Runaway Temptation

Three

Gus Slade wore a steel-gray suit with a white shirt and a bold red tie. His black cowboy hat rested on the table alongside his arm. His thick hair, once black as midnight, was silver now, and his skin was tanned and leathered from years of working out in the Texas sun. He was leaning back in his chair, one booted foot resting on a knee. At sixty-nine, he was still a powerful, magnetic man.

Damn it.

His piercing blue eyes fixed on Rose with neither welcome nor warning. “Talk about what?”

Ignoring his rudeness, she took a seat near him, glanced over her shoulder toward their grandchildren and said pointedly, “That.”

He took a look, then frowned. “Nothing to talk about. Keep your boy away from my girl and we have no problem.”

“Take another look, you old goat,” Rose said in a whispered hush. “It’s Alexis doing the flirting. And she’s got the look of a woman who’s been thoroughly—recently—kissed.”

Gus’s frown deepened and his gaze shifted to Rose. “A woman flirting doesn’t mean a damn thing. And kisses are fleeting, aren’t they, Rose?”

She took a gulp of air at the implied insult. Rose had been sixteen years old when she fell head over heels in love with Gus. And if she had to be honest—the man could still give her insides a jump start. But damned if she’d sit there and be insulted.

“I didn’t come over here to talk about the past.”

“Then why are you sitting at my table?” he snapped.

Rose swallowed back her annoyance. Since the death of his wife, Sarah, from cancer a few years before, Gus had become even more unsociable than usual. And another piece of her heart ached. Sarah Slade had once been Rose’s best friend, but Rose had lost them both when she’d rejected Gus. He had turned to Sarah for comfort and soon the two of them had been together, shutting Rose out completely.

But old hurts couldn’t matter at the moment. It was the present they had to worry about, not the past. “Gus, unless we’re prepared to have the two of them getting together—again—we have to come up with something.”

He scrubbed one hand across his jaw in a gesture Rose remembered. Deliberately, she shut down a surge of memories and waited impatiently for the man to speak. Gus always had taken his time choosing just the right words. And even back when she had loved him, that particular trait had driven Rose crazy.

“Fine,” he said at long last, keeping his voice low as he glanced around to make sure no one could listen in. “But not here. Don’t need a damn audience of gossips trying to figure out why we’re suddenly being friendly.”

Rose winced. She hadn’t really considered that. Her one thought had been to enlist Gus’s help in breaking up any attachment between her grandson and his granddaughter. “You’re right.”

He flashed a grin. “Well, this is a banner day. Rose Clayton admitting Gus Slade is right about something.”

She was unamused. “Write it on your calendar in big red letters. Meanwhile—”

“Fine, then. We’ll meet tomorrow. Two o’clock at the oak.”

Rose inhaled sharply at the jab. The oak could have been anywhere in the state of Texas. But Rose knew exactly what meeting spot Gus was talking about. She was almost surprised that he remembered. Then, as his gaze focused on her, she realized that he was testing her. Seeing if she remembered.

How could she not?

“Agreed. Two o’clock.” She turned to walk away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he’d gotten to her. Then she stopped, looked back and said, “Try not to be late this time.”

Smiling to herself at the accuracy of her own little barb, Rose walked back to her table.

* * *

Shelby stared up at the main house and gave a sigh.

She’d been impressed when Caleb drove through the gates with the scrolled ironwork M. Then the oak-lined drive had taken her breath away. But the house itself was amazing.

It was big, sprawling across the ground, like a lazy dog claiming its territory. The house jutted out at different angles that told Shelby people had been adding on to the house for generations. There was a long, wide front porch running the length of the house, with stone pillars holding up the overhang roof.

There were chairs and swings along the length of the porch, crowded with pillows and huge pots filled with flowers spilling down in rivers of bright colors. The effect was a silent welcome to sit and enjoy the view for a while. And the view was pretty spectacular. It was exactly the kind of ranch you would find in a House Beautiful article called “The Lifestyles of Rich Ranchers.”

She turned in a slow circle, still holding her wedding dress up around her knees. There was a barn, a stable, a corral where three horses were gathered in a knot as if whispering to each other. There was another house, a two-story cottage style just across the yard and in the distance, there were other long, low buildings.

“Wow.” She half turned to look up at Caleb. “This is all yours?”

“Mine and my brother’s, yeah.” He frowned. “Part of your dress is in the dirt.”

She looked over her shoulder and muttered a curse. Then she huffed out a breath. “I don’t care. Not like I’m going to wear it again. Ever.”

He shrugged. “Your call.” He pointed to the two-story house. “My brother and his family live there. I’ll go get you some of Meg’s things.”

