“I don’t mess around for sport,” Lainey whispered. “When I kiss someone it means something.”

Brad leaned toward her intimately, looking sexy as hell. Every bit the intimidating bachelor he’d been on TV. “Maybe that’s the problem," he returned, grasping her by the shoulders. “Whenever I’ve kissed someone, it’s never once meant anything close to what it should.”

“What are you trying to say?” Lainey murmured, wishing she didn’t recall quite so vividly how passionately he’d kissed, or how tenderly he’d held her in his arms.

His gaze drifted over her. “It’s high time my kisses did mean something.”

He took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. She clung to him, kissing him back. Sensations swirled through her as his hands moved down her spine, working their magic.

The kiss turned sweeter, more tender. “Brad…we really shouldn’t do—”

“Do what?” he prompted lazily, kissing her again.

“This,” Lainey said, kissing him back.

When he finally let her go, she was so dizzy she could barely stand.

Dear Reader,

There is fiction, and there is real life, and when the two come together these days it is called “reality TV.” Like many of you, I have watched programs dealing with survival, business and home decorating. But it’s the programs about romance that fascinate me the most. Can someone really find the love of their life on a semiscripted TV show? Or is it all about the money and achieving fifteen minutes of fame?

I don’t know the answer to those questions, but I do know it was a heck of a lot of fun creating my own reality television show, Bachelor Bliss, and imagining what would happen if the ultimate Texas cowboy/ladies’ man, Brad McCabe, somehow got roped into signing up to appear on one.

I figured he wouldn’t find romance there. That would come later—after the experience of chasing fame and fortune had wreaked havoc on his life.

And I knew it wouldn’t be easy, either. True love never is. Which is why I paired Brad with an old high school classmate he had barely known existed. Someone with ambition of her own—journalistic ambition. For a private guy like Brad, that’s a worst-case scenario.

How did it all end? Well, to find that out, you’ll have to turn the page….

I hope you enjoy reading this romantic comedy as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you’d like to know more about this and other books, I invite you to visit my Web site at www.cathygillenthacker.com.

Happy reading!

Cathy Gillen Thacker

The Ultimate Texas Bachelor
Cathy Gillen Thacker

This book is dedicated to Joshua Douglas Gerhardt,

ultimate flirt and total heartbreaker.

Welcome to the family, little one.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Come on, Lainey. Have a heart! You can’t leave us like this!” Lewis McCabe declared as he pushed his eyeglasses farther up on the bridge of his nose.

Aside from the fact she was here under false pretenses—which she had quickly decided she couldn’t go through with, anyway—Lainey Carrington didn’t see how she could stay, either. The Lazy M ranch house looked like a college dorm room had exploded on moving day. Lewis needed a lot more than the live-in housekeeper he had been advertising for, to bring order to this mess.

Lainey studied the nerdiest—and most technologically brilliant—of Sam and Kate McCabe’s five grown sons and wondered how anyone so rich could still be so out of step with popular culture. Where had he gotten those clothes, anyway? From some 1980s-style shop?

“What do you mean us?” she asked suspiciously. Was Lewis married? If so, she hadn’t heard about it, but then her knowledge was spotty at best since she hadn’t actually lived in Laramie, Texas, since she left home for college ten years ago.

The door behind Lainey opened. She turned—and darn near fainted at the sight of the man she had secretly come here to track down.

Not that she had expected the six-foot-three cowboy, with the ruggedly handsome face and to-die-for body to actually be here. She had just hoped that Lewis would give her a clue where to look, so that she might help her friend Sybil Devine hunt the elusive Brad McCabe down and scrutinize the sexy Casanova celebrity in person.

“Brad, of course, who happens to be my business partner,” Lewis McCabe explained.

“Actually, I’m more of a ranch manager,” Brad McCabe corrected grimly, shooting an aggravated look at his younger brother. He knocked some of the mud off his scuffed, brown leather boots, then stepped into the interior of the sprawling half-century-old ranch house. “And I thought we had an agreement, Lewis, that you’d let me know when we were going to have company so I could avoid running into ’em.”

Lewis shot Lainey an apologetic glance. “Don’t mind him. He’s been in a bad mood ever since he got done filming that reality TV show.”

Lainey took the opportunity to gather a little background research. “Guess that didn’t exactly have the happily-ever-after ending everyone expected it to have,” she observed.

Brad’s jaw set. Clearly, he did not want her sympathy. “You saw it?”

Obviously he wished she hadn’t. Lainey shrugged, not about to admit just how riveted she’d been by the sight of Brad McCabe on her television screen. “I think everyone who knows you did.”

“Not to mention most of America,” Lewis chimed in.

Bachelor Bliss had pulled in very high ratings, especially at the end, when it had taken an unexpected twist. Which wasn’t surprising, given how sexy Brad had looked walking out of the ocean in a pair of swim trunks that had left very little to the imagination. He’d been equally appealing on the back of a horse, riding into the mountains at sunset, or dressed in a tuxedo while enjoying a night on the town.

The only thing she hadn’t liked was the sight of him kissing one pretty woman after another…and he had done an awful lot of that.

“You shouldn’t have wasted your time watching such bull,” Brad muttered, his scowl deepening as his voice dropped a self-deprecating notch. “And I know I shouldn’t have wasted mine filming it.”

Lainey agreed with him wholeheartedly there. Going on an artificially romantic TV show was no way to find a mate. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think they did right by you,” Lainey said.

Brad’s brow arched as if he dared her to go on.

Lainey gulped but held her ground. “The way they depicted you was not very flattering,” she continued bravely, knowing that if she was going to convince him to open up to her, he was first going to have to realize she did indeed believe he had gotten a raw deal. And more importantly, that she wanted him to be able to tell his side of things. Which, to date, he had not done.

“Gee.” His gaze clashed with hers. “You think?”

“I agree,” Lewis put in genially, seeming not to notice the sparks arcing between Brad and Lainey. “Those producers did make you look like a womanizing jerk with the attention span of a flea.”

Brad folded his arms over his chest, frustration coming off him in waves. “Maybe I am a womanizing jerk with the attention span of a flea,” he said.

Somehow, Lainey didn’t think so. For one thing, the McCabes—who were known for their honesty and integrity—would never have let him get away with that in real life. She knew he’d tried it as a kid, shortly after his family moved to Laramie, Texas, and had gotten reined in quickly, both by family and by the girls he had triple-timed. And for another thing, Brad had not appeared to be enjoying himself on the TV show as he tried to decide which of fifteen eligible women to take as his bride. Instead, he had seemed…impatient with the entire process. Restless. Except when with Yvonne Rathbone, the flame-haired beauty he had eventually paired up with. Then, he had seemed genuinely lovestruck. Until the end, anyway.

“And maybe you’re not,” Lainey countered calmly.

Not that her opinion was widely shared. Thanks to the brouhaha that had followed the finale of the eight Bachelor Bliss episodes featuring Brad McCabe, he had been a fixture in gossip columns and celebrity magazines. Everyone wanted to know why Brad had done what he had, but Brad wasn’t talking—at least not to the press.

And thus far, those close to him weren’t talking, either.

It was Lainey’s task to see what she could do about changing that, and letting the whole truth and nothing but the truth finally be known. Not that it looked to be easy.

She had heard from mutual acquaintances that Brad McCabe’s experience as the sought-after bachelor on Bachelor Bliss had turned him not just into persona non grata where the entire viewing public was concerned, but also into a hardened cynic. Judging by the scowl on his face and the unwelcoming light in his eyes as he swept off his straw cowboy hat and ran his fingers through his gleaming dark brown hair, that assumption seemed to be true.

The Brad McCabe that Lainey recalled from her youth had been two years ahead of her in school, cheerful and charming as could be. He had been more city kid than cowboy back then. Full of charm and life, always ready with a wink and a smile and a witty remark.

Now, he appeared ready to bite her head off. His brother’s, too, as Brad surveyed them both with shadowed, sable-brown eyes.

Lainey swallowed hard and tried not to notice how nicely the blue chambray shirt hugged his broad shoulders and molded to the sculpted muscles of his chest, before disappearing beneath the waistband of his worn, dark blue denim jeans.

“Not that I expected to see you out here, in any case,” Lainey continued truthfully, forcing her eyes away from his rodeo belt buckle and gazing back up at his face. “Since word is you’ve been hiding out from just about everyone.”

“I’m not hiding.” Brad looked ready to kick some Texas butt. Hers, specifically. “I’m getting on with my life. And there are plenty of people in Laramie who know exactly where to find me.”

Lainey shrugged as another shimmer of awareness sifted through her, weakening her knees. “The press can’t seem to locate you.”

“And that’s exactly the way it’s going to stay,” Brad enunciated clearly, looking deep into her eyes. “I have nothing to say to them.”

Which was a problem as far as Lainey was concerned, as she was currently trying to fulfill her long-held dream of becoming a reporter.

“Brad figures too much has been said about him as it is,” Lewis confided to Lainey. Lewis tried to adapt some of his older brother’s inherent cool as he slouched against a low wall of moving boxes, but instead he knocked several over. They tumbled to the scuffed wooden floor with a clatter. Lewis scrambled to pick them up while Brad, shaking his head in silent exasperation, leaned forward lazily to lend a hand. “The past is over,” Lewis continued. “He’s looking toward the future. Which is why he agreed to start up this ranch with me—”

“You have to pay in half to be a partner,” Brad interrupted, looking irritated again. “I haven’t done that. Therefore I’m the ranch manager.” Brad turned back to Lainey. He looked her up and down suspiciously, from the top of her carefully coiffed chin-length blond hair, to her casual suede slides. “And you are…?”

