Back to Texas Read online

  "I don't want to know." He didn't want to acknowledge the new wave of possessiveness sweeping through him, either. The first had caught him off guard in the parking lot. He could ignore a second.

  "Yes, you do." She caught his hand and tugged, pulling him to his feet. "Because if I don't tell you, you can't be all gruff and over-possessive and turn me on. And I really, really want to be turned on." She kissed him again, a lingering brush of lips against his.

  "Sela, we shouldn't --"

  "If you don't stop complaining, I'm going to think you have regrets." She let go of his hand and went to her bags. "I don't want to be a regret, Marcus. I won't be. So you're just going to have to accept what happened. And take me to dinner. But first."

  She crossed the room toward him. "Hold out your hand."

  Marcus did, a little warily. "What's this?"

  Sela laid a simple golden band against his palm. "Your wedding ring, sweetheart." She beamed and held up another, delicate and fancy, with a diamond solitaire. "And mine."

  He had to laugh and shook his head as he slipped the band on his finger. "Surprise, surprise, it's just the right fit. Do you think of everything?"

  "Almost. Lucky for you," she teased. She offered him the solitaire then held out her left hand. "Put it on?"

  Marcus froze with the surprisingly tiny ring caught between his fingers. Damn. "Sela, we can't --"

  "I've got it covered," she interrupted and waggled her outstretched hand a bit. "Please?"

  He could have argued. Probably should have to reestablish the line. There had to be a limit to how far they'd go. He shook his head instead and caught her hand, steadying it as he slipped the ring in place. "There."

  "Man and wife," she murmured. "Closest I'll ever get to a real wedding anyway." She flashed him a quick grin and headed for the door. She held it open and cocked her head. "Well? I'm starving."

  "And what the lady wants, she gets?"

  Sela laughed. "You're learning."

  Chapter Three

  Tyler didn't have a crush on Sela anymore. He also didn't have a reason to eat in the main dining room. He tried and failed to convince himself of both facts again as he pushed a pile of corn toward his mashed potatoes, mixing them together for variety.

  Corn and potatoes. Not exactly an analogy for Sela and Marcus, he admitted to himself. Sela might make up the starchy, stick-to-the-ribs portion, as Tyler certainly hadn't been able to forget her, even after ten years apart, but Marcus would never pass for corn. He'd have to have a sense of humor to be corny and Tyler had a hard time imagining that the big man could smile.

  Tyler made more sense as the corn in that equation. He'd grown up closer to Kansas than Marcus had, he was willing to bet. Cities and dark alleys seemed more his style. Concrete basketball courts and chain link fences, not rolling plains and wide, blue skies. Sure, he'd been dressed nicely but clothes didn't make the man, to argue the old saying. Anyone could put on a suit and claim to be civilized.

  He wasn't the only one who'd watched them when they wandered in tonight. Marcus had his arm wrapped around Sela's shoulders and she walked close at his side, her arm around his waist. She looked happy and he looked content, at least. They just didn't fit together. He didn't fit.

  He was headed straight for Tyler's table, a dinner tray in his hands. He hesitated for a moment once he'd stopped moving. He glanced over his shoulder at where Sela stood, still choosing what she wanted to eat. He cleared his throat and asked, "Do you mind if we sit with you?"

  Tyler flinched but shook his head. "Nah. No. Of course not." He pulled his plate closer to his side of the table and watched Marcus unload his tray. The man could eat, which shouldn't have surprised him. Took a lot to keep a body like that going. Still, it'd been a while since Tyler had seen someone put down that many plates for just one meal.

  "Must have been one heck of a drive," he offered conversationally. "Can't think of a road in from anywhere that's got much on it other than scrub brush or cattle. Not exactly what you're used to, being from DC, I guess."

  Marcus smiled in return, just a hint of even, startlingly white teeth behind his lips. Perfect teeth, with not a hint of gold or stainless steel about them. "I grew up in Virginia. My parents own a farm. Different sort of landscape, but I know all about the middle of nowhere."

  Score one for Marcus. How did that saying about assumptions go again? "So leaving farm country must have been a shock."

