Back Where You Belong (3 page)

“Hello, again, Lacy.” His deep voice washed over her, raising gooseflesh and setting her insides to melting. Then he smiled and her heart stuttered for a few beats. Only one man in the entire world could smile like that with dimples so deep they carved grooves into his cheeks.

“You’re…you’re Tyler Desmond? I haven’t seen you since I was a teenager and you were young and handsome.”
Shit, did I say that?

Tyler’s chocolate eyes narrowed.

“I don’t mean you’re not still handsome, you’re just older.” She cleared her throat and glanced frantically around the room, mentally searching for a way out of this awkward situation. “Not that you’re real old.” She waved a hand in expression. Men like Tyler didn’t age, they sauntered into the arena of perfection. “You’re just…older.” And twice as sexy. She pursed her lips. “I had a serious crush on you at one point.”

His dark eyebrow quirked in silent surprise.

“I can’t believe it’s you. Why didn’t I recognize you the other night?” She fingered her curls and shook her head once. “You, of all people. I even took a picture of you years ago, when you weren’t looking. Just one. A profile shot.”

Now both dark eyebrows rose.

“Had it blown up poster-sized and taped it to the ceiling over my bed. That was ten years ago, the summer I turned fourteen.”
Shut up! For God’s sake mouth, shut up!

But, of course, her demon tongue kept right on talking. “Grandma had a fit when she saw it. Said I had no business lusting after a married man.” She pursed her lips again. “I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. I just simply enjoyed looking at you.”

He sat there silent; his gaze locked on her, looking better in a navy T-shirt and worn jeans than any male had a right to. One of his elbows rested on the table; his square chin was cupped in his hand and a long finger slowly stroked his lips as if he were erasing a smile before it had a chance to grow. The mustache she knew could send shivers down her back when he kissed her twitched, and dark eyes twinkled with humor. Was he getting a charge out of this? Couldn’t he see how uncomfortable he made her?

“Quit yer prattlin’, girl, and make Tyler and me some coffee. I’ll go write up the bill of sale for that hundred head of cattle.”

Grandpa headed for his office, leaving her alone with a roomful of testosterone and a bellyful of feminine nerves.

“Want some coffee? Personally, right now I could go for something colder. But if coffee’s what you want, coffee’s what you’ll get.” Her hands clasped and unclasped. Why couldn’t she get a handle on her nerves?
Because it’s
him
, that’s why
. Wouldn’t any mature woman stress out coming face to face with her teenage fantasy? She cleared her throat. “Will that be caffeinated or decaf? We have both. French roast, too, if you prefer that.”

“Regular suits my tastes, Lacy. Something full-bodied and strong.” His rich baritone voice still made parts of her quiver.
Oh, God.

Wait
. “Full-bodied?” Was he making an underhanded reference to her size? Many people felt compelled to.

A slow, sexy, badass smile spread, deepening the creases in his cheeks. “Oh, yeah.”

Before she allowed her hackles to rise over the weight slur and said anything else inanely stupid, she bit the inside of her cheek and stepped to the coffee maker. Something about the man made her act pubescent, and she’d do well to keep her distance. She’d make the coffee and get the hell outta Dodge. Go to the printers to pick up the advertising postcards she ordered. If she was going to achieve her goal of being one of the more sought-after website designers in the Amarillo area, she’d need to engage in both online and direct advertising.

Boot steps sounded behind her, and the hair on her arms stood straight out. Parts of her started to moisten. Damn the man for making her feel things she’d be better off doing without.

“Lacy?”

His deep voice washed over her with a silky, sensual warmth.

She glanced over her shoulder and into dark eyes. Her male radar was accurate; he stood right behind her, so close she could smell his cologne and see faint traces of his five o’clock shadow coming in along his square jaw. “Y-yes?”

“I want to apologize for kissing you the other night.” He exhaled an audible sigh. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that. I need you to know I’m embarrassed by the way I behaved.”

Why was he ashamed? Because he’d kissed a heavy girl? Over the past couple of years, she’d grown sensitive about her weight, even more so after the trauma of college and a roommate who so cruelly invaded her privacy. She pushed the memory back into her pain closet; she would not dwell on that nightmare today.