It shouldn’t have surprised Lainey Carrington that Brad McCabe didn’t recognize her. Brad was two years older than she was. It had been a good ten years since they had run into each other in the halls of Laramie High School. And she hadn’t been back to Laramie much in the last couple of years since her parents died.

She touched the strand of pearls around her neck. Wishing for some odd reason that she was wearing something other than the demure, pale blue sweater set and knee-length khaki skirt, she smiled. “I’m Lainey Carrington.”

To Lainey’s frustration, Brad still had no clue.

“When I was in high school I was known as Lainey Wilson,” Lainey explained. “Greta Wilson McCabe, who runs the Lone Star Dance Hall—”

“Our aunt by marriage.” Lewis beamed.

“Right.” Lainey nodded. “Well, Greta’s my cousin.”

“Lainey was one of the princesses on the Homecoming Court, when she was a senior and I was a freshman,” Lewis explained. “I remember because the dress you wore for the parade…”

Had caused quite a scandal. Lainey felt herself flush bright pink.

Brad looked at Lewis and lifted a brow, waiting for him to finish.

Lewis started stammering and staring at the toes of his Birkenstock sandals. Obviously, he wished he had never started the story.

Figuring she might as well own up to it—Brad McCabe was going to hear all about it later anyway—Lainey put in dryly, “Suffice it to say, the dress I chose for the festivities was a little too ‘adult’ for the occasion.” She had picked it up at a secondhand shop in nearby San Angelo that was run by the Junior League. The black velvet dress had been beautiful, no doubt about it, and at ten dollars, quite a steal. But the plunging neckline, short clinging skirt and five-inch stiletto heels had been more suited for a sophisticated cocktail party than a high-school football game.

Lainey had known this, of course, even as she had accepted a dare from her friends to wear it. She had worked to disguise the deep V neckline, front and back, with an embroidered white-and-black silky evening wrap that she had worn with movie-star grandeur. Until a strong gust of Texas wind had ripped it off her shoulders and under the wheels of the junior-class float behind her.

And there she had been, her décolletage exposed nearly to the waist for all the world to see. A terribly embarrassed Lainey had had no choice but to finish the parade, sans wrap. When the floats had reached the stadium, the entire Homecoming Court had been whisked off the backs of their borrowed convertibles and onto the football field for the crowning ceremony during the pre-game festivities. The principal, seeing Lainey being walked across the field by a gawking football player, had been apoplectic, as had many of the other parents, at the amount of cleavage exposed. Lainey’s equally ostentatiously dressed mother was the only one who hadn’t thought it a big deal.

“You got suspended for violating the school dress code, didn’t you?” Lewis asked.

Lainey nodded, her humiliation complete. She hadn’t thought about any of this since Chip Carrington had taken her under his wing and made sure she knew what suitable attire was. Ten years had passed and she’d never worn anything the slightest bit risqué since.

Brad threaded his way through the boxes and furniture stacked here and there, and made his way into the kitchen. He pulled a soda can out of the refrigerator, seemed to think about offering one to Lainey, then didn’t. Probably, she figured, because he didn’t want to give her an excuse to linger.

She watched as he popped the top.

Wordlessly, Lewis walked over to the fridge and got out two cans of blackberry-flavored soda. Lewis brought one back to Lainey, still talking to Brad over his shoulder. “The reason you probably don’t recall any of this is that you had already graduated from Laramie High School two years before, and gone on to…well…”

“Flunk out of college,” Brad said, finishing yet another sentence Lewis never should have started.

Visibly embarrassed, Lewis pushed his glasses up on his nose again. He shoved a hand through his spiky, light brown hair. “Yeah. Guess you two have that in common, since you both were always in trouble back then.”

Only because she hadn’t had the guidance she needed, Lainey thought resentfully. “Well, not anymore,” she said firmly. “I have an eight-year-old son now.” She was a pillar of the community in the Highland Park area of Dallas. Or at least she had been, until she had agreed to drive out to the Lazy M Ranch, to see what she could find out for her friend, Sybil.

Brad and Lewis both glanced at her left hand, checking out the wedding and engagement rings she had recently stopped wearing. “I lost my husband, Chip Carrington, two years ago.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Lewis said.

Lainey nodded, even as she noticed the flash of sympathy in Brad’s eyes that disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“That why you’re looking for a job as a housekeeper?” Brad asked with a look of utter male supremacy.

Lainey didn’t even want to consider what her blue-blooded in-laws, Bunny and Bart Carrington, would think about her taking a position as a domestic. Financially, she didn’t need to, thanks to Chip’s trust fund. Emotionally, intellectually…well, that was something else. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on living a life that didn’t even feel like her own. There were too many hours in a day, not nearly enough for her to do—and with her son, Petey, needing her less and less… Not that loneliness and boredom were any excuse for what Sybil had asked her to do, or offered in return, Lainey chided herself. Even if such action was the gateway to the career she had always yearned for and had never had the opportunity to go for. At least not yet.

Aware Brad was waiting for her answer, she said, “I’m not here to apply for a job.”

Suspicion hardened the ruggedly handsome features on Brad’s face. “Then what are you doing all the way out here?”

Sybil had been right—this man had turned into quite a handful. “I was on my way back from Laramie and heard Lewis had bought a ranch out here. So I thought I would stop by and say hello.”

“And yet you two were never friends,” Brad stated suspiciously.

Lewis glowered at Brad, then turned back to Lainey. “I’m glad you stopped by and I’d be even happier if you’d agree to help me out here. Forget him.” Lewis indicated Brad with a telling glare.

Brad stepped between Lainey and Lewis. He gave Lainey a slow, deliberate once-over that had Lainey’s pulse racing before addressing Lewis again. “I’m merely pointing out I think it’s mighty peculiar that Lainey here stopped by out of the blue. After what? Some ten years or so?”

“What are you insinuating?” Lainey asked coolly, her soda halfway to her mouth, not sure whether she was angrier with Brad or herself for getting into this predicament. Surely there was an easier story she could have started with to jump-start her career!

Brad flashed her a crocodile smile that didn’t begin to reach his battle-hardened eyes. “That Lewis is not what you are in search of.”

BRAD HAD BEEN HOPING—in direct contradiction to the knot in his gut—that Lainey Carrington’s sudden appearance at the Lazy M had been innocent in nature. The look on her face, when he voiced his suspicion, told him it was anything but.

Yet another female he couldn’t trust.

Why did that surprise him?

Was it her angelic beauty that had him wanting to believe he could trust her? Her fair, perfect skin and the ripe peach hue blushing across her high, elegant cheeks? The silky cap of neatly arranged honey-blond hair around her oval face? The straightness of her pert, slender nose and the determined set of her feminine chin? Or was it the enticing curve of her bow-shaped lips and the warmth in her long-lashed, forest green eyes? Brad couldn’t say for sure what it was that attracted him to her so fiercely. All he knew was that he had been around beautiful women all his life and been chased by more than he could count, but none had stopped him dead in his tracks the way Lainey Wilson Carrington had. None had made his heart stall in his chest, to the point he felt frozen in time. Like this moment was something he would always remember.

Which was maybe why he should continue giving her a hard time. To keep the walls up and prevent himself from succumbing to such cornball sentiment. Brad gave her his kick-butt glare. “I’m still waiting for that explanation.”

“Maybe you should back off,” Lewis said, looking ready to rumble for the first time Brad could remember. That didn’t surprise Brad—something about Lainey, some inherent sense of vulnerability, had brought out the knight in him, too, before he had come to his senses.

Lainey turned to Lewis with a reassuring smile. “I don’t mind explaining what brought me here.” She drew a breath and turned back to Brad. “I stopped by because I wanted to talk to Lewis about the computer-software video games his company puts out. I heard some of the companies used kids to focus-test new products before they are actually marketed and that Lewis had built a new facility in Laramie for his company, McCabe Computer Games. I wanted to know if it would be possible to have my eight-year-old son, Petey, participate in a trial of a new computer game. I thought it might be a fun thing for him to do this summer while school is out. But when I arrived and saw the chaos, and realized Lewis was in the process of interviewing household managers, I knew that it wasn’t a good time to be stopping by after all.”

Brad’s gut told him that as truthful as Lainey was obviously trying to be, she was also leaving out some mighty important parts. The deliberate omissions were what concerned him most. “And you have no interest whatsoever in me,” Brad surmised.

The color on her cheeks deepened self-consciously, even as her chin lifted a challenging notch. “Why on earth would I be interested in you?”

Brad answered her with a lazy shrug. “The same reason everyone else in America is. Because I am the villain du jour.”

Lewis added, “You wouldn’t believe how many people—folks the family hasn’t heard from in years—have called up, wanting the inside scoop on what happened with Brad on that TV show.”

Lainey flushed and didn’t meet Brad’s probing gaze. Another sign, Brad thought, that she was nosy as charged.

Lainey defended herself with an indignant toss of her head. “Believe me, I had no idea you were out here, Brad McCabe. Never mind in such a cantankerous mood!”

Not one to take an insult lying down, Brad narrowed his eyes at her. “What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

Lainey glared at him, sipped her drink, and didn’t reply.

“I think that’s pretty clear.” Lewis stepped between Brad and Lainey. “She’s telling you that you’re rude.”

Brad wasn’t about to apologize for that, darn it all. “I don’t want company,” he announced bluntly. Hers or anyone else’s.”

Lewis arched his brow. “Fine by me. Then leave. ’Cause I want to talk Lainey into helping me out here.”

