Carter Page 11

  “All right.” Grace gave him a glare. “I only want to be bad as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

  Carter broke into a low laugh. “Seriously not good at it.”

  “I’m just learning,” Grace said. “I’ll have to practice. If you’re just going to lean on the counter and make fun of me, maybe you should go make up the guest room for me instead.”

  Carter’s smile died. “You’re not sleeping in a guest room, sweetheart. I have a big bed.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “And a daughter on the other side of your suite.”

  “A daughter who isn’t stupid. Besides, you’re supposed to be my fiancé. What engaged couple sleeps in separate bedrooms?”

  “A pretend engaged couple. Carter, come on.”

  “This was your idea.” Carter straightened up only to slide his arms around Grace’s waist from behind. “If we’re going to play this out, we have to do it all the way. I don’t want anyone suspecting it’s not true.” He pressed a kiss to her neck. “You know how rumors fly around this town. We need to stay together and act as if we like each other.”

  Grace flushed. “I do like you, Carter.”

  “Well, that’s good.” Carter pressed another kiss to her neck. Grace let go of the pan in the soapy water, closing her eyes. “I like you too.”

  His lips caressed her throat and on across to her shoulder. Her body responded with fire.

  Grace knew then she’d never be able to walk away from him, from this. Not without a world of hurting, from which she wasn’t likely to recover.

  ***

  Carter woke in the morning with the feeling that something was wrong, and that something was very right.

  The something right he found immediately. Grace lay with her back to him, her warmth along his side, her breathing even.

  Carter remained still for a long moment. His bed, as he’d claimed, was big—for one person. Until now, Carter had found it roomy.

  But two people had never slept in it. Carter had kept his liaisons discreet and away from home.

  Grace, the woman of his dreams now took up more than her half of the bed, and his heart sang.

  Her hair was a dark, rich brown, streaked here and there with gold. No one could live their lives under the vast sky of Texas without the sun leaving its mark. Her hair was clean now, but he’d liked it better dotted with cream, hanging in her face while she laughed.

  They’d taken quick showers last night, separately, Carter staying out in the kitchen, finishing wiping up while she was back here. He knew he’d never keep his hands off her if he didn’t. He waited until she was in bed, dropping into exhausted sleep, before he showered and crawled into the snug nest she’d made.

  The thought of doing that every night was intoxicating.

  Grace stirred, started, rolled onto her back, and blinked at him. Carter rose on his side, elbow on the pillow.

  “Mornin’.” He was tongue-tied again, but it didn’t seem to matter.

  Grace, who could have bolted in embarrassment, smiled sleepily at him.

  “Morning.” She gazed at him a while longer before a troubled expression creased her face. “What time is it?”

  “Early.” The problem with ranch life was that there was no sleeping in. Horses had a schedule they demanded you follow, whether you liked it or not.

  Grace put her hand to her hair. “Oh, I must look awful.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  Carter traced her cheek, and Grace’s face softened. “So do you.”

  Carter wanted to laugh. The last adjective a woman should use to describe him was beautiful.

  “I gotta get going,” he said. “I don’t want to. Would rather stay in here all day.”

  “I know.” Grace turned her head and kissed his fingers. Then she heaved a resigned sigh. “But I need to start breakfast, Faith will be waking up, and I should go before she sees me.”

  Carter didn’t think Faith would be all that upset, but one reason he didn’t bring women home was so that Faith wouldn’t have to run into his conquest for the night.

  Grace wasn’t a conquest. As much as he’d wanted her, Carter had never thought of her as that.

  Grace sat up and kissed his lips, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, then slid out of bed. She was in her underpants only, the rest of her clothes lying neatly on a chair.

  Carter remained stretched out on his side, soaking in the warmth she’d left. He enjoyed the way her breasts moved as she reached for her clothes, how her waist curved in a little before her hips flared into the round of her buttocks. Her hair brushed her shoulders, and she flipped it out of the way as she picked up her bra.

