woman and not nervous eighth-grader asking for a date to a girl-ask-boy dance. “How am I doing?”

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Pretty good,” he said with a nod.

“So, Dr. Gentry. Take my offer or leave it?”

“I’ll take it with one condition.”

“Okay. What?” Her stomach cramped with nerves as she waited for his condition.

“You don’t try to pay me for the tickets or the hotel. Everything is already paid for so this is my treat. But you do have to pay for dinner at least once.”

She fought a giddy laugh that wanted to bubble out of her mouth. “Deal.” She extended her hand toward him and then pulled it back. “One more condition.”

He lifted an eyebrow in question.

“I know our taking a vacation together won’t upset Olivia. I mean, we’ve already talked about how she feels about Mitch. But it’d probably be smart if we kept this just between us. Not that we’re doing anything wrong,” she hurried to add. “It’s just that her brothers are little overly protective of her and me and I don’t want them to think you took advantage of me.” She grinned. “After all, I’m the one taking advantage of you.”

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