The Ultimate Texas Bachelor

“So will you help me out?” he asked eagerly. “I’ll give you one hundred dollars an hour to help me get organized. Because that’s what professional organizers charge. At a few weeks—let’s say three—that would be twelve thousand dollars, give or take. If you decide you want to cook for us, I’ll pay you for that, too.”

To Brad’s chagrin, Lainey seemed intrigued.

Lainey blinked. “What were you planning to pay a housekeeper?”

Lewis shrugged. “If she lived in, fifty thousand, with free room and board. Like I said, I’m planning to make the guest house into the housekeeper’s quarters.”

Lainey cast a look in the direction Lewis was pointing. Her soft lips pursed thoughtfully. “How much room does it have?”

It was all Brad could do not to groan out loud as his brilliant but clueless brother answered. “Eleven hundred square feet—a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, one and a half baths.”

“She already told you no,” Brad interjected, knowing the last thing he needed was a nosy female underfoot. Lewis would be gone all day. It was Brad who would be here at the ranch, dealing with Lainey one-on-one, running into her every time he turned around!

Lainey scowled at Brad. “Excuse me. I don’t believe either of us was talking to you.”

Brad closed the distance between them, not stopping until they were nose to nose. “Well, I am talking to you. And let’s be serious here.” He paused to let his gaze drift over her in an insulting manner before returning to her green eyes. “A woman like you isn’t cut out to live and work on a ranch.” She was clearly pampered and city-chic. She even had pearls and earrings on. No woman on a ranch wore pearls and earrings and suede shoes with the heels and toes cut out. Plus, she had sensational legs! How was he supposed to get any work done when she was walking around in a skirt, showing them off?

Lainey folded her arms and leaned toward him. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she scolded him fiercely, oblivious to the way her stance was lifting the soft curves of her breasts. “He isn’t asking me to dig ditches!”

Brad frowned, refusing to let the alluring fragrance of her perfume distract him. With difficulty, he kept his gaze away from the fabric stretched across her breasts. He’d already had one glimpse of her shapely form, he didn’t need another. “Those hands don’t look like they’ve done any hard labor indoors, either,” he continued.

Lainey released a long-suffering sigh. “I use hand cream,” she explained as if to a moron, then turned back to Lewis, all smug self-confidence. “You say I can bring my son to work with me?”

This time Brad did groan out loud.

Lewis perked up. “Heck, yeah. You can even bunk in the guest cottage if you like. That way the two of you wouldn’t have to drive back and forth to—”

“Highland Park.”

Which was, Brad thought, one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Dallas.

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Brad said, figuring the last thing they needed was some small-town-girl-turned-society-mama out here.

Lainey and Lewis turned to Brad. “No one asked you!” they declared in unison.

Lainey said to Lewis, “You understand it would only be for a few weeks?”

Lewis grinned, looking ridiculously slaphappy. “Unless I can talk you and your son into staying on permanently.”

“You don’t even know if she can cook!” Brad practically shouted.

Lewis shrugged. “If she doesn’t, she can learn. Can’t you, Lainey?”

Lainey took a long drink of her soda, then set the can down. “I certainly could. You’ve got a deal, Lewis. In the meantime, I’ve got to get back to Highland Park.”

Which still wasn’t saying if she did or did not know how to cook, Brad thought. Which in his view was an absolute necessity, since it was a twenty-minute drive to the nearest restaurant and the appeal of frozen dinners, sandwiches and prepackaged food—the only stuff he and his brother were capable of fixing—was already wearing mighty thin.

“But you’ll be back?” Lewis asked anxiously.

“Oh, yes. Tomorrow.” Lainey stared at Brad, all stubborn defiance. “First thing.”

Chapter Two

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Lainey stared at her sister-in-law, sure she hadn’t heard right.

Bunny Carrington touched a hand to the glossy black chignon at her nape. “Bart and I cannot let you take Petey out to some godforsaken ranch for the next few weeks.”

Bart, Bunny’s henpecked attorney-husband, hadn’t said anything thus far. But that wasn’t surprising to Lainey. According to Lainey’s late husband, Bart had traded away his say in most everything when he agreed to marry Bunny and take her last name of Carrington, instead of have her take his.

