Blame It On Texas

Lexie propped her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think that they’re going to figure it out when you start looking a whole lot different after spending concentrated time with me?”

Lewis paused. His lips curved up on either side. “Well, maybe not so much if people thought we were dating and you steered me in another direction, clotheswise or something. If word got out that we were dating, would that be so bad?”

“Yes. You’re a client,” she reminded sternly.

“But people here don’t know that,” he insisted, looking her square in the eye.

“But I do,” Lexie shot back. “And I don’t date clients, Lewis.”

Not anymore. Not since she had found out mixing business and pleasure with a sexy available man was the worst mistake a single woman could make.

Lewis paused to come up with a new strategy. “Then we’ll just have to tell people we’re spending time together because we’re friends.”

Dear Reader,

Figuring out what to wear is something that has stumped us all from time to time. The “look” you eventually end up with usually depends on how and where you spend most of your time. For instance, my office is in my home and I place a premium on comfort, so you’re more likely to find me in jeans, sneakers and a cotton shirt than a dress and heels. Fortunately, no one really cares how a writer is garbed when he or she is writing—people just want to read a good story. Celebrities and CEOs, on the other hand, are held to a different standard.

Globe-trotting former Laramie, Texas, resident Lexie Remington knows this and has made a career of helping clients figure out what kind of image they want to present to the world. Whereas the brilliant—but hopelessly style challenged—computer genius Lewis McCabe is too much of a man’s man to employ anyone to tell him how to dress. And this puts the fun-loving millionaire in a quandary. Lewis wants Lexie’s attention. He won’t get it if he doesn’t at least pretend to respect what she does for a living. So following a small misunderstanding, he inadvertently gets himself in a Texas-sized mess. One his four brothers think is a hoot…

I hope you enjoy BLAME IT ON TEXAS as much as I loved writing it. For more information on this and other books, please visit my Web site at www.cathygillenthacker.com.

Happy reading!

Cathy Gillen Thacker

Blame It on Texas

Cathy Gillen Thacker

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cathy Gillen Thacker married her high school sweetheart and hasn’t had a dull moment since. Why? you ask. Well, there were three kids, various pets, any number of automobiles, several moves across the country, his and her careers and sundry other experiences (some of which were exciting and some of which weren’t). But mostly, there was love and friendship and laughter, and lots of experiences she wouldn’t trade for the world.

This book is for Mary Thacker, for her love and support over the years.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

A full moon shone and stars twinkled in the velvety sky overhead. It was shaping up to be a beautiful October evening, Lewis McCabe thought, as he strode briskly up the steps of the Remington ranch house. Before he could press the doorbell, the front door opened. Jenna Lockhart Remington stepped across the threshold, the look on her face anything but welcoming. “I know why you’re here,” the elegant older woman said firmly.

“You do?” Lewis McCabe murmured. Darn it, had his four brothers phoned ahead to make his plan public before he put it into action? If so, there was going to be heck to pay, he decided grimly, and then some.

“And although—” Mrs. Remington paused to shrewdly peruse Lewis from head to toe, none of her customary hospitality evident “—I can see your need is dire—”

How could she have known how long it had been since he’d had a date? Lewis thought in irritation. Then again, this was Laramie, Texas, where everyone was family, and nothing stayed secret for long.

“Lexie is here on vacation.”

“Exactly,” Lewis said, glad they were no longer talking at cross purposes. “I figured since your stepdaughter’s in town again I’d use the opportunity to—”

“Take advantage of her kind and generous nature?” Mrs. Remington scolded, clearly annoyed.

Was Mrs. Remington intimating he was a pity date? That Lexie would only go out with him if she felt sorry for him? “I assure you, Mrs. Remington, I have nothing but the utmost respect for Lexie,” he said sincerely, determined to do whatever it took to get an audience with the woman he’d had his eye on for what seemed like forever. “I hold her in highest regard.”

“Which is, of course, exactly why you are here,” Mrs. Remington interrupted. “Because Lexie is so successful.”

Given the fact this conversation had started off on the wrong foot, and had been going down the wrong path ever since, Lewis wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Of course I admire what Lexie has done professionally,” he admitted. “Everyone around here does.” Thanks to her stunning fashion sense, she’d become every bit the celebrity her clients were.

Footsteps sounded in the background. Jake Remington, Lexie’s father, appeared at his wife’s side, his tall, lanky frame filling the doorway. Jake nodded at Lewis. “McCabe.”

“Mr. Remington.” Lewis stuck out his hand. After a moment, Jake shook it. Encouraged, Lewis continued, “I was just telling Mrs. Remington that I—”

“My wife is right,” Jake Remington interrupted imperiously “There is no way Jenna and I are going to let Lexie see you. Because if we do and you ask her what darn near everyone else around here wants to ask her right now—”

Lewis swore inwardly. “Other guys have been here ahead of me?” He thought he’d gotten the jump on this, since Lexie had only arrived here from London, via her father’s private jet, earlier in the day.