What she needed to face was her residual fascination with this man and his lack of the same in her. No doubt he remembered her as the skinny teen she once was, before her grandma passed away and she turned to food to assuage the terrible grief of losing the woman who’d shown her what love was all about. Both she and Grandpa had drawn inward to their own private world of pain, instead of helping each other. The ranch had suffered. So had her body.

As her weight increased, she grew more invisible to the male population. Men seemed drawn to slender women, not those well-padded.

Her heart sank and her defense mechanisms rose. If he was embarrassed he’d kissed her, then so be it. But she’d not let him see how he’d just trampled her feelings, especially not this man she’d had a major crush on in her adolescence. Wouldn’t he be greatly amused to know she’d dreamed about him for the last five nights? Well, he’d never know.

She opened the cabinet and pulled out the coffee canister. “I can see why you’d want to apologize for the kiss.” She started scooping coffee beans into the grinder, hoping her trembling hand didn’t give her away. “It was a mighty pitiful kiss, after all. You must really be out of practice.”

She looked over her shoulder and winced at the visual effects of her callous remark. Tyler looked as if he’d been sucker punched. A slow flush crept up his neck.

He stepped back and extended both hands in a stop gesture. “Then it’s just as well the kiss didn’t live up to your experienced lips, for you’ll damn sure never get another one out of me.”

At this precise moment, the air conditioning Lacy yearned for in her grandpa’s farmhouse wasn’t necessary. Not with the chill in Tyler’s eyes. Her stomach cramped and her throat went dry.
I shouldn’t have said that. How stupid of me. I should apologize
.

But her mouth wouldn’t work. Of all times to be tongue-tied, it had to be now, in front of this angry male. A man who years ago was the object of her teenaged fantasies.

“Is your grandpa’s office still across the hall from the living room?”

She nodded, unable to voice her regrets. Tyler turned on his heel and stalked out while pieces of her heart tinkled to the floor like tiny pieces of broken glass.

Chapter Four

Well, I certainly made a mess of that
.

In no hurry to encounter Tyler’s wrath again, Lacy retreated to her office. When she returned from college, Grandpa built a first-floor addition for her with a bedroom, bath and office area for her fledgling business. He claimed a grown woman deserved some privacy, and so did an old man.

She’d check emails before changing clothes to run errands. Working at home afforded her the luxury of dressing casual, but anytime she went out in public, she chose to present a more professional appearance in case she ran into a potential customer.

She glanced at the closed door, her thoughts jumping back to the angry man in her grandpa’s office.
I kissed Tyler Desmond. Kissed him and then told him it was no good. Oh, God.

No, she’d think about all that later. For now, she had work to do. She opened her business email account and clicked on an email with “Question” in the subject line.

And came face to face with her past.

“Ms. LaRoche, this internet video was recently brought to my attention. Is this really you?” The link to her nightmare was on the next line.

Her stomach clenched and coldness swept through her system. Would this damn video of her undressing ever go away? Did her ex-roommate have any clue what her actions of hiding a camera in their dorm room and filming her unawares had done to her life? Two years. Nearly two years had passed, and this video was still haunting her.

So, what did she do? Respond or ignore?

No, she’d run before. Not anymore.

Once she clicked on REPLY, she typed:
Yes, this video was taken of me in college. I had no knowledge of my roommate’s intent, nor did I give my permission for the filming of this video. If this damned thing…

Nope too strong. She backspaced over the last few words.

If this video amuses you or bothers you, then perhaps we should end our professional association. It would sadden me to have this happen. While I respect you as a person and businessman, I also expect you to respect me in return.

She signed it and hit SEND.

Brash? Perhaps. Ballsy? A smile spread.
Oh, hell, yeah.

An hour later, Lacy settled onto a barstool at the Lonesome Steer. The place was practically deserted. Win and Evie sat at the end of the bar. The cook and waitress were laughing, their heads touching, obviously lost in their own world. Win pressed a slow kiss to Evie’s forehead; an intimate, almost possessive gesture that told volumes about their connection. Envy twisted Lacy’s heart. Would she ever have a relationship like that?
Not if I keep telling guys they can’t kiss.