Lainey sighed and tore her gaze from Brad’s. “I told you, Lewis. I am not in the market for a job as a housekeeper. I need to be at home with my son this summer.”

Lewis was undaunted. “Your son could come to work with you. Test out new games here at the ranch and at my company’s new facility in Laramie. He’d have a blast!”

It was all Brad could do not to groan as Lainey hesitated, clearly tempted.

“I’m not asking for much. I just need help getting settled,” Lewis continued persuasively. “All of my stuff unpacked and organized, along with Brad’s.”

Lainey tilted her head. “Your moving company should have offered that service.”

“They said they’d unpack it for an extra fee,” Lewis explained. “They also wanted me to tell the workers where to put everything. I couldn’t do that because I don’t know where it goes. I don’t have time to think about stuff like that. Never mind figure out how to get a kitchen put together and all that.”

Lainey looked at Brad as if expecting him to help. “Don’t look at me,” he said gruffly. “I’ve got my hands full trying to get the stable, pastures and barns ready to go.”

Sighing, Lainey turned back to Lewis. “Don’t you have a girlfriend who could help you?”

Lewis flushed beet-red and shook his head.

“What about your little sister or your stepmom?” Lainey insisted.

“They both think he should be doing it himself, and they’re right,” Brad said. “It’s best to be self-sufficient.”

“Spoken like a die-hard bachelor,” she muttered just loud enough for them both to hear.

“The truth is,” Lewis said, “Laurel and Kate probably would help me out, but Brad doesn’t want them around right now. ’Cause they ask too many questions. You know…about how he’s feeling and stuff.”

Brad rubbed his jaw. “I think Lainey Carrington can do without the play-by-play.”

“Well, it’s the truth!” Lewis countered.

Brad’s temper flared. “Sometimes the truth does not need to be told!”

“Sounds like you have a pretty complicated situation,” Lainey told Lewis sympathetically.

“So will you help me out?” he asked eagerly. “I’ll give you one hundred dollars an hour to help me get organized. Because that’s what professional organizers charge. At a few weeks—let’s say three—that would be twelve thousand dollars, give or take. If you decide you want to cook for us, I’ll pay you for that, too.”

To Brad’s chagrin, Lainey seemed intrigued.

Lainey blinked. “What were you planning to pay a housekeeper?”

Lewis shrugged. “If she lived in, fifty thousand, with free room and board. Like I said, I’m planning to make the guest house into the housekeeper’s quarters.”

Lainey cast a look in the direction Lewis was pointing. Her soft lips pursed thoughtfully. “How much room does it have?”

It was all Brad could do not to groan out loud as his brilliant but clueless brother answered. “Eleven hundred square feet—a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, one and a half baths.”

“She already told you no,” Brad interjected, knowing the last thing he needed was a nosy female underfoot. Lewis would be gone all day. It was Brad who would be here at the ranch, dealing with Lainey one-on-one, running into her every time he turned around!

Lainey scowled at Brad. “Excuse me. I don’t believe either of us was talking to you.”

Brad closed the distance between them, not stopping until they were nose to nose. “Well, I am talking to you. And let’s be serious here.” He paused to let his gaze drift over her in an insulting manner before returning to her green eyes. “A woman like you isn’t cut out to live and work on a ranch.” She was clearly pampered and city-chic. She even had pearls and earrings on. No woman on a ranch wore pearls and earrings and suede shoes with the heels and toes cut out. Plus, she had sensational legs! How was he supposed to get any work done when she was walking around in a skirt, showing them off?

Lainey folded her arms and leaned toward him. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she scolded him fiercely, oblivious to the way her stance was lifting the soft curves of her breasts. “He isn’t asking me to dig ditches!”

Brad frowned, refusing to let the alluring fragrance of her perfume distract him. With difficulty, he kept his gaze away from the fabric stretched across her breasts. He’d already had one glimpse of her shapely form, he didn’t need another. “Those hands don’t look like they’ve done any hard labor indoors, either,” he continued.

Lainey released a long-suffering sigh. “I use hand cream,” she explained as if to a moron, then turned back to Lewis, all smug self-confidence. “You say I can bring my son to work with me?”

This time Brad did groan out loud.

Lewis perked up. “Heck, yeah. You can even bunk in the guest cottage if you like. That way the two of you wouldn’t have to drive back and forth to—”

“Highland Park.”

Which was, Brad thought, one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Dallas.

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Brad said, figuring the last thing they needed was some small-town-girl-turned-society-mama out here.

Lainey and Lewis turned to Brad. “No one asked you!” they declared in unison.

Lainey said to Lewis, “You understand it would only be for a few weeks?”

Lewis grinned, looking ridiculously slaphappy. “Unless I can talk you and your son into staying on permanently.”

“You don’t even know if she can cook!” Brad practically shouted.

Lewis shrugged. “If she doesn’t, she can learn. Can’t you, Lainey?”

Lainey took a long drink of her soda, then set the can down. “I certainly could. You’ve got a deal, Lewis. In the meantime, I’ve got to get back to Highland Park.”

Which still wasn’t saying if she did or did not know how to cook, Brad thought. Which in his view was an absolute necessity, since it was a twenty-minute drive to the nearest restaurant and the appeal of frozen dinners, sandwiches and prepackaged food—the only stuff he and his brother were capable of fixing—was already wearing mighty thin.

“But you’ll be back?” Lewis asked anxiously.

“Oh, yes. Tomorrow.” Lainey stared at Brad, all stubborn defiance. “First thing.”

Chapter Two

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Lainey stared at her sister-in-law, sure she hadn’t heard right.

Bunny Carrington touched a hand to the glossy black chignon at her nape. “Bart and I cannot let you take Petey out to some godforsaken ranch for the next few weeks.”

Bart, Bunny’s henpecked attorney-husband, hadn’t said anything thus far. But that wasn’t surprising to Lainey. According to Lainey’s late husband, Bart had traded away his say in most everything when he agreed to marry Bunny and take her last name of Carrington, instead of have her take his.

Like Lainey, Bart’s roots were decidedly blue-collar. In marrying Bunny, he had married up. And now, twenty years and a pair of twin girls later, he was still letting Bunny run the show.

Lainey sat down on the edge of the plush, ultra-suede sofa in Bunny and Bart’s family room. Through the plate-glass windows, she could see Petey romping in the lagoon-shaped pool with his eighteen-year-old cousins, Becca and Bonnie. Relieved he was not privy to any of this, Lainey stated calmly, “I think you misunderstood me. I wasn’t asking your permission.” Any more than she was asking their permission to work as a reporter. “I just wanted you to know where you could contact us.”

Bunny glanced at Bart. He looked troubled, too, but not necessarily in agreement with his wife. Obviously, Bunny wanted Bart to say something.

Finally, the tall gangly man with the perpetually defeated expression on his face, cleared his throat. “I think what Bunny is trying to say here is that some changes may need to be made.”

A chill ran down Lainey’s spine. No one had to remind her that thanks to the terms of the trust Chip had set up for Petey, which Bunny oversaw, all of Lainey’s finances were controlled by her sister-in-law. Which was another reason why it was so important she start making some money of her own—soon. “What kind of changes?” Lainey asked suspiciously.

“Bunny thinks that it’s impractical for you to be incurring such steep mortgage payments every month.”

It hadn’t been Lainey’s idea to have a ridiculously high mortgage payment every month. Chip was the one who had insisted they purchase a home in Highland Park. Lainey began to relax, ever so slightly. “I’m glad you brought this up,” she said, relieved. “I’ve been wanting to sell the house. It is much too big for just Petey and me.”

Not only was it an unnecessary expense, but also the home had too many memories of her and Chip. Lainey was finding it impossible to move on, when everywhere she went she saw and felt her late husband’s presence. Lainey had loved her husband terribly. She saw Chip’s good qualities in Petey every day. But now that she and Petey had gone through the mourning process, it was time to build a new life.

Lainey smiled at her in-laws. “Petey and I would be happy with something much smaller and less expensive. Which is why I’ve been thinking about relocating back to my hometown of Laramie, Texas.”

Lainey had no family ties there any longer, since both her parents had passed on years ago, but Laramie was still as friendly and laid-back as ever. When she had driven out there earlier this morning, she had been surprised to discover how much it had felt like home.

Bunny and Bart regarded each other tensely.

“You misunderstand us,” Bunny said finally. “Bart and I want you and Petey to move in here with us.”

BRAD WAS ON HIS WAY OUT to the barn to begin unloading bundles of PVC pipe from his pickup when a familiar dark green SUV turned into the lane leading to the Lazy M ranch house. The vehicle zipped toward the parking area and stopped just short of the guest house. Seconds later, Lainey Carrington was stepping out of the driver’s side.

She was wearing an open-necked hot-pink silk shirt with three-quarter sleeves, a trim black skirt that failed to reach her knees, and open-toed sandals that, like the rest of her outfit, were hardly suited for life on a working cattle ranch. Despite the eye-catching hue of her blouse, her outfit was conservative enough to be worn in a corporate setting. The way it hugged her slender curves was another matter indeed…. Just looking at her made Brad’s mouth water.

The knowledge of his own desire made him frown. He had promised himself at the end of the TV show that he was swearing off all women for at least a year. It hadn’t been a problem—until now. Unbeknownst to the producers who had hired him for Bachelor Bliss, his rep as a bed-hopping ladies’ man was a hell of a lot more fiction than fact.

She went up to the ranch house door, rang the bell, pressed it again and again. Finally, she came back down the steps and looked toward the barn, where he was busy unloading the back of his pickup truck.

