Sweet Texas Charm (17 page)

She snapped her fingers.
Boots
. That’s what she should get Coop as a thank-you gift. “I need your help with something.” She grabbed her purse from the dressing room, pulling out her phone. “Coop should be at my desk right now, and I told him I would call if we are running late, so he should pick up. Find out his shoe size.”

“For what?”

“Just do it.” Becca punched in her work number and handed Tangie the phone while she went in to change.

Tangie laughed from behind the stall. “Now you want his shoe size. Sure you’re not interested?”

“I’m not. I’m just doing something nice. If Grayson ever did anything to help me to further Guac Olé, I’d buy him boots, too,” she said sarcastically. Seriously, hell would freeze over before that ever happened.

• • •

Grayson clicked on the Excel sheet, entering in some final figures. The blood was flowing, and it felt good to be doing the work he was good at. The business plan he and Becca had come up was freakin’ genius.

He picked up the strawberry key chain his dad had given him. Maybe working with this woman was the answer to his father’s question because damn, he’d never been happier. He placed it back in his jeans pocket so as not to lose it.

Brainstorming ideas with Becca night after night as they pored over the proposal, coming up with product placements, and crunching numbers together had been a major turn on. He’d had to stop himself several times when she scooted her chair closer or looked over his shoulder, wishing that he could pull her into his arms, clear the desk with a swipe of his hand, and show her how much he wanted her right then and there.

He shifted at that thought and hit save on his Excel sheet just as Tangie popped her head in. “Okay, are you ready?”

He glanced up from his computer. “Ready for what?”

“To see Becca, of course. She objected to putting on her new threads until the meeting, but I talked her into it so that she’d start to get comfortable in them.”

“New threads,” he repeated.

“Coop, let me present Ms. Sassy Suit.”

“Stop calling me that.” Becca passed Tangie, and his heart stopped.

She was stunning—albeit almost unrecognizable—in a black suit jacket and skirt that showed off her gorgeous tanned legs. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek and sexy bun.

“You look incredible,” he said in his own voice but was quick to add in a Coop-like accent, “Prettiest lady in all of Guac Olé.”

“Isn’t she?” Tangie fussed with Becca’s hair. “You’d hardly recognize her in this disguise.”

He gulped at the word “disguise.” “How do you feel, Becca?”

“Like a fish out of water, or more like an elephant on roller skates.” She was a little unsteady in her black high heels. “I’ve been trying to get used to these all evening. I don’t understand how some women can wear these every day of the workweek. If I get through tonight without chucking them in the garbage bin it’ll be a miracle.”

Tangie wiggled her nose at the thought. “Don’t you even consider it. They’ll stretch. Give them a chance.”

Becca took a seat and rolled her chair next to him. Her sweet vanilla scent swarmed around him like it had the last three nights. He could get used to this routine.

 “What are you working on?” she asked.

“Just inputting some of the last few figures we talked about.”

“This is where you two go all brainy on me.” Tangie snapped her gum. “And my cue to leave. I’ll see you both on Monday. You still doing the yoga poses I taught you, Coop?”

“Yes, ma’am.” That was no lie. That nifty little stretch while bouncing on his toes was a real lifesaver when he felt his back was about to break.

She started to leave but turned. “Oh, Becca. I’ll put the other item we bought in your locker. It’s still open.”

“Thanks, Tangie, for all your help. I’ll see you next week.” She pulled a notepad off the desk and clicked her pen. “Can I see that last spreadsheet?”

“Sure.” He clicked it open, and her blazer touched his arm as she leaned over. The irony that he was dressed in his beat-up work jeans and cheap black T-shirt while she was decked out in a suit was not lost on him. How was it that in two weeks they had completely traded roles?

“Are you ready to finish this?” he asked, a little sad that the proposal would be done after tonight. His ruse as Coop would be ending, too. Since he obviously couldn’t go to the meeting with Becca as Coop
and
Grayson, tonight would be the last time Becca saw him in this getup.

He wasn’t sure what lie he’d tell, but he had no plans to return to Guac Olé on Monday morning as Coop Jackson.

