Texas on My Mind Read online

  She also took a minute to steady her nerves. No way did she want Riley to hear she was shaken up by two words written by a woman who’d abandoned her.

  “Claire?” Riley greeted her.

  Just the sound of his voice calmed her. It excited her in a different way, too, but for now, she’d take it. Claire needed something that wasn’t dark and heart crushing.

  She scowled when she felt the little flutter in her stomach at the mere sound of his voice. “Eat any good brownies lately?” she asked.

  “Very funny. You might have run off Misty and Trisha, but you still left me here with three women barely old enough to be classified as women. And Trisha and Misty didn’t stay away. They returned and didn’t leave until the swing shift arrived.” He cursed, and he didn’t use any of the compromise words. “At least I haven’t been involved with any of them.”

  Not that batch. These were women from the historical society. Nobody under sixty in the bunch. Of course, it was possible one or two of them had the hots for Riley. He seemed to bring that out in women of all ages.

  “They won’t be coming back,” Riley continued. “Neither will the twins, their sister or the midmorning shift.”

  “Really? Trisha will be so disappointed.” But for reasons Claire didn’t want to explore, she actually felt good about disappointing Trisha. Probably because Trisha had used her 36-Ds to seduce Riley in high school.

  Seriously, who had boobs that big in the tenth grade?

  “Not sure disappointed is the right word for it,” Riley went on, “but she seemed upset that I didn’t want her here. Like I said, it’s nothing personal. I just need some peace and quiet.”

  “But not peace and quiet right now? Or are you calling to tell me I’m off breakfast duty tomorrow?”

  He huffed. “The peace and quiet doesn’t apply to you right now. And, yeah, you’re off breakfast duty.”

  Good grief. That stung. What she should feel was relief. Being around Riley wasn’t good for her. He was a forbidden-fruit kind of thing, and she didn’t need any more choices of fruit, fudge or bubblegum in her life.

  “All right. If you’re sure,” she said. “If you change your mind, though, just give me a call.” Claire was about to say goodbye, but she thought of that note. “By any chance, when we were about ten years old, did Gran ever say anything to you about giving me a letter?”

  “Letter?” Claire couldn’t be sure, but she thought maybe he hesitated. “What kind of letter?”

  “Don’t know. It was something she’d marked on her calendar, and I thought maybe you remembered it since you did some yard work for her around that same time.”

  Of course, it sounded stupid now that she’d said it aloud. At ten years old, Riley would have been less interested in some letter than in finishing the duties that Logan had no doubt volunteered him to do.

  “Sorry, I can’t help you.” Riley paused. Mumbled something she didn’t catch. Paused again. “But maybe you can help me. Is it my imagination or do some of those women who came over think I’m Ethan’s father?”

  Claire was so glad he wasn’t there to see her expression. She was certain she’d gone a little pale. “Uh, do they?”

  “Yeah. I heard some whispers about Ethan having my smile. As if anyone’s seen my smile since I got back. Has anyone come out and asked you if I’m his father?”

  Several dozen times. “Once or twice,” she settled for saying. “I denied it, but I don’t think they believed me.”

  “Even when you told them we’ve never had sex?”

  “Well, I didn’t really tell them that. I sort of hoped they would infer it when I said you’re not his father.”

  “They’re not inferring it right. They think the kid’s mine because he looks like me.”

  “Does he?” No way in hell on a good day would Claire confirm or deny that, and she could practically hear the next question that was about to come out of Riley’s mouth.

  Since I know I’m not Ethan’s father, who is?

  Claire decided to put an end to it before it started. “Get some rest, Riley. I’ll call you soon.” And before Riley could utter another word, or ask another question, she hung up.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  RILEY WAS SURE someone was watching him. Since this was downtown Spring Hill and not hostile territory, he wasn’t overly alarmed, but he could sense that someone had him under surveillance.

  He glanced around Main Street at the line of shops and buildings, including the Fork and Spoon Café, the bank and the pharmacy where Riley had just picked up a refill of his oxycodone. The biggest building, however, was the two-story Victorian inn that Logan had converted into headquarters for the family business. Logan had added a new sign in the past six months. McCord Cattle Brokers was emblazed on a copper-and-brass background.

  Classy.

  But then Riley hadn’t expected anything less from Logan. His brother was a ball-busting Renaissance man in a four-hundred-dollar cowboy hat.

  Since it was close to dinnertime, Riley hadn’t expected to see so many people milling around Main Street. None was especially looking at him, though he did get a friendly wave from Bert Starkley who was in the doorway of the café he owned.

  He got a not-so-friendly look, however, from Misty. The woman was coming out of the bank, but when Misty laid eyes on him, she whirled around and went back in. Clearly he’d ruffled some feathers by refusing her help, but he preferred that to some of the TLC that was being offered.

  Hell, Trisha had wanted to run his bath for him, and he didn’t think it was his imagination that she would have joined him in the sudsy oasis if he’d been agreeable. She’d also eyed that saddle on Lucky’s bed. Riley wasn’t in any shape for suds, saddles or Trisha.

  “Want a cold glass of sweet tea?” Bert called out to Riley. “It’s on the house for our local military hero.”