She got back in her vehicle, drove the short distance to where he was, and got out of her SUV again.

Apparently remembering all too well the way they had parted, Lainey gave Brad a cool glance. “Lewis around?” she asked, stepping nearer in a drift of remarkably alluring perfume.

“Nope.” Brad lifted one bundle onto his shoulder, then another.

She marched closer yet, her sexy shoes tapping across the blacktopped ranch driveway. She seemed to be spoiling for a fight. Although, not necessarily with him, Brad noted.

“Care to elaborate?” Lainey asked tightly.

“Nope.” Carrying the bundles of pipe, Brad headed for the newly painted beige barn.

She skipped to keep up with his long strides. “Don’t be such a—”

Curious as to what she would call him, Brad prompted, “What?”

“Donkey’s rear end!”

He grinned. Somehow, he hadn’t seen her cussing. At least not out loud. Not that her verbal imagery hadn’t done the trick in getting her message across.

Lainey danced across his path, forcing him to detour around her. “Just tell me where he is and I’ll leave you alone,” she said.

Grimacing, Brad set the bundles down on the cement floor of the barn with a loud clank. Then he straightened to face her. “He went to Laramie, to work at his facility there.”

Her expression fell and she took a step back. Sunlight poured down from the blue Texas sky, illuminating the honey-gold strands of her hair. “How long is he going to be gone?” she asked.

Brad shrugged, noting the flush of color across her cheeks, the mist of perspiration at her temples. “You’d have to ask Lewis, but he usually puts in a twelve-hour day, if not more.” So did Brad.

Frustrated, Lainey raked her teeth across her lower lip. “I really need him here, to tell me where he wants me to get started.”

Determined to be as ornery as possible, in hopes she would get ticked off and leave, Brad tipped back the brim of his hat and regarded her with an indifferent gaze. “You’ll have to take that up with him.”

To his disappointment, Lainey looked undeterred. “I guess I could go ahead and move my stuff into the guest house.”

Brad looked back at the SUV. The rear seat was down and it looked packed to the gills with stuff. Even the front passenger seat was heaped with belongings. Brad frowned. “Where’s your son?” Not that it mattered to him, but the other day, Lainey had sounded like her son Petey was a very important part of her life.

“Obviously, he’s not with me today.”

She didn’t look happy about that. Which made Brad ask before he could stop himself, “Everything okay?”

Lainey folded her arms in front of her. “You really care?” she asked.

He shouldn’t, Brad knew. Not if he was going to keep his distance from the lovely blonde.

“That’s what I thought.”

Suddenly, she looked near tears. Brad, who had never been much good in the comforting-others department, had an insane urge to take her in his arms. Instead, he remarked, even more matter-of-factly, “If you want to go around looking like you lost your best friend, that’s your business.”

Lainey swallowed hard, her eyes moistening. “How about if I go around looking like I am losing my only child, then?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” Lainey sighed and shoved her hands through her hair. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“True enough.” Brad was silent. What was going on here? It wasn’t like him to get involved in anyone else’s private business. He had enough trouble managing his own. “Still, if you want to talk…” he found himself saying.

Lainey’s voice grew turbulent. “He’s at the theme parks in central Florida with his two cousins, aunt and uncle.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Because I wasn’t invited.”

Ouch. “That was rude.”

Lainey’s slender shoulders stiffened. “I’m sure Bart and Bunny didn’t mean anything by it. They thought I needed some time to myself.”

She didn’t look like she needed time to herself. Brad strode back to the pickup for another load. “When will they be back?”

Lainey remained in the shade of the barn. “The end of the week, which will give me enough time to get settled in and have everything ready for Petey here—so it’s probably for the best, anyway.”

She didn’t look as if she believed that, Brad noted. Not that it was any of his affair.

“Is the guest house unlocked?” she asked.

Brad dropped the second load of pipe next to the first, then fished in his pocket for the key. He dug it out and handed it over, knowing the reason why Lewis had made himself scarce when Lainey would be moving in. Not that it was up to Brad to deliver the bad news to Lainey. It was her fault. She should have investigated further before taking the short-term job with his brother. “Lewis asked me to give this one to you.”

“Thanks.”

Years of ingrained training had Brad asking, albeit reluctantly, “Need any help unloading your SUV?”

“Nope.” She swung away from him, and walked to her vehicle, spectacular legs flashing in the bright June sunlight. As he watched her go, Brad couldn’t help but notice she looked more like a well-to-do suburbanite, out for a day of shopping, than a housekeeper or—what was it Lewis had called it—personal organizer?—about to embark on the massive task of making the Lazy M ranch house livable.

Telling himself to quit thinking about her and concentrate on the installation ahead, he continued unloading his pickup, laying pipe, sprinkler heads, fans and linear heat sensors on the cement floor of the freshly scrubbed-out barn. He was nearly done when he heard the first scream. Shrill and terrified sounding, it split the air with the intensity of an air-raid siren.

“What the…?” Brad dropped the box in his hand.

Another scream pierced the air, louder and longer than the last.

He took off at a run.

LAINEY WAS STILL SCREAMING when Brad charged through the open front door and found her crouched, still shaking and scared, atop the kitchen counter.

His expression went from panicked to amused in an instant.

“Look, I know the place is a mess, and you must feel frustrated as hell, but don’t you think you’re overdoing the drama just a tad?”

Lainey wished that were the case. Not that Brad didn’t have a point. Perhaps she shouldn’t have yelled like a banshee when she discovered the state of her quarters for the next few weeks.

Unbelievably, the guest cottage was in even worse shape than the Lazy M ranch house. Instead of being crowded with boxes, though, it was heaped with old furniture of various kinds and all sorts of odds and ends. In short, it looked the way many people’s attics looked after being neglected a good ten, twenty or thirty years. But that wasn’t why she’d been yelling her head off for the past two minutes.

“Follow your nose, cowboy!” She pointed to the source of the foul odor that had prompted her to head for the kitchen in the first place. “And get those…creatures out of here!”

“Huh?” His expression perplexed, Brad swaggered through the maze of belongings and stared down at the five exceedingly ugly creatures on the other side of the counter. “Armadillos?”

“Nine-banded armadillos.” Lainey shuddered, not about to admit how glad she had been to see Brad charging to her rescue. Not that she considered herself a damsel in distress, of course. “A whole family of them.”

Brad braced his hands on his waist. “I can see that.”

“I hope that’s all of them, anyway!” Lainey shuddered again. She didn’t know what she would do if she found other creatures in the guest house, as well. The four baby armadillos, weighing about five or six pounds each, were backed into the corner of the U-shaped kitchen, toward the sink. The mama—a behemoth the size of a terrier and a lot less friendly—was guarding the only way out.

Brad flashed her a bad-boy smile that was enough to make her stomach drop. “It is.”

“How do you know? You just got here!” She was the one who had been crouching uncomfortably on the kitchen countertop, her skirt hiked up around her thighs, for what seemed like an eternity as she screamed for help.

Brad’s glance slid from the floor, to her legs, and then to her face. “Because armadillos always have four identical offspring—every time,” he told her in a husky voice that soon had her tingling all over. “They all come from the same egg, hence they are the same sex.”

She couldn’t believe she was talking reproduction with one of the sexiest bachelors alive. “Well then, let’s hope Papa Armadillo isn’t around here somewhere, too,” she declared.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, unconcerned. “Oh, they never hang around for the birth. He probably took off months ago, shortly after, uh, getting her in the family way.”

She felt herself flush. “Do we really need to be talking about the mating habits of armadillos right now?” she muttered, trying to no avail to bring the hem of her skirt down, just a little. Unfortunately, the fabric was too tight and she lacked maneuvering room.

“You brought it up. What did you do to rile Big Mama up, anyway?”

Telling herself Brad’s scrutiny was not sexual in nature, Lainey explained, “I walked in and almost tripped over one of her babies. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by scurrying…screeching…beasts.” She shuddered again, recalling the panic that had ensued.

He reached over and gave her bare knee a warm, companionable squeeze. “Given the way you were screaming and leaped up here, they probably think the same thing about you.”

Trying not to think about the way her skin was tingling from just that brief casual contact, Lainey frowned at him. “Very funny.”

He folded his arms in front of him. “I suppose you want me to remove them.”

Lainey rolled her eyes. He was enjoying her discomfiture and dragging this out on purpose! “Duh.”

“Okay.” Brad pivoted on his heel. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait!” She reached out for his shirt, missed. “You can’t leave me here!”

But of course he already had.

She looked back at the armadillos nervously. She hadn’t seen one of them since she was a kid and living in rural Laramie. And she’d never viewed one this close. The mother had a pointed face and large pointy ears that stuck straight up. A hard brown shield covered the mama’s shoulders, another her rump. Between the two were nine bands, hence the name. Her tail was long and tapering, sort of like a rat’s tail, only this was completely covered with disgustingly bony rings. She had scattered yellowish hairs across her body, particularly around her face, and wicked-looking claws on all four of her feet. Lainey had no doubt Big Mama would fight to the death to protect her young—Lainey would, too.

She did not want to tangle with the animal.

What seemed like an eternity later, but was really only a couple of minutes, Brad strode back in, carrying a large metal animal cage and wearing heavy-duty elbow-length leather ranch gloves. “Just so you know,” he warned her, eyes twinkling, “this probably isn’t going to be pretty. Or quiet.”

Unsure whether it was excitement or annoyance speeding up her heartbeat, Lainey said in a strangled voice, “Just get them out of here!”

