The Texan's Christmas. Linda Warren
Читать онлайн книгу.
brought his attention back to Bubba Joe. “Tyler’s a rodeo guy and he and Chance will always be cowboys.” Tyler was younger than the Hardin boys but his rodeo success was well-known.
“Chance’s wife just had a baby.”
“Yeah.” Kid twisted the bottle. “A little boy named Cody.”
“His wife teaches at the school. My cousin has her for a teacher and he has a big crush on her—a beautiful blonde. Who wouldn’t?”
“Shay’s a real nice lady and Chance is lucky to have met her.” But the relationship almost disintegrated on its own when Chance had found out the truth about Shay’s past.
Chance had been asleep in the backseat the night their parents had crashed into a tree and died. Loud voices had awakened him. Seemed their father was leaving his family for another woman. That was the horrible secret Chance had kept, never telling anyone until about three years ago when he’d finally told his brothers.
No one knew who the other woman was until Shay literally crashed into Chance’s life. The other woman was her mother.
Kid gulped the cold beer. That news had been hard to take, but they’d gotten through it as brothers. Their father had been a big part of their lives, so much so they’d followed him into the oil business. Chuck Hardin had roughnecked most of his life. He’d told his sons that they’d do better than him. They’d get an education and move up the ladder into a position of power. Everything their father had taught them felt tarnished by his betrayal.
“We all knew Cadde was going to succeed,” Bubba Joe was saying. “He had that drive, even back then. Who knew he’d marry the boss’s daughter.”
“Yeah, who knew?” Kid swirled the beer around in the bottle. The marriage of convenience had turned into something special. Nothing much distracted Cadde from the oil business, except Jessie. When they’d lost their first child, Kid feared Cadde was never going to make it back from the edge. But he’d heard love had the power to heal. Kid didn’t know much about that, though.
“I see his wife every now and then at Walker’s General Store. She pushes the baby around in a stroller looking at everything in there like she’s at Neiman Marcus. Her dog is in the stroller, too. It’s a weird thing without any ears and if you get anywhere near that baby it growls and barks. Jessie, I think her name is, always apologizes. Man, she’s a looker, and pregnant again. You Hardin boys are going to keep the name alive.”
“Yeah,” was all he said. His brothers had found something rare and he was happy for them. But he would always be the uncle and he was comfortable in that role.
“How about you, Kid. You married?”
“Nah. How about you?” Kid drained his beer.
“I still live with my momma. Every time I try to leave she gets sick.”
Kid wanted to laugh. “Big-headed momma’s boy” is what they used to call Bubba Joe. He didn’t quite understand why kids had to be so cruel. In third grade Billy Ray Tarvel couldn’t say “Cisco” so he’d called Kid “Crisco” because that’s what his mom used to make pies. Kid had to forcibly hold Billy Ray down one day to make him say “Kid.” After that no one but Bubba Joe called him that twice. Bubba Joe never did it in a cruel way. It was fun and he wanted to be Kid’s buddy. Kid put knots on his head anyway.
Mostly, he had good memories about school, especially high school, and Lucky was a big part of that.
“Nice talking to you, Kid,” Bubba Joe said. “I have to get back to work. Stop in again when you’re in town.”
“Thanks.” He nodded and glanced toward Lucky. She was still talking to the cowboys as if they were her very best friends and giving them a very good view of her breasts. This wasn’t the shy, demure girl he’d once known. It didn’t matter. He was here on business and he had to get the job done.
“Lucky?”
She glanced at him, said something to the guys and came his way.
“You want another beer?” Her voice was so cold a chill ran up his spine.
“No. I…uh…I’d like to talk.” Damn! He sounded like he was sixteen asking her for a date. But he’d never been this nervous. Talking to women came naturally to him. Why wasn’t it easy to talk to Lucky?
“Talk,” she replied, keeping the temperature subzero.
He stood and motioned toward a table. “In private.”
He thought she was going to refuse, but she walked around the bar and sat down on a faded chair. He joined her. The air-conditioning was cool but he could feel the heat building between them. And it wasn’t a good heat.
Removing his hat, he placed it on the table and looked into her cold, cold eyes. “You look great.”
Lucky clasped her hands in her lap. What was she supposed to say to that? You lying cheating bastard came to mind. But she wouldn’t sink to his level.
“I’m thirty-eight years old and I left looking good behind in my twenties.”
“Come on, Lucky, you’re still a knockout.”
So are you.
This was where his deep sexy voice and sincere brown eyes always broke any resolve about not letting Kid get to her. He had a way of making a woman feel special, as if she was beautiful and the only woman in the world for him. As a teenager she had fallen for his smooth-talking lies. As a mature woman she could hardly believe she’d been so naive—so naive that she’d actually believed a popular boy like Kid loved the barkeeper’s daughter.
Due to her father’s occupation the kids in school tended to look down on her. But Kid took her to school parties and dances and the shy girl finally fit in for the first time in her life.
Because Kid Hardin loved her.
Briefly.
Why couldn’t he have loved her the way she’d loved him?
From the rumor mill in High Cotton she’d heard that many women had filled her shoes since. That hurt.
“What do you want, Kid?”
His warm glance slid over her face, and she felt a weakening deep in her stomach. The years had been kind to him. His hair was dark with just a hint of gray, and his chiseled features, strong chin, devil-may-care attitude and twinkle in his eyes could melt the coldest heart. The five o’clock shadow added to his sex appeal.
Don’t let him get to you.
“Why did you cut your hair?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your hair.” He waved a hand toward her. “It used to be long and gorgeous.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”
“Ah, Lucky, I think we’ll always be eighteen.” That you’re special gaze in his eyes did a number on her senses. She felt like that young girl who believed in fairy-tale endings—who believed in Kid. The thought stiffened her backbone.
“I’m not going down memory lane with you.”
As if she hadn’t spoken, he said, “What are you doing running your dad’s beer joint? What happened to your plans of being a nurse?”
What happened?
Her stomach clenched tight. The day Kid had left for Texas Tech played vividly in her mind as if it were yesterday. It was mid-August and hot, much the same as today. Kid had driven to her house in his new red Chevy pickup that Dane Belle had bought him. After his parents’ deaths, the Hardin boys lived on the High Five ranch, owned by Dane, with their aunt and uncle. Dane became the father figure they’d lost. All the boys loved and respected him.
That day they’d leaned against his truck saying goodbye.