  Her bra hooked in the back, but she pulled the hooks around to her front, clipped the bra closed, then turned it one-eighty degrees before thrusting her arms through the straps. Huh. Carter never knew women did that.

  Grace lifted her shirt and looked at it. “I can’t wear this. I need to go home and change.”

  “Bailey might have left some clothes here she isn’t using while she’s pregnant. She and Adam aren’t all the way moved out.”

  Grace gave him a seriously? look. “Bailey is overall more … um … petite than I am. I don’t think I’ll fit into her clothes.”

  “Then go buy something.”

  “In Riverbend? Clothes here are for tourists. How many Howdy From Texas or armadillo shirts can I wear?”

  “I don’t know. The armadillo ones might be cute.”

  “Funny.” Grace pulled the top on and then her shorts. “I’ll drive home and change, then come back and start cooking for the day.” She put her hands on her hips. “Are you going to let me drive across a small town I’ve lived in all my life by my own self now that it’s daylight?”

  Carter threw back the covers and made himself get out of bed. He sure didn’t want to.

  He’d worn underwear to bed, not sure that Grace would want to wake up to him poking her in the back, and not trusting that he wouldn’t simply roll onto her and wake her up with some loving.

  Why’d he think of things like that? It took his head a couple minutes to stop spinning.

  “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  Grace stopped. “Really? Carter, I’ll be all right. It’s broad daylight; there’ll be lots of people around. I understand why you didn’t want me out there after the town went to bed, but it should be fine now.”

  “You don’t know Joss and Lizzie. They’re dangerous people.” Carter slid into his jeans and grabbed a clean shirt from the closet. “We’ll drop Faith off at school, let you pack a few things, and come on back.”

  Grace’s mouth had dropped open. “Pack a few things? As in—you want me to move in here for a while?”

  “Sure,” Carter said. “Why not?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Why not? he asked so casually.

  Carter’s drawled words lingered in Grace’s thoughts as she prepared a quick and easy breakfast for the three of them—Olivia came into the kitchen and announced that she was meeting people for her morning meal at the diner. She pretended not to notice Grace’s same clothes from yesterday, the hair she hadn’t quite been able to tame, and the fact that Grace was here this early.

  “Grace,” Olivia said as she turned to go. Olivia always looked nice—slim and graceful in her southwestern colors and silver and turquoise jewelry. “Be careful.”

  Grace flushed a hot red. “I’m always careful. I think.”

  “Not in this case.” Olivia gave her a look that was wise from raising five boys who were reckless and wild. “Carter’s special. I saw that in him the moment I met him. The center sent me five boys when he came. Four were typical—they’d do okay in the program, but they’d get tired of it and be back to their old ways. Carter had drive. And heart. He wanted something beyond what he had, craved it. But he wasn’t going to run over people to get it—he was going to work his butt off instead. I certainly made him do that.” Olivia laughed softly. “He hated me inte
nsely at first, but he understood. He worked. And he showed me he had a great capacity for love.”

  “I know he does,” Grace said, slowly stirring the eggs in the frying pan. “Faith is the proof.”

  “He has that capacity for everyone,” Olivia said. “That’s what you need to understand. But he’s afraid of it. I don’t blame him—he was hurt bad in his young life. He lets it out with Faith because she’s the same way as he is. She loves unconditionally. Don’t take Carter’s love for granted. To see it in him is a very special thing, indeed.”

  Grace’s throat closed up. “I think I understand.”

  “Good.” Olivia relaxed. “He’s a hard man in some ways, but he’s also vulnerable. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

  “Neither do I. Believe me.” Grace rescued toast as it sprang up on the toaster. “What do you think happened to Lizzie?”

  Olivia considered. “I’m not sure. I met her a couple times. Wouldn’t put it past her to pretend she was abducted to get Carter into trouble. But who knows? She runs with a bad crowd. Ross is keeping his eye on that investigation. He has contacts in law enforcement in Houston—all over Texas, actually. He’ll find out what happened.” Olivia paused. “Ross is another reason I knew Carter had a capacity for love. Carter took such good care of Ross. I never had to worry for my littlest guy as long as Carter was around.”