“Let’s just say you’re not the first to come calling,” Mrs. Remington replied. “And the answer to everyone was the same. Lexie is not receiving guests at this time.”

“Well, then when will she be?” Lewis asked, doing his best to maintain a positive outlook. Not easy, given how unfairly he was being shot down.

Jake and Jenna looked at each other. “As far as we’re concerned, never,” Jake said. “At least during this visit.”

The thought of letting Lexie leave town without seeing her—again—did not sit well with Lewis, maybe because so many chances to connect had already passed them by. Deciding he wasn’t going to let the Remingtons’s assessment of his chances with Lexie decide the matter, Lewis insisted as politely as possible, “I just need a moment of her time. I won’t stay. I promise.”

Jenna sighed, looking thoroughly conflicted. She ran a hand through her short red-gold hair before frowning at Lewis. “She’d say yes, you know. All it would take is one look at you, and she’d be agreeing to whatever you asked.”

“And that would not be good for her,” Jake Remington clapped a firm hand on Lewis’s shoulder. “You need to go, son.”

Lewis dug in his heels. He did not want to leave it like this.

“Maybe the next time she’s home,” Mrs. Remington offered gently before putting an abrupt end to the conversation. The door shut and silence fell on the wide front porch of the elegant limestone ranch house.

Lewis stood there a moment longer, aware he hadn’t felt this foolish since he was twenty-three and failed to get up the nerve to talk to Lexie when she was home from college on fall break. Eight years had passed…and apparently little had changed. Swearing silently to himself, he turned and started down the porch steps to his SUV. He was almost there when he heard what sounded like a tapping noise. He turned in the direction of the house and saw Lexie Remington framed in an upstairs window, looking as heart-stoppingly beautiful as ever. She motioned to him, and pointed urgently toward the rear of the house. Then, with one last glance over her shoulder, to see if he were following, she disappeared from view.

A mixture of anticipation and excitement rippling through him, Lewis strode around the ranch house. At the rear of the house, Lexie was standing in an open second-floor window in what appeared to be an old-fashioned white lawn nightgown, with a high neck and long, billowing sleeves. Her strawberry-blond hair flowing in untamed waves around her slender shoulders, she looked like a princess in a turret. All she was missing was the tiara and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d had one of those around some place. Arms on the sill, she leaned down toward him and invited in a soft, mischievous voice that further fueled his dreams, “Come on up.”

Lewis didn’t know whether to laugh or try and wake himself up from what was obviously the wildest fantasy he’d ever had. “How?” he whispered back, aware it was only seven-thirty and Lexie was already dressed for bed. Another anomaly in this increasingly bizarre situation. The Lexie he recalled had always been as much of a night person as he was. No way she would have gone straight from dinner into bed, even if she had just crossed the Atlantic Ocean. No way she would have worn such a ridiculously old-fashioned nightgown.

“Climb up the trellis,” she urged merrily, her alluring lips curving into a sexy smile.

Blood rushed through Lewis’s veins. Had her breasts always been that curvaceous and full, her features so delicate and sensual? “You’re kidding.” He couldn’t take his eyes from her face.

Her lovely features took on an air of challenge. To his disappointment, she tossed her head and shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her in the least. “Do you want to meet me with me or not?”

Lewis didn’t have to be asked twice.

LEXIE STOOD GUARD in her dimly lit bedroom while Lewis McCabe climbed up the trellis with a great deal more ease than she expected. By the time he hauled himself over her windowsill and into the bedroom she had inhabited during her youth, her heart was pounding. Why exactly, she couldn’t say. It wasn’t as if the two of them had ever meant anything to one another. They’d barely spoken to each other, although, it had been hard not to be aware of Lewis McCabe. He was just so darn smart. And, when he let his guard down, witty. She had lived for his subtle wisecracks and droll sense of humor.

Not that he had ever cared. Or noticed.

But he was here now. To see her. And how time had changed them both. He was taller than she recalled. Much taller. At least six-three. And buff. His shoulders were broad, his arms, chest, abdomen and legs—solid muscle. His face had filled out, too, giving him a ruggedly masculine appeal, a big departure from the hopelessly nerdy boy she recalled from her youth.

These days, his well-defined lips had a confident slant, and his angular jaw emanated power and determination. And yet, despite the fact that Lewis McCabe was now very much a man’s man, some things remained almost the same. His lively blue-gray eyes were still framed by the wire-rimmed glasses she had always found oh-so-sexy. His spiky light brown hair had hints of chestnut and gold woven throughout, although Lewis still hadn’t found a good barber. His clothes were…well…horrendous, but that was why he was trying so hard to see her. Because he knew he needed her help retooling his image. And he might not know it, yet, but she needed his help, too.

Lexie decided to cut straight to the chase. “I heard you talking to my parents and I know what you wanted to ask me. The answer is yes.”

Lewis couldn’t seem to stop looking at her long, white nightgown. Good thing he didn’t know how little she had under the deftly camouflaging fabric…. Now if only she could get her body to stop reacting to his presence.

