Texas Fever. Kimberly Raye
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scooping a speck of fudge from her chin. He touched it to his lips. “I’ll have to remember that.” His gaze went past her to the boxes that filled the living room. “So you’re really settling in here?”
“I needed more space for my business. My apartment in Houston barely had room to accommodate a commercial oven. Here I’ve got room for three.”
“Which is why you turned down my offer to buy the place.”
She remembered the lawyer’s mention of a prospective buyer. “That was you?”
He shrugged. “The floor you’re standing on used to belong to the McGraws until your grandmother sweet-talked my grandpa into giving her a piece.” His gaze locked with hers. “A piece in return for a piece.”
She fought down a wave of anger and smiled instead. “It’s a shame your grandfather was such a weak man.”
He stared at her as if he wanted to argue, but then his expression softened. “He had his moments. We all do.” Regret flashed in his gaze and she might have thought he referred to Friday night, but something in her gut told her the emotion went way beyond one night of lust.
“I’m sorry your grandfather couldn’t keep his head, but that has nothing to do with me.”
“I’m more than willing to pay what it’s worth. The going rate for this area is twenty-thousand an acre. That’s what I offered Humphries. But I’m willing to go twenty-five. Plus a nice chunk for this house. I can have the papers drawn up and the money in your hand by the close of business today.”
“But I just moved in.”
His gaze pushed past her and settled on the stack of boxes sitting in the living room. “You haven’t even unpacked.”
“I’m unpacking as soon as I get this order out. Not that it matters. I moved here because I want to live here. This is my place now and it’s not for sale.”
He frowned. “Not for twenty-five thousand an acre. That’s what you’re saying, right? You want more.”
“This place isn’t for sale.”
“Cupcake, everything’s for sale if the price is right. If I’ve learned anything over the past five years since I started buying back the land that your grandmother gave away, it’s that. I actually paid for a five-acre tract on the other side of the river with a custom-made pool and big-screen projection TV. Old Mrs. Witherspoon, whose husband was one of your grandma Rose’s favorite customers, said she didn’t feel right taking money for something that she didn’t rightly pay for—Rose gave it to her husband in appreciation for forty years of loyal patronage.”
“If she’s got that much of a conscience, I would think she would have just given it back to you.”
“She’s a good woman, not a stupid one. Besides, she loves Wheel of Fortune and her eyesight is fading. That’s why she’s living in town with her daughter’s family. She has trouble getting around by herself and so she spends most of her time sitting around. She needed a big screen she could actually see and she sure-as-shootin’ can’t afford one on Social Security.”
“What about the swimming pool?”
“She’s got grandkids and it gets awful hot here in the high heat of summer.” For emphasis, he pulled off his hat and wiped a hand over his brow. “It’s only May right now and we’re already up into the nineties. And this is nothing compared to how hot it’s going to get in the next few months.”
“I’ve lived in Houston for five years. I know how hot it gets in Texas. That’s why I’ve ordered two extra window units for the downstairs alone. As for a big screen, I don’t have time to watch TV.” She had not only her business to keep her busy, but her new life, as well. She needed to really settle in and turn the Farraday Inn into a real home. “I’ve got curtains to buy and a garden to plant.”
“You garden?”
“Not yet, actually, but I’m going to start.”
“There are a lot of nice places closer to town.”
“I’m sure there are, but I’m not interested.”
“Because I haven’t hit on the right price. Just tell me what it would take.”
She thought for a moment and a smile tugged at her lips. “If you’ve got one hundred pounds of flour on you, I might be willing to make a deal.”
“A hundred pounds?”
“I’ve got orders to fill and I’m crunched for time.” She glanced at her watch. “I really have to go. So unless you’re packing several bags of the white stuff, this conversation is over.”
She could tell that he wanted to smile. But something held him back. “That’s your final answer?”
“Yes.” She watched him shrug as if giving in. Yeah, right. If she’d learned anything over the past two days, it was that Josh McGraw was a man who went after what he wanted. She’d heard almost as many rumors about him as she had her grandmother. About how he and his two brothers—he was the oldest of triplets—had practically ruled the town back in the day before they’d all gone off their separate ways. She’d heard about his parents’ untimely deaths within twenty-four hours of each other and his grandfather’s diagnosis with prostate cancer five years ago and the old man’s death just six months ago. All three boys had come back for their grandfather’s funeral, but Josh had been the only one to come sooner. He’d spent time with his grandfather during his last days, and he’d stayed on to run the ranch and buy back the fragmented pieces.
Yes, she’d heard about him, all right.
After she’d asked.
“I realize you’re set on living here, but it’s not going to be the same as the city,” he went on. His gaze fell to the pink strappy sandals she’d pulled on that morning, along with a pink miniskirt and a white T-shirt that read Princess in pink glitter. A perfect ensemble for the mall. Not so perfect for a house out in the middle of nowhere. “You might not like it.”
“If you’re trying to discourage me, it won’t work.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’ve already given myself the same speech. I know why I shouldn’t be here. The thing is, I want to be here.” Which was why she’d bought herself a pair of cowboy boots with a tastefully low heel and several pairs of jeans. She just hadn’t been able to find them amid all of the other boxes cluttering up the house.
He stared her up and down, a sweeping gaze that seemed to pause at all of her hot spots, before he finally shrugged. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Why do I have a feeling this isn’t your final offer?” she asked him.
He smiled and tipped his hat. “Because it’s not, cupcake. I’ll definitely be seeing you around.”
“Not if I see you first,” she breathed as she closed the door behind her and leaned back for a long, heart-pounding moment.
Josh McGraw was not conducive to her peace of mind. He distracted her. Worse, he attracted her. Enough to make her think twice about what he’d said.
You might not like it.
Ridiculous. She would like it. She would love it because this was her dream—a real home where she could plant a garden and make friends and finally fit in for the first time in her life. It was the lust that made her blow out a deep breath and notice the dampness of her T-shirt and the sweat that trickled down her temple.
She’d lived in Texas for several years. She was used to the heat. Of course, it was quite a bit hotter here than it had been in Houston. And her apartment building had been fairly new, with central-air units in each apartment. Unlike the old farmhouse and its one ancient window unit.
That’s just temporary. Like Josh.
Holly