Brad moved a couple of boxes to block any exit attempt the five armadillos might make, then waded into the kitchen, trap in hand. When the baby armadillos scattered, Big Mama ambled away from Brad and then broke out into an awkward run, slamming into the side of one cupboard, then another. For a while it was kind of like trying to catch a greased pig. As soon as Brad would get near Big Mama, she would head off in the other direction. Unperturbed, Brad stalked the mother armadillo calmly, until he finally had Big Mama cornered, then reached down and grabbed her swiftly by the base of the tail. Big Mama squawked in terror and spun wildly, but Brad held on and somehow managed to drop her into the metal trap and shut it again without getting scratched or bit. The other four babies were caught in the same manner. Once all five were in the trap, Brad locked the lid.

Lainey breathed a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized until that moment how glad she was to have Brad there, saving the day. “Now what?” she demanded.

“Depends.” Brad gave her an assessing look. “You like armadillo meat?”

“You’re kidding.”

The corners of Brad’s lips twitched as he said drolly, “Guess that’s a no.” Brad picked up the cage of animals and swaggered for the door.

“Tell me what you’re going to do with them!” Lainey called after him, belatedly feeling just a tad sorry for the cornered creatures. She was sure, after thinking about it a moment, that they hadn’t meant to intrude or scare her to death.

“You want to know?” Brad’s dark brown eyes held a dare. “Come along and see!”

LAINEY THOUGHT ABOUT IT for a minute, then declined his invitation with a shake of her head. Accepting dares was what had always gotten her into trouble. It was enough of a risk just accepting a job here without disclosing what she hoped to gain for herself, and do for Brad in the end. “Thanks, anyway,” she said.

“Suit yourself.” He headed amiably out the door.

Lainey heard the sound of metal on metal as he put the cage into the back of his pickup, then he climbed behind the wheel and drove off.

When she was sure he and the “uninvited guests” were gone, she climbed down from her perch and started to explore. But no sooner had she cleared the kitchen than a sound near the door had her spooked again…and climbing right back up onto the kitchen counter. Surely Brad McCabe wouldn’t be gone that long, she told herself.

Fifteen long minutes later, he returned. He pushed back the brim of his Stetson. “Any particular reason you’re still sitting up there?” he asked with a curious lift of his brow.

Lainey was beginning to feel pretty darn foolish, but better safe than sorry…. “I thought I heard something over there.”

Brad frowned. He seemed to know instinctively that she wasn’t joking around. “Where?”

Lainey pointed toward the living room window she had opened soon after she arrived. She could handle just about anything except wild animals. Those scared the heck out of her.

Looking more bored than scared, Brad strode over to investigate. He reached the antique sideboard that blocked Lainey’s view, stopped dead in his tracks. “Well, I see the problem,” he said eventually, backing up slightly and rubbing his chin.

“What is it?” she demanded, feeling even more alarmed.

He leaned over. When he straightened he held a half-burned pillar candle in his hand. “What do you think? Look dangerous to you?”

Lainey regarded Brad skeptically, aware her knees were still shaking a little. “That’s all it was?”

He glanced around, looking puzzled. “I don’t see anything else over here. This, however, was on the floor, lying on its side.”

“Why would it just fall off like that?” she asked suspiciously.

“The wind?” He set the candle on top of the sideboard and lazily made his way toward her.

Lainey’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. “You’re sure there are no more wild animals in here?”

“Well, I don’t see or smell anything else,” Brad drawled as he walked through the combination living room and dining room, past the kitchen and half bath, and through the back hall, where the two bedrooms and full bath were located. He returned to stand in front of her, grinning wickedly. “Now, are you going to continue sitting up there or are you going to get down so we both can get back to work?”

Swallowing hard around the sudden dryness in her throat, Lainey moved toward the edge of the counter. “First tell me what you did with the party of five,” she countered curiously.

“I drove them to a distant pasture and turned them loose next to a stream.”

Sounded good to her. “Are they going to come back?” she asked nervously.

He taunted her with an impudent smile. “After the way you were carrying on?”

She tossed her hair—something she hadn’t done since high school. Maybe college. “I’m serious.”

“It’s doubtful.” He regarded her, eyes alight with interest. “Since there are numerous places for them to burrow and there’s plenty for them to eat where I let ’em loose.”

Lainey scooted to the end of the counter. “What do they eat?”

“Grubs, earthworms, insects, sometimes berries and bird eggs. Not that I saw any bird’s nests in the area.”

Lainey realized there was no way to get down off the counter gracefully. She fervently hoped Brad would realize that and turn away—but he didn’t. “How did the armadillos get in here in the first place?” she asked, carefully swinging her legs over the side of the counter.

Brad watched as her skirt slid higher than she would have liked.

Wordlessly, he reached for her. Hands on her waist, he lifted her down to the floor. He held on to her just long enough to steady her and make sure she had her balance. That was all it took for Lainey to feel a surge of desire more potent than anything she had ever felt.

She sucked in her breath, stepped back.

He stepped back, too, looking just as stung, as they struggled to claim the threads of the conversation.

“We were talking about how they got in here,” Lainey prodded, trying to appear cool.

“Beats the heck out of me.” He shrugged, the powerful muscles in his shoulders straining against the fabric of his shirt. “I didn’t see any holes in the wall. The guest house sits on a cement slab, so they certainly didn’t burrow through that.”

Lainey bit her lip as she noticed the flush of sun on his face. And something else…something interesting…in his eyes. “And they’re too big to come up through the plumbing,” she said.

Clearly enjoying toying with her, he looked her over from head to toe. “They don’t like water anyway.”

So full of facts, he was practically an encyclopedia of Texas life. “So how did they get in here?” Lainey challenged. If he knew so much, he must know that.

“Must have walked in last night.”

Lainey regarded Brad skeptically.

Reluctantly, he explained. “The place had a musty smell, so Lewis propped open both doors and a few windows to get a nice cross-ventilation going. It was after dark, and armadillos are generally nocturnal this time of year. Big Mama probably thought this looked like a good shelter, or maybe she was just foraging for food with her babies and got shut in here when Lewis closed up.”

Lainey walked over to survey the place where the candle had fallen. She did not appreciate having the wits scared out of her for the second time that afternoon. How was she ever going to sleep in here tonight? “Well, don’t open up the place to whatever might inadvertently wander in here again,” she warned him haughtily.

Brad angled a thumb at his chest. “I didn’t do it the first time.”

Lainey swung around to face him, bumping her face on his shoulder in the process. “You weren’t concerned about the musty smell?”

Once again, Brad put out a hand to steady her. “Why should I be when my brother already was?” he asked, his capable fingers radiating warmth through her shirt to her skin. “Besides, I didn’t hire you to help us get organized.”

“And why is that?” Lainey demanded tartly.

“I don’t see any sense in paying someone for something you can do yourself.”

Lainey pushed away the ridiculously romantic fantasies his nearness was evoking. “Except you two haven’t done it yourselves,” she pointed out.

“So?” he shot back. “We would have gotten around to it eventually.”

She smirked, not about to let him get away with that whopper. “How long have you been living out here?” she asked.

He stepped toward her. “We closed on the property two weeks ago.”

She felt a completely uncalled-for fluttering in her middle. “And continued to live in this chaos?”

He poked the brim of his cowboy hat up with maddening nonchalance. “Why not? Doesn’t bother me any more than armadillos, field mice, snakes and porcupines do.” He lifted a brow. “Course if you’re not comfortable coming face-to-face with wild animals, you could always head on back to Dallas.”

That sounded like a dare. Lainey stepped toward him this time, not caring that her move left them mere inches apart. “Excuse me?” She angled her head up at him.

“This is a ranch, you know.” He leaned toward her ear and whispered conspiratorially, “Animals of all sorts are supposed to be all over the place.”

It was the stalking males that worried Lainey.

“I know where I am, thank you very much!” Not that she would ever let herself fall prey to someone as demonstrably fickle as Brad McCabe. Even if she had always wondered just how ardently he could kiss….

“Good.” He paused, gave her a self-assured, faintly baiting look. “’Cause for a moment there, you bein’ so surprised and all, I was beginning to wonder just how much you remembered about life out in rural Texas.”

“Enough,” she replied sweetly, “to know a great big pile of horse bucky when I see or hear it.”

“Excuse me?” He mocked her earlier reprimand to a tee.

Finally, for Lainey, everything fell into place. “I know what you’ve done here, Brad McCabe. And I am not amused,” she told him heatedly. “Not in the least!”

Chapter Three

Well, that was good, Brad thought with no small trace of irony, because he sure as heck didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

“You planted those armadillos in here to chase me away!” Lainey declared with an indignant toss of her head.

“Now why would I go and do a darn fool thing like that?” he demanded right back, furious at being once again erroneously suspected of being the bad guy, and at the same time amused because she was so far off track in her assumption.

Lainey ran a hand through her tousled blond hair, pushing it off her face. “You made it abundantly clear yesterday afternoon that you did not want me here!”

Brad adapted a no-nonsense stance, legs braced apart, arms folded in front of him. He figured he would let her make a fool of herself first, then set her straight. “So?”

Lainey’s green eyes glimmered hotly. “So I accepted Lewis’s job offer anyway.”

Brad released an exasperated breath. “An action I am sure you will quickly come to regret, if you haven’t done so already.”

“Well, these silly little hijinks of yours are not going to work!” She stomped closer yet.

Brad hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on either side of his fly and rocked back on his heels. “Sure about that?”

“I have just as much right to work on this ranch as anyone else.”