  "Not really. I interned for a summer before I went to Georgetown. I knew what I was getting in to."

  "Georgetown," Tyler echoed.

  "International politics." Marcus offered another faint smile. "I had plans to become president."

  Tyler wrinkled his forehead. "On what platform?"

  Marcus took a breath to answer, stopped himself and smiled again. No, he grinned, wide and warm. He even chuckled and ducked his head, sawing pieces off the steak he'd chosen. "Neither politics nor religion belong at the dinner table. Nice try though."

  Score two. "You're right, I'm sorry. President's big. Not out of the running yet, I guess."

  Marcus shook his head. "My heart's not in it anymore. I'll save the campaigning for those who really want it." He paused with his fork held over his plate.

  Tyler looked away to let the other man eat in peace. Sela hadn't joined them yet and now he saw why. Aunt Viv stood framed in the kitchen doorway, hands propped on her ample hips, grinning broadly. No doubt Sela'd asked her to share some gossip about him in the years they'd been apart. Viv would gladly supply anything she wanted to know and apologize to Tyler later. Some things never changed.

  "She likes to talk," Marcus said, stealing Tyler's attention again. "Has as long as I've known her. Let her get a word in edgewise and it's all over."

  Tyler looked toward where she stood again, her tray forgotten now as she listened raptly to Viv's story. His aunt gestured grandly and Sela laughed, right on cue. "Yeah," he agreed. "She's always been that. She used to have full conversations with the guy sleeping on the street corner when we went for coffee. Sometimes I thought he knew more about her than I did."

  He didn't know anything about her now. He considered the big man across the table from him and took a long drink of water, clearing his throat as he put it down. "So how'd the two of you meet?"

  Marcus grinned fondly and jealousy kicked in Tyler's gut. "Basketball. We met at a basketball game."

  "You were playing?"

  One dark eyebrow twitched. "Watching," Marcus answered after another second's pause. "A homecoming game at Georgetown. I went back to visit friends a couple years behind me. She was there with a date she wanted to lose. Literally ran into me trying to get out the door. She apologized, we started talking." His shoulders rose and fell. "History."

  "Huh. She wasn't much on sports in college."

  "She still isn't." Sela dropped a hand on one of Marcus’s shoulders, startling both of them. She grinned broadly. "I should have known better than to leave the two of you together. Men and their sweaty games." She put down her tray and settled in the chair beside Marcus.

  Tyler dragged his thoughts back from places they had no business going. Those weren't the sort of games she meant. He remembered how she'd liked to play them, though. He'd make plans to take her out of town for the weekend and she'd undo every last one, distracting him in bed. And in the bathroom. And in the stacks of the library ...

  "I didn't mean to kill the conversation," she said, nearly laughing as she glanced between them both. Understanding sparkled in her eyes a moment later. "I see. You were talking about me." She gave in and laughed at them when they tried to deny it. "Don't let me stop you. What about that Sela Reeves?"

  Tyler couldn't help but grin. "I just asked Marcus how the two of you met."

  "Basketball," she answered without missing a beat. "I was on a date with the world's most boring guy and --"

  A cell phone went off, chirping cheerfully. Marcus put his fork down and plucked it off his belt. He peered at the faceplate
and glanced up at Sela with a thin smile. "Uncle Jerry."

  "I'll take it." She held out her hand and Marcus passed her the phone. "I haven't talked to him in so long." She stood and gestured at them, then her plate. "You guys keep talking. Take notes for me. And don't eat my food." Marcus held up both hands when she leveled a finger at him. She winked and grinned, then the phone chirped again. She lifted the cover and pressed it to her ear, then wandered off, saying, "You have the worst timing, Uncle Jerry."

  Tyler's gaze met Marcus’s as they both looked back from watching her saunter out the door. Tyler cleared his throat. "She's something else. Congratulations."

  "Never really get over her, do you?" The question surprised him but Marcus didn't look angry. He held Tyler's gaze another second then went back to his meal, scooping potatoes and corn alike onto the edge of his fork.

  Tyler watched his hands. He felt safer that way. He couldn't give away old regrets if Marcus couldn't see his eyes. "No, you never do."