He clicked the mouse, and they got to work. Two hours later, Grayson typed in the last word as Becca dictated while she paced back and forth.

“I think it’s done.” He smiled up at her. She’d taken off her jacket, the blue top showing off her sexy, toned arms.

As the document printed, Becca sat down and kicked off her heels. What he wouldn’t give to pull her legs onto his lap and give her a celebratory foot massage.

“I can’t believe we’re done.”

“You’re going to knock their socks off.” He stood and picked up her shoes, handing them to her. “Are you going to make it home tonight in those?”

“Probably not.” She laughed and took the shoes, wedging her feet back into them. “Oh my God, I almost forgot. I have something for you. Follow me.” She grabbed his arm, like he had hers three days earlier, leading him to the break room. Funny how they had come full circle.

He was proud of what they’d been able to accomplish. They were quite a team.
A team.
He let those words soak in while she pulled a large, rectangular box out of her locker.

“Have a seat,” she instructed, pointing to the bench.

He narrowed his eyes, but did what she said. What was she up to?

“So, earlier tonight, Tangie called and asked for your shoe size.”

“Right.” He’d forgotten all about the call. He glanced down at the cheap rubber-soled shoes Meg had given him. “Are these against regulation?” he asked.

“No. Not at all.” She handed him the box. “I just thought you might enjoy these for when you’re not working.”

She’d bought him a present.
Why? “You bought me shoes?”

“You’ll see. Open it.” She sat down next to him. “Go on.”

Grayson smiled and shifted on the bench, pulling up on the box’s lid. His eyes widened as he pushed back the tissue paper to see a pair of black leather cowboy boots. “These are for me?”

“Yes.” She clapped her hands. “You’ve done so much for me—for all of us here—in an incredibly short amount of time. I wanted to say thank you.”

Grayson eyed the boots. No one he’d worked with had ever given him a gift before, with the exception of Eleanor, who always gave him one of her fruitcakes for Christmas. Becca’s thoughtfulness warmed him inside, and for once, he was completely speechless. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

She pulled one boot out and handed it to him. “Try them on. If they don’t fit, we can return them and get another size.”

He slid off his shoe and she gasped.

“What?”

“Why are you wearing Grayson’s socks?”

Crap. He’d put on his normal avocado socks. “Um … busted. I haven’t gotten around to doing my laundry this week. Grayson lent them to me. Did you know the guy has a pair for every day of the week?”

“Yeah, I learned that recently. Not that I know anything else about his undergarments.”

“Of course not.” He couldn’t help but notice that her cheeks were turning pink.

She grabbed a boot and scooted onto the floor. “Here, let me help you.”

Grayson did his best to hold back the desire that pulsed through him as Becca helped him try on the pair. Finally, he stood. Wow. They were surprisingly comfortable, nothing like the ones Meg had given him. He could actually move around easily in these, which he proved by walking from one end of the break room to the other. Good-bye, Prada loafers. These were amazing.

“Do you like them?” she asked, smiling down at the boots.

“You know, I do.” He did a couple of heel-toes. “I’ve never tried a pair”—he corrected himself—“other than the really cheap ones I’ve had for years.”

He sat down and so did she, both staring at their feet. “Maybe it was time we both tried on new shoes.”

That got a light chuckle. “Maybe you’re right.”

He stood and offered her his hand. “Give the heels a try. Two weeks from now, you’ll have five more pairs just like them stacked in your closet.”

She let him help her up. “Somehow I doubt it.”

Her soft hand lingered in his for a few seconds. Before he knew what was happening, she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for everything, Coop. I would have never had the courage to do this alone.”

He hugged her back. What he was about to do was wrong on so many levels, but he needed to feel her lips on his. He lowered his mouth to hers, closing his eyes.

“Coop.” She pulled away. “I’m so sorry.”

He stepped back, rubbing his beard and shaking his head. “No, I should be the one apologizing.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I mean, you’re great.” She moved the shoe box and took a seat. “It’s just, I’m—”

“You don’t owe me any explanation.” Truth be told, he was grateful that she had moved away. Sure, he could fake an accent, but he wasn’t quite sure how he’d kiss differently.

