What a Texas Girl Dreams (Crimson Romance) (8 page)

She looked out the window and drew in a deep breath. “I don’t do relationships. I don’t know how to be someone’s girlfriend. I don’t even know if I want that.”

“Good. I don’t know that I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“They why bring my family into this at all?”

He reached across the console and chuffed his hand under her chin. “Because I can see the possibilities.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

He shrugged, hoping she took the gesture as confidence that he knew exactly where this was going. In reality, the question chilled him to the core. Because if romancing Monica into a relationship didn’t work, he would lose both the possibility of an actual relationship and the comfort of the fling they’d engaged in for the past few weeks.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Why don’t you sit back, relax, and watch a little bit of Texas go by? We’ll be there in another hour or so.”

She settled against the leather seat. “Be where?”

“You’ll see.”

Just over an hour later, Trick turned off the highway onto a gravel road that looked a lot like the driveway to the Double Diamond. Green, rolling hills stretched to the horizon spotted with a few head of cattle and a few packs of glittering
coleche
. The bluebonnets were mostly gone, but a few hearty flower-souls remained on the hillsides, beckoning them down the lane.

“Are you still sticking with the mystery or do I get to know where you’re driving me?”

“Canyon Lake.”

“Yeah, I got that from the five hundred billboards on the highway. Where at Canyon Lake?”

“A secluded little place I know that packs the best picnics in the business.”

A hint of fire twinkled in her eyes when she turned to him. “So you outed us to my family, but a hundred miles away from Lockhardt you take discretion seriously?”

“First, I didn’t ‘out’ anything. As far as your family is concerned we’re going on a first date. As far as I’m concerned they don’t need to know anything else about the past seven weeks.”

“You’re splitting hairs.”

Trick ignored that and continued as if Monica hadn’t said a word. “Second, we aren’t a hundred miles away.” Trick grinned. “And where we’re going has nothing to do with discretion and everything to do with wanting some time — alone — with the prettiest girl in Texas.”

A blush spread over her cheeks, and the fire brightened in her eyes. Monica tossed back her hair. “I don’t do
things
on a first date.”

He chuckled. “Sweetheart, by the time we’re finished with lunch, you’ll be begging for it.”

“Is that a dare, Mr. Samuels?”

Trick thought about his dare from the night before. Daring Monica to kiss him had awakened a side of himself he hadn’t known existed. Today was a challenge to himself as much as it was to her. Monica didn’t do relationships. Until eighteen hours ago, Trick had been content to stick with her no strings rules. Ready or not, they were about to find out if there was more to the spark between them than sex.

“I believe it is, Miss Witte. What are your terms?”

• • •

Trying not to be charmed by Trick was hard work. And Monica had a feeling he wasn’t even half trying. She blamed the fall in Utah. Living twenty-four years without receiving flowers from a man. Being too attached to a veterinarian she should never have noticed.

Pick your poison,
she told herself. Any of the reasons would do.

Calling her the prettiest girl in Texas. Come on. No one fell for lines like those any longer. Especially girls who knew frizzy hair and freckled complexions were the farthest things from pretty. But he had sent her flowers and now he was driving her into the Texas wilderness and daring her not to have a good time, and she was falling for the scenario hook, line, and sinker.

Bright sunlight in the cab picked out the sun-bleached highlights in his hair. He reached for the radio knob, turning up an old Alabama song as they continued down the narrow road. He wore an old tee shirt and jeans, the same brown boots he wore on vet calls, and had a straw cowboy hat on his head. For a guy who wanted a ‘real’ date, he hadn’t dressed up at all.

They rounded a bend in the road, and a pretty clearing spread out before them. A few horse rails sat at odd junctures, and a path led into the trees. A trail ride? It would be easy to avoid Trick if they were on different horses, but already her sore hip throbbed at the thought of spending even a few minutes on horseback.

He pulled to a stop beneath a leafy oak and parked. In a flash, he was around the truck and standing in the open doorway.

“Now, here’s where you have to trust me.” He looked into her eyes for a long moment, and Monica felt herself slipping farther and farther into the fantasy of a first date and a real relationship. His big hands rested on her knees for a moment and then turned her so that her legs were outside the truck. Heat from his hands seared through her jeans, warming her after the coolness of the air-conditioning. “Take off your boots.”