“I don’t know...” It felt weird. She was already so much in his debt, how much deeper could she go? He’d rescued her, offered her a place to stay and now he was going to give her clothes.

“Hey, okay with me if you want to stay in that dress.”

Biting her lip, she looked down at the white nightmare she was wearing. “Okay, yes. I’d like to borrow some clothes.” Please don’t let him be crazy.

“Be right back. Oh,” he added, “when you go inside, just...watch yourself.”

What kind of warning was that? She turned to glance at the wide oak front door and wondered what she was going to find behind it. A torture chamber? Rat-infested rooms? A collection of wedding dresses from the brides he’d rescued before her?

Shelby groaned at that last ridiculous thought. How many brides could one man run across, anyway? After what she’d already been through that day, what in that house could possibly affect her?

So, bracing herself for everything from explosives to bears, Shelby walked across the porch and opened the door.

A blast of icy, air-conditioned air greeted her and she nearly whimpered. She’d thought Chicago summers were killer. But Texas was a brand-new ball game. The humidity here was high enough to fill a swimming pool. Eager to get into the cool, she pushed the door wider but it hit something and stopped.

Curious, Shelby peeked inside and gasped.

Stuff.

Wall-to-wall stuff.

The door wouldn’t open all the way because there was an antique dresser right in front of it. She didn’t need to ask why, either. One step into the main room told Shelby everything she needed to know about Caleb’s late mother.

The furniture was lovely, but jammed into what should have been a large, generous room. And on every table, every dresser, every curio cabinet, was stuff. Not old newspapers or magazines, but statues and crystals and rings and bracelets and candlesticks and crystal bowls and baskets and trays.

If Caleb had thought this room would send her screaming, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Shelby’s organized soul was instantly energized. Her business, Simple Solutions, depended on people like Caleb’s mother. Back in Chicago, she’d built her reputation on being able to go into a mess, straighten it out and teach the homeowner how to keep it tidy. Her client list had been built on word of mouth and she was thinking of expanding, hiring more employees, when she’d met Jared Goodman.

Frowning a little, Shelby realized it was hard to believe that she’d given up everything she knew for a man who had ended up being nothing but a facade. She’d trusted him. Believed him. Thought she was in love.

But as it turned out, she’d been in love with the idea of being in love and the reality of actually marrying Jared had been enough to jolt her out of the illusion.

Shelby walked farther into the room, lifting one of the crystal bud vases for a closer look, then carefully setting it down again. In her business, she’d learned early about maker’s marks on crystal and glass. She knew antiques when she saw them and had a pretty good idea of the value of different pieces.

She did a slow turn, admiring the bones of the room and she wondered why Caleb’s mother had felt that emotional need to surround herself with things. The ranch itself was elegant and even in its current state, Shelby could see that the home would be, once cleared out, amazing.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” Caleb said from behind her.

She turned to look at him. “I’ve seen worse.”

He laughed shortly. “Hard to believe.”

“Oh, this is nothing, really.” She lifted a porcelain tray and ran her fingertips across the library table it rested on. “No dust. I’ve been in places where the dust was so thick the furniture looked like ghost pieces. The wood was white with neglect.”

“My foreman’s wife, Camilla, takes care of things around here.”

“Well, she does a good job of it.” Shelby looked around again. “It can’t be easy to keep all of this dusted.”

He sighed and gave a look around. “I keep telling her that we’ll get people in here to haul all of this stuff away, but—”

“But you get busy,” Shelby said.

“Yeah.”

“And that’s where I come in.”

He turned a wary look on her. “What’s that mean?”

“I’m a professional organizer,” Shelby said, smiling up at him. “This is what I do. I go into people’s homes and help bring order to chaos. I had my own business in Chicago. A successful one.”

“And you gave it up to marry Jared,” he mused.

“Yes, well.” She stopped, frowned. “Bad judgment aside, I’m excellent at what I do.” She turned to look at the room again before staring up at him. “I can take care of this for you.”

“Is that right?” He was holding a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

She supposed shoes were too much to hope for.

“Sure. It’s great, really.” Shelby’s mind was racing, figuring, planning and when she had most of it all set, she started talking again. “I need a place to stay for a while.”

“Now, wait a second...”

“Just hear me out.” She took a breath and released it in a rush. “You’ve been fabulous. Really. So thanks again for the whole rescue and bringing me here and not being a serial killer.”

One corner of his delectable mouth quirked briefly. “You’re welcome.”

She grinned at him. Really, he was ridiculously good-looking, but when his mouth hinted at a smile, his looks went off-the-chart hot. Still, not the point at the moment.

“But the truth is,” she said, “until I can get all of my stuff from Jared’s parents’ house—not to mention get into my money, I’m stuck.”

“What about family?” he asked. “Isn’t there someone you could call?”