“Remember the guy who sent me flowers?” she asked.

He took a seat next to her. Where she was going with that question could be quite good. “The ones you wanted to throw away?”

“Yeah.” She played with her top for a few seconds before looking over at him. “I sort of like him.” She looked up at the ceiling and blew out a breath. “I mean, I like him. Like,
really
like him.”

She likes me?
That revelation caused his heart to race. “Why do you sound like it’s the worst thing in the world?”

She stood and went over to her locker, opening it back up. “It’s complicated. Like, seriously complicated.” She pulled out her purse and slid it over her shoulder. “Plus, he doesn’t feel the same way.”

Like hell I don’t.
How could she possibly think—after the incredible kiss they’d shared—that he wasn’t into her? Did she think he casually made out with just any Guac Olé employee? “Have you talked to him?”

“No, and I don’t even think there’s a point, really. I’m not his type.” She smiled and pointed to his boots. “I do hope you like your present.”

“I love them, and I’ve loved my time here.” He meant each and every word of that response. “I don’t know who this guy is, but if you have strong feelings for him, you should tell him.” He added, “He probably feels the same way about you.”

“Maybe.”
She pulled her keys out of her purse. “Well, I guess I should get going. I’ll see you Monday in the Legacy conference room at ten a.m.”

“I’ll see you Monday. I promise to wear a suit.” That last part wasn’t exactly a lie, since he would definitely be in a suit. He’d also be sitting in his usual seat at the head of the boardroom table.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, his fingers feeling the key chain. Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled it out and called out Becca’s name.

“Yes?”

“I wanted to give you this. I got it as a good luck charm for you on account of the strawberries in your guacamole and all.” He doubted that was the reason his father had given him the key chain, but it was a remarkable coincidence, and the perfect re-gift. He handed it over.

She stared down at the tiny charm. “Thank you,” she said, smiling shyly. “This is so thoughtful. Have a good weekend.”

She said one last good-bye and left the break room, her heels clicking as she exited the building. She’d forgotten to shut her locker, so he walked over to close it. His gaze fixed on a picture of Becca with whom he assumed was her mom and dad. They appeared to be at some July Fourth celebration.

She likes me.
That was great news. He should be fist-pumping the air, but there was one problem. His eyes shifted to a year-at-a-glance calendar with September first circled in red.

How was she going to feel if she ever found out that he’d duped her?

Becca pulled out of the assisted living home, driving in the direction of her studio apartment on the east side of Sweet Ridge. Rolling down her window and cranking up her radio, she decided to take the back roads and enjoy the fresh evening air that, thankfully, wasn’t as oppressive as it normally was this time of year.

It’d been a good day. Her mother seemed happy and continued to adjust to her new surroundings and different routine. The transition was smoother than Becca had expected, and that made her sleep better at night. Her mom was getting the care and attention she needed. The move this summer had been the right thing to do.

She slowed down at the road’s fork, glancing at the beautiful two-story house high on top of the hill. She’d come this way with her mom earlier when she brought her home after a day in town getting her hair done, strolling the shops along Main Street, and dinner at the diner.

Becca stared hard at the white house with black shutters, not making a move to go any farther. It wasn’t like there would be anyone behind her to blow a horn if she stayed put for a minute or two.

It was in this spot that her mother’s overall good mood had done a one-eighty, and she began to cry.

What was it that had made her so sad? Whatever it was, her mom had forgotten about it by the time they pulled into the assisted living home, and they enjoyed the homemade apple pie that Betty Lou had sent home with them.

She hit the accelerator and turned right, passing the house. She knew exactly who lived there. It was the house Jack Cooper had left to Charlotte in his will. It was also the “scene of the crime” fifteen years ago, when she’d catered Grayson’s graduation party. That humiliation came rushing back.

Stop it
, she scolded herself. It was a long time ago.

Still, the memory of bursting through the trailer and fleeing to her room wasn’t one your pride forgot easily. That dreadful night, her mom had come in with two bowls of cookie dough ice cream and stayed up with her for hours, drying her tears. Maybe that’s why her mother had lost it earlier. Could she have been remembering how horrible that evening had been for her daughter?