That Wild Cowboy
“Are you ready for this?” she asked.
He got up, shook his jeans down over his boots. “Yes. Let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got real work to do later today.”
“What kind of real work do you do?”
He gave her an exaggerated frown. “Do you really believe all that hype about me going from bar to bar, making trouble and breaking hearts?”
Victoria thought of one heart long ago, but then she reminded herself she was so over that night. “Yes,” she said, more to herself than to him.
“Well, then, you’ll come with me and you’ll watch and learn. This is a working ranch—not just for show.”
Victoria’s radar went off. “We’ll tape that side of you, too, if you don’t mind. To show the contrast between the good-time Clint and the Clint who truly does do a day’s work.”
A disappointed look colored his eyes a dark gray like a quick-passing cloud. “Yeah, that’s me. Two different personalities in one broken, tired body.” Then he lifted an arm to show off his biceps. “Think I’m still in pretty good shape considering.”
“Not bad,” she said through a haze of awareness. “Not bad at all.” She turned away before he saw the flare of that awareness in her eyes. If Clint even saw a hint of interest, he’d swoop in and do what he did best—enjoy the hunt. When that was over, she’d be left for dead. “Okay, everyone, let’s get going,” she called out.
When she looked back at Clint, his eyes were back to that knowing, glowing silvery gray. Dangerous. This was going to be a very long day.
* * *
CLINT DECIDED TO give the cameras a good show. And since everyone in this so-called household was fuming at him right about now for agreeing to do this, he planned on making the most out of the situation. He had his reasons for signing up for this crazy show, but no one around here needed to hear those reasons. A man had to keep some things to himself.
His mother had been so conflicted she’d announced she was going back to the other side of the ranch to the old farmhouse and she did not want to see a camera anywhere near that house.
Denny was so mad that she’d taken Tater on an extended trip to the New Braunfels Schlitterbahn to meet up with some of their Louisiana friends. And Susie was piping mad because he refused to let her be a part of things—for now.
He didn’t mind Susie chiming in since she was single and looking for work, but he wanted to get the lay of the land and he didn’t need his baby sister hanging around and messing with his head when he did it. So now she was off on the other side of the house, lurking and pouting.
Add to that, he couldn’t stop thinking about the woman who’d convinced him to do this in the first place. Victoria Calhoun’s curvy little body and wild mane of sun-streaked hair were driving him nuts. But her lips were killing him softly.
He still wanted to kiss those lips. Why, he couldn’t understand. He’d kissed a lot of women in his life but for some reason he needed to verify what his mind was already telling him—that a kiss from Victoria would either cure him or kill him. And he didn’t care which right now.
She came hurrying toward him, her clipboard on her arm, her dark green cargo pants looking more feminine than outdoorsy. And her form-fitting white T-shirt made her look like she was on the prowl instead of on a busy set.
“Ready?” she asked, a long curl of bangs falling across her face. “This is it.”
Clint nodded, took a breath. He didn’t have a nervous bone in his body but she made him jumpy. “Yep. So I just look into the camera and welcome people into my home, right?”
“Right. We’ll give them a quick tour and explain you’re about to throw a party out by the pool. Fun in the sun with friends.”
“Got it.” He knew how to play things up, but he wasn’t so sure he could pretend to be having a great time with cameras all around. “I’ll give it the ol’ college try.”
“Give it your honest self,” she replied, her smile indulgent. “Just do what you did the morning I met you.”
Her expression told him she remembered every bit of that little scene.
“Right. I’ll need at least two cheerleaders and a model for that, darlin’.”
She shot him a look filled with both anticipation and distrust. “Well, bring ’em on then.”
“They should be arriving any minute now.”
Victoria glanced around, obviously not all that impressed that he could conjure up pretty women with the snap of his fingers. “Let’s get you going on the tour,” she said, her mind already racing ahead.
Clint braced himself and put on his game face. He knew the drill. Tease ’em, give ’em a good time, then move on.
A few hours and several takes later, he’d made it through what would be the intro to his time on the show and was now opening the doors to the patio. The party was already going on and the crew wanted to get in some segments before the hot Texas sun settled in the western sky.
“So, there you have it. You’ve seen my home and now it’s time to see how I live in this home. I’m Clint Griffin and I’d like to welcome you to Cowboys, Cadillacs and Cattle Drives.”
He swung the doors open and did a sweep of the pool and yard, his hands lifting into the air as he turned to smile into the camera. “Let’s go have some fun.”
Then he winked at the women waiting for him then stripped off his shirt and headed straight for the deep end of the pool.
But when he came up out of the cool depths of the sparkling water, a fourth woman was sauntering out in front of the cameras, a provocative smile centered on her pretty face.