  “Thanks. If the offer’s still good tomorrow, I’ll take you up on it then,” Riley answered.

  Maybe.

  Riley made sure to smile. Hoped it didn’t look as forced and creepy as it felt, but it was something he was working on.

  He still wasn’t in a socializing kind of mood, but he had needed a flat surface to walk so he could get in some exercise. Only every other step hurt now. Well, all of them hurt, but only one out of two made him see gigantic stars. Riley figured that was a good sign. What wasn’t a good sign was that he still needed lots of pain meds to get through every minute of every hour.

  And then there were the flashbacks.

  Since the bad one two nights ago, he’d kept them from trying to claw their way to the surface. “Jingle Bells” and a good mental boot stomping had worked. Temporarily. But he needed another weapon in his arsenal. Sex, maybe. Lately, he’d been thinking a lot about sex.

  And Claire.

  Too bad he’d been thinking about them at the same time.

  When he got the niggling feeling again that he was being followed, Riley glanced quickly behind him and spotted the twins. Not exactly being stealth-like because he heard them giggling before they darted into their grandfather’s store. He hoped they’d stay there. He didn’t want to see any glimmer of a nipple.

  “Just admiring the view,” one of them called out. And giggled again.

  The view being his butt. Now, normally he would have been flattered by something like that, but if Wilbert found out that his backside was the object of his young granddaughters’ attention, then Riley would have one more riled citizen on his hands. He’d get that sweet tea all right—dumped on his head.

  Riley picked up the pace in case the twins came in pursuit, and he ducked down the side street just as his phone rang. It was his sister, Anna, the one person he did want to have a talk with, and that’s why he’d already left her two messages. If she hadn’t been all the way over in Florida
where she was attending college near her military fiancé, Riley would have gone after her for a face-to-face chat.

  “Don’t you know I have certain skills that make it dangerous to piss me off?” Riley said when he answered.

  “And how did I piss you off?” Anna didn’t pause, didn’t miss a beat, which meant she’d no doubt been expecting his surly protest.

  “When I got home, I found two women in my bed.”

  “Okay. And I guess you want to thank me for that?” she teased.

  “No. They’re young women. Too young. And you sent a team of women to my house to babysit me.”

  “I heard about you giving Della and Stella time off. I knew Logan would be busy because he’s, well, Logan, and Lucky is, well, Lucky. I couldn’t be there with you, so I made a few calls to let people know you’d be at the house. Alone. While recovering from an injury that could have killed you.”

  Oh, man. Anna’s voice trembled on that last handful of words, and Riley felt the tremble tug right at his gut. “I’m okay.”

  “Yes, because you got lucky. Don’t bullshit me. That shrapnel was just an inch from your heart.”

  “Shrapnel I got because I was trying to rescue a kid from a very bad situation.” And that’s all he could and would say about it.

  Jingle bells... Jingle bells...

  Anna didn’t argue. Wouldn’t. But she wouldn’t just accept this, either, because she was his kid sister, and it was in her job description to worry about him and nag him. “Look, I’m not asking you to give up what you do. You love it. You’re good at it. And it’s you. I’m just asking for you to accept their help so you can recover.”

  “I did accept help. Some. Those women stocked the fridge, brought over even more food. And Claire fixed me breakfast.” Which reminded him of something else he wanted to ask. “Claire’s got a kid. Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

  “Because I thought it was something you’d eventually want to tell me. Ethan’s your son, right?”

  Riley found himself cursing again. “Jesus H. No, he’s not. Why does everyone think that?”

  Anna made a sound of mock contemplation. “Hmm. Maybe because it’s true?”

  “It’s not. I’ve never had sex with Claire. She’s Daniel’s girl.”

  “Yes,” Anna stretched that out a few syllables. “In high school, she was. I just figured you two had hooked up since then.”

  “I can’t move in on a best friend’s girl even when the girl becomes an ex. That’s man-rule number three—never take anything that’s not yours.”

  “Even when the relationship happened in high school?” No teasing tone this time. Just lots and lots of skepticism.

  “Even then. It’s a forever and ever amen thing.”

  “Sheez. Who makes up these stupid rules?” she asked.

  “Men. Real men. Including me. Besides, Daniel might not be her ex. I’m thinking they’re back together and that he’s the kid’s father.”

  “Did you ask Claire about that?”

  Well, he hadn’t gotten a chance because she’d hung up on him. “It’s none of my business.”

  More of those hmm-ing sounds. “But you’re curious or you wouldn’t have just asked me to gossip about it.”

  “Man-rule again. It’s not gossip if the dirt comes from a sibling. Especially a sibling who owes her brother because said sibling unleashed a horde of horny females on him.”

  “I’m not speculating about Claire, her sexual partners or her exes. But I’m scratching my head over that so-called rule and code. Men are idiots,” she concluded.

  Perhaps in a woman’s mind, but it still made sense to Riley. Rules kept him grounded and marked his territory. Marked others’ territories, too. “You’re engaged to a man. One who no doubt has some codes and rules since he wears a uniform just like me. How’s Heath by the way?”