“Maybe so. But can you handle it?” Brad stepped closer, purposefully invading her space, not stopping until he had backed her against the sideboard in the center of the room. “Can you handle me?” Not sure why he had started this, except somebody had to set her straight, Brad flattened a hand on either side of her, caging her between his arms, and leaned in close. “You know my rep.” He let his glance drift lazily over her softly parted lips before returning, ever so deliberately, to her eyes. “I’m bad news with all the ladies.”

To Brad’s surprise and grudging respect, Lainey inhaled deeply and stoically stood her ground. “A fact that makes no difference whatsoever to me, since I am a widow.”

And thereby off the market—perhaps forever—in her estimation. Not in Brad’s. Lainey may well have felt she had already been there, done that, but he hadn’t. And being around Lainey, even for a short period of time, had him thinking all sorts of crazy things. Like what it would be like to have her in his bed. Or his life. And not as a thorn in his side. But as a lover, confidante, friend.

Not that this was even a possibility, he reminded himself sternly.

He was in the business of getting her out of here as soon as possible. Before he got in over his head and she got hurt.

“Well, yee-haw.”

She lifted a brow in wordless inquiry, her cheeks turning an even deeper pink.

He smirked in a way meant to infuriate. “If memory serves, a lot of young widows I’ve come across in this town have been hot to trot.” And he was reputed to be randy as could be. If that combination didn’t send her running…and get her safely and quickly off the Lazy M Ranch…he wasn’t sure what would.

Unfortunately, Lainey wasn’t taking his hint.

She lifted her chin, ice in her smile. “I am not in the least bit sex-starved, I assure you, Brad McCabe.”

He felt a stab of jealousy as unexpected as it was intense. He hadn’t heard anything about Lainey having a boyfriend. Nor had she mentioned that as a potential problem yesterday when Lewis had been talking to her about moving to the ranch for a couple of weeks—or longer. Surely if there was a man in Lainey’s life important enough for her to bed, she would have wanted to run the possibility of her moving out here with “the most loathed bachelor in America” with her beloved, if only as a courtesy. Or, at the very least, asked Lewis if it would be all right if she had “visitors”—meaning a territory-staking male friend—at the ranch to see her while she was here. Instead, the only person she had seemed concerned enough about to mention was her eight-year-old son. Who was, coincidentally, also the person in her life most likely to prevent her from kicking up her heels and having a little fun.

Somehow, looking at the stiff way in which she was holding herself, and the defenses that were in high gear, Brad didn’t think Lainey had been kissed in a good long while. Too long, actually.

“Yeah?” He leaned in even closer and lowered his mouth to hers, prepared to have a little fun. “Well, let’s just put that declaration to the test.”

Lainey hadn’t thought Brad was really going to kiss her. She’d thought he was only trying to scare her off the ranch, and out of his way, by pretending to put the moves on her. But there was nothing feigned about the feel of his lips pressing against hers. Nothing fabricated about her reaction to the imprint of his tall, strong body pressed warmly against hers.

She hadn’t felt this alive, this much a woman, since…well, she couldn’t remember when. And though she repeatedly told herself she really had to stop this now, with every shift in pressure of his warm wonderful lips, every stroke and thrust and parry of his tongue, she felt herself sliding deeper and deeper into the mystery that was him. And heaven only knows what might have happened next, had she not heard a discreet feminine exclamation of dismay, and a throat clearing—loudly—behind them.

Lainey and Brad broke apart at the same time, and turned in the direction of the sound. Right away, Lainey recognized Brad’s uncle, Travis McCabe, and his wife, Annie. The handsome couple had both owned ranches before they married some fifteen years ago—since then, the Rocking M Cattle Ranch and the Triple Diamond had been combined.

“Lainey! I don’t know if you remember me,” Annie Pierce McCabe said, stepping forward, looking much younger than her forty-five years.

They had never been friends—there was too much of an age difference—but Lainey had admired the moxie Annie had shown, creating a new life for herself and her three sons after her divorce. “Of course I do.” Lainey accepted the slender, red-haired woman’s welcome. Annie was one of Lainey’s role models, and one of the reasons why Lainey had been thinking about moving back to Laramie permanently, once her job at the Lazy M was done. “I’ve been using your barbecue sauce since it first came out.” Lainey smiled.

“She’s famous for it, all right.” Looking fit and strong as ever, Travis wrapped a hand affectionately around his diminutive wife’s shoulder, then greeted Lainey, too.

“Travis…Annie.” Brad nodded at them both.

“Brad.” Travis glared at Brad in scolding fashion even as he shook Brad’s hand.

“We came to help!” Annie said, in an effort to let them both off the hook.

But Lainey knew that unless they addressed the ardent clinch that Annie and Travis had just witnessed, it would be like trying to ignore the elephant in the middle of the room.

She wrinkled her nose, pretending to misunderstand, while at the same time transferring her embarrassment—and the blame for the romantic fiasco—squarely where it belonged, onto Brad McCabe’s handsome shoulders. “You knew Brad would be putting the moves on me?” Lainey asked their company innocently.

Brad gave Lainey a surly look that let her know he had expected her to get him back; he just hadn’t known—until this moment—how she was going to do it. “Hey,” he chided amiably, clapping a calloused hand across his broad chest. “I saved your life, sweetheart!”

Sweetheart. Why did that sound so good coming from those lips, even if it was in sarcasm, and not a true endearment? Determined to demonstrate she was not intimidated by Brad McCabe, no matter what he dished out, she stood her ground. “I hardly think that’s the case, since those armadillos were not going to bite me.”

Brad chuckled. “You never would have known that by the way you were screaming,” he countered.

Lewis came in behind them, as eclectically dressed as always. “What did I miss?” he demanded, looking about as unsuited for ranch life as was possible.

“Nothing,” Brad and Lainey said in unison, while Annie and Travis shook their heads and stifled grins.

Lewis frowned. “Doesn’t look like nothing,” he murmured.

“Your brother was harassing her,” Travis explained helpfully.

“I thought I told you not to do that!” Lewis reprimanded Brad.

And just that quickly, the balance of power in the room shifted. Lewis hadn’t meant to remind Brad that Lewis, not Brad, actually owned the Lazy M.

“Right. Boss.” Brad slapped his cowboy hat back on his head and stomped out. Travis shot a look at his wife, and then followed Brad.

“I—I didn’t mean—” Lewis stammered, upset.

“I know you didn’t and so does he,” Annie said gently, before turning back to Lainey. “You remember my three older sons?”

“The triplets?”

“Teddy, Tyler and Trevor are twenty now. They’re all working the ranch for the summer.”

Lainey could hardly believe it. “They’re in college now?”

“Yes. Tyler’s planning to be a vet, Trevor a cattle rancher, and Teddy wants to breed horses. They all just finished their sophomore year at Texas A&M. They’re on their way over. They’re going to help us move furniture and try to make the guest house livable for you and Petey. Speaking of which, where is your son?”

Regret swept through Lainey. “Petey is on a trip with his relatives. He’ll be joining me this weekend.”

“Oh. Our two youngest boys will be so disappointed. Kurt is nine and Kyle is eight and they were so excited to hear there’s going to be another guy roughly their own age, on the next ranch over.”

Two boys came in. They were followed by three strapping young men who did indeed look all grown up. All five had rusty red hair and freckles, just like their mother. “They’re bein’ strict with us!” the taller boy, soon introduced as Kurt, said.

“Yeah, and that is not their job,” his slightly smaller brother Kyle pointed out. “It’s yours and Daddy’s.”

“They were headed for mischief,” Teddy told his mother.

“If anyone would know it when we see it, it’d be us,” Trevor grinned.

Tyler’s eyes twinkled even as he claimed, “We weren’t that bad.”

Lewis and Annie groaned as Brad and Travis came back in. Lainey had been just a teenager when Annie and Travis’s romance began, but even she remembered the triplets—who had been four at the time—had caused lots of havoc in the months and weeks before, during and after Annie and Travis had gotten together.

“Really?” Travis countered, his eyes twinkling, too. “Because I seem to remember, among other things, some ‘flying’ eggs…”

A chuckle resounded through the group at the memory. “All right, all right, maybe we were that mischievous, but we’ve grown up okay,” Tyler claimed.

That they had, Lainey noted admiringly. It was clear all five of the brothers loved one another dearly. She had so wanted for Petey to experience the love and camaraderie of siblings, too. Instead, he was growing up an only child, just the way she had….

But there was no more time to think about that, because Annie had had enough of standing around. She clapped her hands together, looking every bit as anxious to get on with the “organizing” task ahead as Lainey was. “Okay, guys,” Annie told the assembled crew, “now that we’ve got all of you here to do the heavy lifting, let’s get busy and start moving this furniture where Lainey thinks it should go….”

“LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT,” Brad said early the next morning when Lainey came face-to-face with him and his brother in the Lazy M ranch house kitchen. “It’s only your second day on the job and you already want time off?”

Lainey ignored Brad—who looked unbearably attractive in jeans, boots and an old chambray shirt—and spoke directly to her real boss, or at least the only person she planned to take any orders from. “I wouldn’t ask if an old friend of mine weren’t in Dallas today, on business.” With me. “I haven’t seen Sybil in a couple of years and she has enough time to have lunch with me. I’d really like to go.”

Clearly aware he was annoying her, Brad looked her over, taking in the fit of her pale yellow, linen sheath dress, matching cardigan and shoes, before returning ever so slowly to her face. “Must be nice to be a dilettante,” Brad mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for Lainey to hear.

“Better than a smart-mouth any day of the week,” she muttered right back.