His little sister Susie was on the set. And the cameras were taking it all in.
* * *
“GET HER OUT of here,” Clint hissed as he rose out of the water and headed toward his sister.
Victoria followed him, motioning for the cameras to get all of this on tape. They wouldn’t be able to use it without a release from Susie, but she couldn’t miss recording this little bit of drama.
Clint took Susie—who was clad in a black bikini, her long brown hair falling around her shoulders in soft curls—and pulled her to the side. Quickly wrapping a towel around her, he said, “You weren’t supposed to come down right now and you know it.”
Susie shrugged, dropped the towel and smiled into the camera. “My big brother neglected to mention that I live here, too, and I like to take a dip in the pool myself.” She gave Clint a daring glance. “I don’t mind the whole world watching. Just little me, taking a late-afternoon swim.” With a swish of her slender hips, she waved to the other women frolicking in the pool and headed for a lounge chair.
“Susie!”
The cameras swung to follow Susie while Clint stalked toward Victoria. Victoria nodded to the cameras to keep rolling. This was the kind of stuff she needed. If Susie wanted to become a reality star, then who was she to judge the woman.
“Victoria!”
“Yes?”
“Do something! I don’t want to have all of America ogling my baby sister.”
“She’s a grown woman,” Victoria replied, wondering why he didn’t get the double standard here. “As long as she signs a release, I’m cool with it. And she’s beautiful.”
“Yes, she is beautiful,” he said on a growl. “But no, I’m not so cool with every man alive seeing too much of her.”
Victoria automatically went into damage-control mode. “Look, Clint, we can delete the footage with Susie. If you don’t like it, it won’t go in.”
“I won’t like it,” he said. “I won’t.”
“Go and play,” she cautioned, her calm only a front. “We’ll keep the cameras on you and the girls but we’ll let Susie think she’s being filmed.”
He settled down at that. “Why did I think this would be a good idea?”
“It is a good idea,” Victoria replied, lying through her teeth. “And it’s only the first day. You’ll get used to the cameras.”
“I doubt that,” he replied. “But I do need a drink and some sweet talk. I’ll just have to pretend my baby sister isn’t watching.”
He headed back to the pool and started earning his pay in such a big way that Susie got up, put her hands on her little hips and announced, “Next time, I’m inviting my friends, not yours.” Then she stomped past Victoria with a glare and a parting shot. “This isn’t reality. It’s ridiculous.”
* * *
VICTORIA LET OUT a yawn. It had been a long day. Nestled safely in the spacious pool house, she wondered at the wisdom of staying so near that big stone house across from the pool. But Samuel liked the crew to stay on sight as much as possible to capture any and all incidents. And boy, had they had incidents today.
Susie showing up at the pool.
Denny calling Clint in the middle of the B-roll. His mother coming over and holding a hand over her face as she marched through the house to give him an important package that had been mistakenly delivered to her side of the ranch.
They had most of it on tape and they’d have to delete most of that. It would be tricky, taping around his unyielding family. But Victoria hoped she could keep the segments with Susie. Clint’s sister couldn’t be much younger than Victoria, but she had the spoiled Dallas socialite routine down pat. And that would make for great television. Well, great reality television anyway. She’d have to do a good job of editing, so Clint could see that the tension between Susie and him was undeniable. As long as she kept it light, however, she thought she could make it work without getting too deeply into family dynamite best left on the cutting-room floor.
And just how far are you willing to go?
This was always the dilemma for her. How long could she keep up this pace? How long could she push to get into people’s heads and lives just to keep the ratings up and the sponsors happy?
As Samuel would say, “As long as it takes, sweetheart.”
So she gritted her teeth and went back over the raw footage for today’s taping. If she liked what she saw, she’d send it electronically to Samuel with editing suggestions. Then back at the studio, they’d work through the rough cuts to create what would become the footage for the first show highlighting Clint Griffin. He’d lived up to his promise to put on a show. He’d flirted, whispered sweet nothings, had a few drinks and played a few tunes on his acoustic guitar.
Victoria had tried very hard to ignore how smoothly he moved from woman to woman. Now if she could only ignore the beating drums of her heart and how that tune had changed today each time he kissed one of those bikini-clad women.
Because Victoria knew how good that man’s kisses could be.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CLINT COULDN’T SLEEP. Nothing new there. Normally when he had insomnia he’d get dressed and head into town for some nightlife. Sometimes, he’d stay out all night and sometimes he’d bring the party home.
But lately, even that temptation had gone sour. Maybe he was getting old. The things that used to get him all excited and happy now only made him tired and cranky. And bored.
