The Rancher and the Runaway Bride Part 2. Сьюзен Мэллери
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meowed plaintively. “Damn cat,” the former marine muttered as he picked him up and set him in the crook of his arm.
Randi spread her napkin on her lap and laughed. “I believe that proves my point.”
“Uh-huh.”
She unwrapped her sandwiches and pulled the cover off the potato salad. “Tell me about this dance Saturday. Do you go?”
“Sure. Everyone’s there.” The older man grinned. “They’ll dance your feet off.”
“Fortunately I bought comfortable shoes when I was in town yesterday.”
Tex frowned. “You two thought I didn’t know you stopped for ice cream, but I could tell.”
Randi had raised the fork halfway to her mouth. She froze. “How’d you figure that out?”
“You both looked so damned guilty. Like kids caught stealing from the cookie jar. I hope you had a bellyache from all the supper you ate, hoping I wouldn’t notice.”
“Sorry, no.” She chewed the potato salad and swallowed. “I have the most unladylike appetite. At least that’s what my mother always told me. She ate little tiny portions of everything. It made me crazy. I can stand just about anything but being hungry. Heaven help me if I ever have to go on a diet.”
“You’re strong. All that muscle needs fuel.”
“A nice way of saying I’d never make it as a model.”
“Why would you want to?”
“Why indeed.” She thought about Brady. About how he’d made her heart beat faster and her stomach quiver with nerves. What kind of woman did he find attractive? Skinny blondes with big boobs? Sultry redheads? She doubted he had a thing for sturdy women with uncontrollably curly hair. Just once she would like someone to think she was pretty. Her father had been kind and generous with compliments, but they hadn’t been enough to counteract her mother’s brutal honesty.
She still remembered dressing for a dance when she was sixteen. She hadn’t wanted to go, but her mother had arranged for a friend’s son to be her escort. A mercy date. She’d been standing in front of her mirror, trying to convince herself she didn’t look horrible when she’d heard her parents in the hall. Her father had been excited about taking her picture, but her mother had stopped him.
“She’s nothing to look at. Why do you want to remember that?”
“She’s my daughter,” her father had protested. “She’s beautiful.”
“Oh, please. Randi’s plain at best. That hair. I’m at my wit’s end with it. At least she has decent skin. With those features, if she had blemishes, too, we’d have to put a bag over her head.”
Eight years later, the words still hurt. She knew she wasn’t pretty, but she’d come to grips with that. Some days she thought she was actually okay-looking. Time had taught her that her mother’s overly critical remarks had little to do with physical appearance and more to do with the older woman’s general dissatisfaction that her daughter wasn’t a perfect clone. The two of them had nothing in common, save a blood relationship.
“You gonna eat that, or are you just going to stare at it?” Tex asked.
Randi glanced down and realized she was holding half a sandwich in her hands, but hadn’t taken a bite. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“Judging from the look in your eyes, somewhere far away.”
She glanced at the cook. “Sometimes you’re too observant, Tex.”
He grinned. “Part of my charm. It’s one of the reasons they’ve kept me around for so long.”
“What are the others?” she asked, pretending innocence.
“My cooking, and don’t you say another word about it.”
She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed. Peter raised his head and sniffed the air. He glanced up at Tex and mewed hopefully.
“Don’t even think about it,” the cook told him. “No tuna for you.”
Peter blinked, then collapsed back into the crook of Tex’s arm. He yawned, leaned against the large man’s chest and closed his eyes.
“Ten years is a long time to work somewhere,” she said. “First the marines and now the ranch. You bond with large groups. What about with individuals?”
He drew his eyebrows together. “You one of those psychological types? I’m not interested in being analyzed.”
“Just curious. You’re a great guy. Why aren’t you married?”
Tex cleared his throat. “Never met anyone I cared about that much. The marines kept me moving around. Not many women want to put up with that.”
Randi swallowed and took a sip of water. “Not to mention the fact you loved being a bachelor.”
He grinned. “That, too.” His grin faded. “I’ve got what I want here. A home. These are good people to work for.”
“I agree.”
His pale gaze settled on her face. “Brady’s a good man, too. He deserves some happiness in his life.”
“I’m sure he does.”
His gaze narrowed. “Be a shame for him to get hurt, wanting something he can’t have.”
The mouthful of sandwich dried up. Randi kept chewing, but she had to take a sip of water before she could swallow. Her appetite fled, and with it, her good mood.
She pushed her plate away. “Don’t be subtle, Tex. Just come right out and warn me off. But before you do, I want you to know I admire and respect Brady. He’s my employer. That’s as far as it goes. There’s no need for you to worry about anything else.”
She told herself she wasn’t lying. Just because she had some serious chemical reactions when Brady was around didn’t mean he returned her feelings. In fact, she would bet money he barely thought of her, and when he did, he considered her a kid sister. That was hardly a basis for romance.
She slid the chair back and stood up. After grabbing her plate, she crossed to the sink and dumped the rest of the food down the drain. The roar of the garbage disposal couldn’t drown out the disappointment she felt.
Not because Tex thought she was inappropriate for his boss. She was a drifter with no past—why would anyone want to risk that? Tex was only looking out for someone he cared about. What hurt the most was that she’d allowed herself to think she’d found a place to belong.
She turned off the disposal and rinsed her hands. When she turned around, Tex was standing behind her, the kitten still in his arms.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said awkwardly.
“Yes, you did. I can’t blame you. You don’t know anything about me, right? Who knows what secrets lurk in my past. You’re being cautious, and I’m sure Brady appreciates that.”
She walked out the back door and headed for the barn. Maybe she should just leave. That would solve everyone’s problem. Except she’d promised herself to stop running. She wanted to grow up enough to stay in one place and find solutions. But did it have to hurt this much?
“I thought I’d found a home here,” she told Pokey as she paused to bend down and pet the pregnant tabby. “You did. Life is complicated, and I want it to be easy. Pretty stupid, huh?”
The cat purred in response.
Maybe there was a bright side. Maybe Tex was concerned because he’d sensed interest on Brady’s part.
“Wishful thinking,” she muttered. Brady’s platonic hug and kiss on the cheek last week weren’t the actions of a man smitten by overpowering passion. He’d been attentive yesterday in town, but she suspected