Lewis stepped between them. He looked annoyed at Brad, too. “Will you leave her alone before she quits on us?” Lewis demanded.

“So what?” Brad finished the second half of his orange juice in a single gulp. He set the glass down on the counter with a thud, as determined to rile Lainey as ever. He shrugged indifferently. “Then we’ll simply hire someone else who will work more than one day in a row.”

“Keep it up,” Lainey told Brad, walking around Lewis to confront him, “and I’ll be tempted to kick you in the shin.” It would serve him right for kissing her the way he had, when she knew he hadn’t meant it. And she, unfortunately for her, had.

“Not going to hurt much with those fancy sandals you’re wearing,” he said in a tone sexy enough to make her want to kiss him all over again. “And speaking of footwear…” He pretended to study her carefully. “This being a ranch—with free-roaming wildlife and all—”

Oh, brother. Like she was going to fall for that again. “Not to mention one very big and ornery beast,” Lainey added sweetly, hoping to shame him into behaving.

“—don’t you think it’s time for you to start dressing a little more practically?”

Lainey had been thinking about it—until he mentioned it, anyway. Clothes that were just right in Dallas seemed a little too fancy here. Lainey had been dressing the way Chip had expected her to for so long, she had no idea how she would dress if it were up to her. Deciding she did not like the presumption in Brad’s eyes, she said, “I suppose you’d like to see me in boots and jeans?” The question was, what would she like to see herself in?

“Depends on how much leg you intend to keep flashing. Yesterday, for instance, when you were climbing up on that kitchen counter, I could see…”

The heat of a self-conscious blush warming her face, Lainey headed for the door before she was tempted to smack Brad McCabe’s ornery face. She couldn’t believe he had kissed her, and she had kissed him back. What in the world had she been thinking, even letting him come to her rescue?

“When are you coming back?” Lewis asked hopefully, as he followed her to the back porch.

Lainey turned around and smiled at Lewis. He at least was truly one of the nicest guys she had ever met. “Later tonight. And don’t worry. Beast or no—” she glared over Lewis’s shoulder, at Brad “—I’ll be here working the rest of the week.”

LAINEY JOINED HER OLD FRIEND Sybil for lunch at The Mansion on Turtle Creek, and typically Sybil got right to the point. “Were you able to find out where Brad McCabe is right now?” she asked as soon as their iced teas had been served.

Lainey knew it would serve the Texas cowboy right if she were to put the most tenacious magazine editor in the country on his tail, but Lainey couldn’t do it. And not just because of the way Annie and Travis’s crew—and Brad and Lewis, too—had pitched in to help her begin the task of organizing the Lazy M Ranch and guest houses the previous afternoon.

Pure and simple, ratting out Brad would be the wrong thing to do. Even if doing so would help her old friend and former college roommate. “I have to tell you, Sybil, from what I learned, Brad McCabe is in no mood to be interviewed.”

“So?” Sybil ran a hand through her short jet-black curls. “Be persuasive. Change his mind. You’re a pretty single woman. He’s supposed to love pretty single women.”

One would certainly think so, given the way Brad had been portrayed on the reality TV show. “Even if I were able to get an interview with him—a feat which it is doubtful I’ll be able to perform—I can almost guarantee you that he wouldn’t answer a single question about what happened on Bachelor Bliss. Nor is he likely to agree to be photographed for Personalities Magazine.”

Sybil frowned, disappointed but not defeated. She leaned across the table, looking as lithe and trendy as ever in her designer pantsuit. “I need that cover story, ‘America’s Most Loathed Bachelor,’ if I am going to prove myself worthy of the editor-in-chief position.”

Lainey knew Sybil was in hot competition with another senior editor for the post. The July first edition of the bimonthly celebrity magazine was Sybil’s chance to prove herself. Her competition was working on the June fifteenth edition. Whoever had the highest sales would win the post. Lainey wanted Sybil to win, but she did not want to sacrifice the privacy of her family and friends to make it happen.

Even though, Lainey added sarcastically to herself, it would almost serve Brad right if she did expose his whereabouts. Where had he gotten off thinking he could haul her into his arms and kiss her as if there were no tomorrow? She wasn’t one of the babes who had lined up to win his heart on the show!

“His family won’t tell anyone where he is,” Lainey said, sticking to what she could—in good conscience—reveal. “And the citizens of Laramie are just as protective of him.” Had she not stumbled across him, and been hired to organize the Lazy M, she still wouldn’t know where he was currently residing.

“Maybe they’ll change their minds,” Sybil said as the waiter returned with two bowls of tortilla soup.

“I doubt it. Brad is very well loved in his hometown. More than one person told me they didn’t know who that was on the reality show, but it sure as heck wasn’t the Brad they knew, before or since.”

“So they think he was screwed by the producers.”

Lainey nodded, savoring the spicy mixture of flavorful broth, tender chicken, crisp tortillas, creamy avocado and cheddar cheese. “At the very least, portrayed in a deliberately unflattering light.”

“Except that doesn’t make sense, since the producers very much want their bachelors to be extraordinarily heroic.”

And Brad had been portrayed as the world’s biggest cad.

“Viewers won’t watch if they don’t like the bachelor,” Sybil continued between spoonfuls.

Except they had watched, in record numbers, if only to see the handsome lothario get what was coming to him.

“Look, you knew him as a kid, right?”

Lainey made a seesawing motion with her hand. “Sort of. He and his family moved to Laramie when Brad was sixteen, a few years after their mother died.”

Sybil leaned forward impatiently. “My point is, you have an insight into this guy—a personal connection—that none of my other reporters have. If you can find him, you have the ability to get close to him.”

At least in theory, Lainey thought. Right now Brad was so prickly she couldn’t see anyone getting close to him, man or woman. Even his beloved younger brother Lewis was giving him wide berth.

“This could be your big break, Lainey. A cover story that could catapult you into the big time and erase all those years when you didn’t work as a writer. Getting this story for me would make your lack of journalism degree a moot point. And if I’m hired as editor-in-chief, largely because you got the story of the summer, I promise you a job as a staff writer.”

The waiter cleared their plates and returned with warm lobster tacos for Sybil and Texas crab cakes for Lainey. “I told you—I don’t want to live in New York City. I want Petey to grow up in Texas, the way I did. Maybe even in Laramie.”

Sybil rolled her eyes. “Two weeks out in the sticks and I guarantee you will change your mind about that and go running back to Dallas.”

Maybe, and maybe not, Lainey thought. She had already been there a few days, and already she felt calmer, more relaxed, more in touch with her true self than she had in years.

Being back—even temporarily—was like having a fresh start in her life.

Sybil sat back in her chair. “How many times have you said to me, on the phone or in e-mail, that you wished you’d had the chance to work for a while before you got married, to see if you had what it takes?”

Lainey sighed. “Hundreds.” Whenever Chip or his family had made her feel small and inconsequential, she had wished she had more of a sense of herself, more inner strength. She had wished she had a life apart from her husband and son. Something to call her very own.

“If you don’t want to leave Texas, that’s fine. You could work for Personalities Magazine as our southwest stringer.”

Sybil didn’t know how tempting that sounded. “That would still mean travel.” Lainey forced herself to be practical.

“Day flights. You could hop on a plane in the morning, interview someone and be home in time to cook Petey dinner. I promise.”

Which would make the situation workable, Lainey knew. And the job would fulfill Lainey’s long-held dreams of being a reporter and challenge her in ways she hadn’t been challenged in a long time. Certainly, being a staff reporter for Personalities Magazine would be a lot better than trying to make it as a freelance reporter, selling stories here and there.

“The point is, Lainey, you and I both know that the story the producers presented to the viewing public was not the whole story. If Brad McCabe is the wonderful guy at heart that his family and the entire citizenry of Laramie, Texas, think he is, then other stuff must have happened behind the scenes that maybe only Brad—and the woman he ended up first choosing and then unceremoniously dumping at the end—know about.” She took a sip of water. “And you’ve read the stuff Yvonne Rathbone’s been spouting. That he was a Jekyll and Hyde, her heart was shattered all to pieces…and she will never ever get over what happened in a million years.”

“I saw her on one of the morning news shows, after it happened,” Lainey admitted reluctantly. Yvonne had been crying her eyes out. “She appeared credible.”

Sybil looked cynical. “You and I have both known women who are capable of twisting the truth. It’s up to you to discover what really occurred and write it up, so everyone knows what happened, instead of the lies and the half-truths Yvonne and the producers are putting out. In the meantime, I’ve got some standard contracts and releases for you to sign.”

She handed them over. Lainey perused them while they waited for their dessert and coffee. The documents were fairly straightforward. Until Lainey got to the amount being offered for the article. She glanced up. “You’re willing to pay me five thousand dollars for one three-thousand-word article?”

“If we publish it,” Sybil concurred. “And we won’t publish it unless you can come up with something new, factual and fairly sensational.”

And therein lay the challenge, Lainey thought, as she kept reading the terms of the contract. How could she become friends with the McCabes, while at the same time secretly investigating—for public disclosure—the true character of one of their own? If what she found out flattered—and freed—Brad from this nightmare of bad publicity, she could very well be a hero in their view. But if the worst happened, if Brad actually had been a cad, for absolutely no reason, as his ex alleged, what then? If Lainey were the bearer of news like that, the citizens of Laramie would not be happy with her. And that resentment could prevent Lainey from returning to Laramie—with Petey—to live.

“You’ll notice we have the exclusive right to publish whatever you do find out,” Sybil pointed out.

“As well as make any editorial changes you see fit,” Lainey noted, all of which was standard.