Then why are you putting on this show for the entire world?
Why, indeed?
He got up and pulled on some sweatpants and threw on an old T-shirt. Maybe a nightcap.
Padding through the quiet coolness of the house, he noticed Tessa’s light was out. She deserved her sleep because she was a kind, spiritual soul. She probably slept like a baby.
Susie had long ago left the house to do her own late-night kind of thing, whatever that was. She wanted in on this new gig, but Clint couldn’t allow that. Not that he could stop her, technically, but he could stop her with a big brother clarity that would protect her and the rest of the family. His baby sister wasn’t known for being discreet.
He had a feeling that after today, however, he’d lose that battle. And how could he blame her for wanting to be noticed? She’d had a good thing going for a while there out in California. Sure she missed the spotlight.
Clint grabbed some milk and a hunk of Tessa’s sour cream pound cake and headed out to the patio, where he’d left his guitar. He liked to sit here back in the shadows late at night and stare at the heavens while he tried to come up with another perfect song. Tonight, the moon was as close to full as it could be. It hung bright and punch-faced across the lush blue-black sky. A few bold stars shined around it just to showcase the whole thing.
Beautiful.
Then he was startled by a splash and watched as two slender arms lifted out of the water and two cute feminine feet kicked into a slow, steady lap across the pool. Curious as to who could be swimming at this late hour, he waited to see.
And watched, fascinated, as Victoria walked out of the water and pushed at her long, wet hair.
Beautiful.
Clint took in her white one-piece bathing suit and her glistening skin. The suit shimmered like pearls against the darker pale of her skin. She walked toward a table and picked up a big bright towel, then started drying off. How long had she been here? Did she know he was hidden up under the covered patio?
Clint set down the napkin full of cake and lifted out of the wrought-iron chair. The slight scraping of metal against stone brought her head up.
Her eyes widened. “Clint?” She grabbed the towel again and held it to her.
“Yeah.” He walked out toward her. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I...I couldn’t sleep.”
She pushed at her damp hair. “I...I couldn’t, either. I hope you don’t mind if I took a quick swim. We have a pool at my apartment building and this helps me settle down.”
He moved closer, liking how the moon highlighted her pretty skin and wide pink mouth. “Don’t mind at all. Don’t let me stop you.”
“I’m done,” she said, already gathering her things. “I did a few laps and sat awhile—that moon.” Her head down, she added, “I just took one last lap and I really should try to get some sleep.”
“Sit with me awhile.”
She looked as surprised as he felt but nodded. “We could talk about today.”
“We could. Or we could talk about something else.”
Wrapping herself with the big striped towel, she asked, “What else is there?”
Clint could think of a lot else but he didn’t explain that to her. “I don’t know. You. Me. I don’t know much about you but you know a whole lot about me.”
“Just my job. I have to ask the intimate questions so I can understand things and get a storyboard going for the show.”
He motioned to two chairs by the shallow end of the pool. “I want to hear how you got this job.”
He was shocked that he really did want to know about her life, but he was even more caught off guard because he just wanted to sit here in the moonlight with her and enjoy looking at her.
Full-moon madness?
Or just a man tired of chasing and ready to settle down.
But he wasn’t that man quite yet, was he?
* * *
VICTORIA THOUGHT SHE should probably go back into the pretty little pool house and call it a night. She’d wondered at the wisdom of staying on-site but in the end, the crew had decided it would be easier to stay on the ranch rather than drive back and forth through heavy traffic each day. Clint had agreed and had graciously offered Victoria and some of the other crew members the use of the pool house. The pool house where she should be right now, working, instead of visiting with her new star.
But something melancholy drew her to Clint. Or maybe his open shirt drew her. Either way, it would be rude to leave now that he had asked her to sit down.
“What’s that?” she asked, her gaze hitting on what looked like food. She’d skipped supper and now her stomach growled with a vicious plea.
“Tessa’s pound cake,” he said, sliding the napkin over to her. “Did you forget to eat again?”
How did he already know that about her?
“Yes,” she admitted, comfortable with him knowing. Liking that he’d noticed. “I love pound cake.”
He chuckled. “Want something to drink?”
She nodded between bites. “Milk?”
He pushed his glass toward her. “You eat and drink and I’ll go get us more food.”
“But...”
“Hey, the cameras are off. We follow my rules now, okay?”
“Okay.” She sat and glanced around. No one in sight. Then she noticed his guitar on the other table. She’d have to play up that angle because he obviously loved to play the guitar and he had mentioned his songwriting dreams. She liked that about him.
She might even like the way he always took charge and made her feel safe and cared for, too. But she couldn’t handle that for too long, she was sure. She was used to being in charge and being in control. And she really liked being single and independent.