“Lacy, what brings you by?” Gus Rankin, owner of the Lonesome Steer, ambled over and set a coaster in front of her. “Not that I couldn’t use the business. A little slow this afternoon.”

“I’ll have a diet soda. No. Make that a regular. I’ve been drinking diet drinks for years, and it hasn’t helped my weight one bit.”

He set a can of soda and a glass of ice in front of her. “Sounds like you’re in a bit of a mood, young lady.” Muscular arms crossed on the bar in front of her, as if he were settling in for a conversation.

Well, she was more than ready to vent. “Why do men only look at the outside of a woman?”

A nervous chuckle escaped. “We’re visual creatures, honey.” His eyes narrowed and he twirled one end of his handlebar mustache. “You speakin’ of one man in particular?”

She nodded. “I’ve had a crush on him since I was fourteen. When I saw him in here the other night, I never recognized him, which is kind of crazy after the way I mooned over the jerk for years. I mean, I felt something—a subconscious awareness, perhaps—but I didn’t know it was him. I never saw him with a mustache before. A person can change a lot in ten years, you know?”

“Tyler Desmond, huh?” An ornery smile spread.

She clapped both hands to her eyes. “Tell me you didn’t see that kiss,” she moaned.

He exhaled a bark of laughter. “See it? The temperature shot up ten degrees in here.” His hand wrapped around her can and poured soda into the glass of ice. “Talk to me. What happened?”

After she told her tale of verbal woe to Gus, he popped the top on another can of soda and set it in front of her. “You’ve been away a few years, going to college and all, so you wouldn’t know his story. Tyler’s wife left him and their daughter about three years ago. He was in a bad way for a while. Barely talked to anyone.”

“Oh, no. How awful. Is the daughter with him?”

He nodded and grabbed a rag to wipe off an already pristine bar. “She’s the light of his life. Don’t know if he dates or not. I’ve never seen him bring a woman in here. A lot have tried to get his attention, don’t think they haven’t. He’s a good dancer, to hear them talk. Still, far as I know, none ever got to first base with him. That’s why watching you two kiss the other night surprised the dickens out of me.”

She groaned and dropped her head on her arms. “No wonder my lie about his lackluster kissing skills angered him so.” Her gaze settled on the bartender’s eyes when she straightened. “And it was a lie. Oh, how that man can kiss.”

Gus extended a hand in a stop gesture. “Too much info there, darlin’. You’re getting too personal now.” He favored her with a wink. “What do you know about a man’s pride? The power of it?”

“Male pride?”

He motioned to her glass. “Drink up, girl, you’re about to enter the class of Understandin’ Men One-Oh-One.”

****

Later that night, after her grandpa went upstairs to bed, Lacy turned on the light in his office. She searched through the paperwork on his desk until she found what she wanted: Tyler’s check for the cattle, with his address and phone number printed in the corner. She jotted the phone number on a slip of paper and headed for the comfort of her bedroom.

By the time she showered and got into her night clothes she’d work up a strong dose of bravery to call one angry male. Lord knew she’d need it.

Stretched across the bed with her head propped on a pile of throw pillows, she wiped the dampness from her palms. Her heart pounded in her ears and her stomach twisted. She’d looked at the slip of paper so many times in her effort to gather her courage she had Tyler’s number memorized.

The bed dipped when Honeybun jumped up next to her and waited for Lacy to scratch behind her ears. “I need to make a phone call and I’m scared.”

The dog licked her chin.

“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t make it any harder than it is.”

The collie turned around twice and flopped on the bed, her muzzle on Lacy’s stomach.

“I owe Tyler an apology. What I said to him was mean-spirited. I’ll make it quick. If he never talks to me again, so be it, but at least I’ll have done the right thing.”

She could still see the cold look in Tyler’s eyes when she’d cut him down. Could she undo that? Gus told her about the fragile male ego. She shook her head. Who knew?

Digging deep for a dose of resolve, she thumbed in Tyler Desmond’s phone number.