  She straightened up, keys jingling. “Didn’t mean to talk your leg off, Grace. I’ll get going.” Her eyes grew bright. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Everything will work out fine.”

  Olivia went out the kitchen door, her silver earrings swaying and catching the sunlight.

  “She telling you all about my messed-up childhood?” Carter’s rumbling voice made Grace jump. “She’s not wrong about that.”

  “No.” Grace hastened back to the counter, wondering how much he’d heard. “She was saying you were great.”

  “Uh huh.” Carter came and helped himself to toast, eggs, and bacon. He made a smaller plate for Faith. “I was a total screw-up. I ran away, I cussed her out when she had me dragged back, I beat up Adam and Grant … Okay, so that last part was fun.”

  “But you stayed.” Grace carried her own plate to the table and set out knives and forks, salsa for the eggs, butter, jam, and peanut butter for the toast. “You could have run away again and gone where no one could find you. As young as you were, I bet you could have.”

  “Yep.” Carter paused to yell out the door to Faith that her breakfast was on the table, then he picked up his fork. “But I decided I liked it here. As mad as Olivia got at me, she never ordered anyone to beat me down. Or threatened to kill me, or to sell me out. I thought that meant she was weak and wussy. Then I realized how much strength it takes to be patient enough to help someone who’s fighting you all the time. She taught me a lot.”

  Grace hadn’t heard Carter say that many sentences at the same time since she’d known him. His gratitude to Olivia must run deep. Grace saw Carter’s capacity for love again in the way he cared for Olivia.

  Faith came bounding in, all smiles and excitement. They ate together, like a family. Grace cleaned up the dishes while Carter got Faith ready to go, then they piled into Carter’s truck and took Faith to school. Like a family.

  Grace hoped that by the time they reached the Malory ranch and turned in at the gates, Ray and Kyle would be a long way off, either training horses, training themselves, or hitting the road for a rodeo.

  No such luck.

  Ray, the largest of the two Malory brothers, stood on the front porch, leaning on a post at the top of the steps. He had his arms folded, sunlight and shadow dappling his tight body and dark hair.

  Grace scrambled down from Carter’s truck, her purse banging her hip, and started for the back door—the front door was for formal visitors and special occasions. She hoped Carter would remain in the truck, the engine running, so they could make a quick getaway.

  No luck there, either.

  Carter turned off the truck, calmly got out, and followed Grace.

  Ray came down the steps to meet them both. Carter, his face shaded by a large black cowboy hat, gave him a nod.

  “Mornin’, Ray.”

  “Mornin’.” Ray gave him a cordial nod in return then turned his green eyes to Grace. “We were getting a little worried about you.”

  “I texted you,” Grace said, irritated. “It was too late to drive home alone. Thought it was safer if I stayed put.”

  Carter’s eyes flickered as she omitted that her staying had been his idea.

  “Kyle’s inside,” Ray said. “I think he has a lot to say.”

  Grace lost her temper. “He’s not my father. Neither are you. Where I decide to spend the night is my own business; who I decide to marry is my own business. I’m sorry if you and Kyle don’t like it, but you’re going to have to deal with it. I hope one day you can come around and be happy for me.”

  She swung away, her purse clanking, and stalked toward the back door.

  Behind her, Ray rumbled, “She wakes up cranky. You’ll have to get used to that.”

  “Yeah,” Carter said. He went silent, then he said, “Heard you broke another record.”

  “Did.” Ray managed to sound offhand, as though reaching the championship in his division was no big deal. “He was one mean bull, though.”

  “Red Lightning,” Carter said. “Seen him. Sorry I missed your ride.”

  “Oh, well. Got another coming soon—you’ll be there too. Saw you’re entering that new horse in the cutting class. You need to watch the horse Johnson’s been training—he’s good.”

  Grace reflected as she walked inside the back door and into the kitchen, that while two rodeo cowboys might have absolutely nothing else in common, as soon as they started talking horses and bulls they could go on for hours. They might be deadly rivals, but rodeo talk transcended such things.