Sybil handed over a pen. “I’ll need you to go ahead and sign this agreement—and then we’ll get down to the brass tacks of what the magazine expects from you on this assignment.”

Lainey complied and Sybil countersigned, then handed a contract to Lainey and slid the other back into her carryall.

“So this is what I am proposing,” Sybil said as they sipped their coffee. “I want you to use your knowledge of Brad and anything else you can find out about him and his family that is not currently known. And then I want you to interview Yvonne Rathbone for the magazine and use that intimate knowledge to try to trip her up, see if you can catch her in some obvious lies. And maybe, just maybe, get her to at least give you a clue, if not an outright confession, about what really happened behind the scenes at Bachelor Bliss. Maybe if you get her to admit enough, you’ll be able to use your desire to clear Brad’s name and rep to get his family to tell you where you can find him for a sit-down interview. That way, he’ll see how much you want to help him, and he will fill in the rest for you.”

Did she want to help him? How could she not? Certainly, she wanted to know the truth of what had happened, and be responsible for getting that truth out for everyone to know! “That’s a lot of ifs,” Lainey said finally.

Sybil dipped her spoon into the raspberry sauce on top of the crème brûlée. “I remember very well how tenacious you are when you’re on a story. I have faith you will be able to get the job done.”

Lainey admitted to herself that she wanted all the answers as much as Sybil did—if not more. Thinking about the task ahead, knowing she was up to the challenge, she savored her chocolate cake. It was time to prove she had what it took to be a reporter, time to build a new life for herself and Petey. “What’s the time frame?”

“You have the rest of this week to prepare and do your digging. I’ve set the interview with Yvonne up for Sunday afternoon. She’s going to be in town this weekend to appear at a charity gig—and she agreed to meet with you and a photographer from the magazine at the Fairmont Dallas, where she’ll be staying. I’ll need the article on her and Brad one week from today.”

Seven days. “That’s not much time.”

“It’s enough for a pro. You’re a pro, Lainey. You know it and I know it. You’ve just been off the job for a while. Now it’s time to get back to the work you were born to do.”

“What if I can’t get Brad to talk to me and tell me his version of events? I mean, it’s been almost three months and he hasn’t told anyone what happened thus far.”

Sybil shrugged. “You’ll still have the article you write about his ex—Yvonne Rathbone—after you interview her. And you can write the article about Brad whether or not he allows you to interview him. That fact alone might induce him to cooperate.” She continued. “And even if it doesn’t, you still have your Laramie connections. You’d be surprised what little tidbits you can pick up here and there when people feel comfortable enough to open up to you. Once compiled, they could make a hell of a story, or at least lend powerful insight to what happened to make Brad change his mind about proposing to Yvonne. I’m counting on your intimate knowledge of the family and the town where he spent his teenage years to give you an edge and an in that no one else has had to date.”

“Because unless there’s something new to be told about the breakup, you don’t want it.”

“Right. No sense in rehashing what has already been said a hundred different ways. That won’t sell magazines. Readers want to know how Brad McCabe could seem so head over heels in love with Yvonne Rathbone one minute, and then treat her like dirt the next.”

It was a puzzle.

Brad was ornery but he didn’t seem cruel. And yet on the show he had abruptly seemed so cold, irrationally angry and bitter. Lainey paused. “Everything you’ve said thus far makes sense.”

“And—?”

“I have to tell you,” Lainey sighed, wishing she didn’t have such a guilty conscience. It would be so much better for her career. “It doesn’t feel right going after the story in such an underhanded manner.” It felt like a betrayal. To herself, to the McCabe family, and especially to the target of her story, Brad McCabe. To the point that at least part of her was already regretting signing that publishing contract.

Sybil studied her. “All I am asking you to do is discover the truth and help Brad McCabe regain his reputation as a good and decent guy.”

If Lainey did that, maybe the brooding look would disappear from Brad’s eyes. Maybe he would regain his innate good cheer and the optimism he’d once had about love and life. Maybe then all the McCabes would rest a little easier. On the other hand, if he didn’t, he could easily end up like her late father—embittered, angry and resentful the rest of his life….

“I’m sure all Brad McCabe needs is a journalist to whom he can tell his side of things and he will open up,” Sybil continued.

But how could Lainey get Brad to trust her now, when she had gone out to the ranch to hunt him down? If she told Brad the truth, he would kick her off the ranch so fast her head would spin. If she didn’t, she would be staying there under false pretenses.

“I think I understand where you’re coming from,” Sybil said gently.

Lainey didn’t see how that was possible, given all she hadn’t told her old friend.

“You’re scared. You haven’t had to work in a long time, whereas a lot of women our age have done nothing but gain experience and devote themselves to their careers the past ten years. But you have to start somewhere if you want a career, Lainey. And I have to be honest with you—offers like mine are going to be few and far between.”

Lainey toyed with the last of her dessert, feeling torn between her own ambition and her loyalties to those she had grown up with. “I know that.”

“Then be sensible and take me up on this wonderful offer. Put your personal feelings aside and act like the tenacious reporter you were when we were in college! Find the facts. Put them in an article. And to help you get started—” Sybil opened her carryall and extracted a trio of DVDs.

“What’s this?”

Sybil smiled. “Copies of the episodes that featured Brad McCabe and Yvonne Rathbone. I know you’ve seen them, along with the rest of the country, but watch them again, slowly and carefully this time. I guarantee you will see things you didn’t see the first time, and that—plus your nose for news—will lead you to the truth about Rathbone and McCabe.”

Chapter Four

Sybil had been right, Lainey thought late that evening as she watched the DVD on her laptop computer screen. Being able to watch the show again—thoughtfully—was going to be a huge help to her as she prepared a list of questions that would need to be answered if she were ever to find out what happened behind the scenes at Bachelor Bliss.

And the people who had known Brad forever were also correct in their assessment, Lainey noted. The Brad on TV was different from the smart, sassy, challenging man in real life. His actions, as he was introduced to each of the twenty women vying for his heart, were stiff, almost scripted, as were his deadly dull remarks. Except when it came to Yvonne Rathbone. When Yvonne approached him on the terrace, sumptuous curves spilling out of a glittering evening gown, flame-red hair flowing over her shoulders, something definitely clicked.

Lainey backed it up, and watched again as Yvonne sashayed toward Brad. Instead of simply clasping his hand or kissing his cheek in the same nervous, formal way all the other contestants had done, Yvonne went up on tiptoe and, covering her microphone with one hand, whispered something in his ear that the viewers couldn’t catch. Brad’s eyes lit up and he grinned, as if he hadn’t expected Yvonne to say whatever it was she had whispered to him. And just that simply and quickly, a connection of some sort was made.

Question #1, Lainey wrote. What did Yvonne say when she and Brad first met?

Question #2. Was Yvonne the only woman in the bunch Brad was physically attracted to?

Because upon closer inspection Lainey realized that he hadn’t looked as if he was enjoying himself with the others.

And if he were the selfish Casanova they had painted him as, Lainey thought as someone knocked on the guest house door, he should have been having fun with all the ladies.

“Who is it?” Lainey called, hurriedly stuffing her paper and pen beneath the sofa cushions.

“Brad McCabe.”

Lainey swore as she switched off the DVD, hid the covers for the other two disks beneath that day’s Dallas Morning News, and moved back to the picture of Petey she used as a screen saver. “Just a minute!”

Satisfied she’d left no clues as to her mission, she hurried to the door.

Brad’s expression was impatient. He got straight to the point. “I need printer paper. I know it’s late—”

“No kidding.” She was already in her pink-and-white-striped cotton pajamas.

For once, he didn’t look at her breasts. Not that he would have seen much. They were covered in the demure fabric. “But I saw you were still up—and Lewis said he knows he has some good quality stuff. He thinks it might be over here in a box marked ‘Pencils and Scissors.’ I’ve already looked through the ranch house from top to bottom, and I have to have this thing I’m working on done by seven-thirty tomorrow morning, or believe me, I would not be bothering you.”

He did look stressed. Lainey realized this might be a good time to get started on gathering her background information from him. “Come on in. You can help me look for the ‘Pencils and Scissors’ box,” she said casually, leading the way past the boxes that were stacked four-high along one wall of the living room, behind the conversation area formed by the green Naugahyde sofa and two easy chairs. A round oak table for four sat beneath the window in the square country kitchen. There were boxes there, too, again pushed against the wall. Lainey noticed Brad had showered sometime that evening. He still smelled of soap and cologne, and his gleaming dark brown hair had the soft, rumpled look that comes from running a towel through just-shampooed hair and letting it dry any which way. Clamping down on her awareness of him—it wouldn’t do her story any good to get distracted by his irresistible male presence—she asked, “What are you working on?”

“A business plan for the Lazy M. I’ve got back-to-back meetings with all three of the town’s bankers tomorrow morning. I’m hoping one will be sufficiently impressed to want to lend me the money I need to get the cattle operation up and running. What are you doing?” He glanced at her personal computer sitting on the coffee table. Lainey tried not to feel guilty—and failed. She knew some reporters lied routinely about everything under the sun as they went undercover to ferret out stories that could not be dug out any other way. Lainey was not one of them.

She planned to get Brad’s cooperation in the Personalities story. That would be a lot easier to do if they were friends and he understood from the get-go that she was there to help him clear up any misconceptions and restore his good name, not malign him as so many others had done. “I was catching up on my e-mail, and doing a few other things on my laptop.” That I can’t tell you about…just yet, Lainey added silently. But I will, I promise, just as soon as I think you trust me enough to understand. “Before that I was lining the kitchen shelves.”

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