“No.” Sorrow briefly landed on her, gave her a fleeting kiss, then moved on again. “My mother died last year, so I’m all that’s left.”

“Sorry.” He looked uncomfortable.

Shelby understood that, since she’d seen it often back home. So she spoke up quickly to even things out between them again. “Like I said, I’m a professional organizer.

“The plan was to open a business here in Texas...” She frowned, unsure now just what she would do about that. “Back in Chicago, I had hundreds of satisfied clients.”

“Uh-huh.”

He didn’t sound interested, but he hadn’t walked away, either. Which meant she hadn’t lost him completely. And seeing this house had given her the first shot of good news she’d experienced in days. Before, she’d felt like a beggar, asking for help, borrowing clothes. But if he let her do this, she could feel as though she were paying her way. And that, more than anything, was important to her. She liked being her own boss. In charge of her own life. And right now, she could use a jolt of that in her system.

“My point is,” she said eagerly, “I can straighten all of this out for you. I can organize everything of your mother’s. All you’ll have to do is decide what you want to do with everything.”

He glanced around the room again and looked back to Shelby. “It’s a big job.”

“I’m up to it.”

He studied her for a long minute, long enough that she shifted position uncomfortably. What was he seeing when he looked at her? He was seriously gorgeous, so Shelby had to wonder if he was feeling the slightest bit of attraction that was humming through her blood. And the minute she thought it, she pushed it away. Really? Run away from your wedding and have some completely indecent thoughts about your rescuer? God, Shelby, get a grip.

“My brother and his wife have already taken what they want, and as for me, keep what works in the room and we could donate the rest of it, I guess,” he said.

Concession, her mind shouted and she jumped on it. “Absolutely, and that would be very generous. The crystal alone is probably very valuable. I could contact an antiques store and see about selling some of it if you want me to. I can check all of it for you. Make lists of what you have and where it is and—”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

She frowned at him. “Not often. And this is important. I really need to get you to agree with this or I’ll be sleeping in a park or something. So I’ll do all the work here in exchange for room and board until I can get my life back on track.”

“And how long do you figure that will take?”

She winced. “Depends on how cooperative the Goodmans are.”

“So forever,” he said.

She sighed and felt a momentary dip in her enthusiasm. “I know it’s an intrusion on you and I’ll try not to bug you much...”

He was watching her and she wished she could read whatever thoughts were digging furrows between his eyebrows. The man was unreadable, though. He was the embodiment of the iconic cowboy. Tall, rugged, gorgeous, stoic. So she was forced to wait. Thankfully, it didn’t take long.

“I suppose we could try it.”

She sighed, grinned and slapped one hand to her chest. “Thanks. Wow. I feel better already. This is great. You won’t be sorry. I’ll have this taken care of so fast you won’t even recognize the place.”

“Uh-huh.” He started walking toward the wide hall. “Anyway. You can stay over here in the east wing.”

Shelby was looking around the house as she followed him. From what she could see in the hallway, there were plenty of places for her to organize there, too.

“I’ve never lived in a house with wings.”

He glanced down at her as she hurried up to walk at his side. “Yeah, this one’s got all kinds of wings spreading out from here, the center. Every generation has added to it for nearly a hundred and fifty years.”

“Wow.” Shelby was impressed. She and her mother had been constantly on the move, from apartment to condo, to rental house. They’d never stayed anywhere longer than three years. So hearing about a family who had been in the same spot for more than a century filled her with a kind of envy she hadn’t expected. That was roots, she told herself. Digging in, planting yourself and building your own world. One for your children and your children’s children.

And that hunger for family, for roots, was what had prompted her to allow herself to be swept off her feet by Jared. Lesson to be learned there, Shelby told herself.

The walls in the house changed from log to stone and back again as they walked. The hardwood floor was shining, letting her know that the house was well cared for in spite of the clutter in the main room that had dribbled into the hallway. She imagined that Camilla had to work like a Trojan to keep everything as clean and beautiful as it was.

Caleb opened a door on the right and stepped inside. Shelby was right behind him, but she stopped on the threshold to simply stare. She gasped because she couldn’t help herself. The room was beautiful. Big, with a four-poster cherrywood bed covered by a dark blue-and-white star quilt. There were two end tables, a chest at the foot of the bed and a dresser on the far wall. Two bay windows offered a view of the front yard and the oaks lining the drive.

“This was my mom’s room.”

Shelby looked at him. “She didn’t clutter this one.”

“No,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “She only did that in the main room and the kitchen. Anyway—” he pointed to a door “—there’s a bathroom through there.”

“Okay, thanks.” Shelby walked farther into the room, laid one hand on the footboard and looked back at Caleb again.

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