Like Lainey, Bart’s roots were decidedly blue-collar. In marrying Bunny, he had married up. And now, twenty years and a pair of twin girls later, he was still letting Bunny run the show.

Lainey sat down on the edge of the plush, ultra-suede sofa in Bunny and Bart’s family room. Through the plate-glass windows, she could see Petey romping in the lagoon-shaped pool with his eighteen-year-old cousins, Becca and Bonnie. Relieved he was not privy to any of this, Lainey stated calmly, “I think you misunderstood me. I wasn’t asking your permission.” Any more than she was asking their permission to work as a reporter. “I just wanted you to know where you could contact us.”

Bunny glanced at Bart. He looked troubled, too, but not necessarily in agreement with his wife. Obviously, Bunny wanted Bart to say something.

Finally, the tall gangly man with the perpetually defeated expression on his face, cleared his throat. “I think what Bunny is trying to say here is that some changes may need to be made.”

A chill ran down Lainey’s spine. No one had to remind her that thanks to the terms of the trust Chip had set up for Petey, which Bunny oversaw, all of Lainey’s finances were controlled by her sister-in-law. Which was another reason why it was so important she start making some money of her own—soon. “What kind of changes?” Lainey asked suspiciously.

“Bunny thinks that it’s impractical for you to be incurring such steep mortgage payments every month.”

It hadn’t been Lainey’s idea to have a ridiculously high mortgage payment every month. Chip was the one who had insisted they purchase a home in Highland Park. Lainey began to relax, ever so slightly. “I’m glad you brought this up,” she said, relieved. “I’ve been wanting to sell the house. It is much too big for just Petey and me.”

Not only was it an unnecessary expense, but also the home had too many memories of her and Chip. Lainey was finding it impossible to move on, when everywhere she went she saw and felt her late husband’s presence. Lainey had loved her husband terribly. She saw Chip’s good qualities in Petey every day. But now that she and Petey had gone through the mourning process, it was time to build a new life.

Lainey smiled at her in-laws. “Petey and I would be happy with something much smaller and less expensive. Which is why I’ve been thinking about relocating back to my hometown of Laramie, Texas.”

Lainey had no family ties there any longer, since both her parents had passed on years ago, but Laramie was still as friendly and laid-back as ever. When she had driven out there earlier this morning, she had been surprised to discover how much it had felt like home.

Bunny and Bart regarded each other tensely.

“You misunderstand us,” Bunny said finally. “Bart and I want you and Petey to move in here with us.”

BRAD WAS ON HIS WAY OUT to the barn to begin unloading bundles of PVC pipe from his pickup when a familiar dark green SUV turned into the lane leading to the Lazy M ranch house. The vehicle zipped toward the parking area and stopped just short of the guest house. Seconds later, Lainey Carrington was stepping out of the driver’s side.

She was wearing an open-necked hot-pink silk shirt with three-quarter sleeves, a trim black skirt that failed to reach her knees, and open-toed sandals that, like the rest of her outfit, were hardly suited for life on a working cattle ranch. Despite the eye-catching hue of her blouse, her outfit was conservative enough to be worn in a corporate setting. The way it hugged her slender curves was another matter indeed…. Just looking at her made Brad’s mouth water.

The knowledge of his own desire made him frown. He had promised himself at the end of the TV show that he was swearing off all women for at least a year. It hadn’t been a problem—until now. Unbeknownst to the producers who had hired him for Bachelor Bliss, his rep as a bed-hopping ladies’ man was a hell of a lot more fiction than fact.

She went up to the ranch house door, rang the bell, pressed it again and again. Finally, she came back down the steps and looked toward the barn, where he was busy unloading the back of his pickup truck.

She got back in her vehicle, drove the short distance to where he was, and got out of her SUV again.

Apparently remembering all too well the way they had parted, Lainey gave Brad a cool glance. “Lewis around?” she asked, stepping nearer in a drift of remarkably alluring perfume.

“Nope.” Brad lifted one bundle onto his shoulder, then another.