  Grace passed through the kitchen, intent on the stairs and her bedroom, but Kyle came in from the hall before she could make it out.

  “Don’t lecture me,” Grace said at once. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “I heard you yelling at Ray out there.” Kyle lifted his hands. “I just want to say, Grace, that you’re right. It’s your life. If you want to marry Carter—I mean, if that’s what you really want— I’ll climb down and shut up.”

  Grace eyed him narrowly. “There’s nothing wrong with Carter. He had a hard time when he was a kid, but he was saved by a great family. Whatever you think of the Campbells, they did right by him. He’s turned out fine.”

  “I know.” Kyle rubbed his hand through his short, dark hair. “It isn’t Carter I don’t like. It’s people who come looking for him and shoot you. Losing you was not something I wanted to do.” Kyle came to her, his voice going rough. “You’re my baby sister.”

  Grace softened. “Damn it, Kyle, don’t make me cry.”

  “I’m serious. If you’re in love with Carter—I agree, he turned out fine. He’ll take care of you. But I’m still gonna worry.”

  “I’m worried too. Believe me, I don’t want to ever see Lizzie again. But we’ll fix this—Carter and his family will. We’ll be all right.”

  “He’d better.” Kyle, with effort, erased his frown and pulled Grace into a hug. “But if you want to be married to him, then I’ll go with it. I don’t want a family feud. You yelling at me is bad enough. Lucy’s even worse.”

  Grace squeezed him tight. “Thank you.”

  “But if he makes you unhappy in any way, I will kill him.”

  Grace released her brother, but held on to his hands. She’d always admired Ray and Kyle, who were fearless and strong, even when they were overbearing and overprotective.

  Now was the time to tell Kyle that the engagement was a ruse. But she decided to keep it to herself a little longer, not entirely sure why. She’d tell her brothers. Just not now.

  ***

  Grace took a damn long time to come out of the house again, but Carter knew women had to organize thin
gs their own way. He and Ray ended up on the porch, chewing the fat about what horses they were training, what shows were upcoming, what their ranches were doing.

  Finally, Grace emerged in clean clothes, carrying a shoulder bag, kissed Ray and Kyle, who’d come out with her, and walked determinedly for Carter’s truck.

  The Malory brothers weren’t happy with Grace for returning to Circle C, or for the engagement—and for a lot of things—but they were calling a truce.

  As they drove back to Circle C, Grace talked only about Faith’s upcoming party and all the things she needed to do for it and for her pastry making. No mention of anything that had happened between her and Carter, what they should do next, where this was going. Carter had always heard that women tried to talk a relationship to death, but Grace seemed happy to turn to practical matters.

  Carter parked at the house. Grace would go inside and start working in the kitchen, and he’d go down to the ranch office, like he did every day.

  But it was different today. He’d slept with Grace, and they had a new understanding, like a partnership.

  Carter stopped her as she started for the house, drew her back to him, and kissed her.

  Grace gave him a startled look, then a wide smile. She rose on tiptoe to kiss him back, then made her way toward the house, throwing him a pleased look over her shoulder.

  This relationship—or whatever it was with Grace—was going to be different from any Carter had ever had. He’d make sure it lasted past this charade, past these problems. Some things were too good to lose hold of.

  ***

  The something wrong Carter had felt when he’d woken up with Grace was his troubles with Lizzie.

  She still hadn’t been found, but her parents weren’t dropping the custody suit. Everything was on hold until the police determined what had happened to Lizzie, but they’d made it clear they wanted their granddaughter now, no matter what. Never mind they’d been absent from her life the first nine years, Carter thought angrily. Well, he wouldn’t let them take Faith, any more than he’d let Lizzie have her.

  Ranch business, dragged Carter’s attention to it for the next few days, whether he liked it or not. There was always something going on—horses needed to be shoed, fed, their ailments tended, some had their training stepped up while others rested. Overtraining a horse could burn it out. Under-training could sour them.