Comparing the way Clint Griffin made her feel to her need to take care of herself was like comparing apples to oranges.
She liked both but they were two different things.
By the time he’d returned, she’d polished off the cake and downed most of the big glass of milk. And she’d talked herself out of any notions of a big strong man in her life. How old-fashioned and clichéd did that sound?
He had brought more food. A whole tray full of sliced cake, cold chicken and steak strips, tortillas and chips and salsa. And a bottle of sangria.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he spread out the food with all the flourish of a maître d’.
“I’m feeding you,” he replied with a grin. “Now eat up, and between bites tell me about you.”
She grabbed a soft tortilla and threw some meat and salsa on it then rolled it tight and started nibbling. Clint poured them both some sangria and pushed a goblet toward her.
After she took a sip, she sat back to stare over at him, thinking he really was a paradox. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Where were you born?”
“You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“I have a lot of catching up to do, remember?”
She nodded, smiled, glowed with a full tummy and a nice calm. “I was born in Dallas, of course.”
“But you’re not the cowgirl type.”
“No, I grew up in a trailer park. It was nice and clean but crowded and...certainly not upper class.”
“Class isn’t in the upper or lower,” he said. “It’s all in how you handle life.”
She lifted her goblet to him. “A cowboy, a playboy and a philosopher, too. You never fail to surprise me.”
“Sometimes, I surprise myself.” He gave her a look that seemed to include her in that realization. “But back to you. So what happened with your life?”
“You mean did I have a happy childhood?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“My parents got a divorce when I was a teen so my childhood pretty much ended.” She shrugged. “But it wasn’t all that great to begin with. I learned to fend for myself since they didn’t seem capable of taking care of business.”
“That’s tough.” He pushed more cake toward her then broke off a piece for himself. “But you survived.”
Victoria thought about that, memories filtering through her mind like falling leaves. “Barely. My mother worked hard and my dad—he sent a little money but it was never enough.”
“Did he leave y’all?”
“He did. He traveled here and there, always looking for some sort of dream. He died never finding that dream, but he sure had some tall tales to tell.”
“Don’t we all?”
She wiped her mouth and put down her napkin. “I suppose so. I think I like this job because even though our show is based in reality, we always manage to get into people’s heads and find out what really matters. Most people have dreams they keep to themselves.” She motioned to the guitar. “Like you. You should pursue that again.”
“Maybe.”
Clint went silent, his head down, so she pushed on. “You have this big vast family. Noise and laughter, shouting and drama. But it’s kind of nice to see you all living together. Not what I expected at all.”
He shrugged, gave her a soft smile. “I know—it makes for good television.”
“No, I mean, I didn’t have that growing up. It was quiet and sad most of the time around my house. Like we were mourning.”
“Maybe you were.”
She glanced out at the lights shimmering in the pool. The water glistened in shades of aqua and azure. A group of palm trees swayed in the wind near a constantly streaming foundation that emptied into the deep end. It felt foreign, being the one on the hot seat.
Finally, she turned back to Clint. “Are you mourning for anything?”
He looked shocked then he gave her an evasive gaze. “I do miss my dad. We didn’t see eye to eye, but I thought I’d always have him.”
Victoria zoomed in on that admission. Here was something to bring out, something the audience could understand and identify with. So could she.
“I miss my dad, too,” she said, hoping to draw him out. But her words were the truth. “He just never got it together and I always wondered what my life might have been like if he’d had a different mindset.”
“You might be a different person now,” Clint said. “Or I might not have ever met you. And that would have been a shame.”
Okay, she needed to steer this back around. “Tell me more about your daddy.”
He didn’t speak for a minute, then said, “He didn’t like me dabbling in songwriting, so I gave it up and became a rodeo star.” That evasiveness again. “Among other things.”
Back on track, she continued probing. “Did you like being on the rodeo circuit?”
He nodded. “I did. It was dangerous, a challenge, and I had friends all over the place. But a lot of times after a big event, I’d sit in my hotel room, alone, strumming on my guitar.” He grinned over at her. “I think I’ll write you a song.”
Victoria lifted her head, grabbed her towel. This was getting way too intimate for her. A song? Soon he’d have her bawling like a baby. Or worse, pining away like a forlorn lover in a twangy country song. “It’s late. I’d better get inside. Early day tomorrow.”
“Victoria?”
She didn’t dare turn around. How had he dragged that out of her about her father? She didn’t miss people. She put people in little compartments and shut the door on her feelings about them. She needed to do that with Clint, too. She also needed to remember she was the one good at digging up secrets. He had no reason to delve into her hidden places.
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