  Even though he couldn’t see her face, he figured that got her to smile. “He’s enjoying me.”

  Riley winced. “I don’t want to know that. You’re my kid sister, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re an eternal virgin.”

  “Thank God you’re wrong about that. Heath’s enjoying me a lot. Oh, and his new instructor job. Surprised?”

  Yeah, about the new job. But then maybe not. Since Heath Moore and Anna had gotten engaged, Heath had settled down some. That restless streak in him wasn’t so restless, and last Riley had spoken to Heath, he was talking about the possibility of them having a wedding as soon as Anna finished law school.

  Riley wasn’t sure how a Combat Rescue Officer went from heart-stopping, life-on-the-line missions to being a fiancé with a desk job, but it had worked for Heath. Riley was thankful for it, too, since the happiness of both his sister, and future nieces and nephews was at stake.

  “Tell Heath hello for me,” Riley said, ending the call, and he was still in the process of putting his phone away when he practically ran into the woman who was coming out of the side entrance of the What’s Old Is New antiques shop.

  Trisha.

  No brownies with her today. Nor was that a gobbling smile. Trisha gave him a cool glance instead. Still riled, apparently.

  “Going to Claire’s?” she asked, also cool-ish.

  “Huh?” Riley looked up, to see exactly where he was, and, yep, he was only about a half block from Claire’s place.

  It wasn’t intentional. It was just the way the town was laid out. All roads here didn’t lead to Rome but rather to Claire’s grandmother’s old house.

  “I’ve heard rumors,” Trisha said before he could say anything else. “I heard Claire isn’t really going to sell her grandmother’s house, that she’s too attached to it.”

  All right. So not a rumor about his alleged fatherhood. And Riley had heard that same rumor about the house, as well, from the swing shift crew before he’d dismissed them.

  “Understandable, I suppose,” Trisha went on, examining her nails. Then his crotch. “Claire loved her grandmother and was happy living there with her. I mean, after her mother dumped her and all.”

  Yes, and all was a good way to sum up the emotional shit Claire had likely gone through. Not that she’d ever shared that with him. Claire wasn’t the shit-sharing type.

  “I’m not sure how Daniel will feel about Claire staying here, though,” Trisha added. “He’d probably rather see her back at her place in San Antonio since it’s so close to where he lives.”

  It seemed like a good time for Riley to answer with “Oh.” It was a noncommittal answer, didn’t really encourage gossip, but hearing anything about Daniel did pique his interest.

  Trisha fluttered her perfectly manicured fingers toward the small shop across the street. Over the years, it’d been a bakery, a florist and a bookstore. All had come and gone, but there was no sign on the front now.

  “That’s Daniel’s office,” she supplied. “He only uses it a couple of times a month when he’s showing property in the area, but he’s been using it a lot more since Claire returned.”

  “So, they’re back together.” Riley hadn’t actually planned on saying that aloud, but he sort of had to say something when Trisha stopped talking.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on between them. What does Claire say about it?”

  “Not much.” Not to him anyway.

  “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?” she asked. Another glance at his crotch.

  Normally he wouldn’t have minded glances like that, but Riley nodded since those glances and her question seemed like the start of an invitation he didn’t want to get and wasn’t in any shape to accept.

  “Yes, I’m seeing someone. Her name is Jodi.” It was an on-again, off-again relationship.

  Mostly off.

  Heck, who was he kidding?

  It wasn’t on with Jodi even when they we
re together. She was a friend he had sex with. A no-strings-attached kind of friend, which suited them both just fine. Not that he was totally opposed to strings and rings, but in his experience most women didn’t want to get into a long relationship with a man whose job description included deployments into direct combat.

  “Jodi’s a photographer,” Riley added just because he felt he should be adding something.

  “A photographer, like Claire?” Trisha made a weird little sound that made this seem like a big coincidence.

  Or no coincidence at all.

  Nope, they weren’t going there. Plenty of people knew he’d been hung up on Claire, but that didn’t mean he chose facsimiles of her to take to bed.

  “Jodi does combat photos for a couple of big magazines and newspapers.” The opposite of Claire, who shot wedding and engagement pictures. In fact, the only thing Jodi and Claire had in common was the general overall label of photographer. And the blond hair.

  Yeah, the green eyes, too. But other than that, they were nothing alike.

  Trisha blinked. “Oh.”

  That had a liar-liar-pants-on-fire ring to it. One that Riley didn’t like much. Of course, there wasn’t much about this conversation he did like. “I thought you’d be back in Austin by now,” he threw out there.

  “Not yet. I decided to take some time off to catch up with friends and make sure you’re doing as well as you claim. Besides, I can do most of my work from here anyway.” She moved an inch closer. “Riley, you know if you ever need my help or whatever, all you have to do is ask?”

  He did know. He also knew what that whatever entailed, too. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

  Liar-liar-pants-on-fire came in the form of a frown this time. “The offer stands.” The frown was still on her mouth when she checked her phone. “I should be going. Enjoy your visit with Claire.”

  Since Trisha didn’t move and since she appeared to be waiting for him to head in Claire’s direction, that’s what Riley did after they exchanged cheek kisses, goodbyes and one final crotch glance.