The world snapped back into focus.

“Take off my what?”

“Your boots. Where we’re going you won’t need them.”

“Needing and wanting are two very different things.” Like how she needed her freedom, but wanted to be with him. Yeah. Two very different things.

He leaned a fraction closer to her, his lips a hair’s breadth away from hers and his fingers playing with the backs of her knees. Monica fought to keep her eyes open and on his. She curled her toes against the hard bottom of her boots as if that would keep them on her feet. She was not going on a trail ride without shoes.

“I’m very aware of the differences,” he said in a low voice. “So how about this: if you want to win the dare, you need to lose the boots.”

“We didn’t settle the stakes yet.”

A grin spread across his face. “Eager little thing, aren’t you?” He waggled his eyebrows and tossed his cowboy hat onto the back seat. Then, he opened the suicide door to the rear of the cab and pulled out two pairs of hiking boots. He held the smaller pair up for her inspection. “You’re an eight, right?”

He knew her shoe size? How did a man she didn’t let into her life know her shoe size? Curious, she took the hiking boots, slid the Luccheses off her feet, and tied the new, clunky pair around her ankles.

“So we’re going hiking? In the Hill Country when it’s ninety and blazing? I think your date-planning abilities need a little work.”

“Maybe. Terms?”

“Okay. If I survive this date without succumbing to heat stroke, I’ll cook you dinner sometime.”

“You can do better than that.” He lifted Monica down from the high seat and took her hand, leading her toward a trailhead. “I thought heat didn’t bother native Texans?”

“I didn’t say it bothered me. I just said it’s hot and probably not the best day for a hike.”

He nodded and then tilted his head to the sky as if considering the sunshine. “Well, I suppose we might need a little shade before long. Come on. Let’s go find some.”

Monica followed Trick at a leisurely pace. He didn’t have a picnic basket or backpack filled with water or food. So wherever they were going had to be close. She’d expected him to drive to a secluded beach at Canyon Lake, but the lake was nowhere to be seen. Excitement tickled her belly.

“How about this: if, by the end of this date, you haven’t changed the way you look at Texas, we’ll go back to the no-dinner-no-movie-just-sex kind of dating?”

“Why would I want to change the way I look at Texas? It’s my favorite place in the world.”

He shrugged one shoulder and took her hand so they were walking side by side along the trail. “What do you like best about Texas?”

“It’s familiar. Comfortable. It’s home.”

He nodded. “Maybe Texas can still surprise you. What do you say? Want to change your view of Texas just a little bit?”

Monica thought about that for a long moment. No, she didn’t want to change her view of Texas. It was hot and noisy and beautiful and quiet. She liked things just the way they were.

Still … She’d never known Trick to go for big gestures or to plan dates. Coming to the ranch, with flowers no less, and driving more than fifty miles to Canyon Lake in the middle of a workday had to mean a plan. A man with a plan was a dangerous thing. The single excited butterfly in her stomach morphed into an even dozen.

“And if I have changed the way I look at Texas?”

He looked down at her, his eyes darkening with some emotion she couldn’t quite read. An emotion that made her catch her breath.

“Then you know what happens next.”

Monica swallowed and concentrated on breathing normally. Yeah, she knew what happened next. This was a gauntlet. If she enjoyed a real date with Trick, it meant their relationship was changing whether she wanted it to, whether she was ready for it or not. They watched one another for a long moment. She didn’t want things to change, not with Trick. Already, the rest of her life was changing: her sisters were having babies; her horse was in rehab, her chance at winning a rodeo title this year off the table. And none of those reasons touched the deeper scars on her soul. Could she survive an actual, long-term relationship with Trick? Who would she be then? And what if he got to know the real Monica and found her lacking?

Trick’s hand tightened on hers. “So. A date?”

Wanting to date Trick, for real, would put the last constant of her old life in jeopardy.

“Okay.” The words whispered from her lips without her consent. Dating Trick Samuels. She might never be the same.

They topped the hill, and Monica stopped short.