  * * * * *

  "Uncle Jerry?"

  Sela closed the door to the cabin and toed out of her shoes. "It's better than being my obnoxious little brother Jer, isn't it, sir?" She knew Jerome Marano, the chief agent on the phone, could hear the laughter in her voice. It was disrespectful and far too casual. She barely managed to keep from laughing aloud.

  "By a very thin margin," he allowed. His voice sounded tight, but the suspiciously-timed cough made Sela grin.

  "You know we like it up here on the knife's edge, sir."

  "Oh, I know. My ulcers and I don't appreciate it, but I know you like to test me." His sigh echoed through the phone. "I assume, judging by the fact that you're all but laughing at me, that you made it to the resort safely."

  "Safe and sound and all in one piece." Sela sat on the edge of the bed, then stretched out on her back and pushed herself up the mattress so her legs wouldn't hang. "It's a nice place. Much better than the place in San Diego."

  "You're never going to let me live that down."

  Sela's grin widened, unseen. "No sir. At least not for another couple of months. It's too much fun to complain."

  "The day you get it out of your system, I'll throw a party. We saw Hughes's equipment come online. I'm assuming everything's in working order."

  She rolled to her side to consider the cameras and computers taking up a good portion of the bedroom. The machines were Marcus’s area of expertise, but she knew enough to get by and to answer questions. "He's run a full diagnostic and checked the signal strength on everything. We'll do a tap run on the buildings tonight after the resort staff's all gone to bed."

  "Good. We're going to need eyes and ears. The schedule's moved up by two days."

  As much as Sela liked to give the chief a hard time, she also knew when to take her job seriously. She sat up and frowned through the bedroom doorway. Now would be a good time for Marcus to decide to check up on his lovely wife. "Moved up? What's happening?"

  Jerome heaved another sigh and she heard his chair creak as he sat. The sound echoed, proof that he had her on the speaker phone. She only had a moment to wonder who else might be listening before the senior agent spoke again. "Our contact got a little twitchy last time he went in. One thing led to another, he started spouting paranoid what-if theories about being watched and tracked and such. His higher ups dismissed it at the time, but we've got a shipment rolling from Mexico City tonight and the buzz down the line is it hits Texas in seventy-two hours."

  Sela flinched. "Seventy-two. Chief ..."

  "Nothing I can do to slow it down." She pictured him in her mind's eye, hands held out to the sides helplessly. "We jump in now, we risk blowing the whole operation. Lucky for us, I've got my two best agents on the job."

  "Flattery's nice, sir, but it doesn't make us superheroes. It's still just Hughes and me."

  "Flores, Jacobi and Hawthorne will be there with backup to rendezvous with you when the shipment comes in."

  It didn't change the numbers in the meantime. Sela had no way of knowing just how big an operation might be working on resort property. With the sort of firepower the chief had mentioned, she had a feeling she and Marcus were in deep.

  "Nothing like a little challenge to keep us on our toes," she said, forcing cheerfulness while she tried to lay the groundwork for a faster mission in her head. Making friends with Tyler again had just become her priority. She needed to pick his brain, meet everyone of import at the Lone Tree, and do it while keeping him ignorant.

  No problem. No sweat.

  "I'll talk to Hughes. We'll call you in twenty-four, sir."

  "That's what I like to hear. We're counting on you, Sela."

  She hung up and crashed back on the bed again. "Yes, sir. I know."

  Chapter Four

  "Wish I could have stayed at dinner."

  Sela's voice cut through the sound of horses moving. It rose above the rasp and rustle of mucking out stalls. His traitorous heart leapt into a gallop. Seven words from her and he was hooked. No, he'd fallen under her spell again the minute he saw her. He'd forgotten to check the schedule to see how long they were staying. He needed to know how long his torture would last.

  Marcus turned out to be an all right kind of guy. They'd talked a while after Sela left for the phone call. There was no denying that the big guy loved her. Every word, every little smile as they talked about the past made that clear.

  If he'd been an asshole or needlessly smug, it would have made things easier. Tyler could justify the pulse of hope that shot through him at the sound of her voice. Maybe he'd get a second chance. Maybe last night's dreams would become reality.