The narrow trail opened to a quiet meadow with rich, green grass, dotted with wildflowers. Pink and yellow and blue blooms colored the ground before them, leading to the dark face of a cave opening. Candles flickered in the light breeze, beckoning them inside.

“I think it’s about time for some shade. Don’t you?” He took a step forward, tugging gently on her hand. Monica held firm. Texas girl or not, she was not walking willingly into a cave filled with bats and other small, crawly animals. She shook her head.

“Oh, no. I don’t do bats or spiders or scorpions, thankyouverymuch.”

“No bats. No spider webs to clean off the walls. Trust me.” He squeezed her hand and Monica took a small step forward.

Apparently her limits weren’t firm where Trickett Samuels was concerned.

His hand was warm around hers. His palm calloused where hers was smooth. She’d never noticed the texture of his hands before, at least not outside of how they made her feel when they were making love.

She liked them.

He paused at the opening of the cave so their eyes could adjust. Candles and Chinese lanterns lined the damp walls, casting a warm glow on the ribbons of rock and stalactites in the cool, open space. Monica inspected every inch, but didn’t detect a single movement. Didn’t mean there weren’t bats farther inside, though. She took a cautious step forward.

The interior was a milky white, but streaks of deep browns, reds, and golds created a rich canvas around them. The ground under their feet was level and smooth. Monica trailed her hand along the wall. Smooth, multicolored sections gave way to rougher, brown patches.

The path wound gently downward, around the limestone icicles overhead and past ribbons of chalky, pink formations. The tunnel rose several meters above them, giving the area a spacious, other-worldly feel. Trick pointed, directing her attention to a tiny waterfall that began at the ceiling, trickled over rock, and then spiraled down a stalactite to fall into a pool. Along the edge were natural, rock sculptures, in every muted color Monica had ever seen.

“It’s beautiful,” Monica breathed the words. Forget about the bugs and bats. This was the best hike she’d ever been on.

They followed the trail of candles and lanterns for a few more minutes, and then the pathway wound back uphill before opening to a wide room filled with wave upon wave of rock. Monica had seen pictures of rimrock dams before, but never in person. Each “wave” was dark brown at ground level and lightened to a cream color at its lip.

Monica took a step forward, reached out, and stopped. “Can I touch it?”

Trick nodded. The surface was smooth and chilly. Except for the trickle in the outer cave, whatever underground river might have been here, cascading over the rock, had disappeared beneath the surface, leaving behind the texture of silk.

“Why have I never been here before?”

“Because this is a private cave on private land and the owners aren’t interested in sharing, at least not on a large scale.”

Monica walked along the edge of the dam, trailing her fingers along the smooth ribbons of rock. “How do you know about this?”

“I went to school with the guy who owns it now. He runs a large-animal practice in Canyon Springs. The family has owned this cave and the land around it since before Davy and his boys fought it out with Santa Ana at the Alamo.” Trick was quiet for a long time, watching Monica, looking around the cave. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Like is an understatement.” Monica smiled at him. “How far underground are we?”

“Not far. It’s longer than it is deep.”

“I wish I had my camera. Have you told Jackson about it? He’d go nuts with this place.” Jackson, Kathleen’s husband, was a world-class photographer. He worked in New York and Los Angles, shooting everything from artsy images to modeling catalogs. She saw his show in New York last fall. He had captured everything she loved about Texas. Now she could add one more thing to that list. She glanced up to see Trick watching her. Okay, maybe two more things.

The thought made her swallow. She could fall head over heels for Trick Samuels, was maybe halfway there already.
Cowgirl up.
Fear had ruled enough of her life. Maybe it was time to take a chance on the unknown.

Trick tossed his phone to her. “Take a few shots and email them to yourself.” Monica pointed the phone at the dam and started clicking. “As for Jackson, a professional photographer selling pictures of their cave might make it difficult to keep the crowds away.”

Monica clicked off a few more photos. At her feet, a rock — pink, with flecks of black and brown — caught her attention. It looked like it might have fallen from the ceiling or maybe been knocked off a formation. Monica smoothed her thumb across the textured face and slipped it into her pocket.