  Old memories tumbled through his mind like home movies of the most explicit kind. He thought he'd forgotten the sound of her sighs and the high-pitched, breathy noises she made when he dove into her body, driving her toward a climax. Last night, he got Technicolor proof that he'd thought wrong.

  "I usually eat alone."

  Sela laughed. "That's new. You used to cook for me, remember? Feed me until I thought I'd explode." She moved, her voice drifting closer. "Friday night dates of dinner and a movie. I'd sit in your lap and you'd feed me popcorn and say it was good for me."

  Tyler smiled at the reminder. "Better than those jujubes or whatever they hell they were that you ate."

  "There's nothing wrong with jujubes." She leaned against the open stall door now, arms folded on the wood. "They were better than eating chocolate."

  "Now I know you're a grown up for sure. Claiming something's better than chocolate? Is the world coming to an end?"

  "Hush, you." She lapsed into silence. He imagined that she watched him while he worked, her gaze making a warm spot between his shoulder blades. "What are the odds, Tyler? Have you stopped to think?"

  "I haven't stopped thinking since I saw you yesterday."

  He cringed inwardly. Too much confession. It made him sound desperate and, no matter the truth, the needy man never got the girl. Never mind that she'd married someone else. She could always make him speak without thinking. She told him once that she liked the fact that he spoke his mind. He'd never worked up the courage to confess he didn't do it on purpose.

  He cleared his throat and scattered another layer of fresh straw over the floor of the stall. "So what brought up the food thing, anyway?"

  "It's one of my favorite memories. One of the best things I remember about you. About us." She moved again, straw crunching under her shoes as she stepped into the stall behind him. His next breath swelled with the scent of her, the same almost-sweet shampoo she'd used years ago over the warmer musk of her skin.

  The sort of scent that went straight to his groin. His cock swelled against the fly of his jeans. He gripped the handle of the pitchfork tighter. He still had work to do. "What are you doing out here, Sela?"

  Her arm brushed his as she stopped beside him. He must have imagined the way she leaned against him, subtle shift of weight that could be accidental. Had to be. He wanted more. "I came looking for you,
of course. To talk about that tour. We really do want to see everything."

  "Does he know you're out here?"

  Tyler felt the change in her before he saw it. She stiffened, straightening so she didn't rest against him. She took advantage of the pause in conversation to move toward one side of the stall and leaned. The smile she wore didn't quite make it to genuine. "I don't have to check in with him every time I leave a room. It's not that kind of marriage."

  "Does he know you're out here with me?"

  She laughed and shook her head. She tucked her hands beneath her butt, trapping them behind her. Her gaze flickered to his mouth and rose so quickly that he probably shouldn't have noticed. He couldn't have missed it if he tried. "He's not worried about you."

  "Then he's an idiot." Her smile faltered, but he didn't apologize. He closed the distance between them, stepping forward until they nearly touched. She glanced at his mouth again and his cock twitched in response. Wrong. Stop. The words rolled through his mind and he brushed them aside. He leaned the pitchfork against the wall beside her, then braced his hand above her shoulder and moved farther into the dwindling separation between their bodies. "If I was him, I wouldn't leave you alone with me."

  He didn't plant a hand on her other side, though temptation made his fingers itch. She'd come here of her own free will. She could stay where she was or make a break for it. If she moved, he'd let her go. If she didn't ...

  Sela wet her lips. "He doesn't have anything to worry about. He trusts me. This is past tense."

  "No, it's not." Tyler pressed his hips forward against hers slowly. They stood close enough that she couldn't help but feel his erection. He kept the pressure light enough that she could still push him away.

  She made a sound she might have meant as a word. She didn't clarify. There wasn't time. Between one breath and the next, she kissed him, fingers threading into his hair. Her hips curled forward to meet his, an invitation.

  Tyler groaned in answer. She tasted as sweet as he remembered. His tongue brushed past her lips and teeth when she gasped for air. She curled her tongue around it, sucking hungrily. One hand knotted at the small of his back. She pulled him forward into her and spread her legs, making room.