“You’re serious,” Lewis said incredulously.

He didn’t have to look so surprised, Lexie thought irritably, as she brushed her hair away from her face. “I know you need my expertise in this area, and I am perfectly willing to help you come up with a personal style that better suits your position as CEO and president of McCabe Computer Games. You’re not just a computer genius, Lewis, you’re a successful executive now. You’ve got to dress the part.”

To Lexie’s surprise, Lewis wasn’t looking as pleased by her offer as she had expected. Perhaps because he had taken offense? Call it a hazard of her profession, but she did tend to be a tad blunt when summing up a client’s style woes. She flushed self-consciously and forced a smile. “I’ll waive my regular fee.”

Again, Lewis McCabe didn’t appear to know whether to be pleased by her generous offer, or insulted.

“Instead,” she forced herself to continue matter-of-factly, “I want something much more valuable from you.”

Having apparently recovered from the sight of her in the impossibly chaste nightgown, he strolled past her and settled confidently on the edge of her four-poster bed. He flashed her with a challenging half smile. “Okay, I’m all ears,” he prodded dryly.

Lexie swallowed, trying hard not to notice how at home he looked in her bedroom. “I heard you and your brother Brad have a ranch now—with horses.”

Lewis nodded, interest clearly piqued. “The Lazy M.”

Lexie raked her teeth across her lower lip. Her heart pounded at the implacable note in his low voice. “I want to go riding tonight.” The brisk October weather was perfect for an evening ride.

Lewis shrugged, unconcerned. “Put your jeans and boots on. I’ll take you.”

She edged close enough to inhale the brisk masculine scent of his cologne. “It’s not that simple,” she said, keeping her voice low enough so they wouldn’t be overheard.

Some emotion Lexie couldn’t quite identify flickered in Lewis’s eyes. “Of course it isn’t,” he replied knowingly.

Lexie felt the heat in her chest spread upward to her face. She told herself it was tension—and not his proximity—causing her heart to pound. “I can’t just walk out of here.”

Lewis cocked his head. “I don’t see why not,” he told her frankly. “You are a grown woman.”

Yes. She was. Unfortunately, not everyone around her accepted that. “My parents want me home tonight.” And every other day and night for the next two weeks.

“I gathered that.” Lewis rubbed the flat of his palm across the underside of his closely shaven jaw. Still keeping his eyes focused firmly on hers, he added playfully, “The question is why are they locking you in your little tower up here?”

“I’m not locked in! Well, not literally anyway,” Lexie amended hurriedly, as his gaze trailed lazily over her hair, face and lips before returning to her eyes. “And the reason Jenna and my father are working so hard to keep me home and undisturbed is that they have gotten it into their heads that I need to catch up on my rest.”

Lewis couldn’t mask the concern in his eyes. “You want my opinion?” he asked. “You are looking a little…peaked.”

Lexie knew her skin didn’t have the sun-kissed glow of his. She rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. I’ve been in London, where it’s done nothing lately but rain.”

He narrowed his assessing gaze even more. “A few cloudy days don’t cause skin to be that pale.”

How was it that Lewis saw what those who were supposed to be close to her had failed to notice? “Then it’s the nightgown,” Lexie argued back, refusing to admit to the real reason behind her pale skin and tense, agitated state. “The white color washes out my skin.”

He grinned, all mischief again. “I was wondering about that,” he teased, getting slowly and deliberately to his feet. “You used to be such a tomboy.” He sauntered closer, inundating her with his size.

Her pulse racing, Lexie leaned her head back, to better see into his face. “Still am, at heart,” she drawled right back, knowing that much was only too true. As a child, she’d played outdoors constantly and rarely wore a dress—and then only under protest.

Lewis fingered the stand-up lace collar. “Then why the frilly getup?” he teased.

She drew a breath and stepped back before his hand brushed the delicate skin of her throat, or the equally sensitive underside of her chin. “All the clothes I brought with me from England are in the wash. So I had to pick something that was still in my closet here to wear when I got out of the shower.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “You really wore something like this?” he asked, doing a double take.

Lexie huffed in irritation. “I had a romantic phase, years ago.” It had been a time when she had wanted to be swept off her feet. Fortunately, she was no longer the foolish young girl she had been when she had left Laramie on the arm of Constantine Romeo. “Don’t worry. It passed. Never to return.”

Lewis stepped back to regard her. “That’s too bad. I kind of like it. It’s…sexy…in an innocent sort of way.”

Lexie’s body tingled. She wished she’d at least had the foresight to put on a bra or a bathrobe before inviting him up to her lair. “Listen, if we’re going to work together, you can’t say things like that,” she chided, backing away from him again.

He matched her, step for step, until the backs of her knees hit the side of her bed. Clearly trying to push her buttons, he asked, “What if we’re just fooling around together? Can I say it then?”

To her dismay, Lexie could imagine playing around with Lewis McCabe way too easily. Resolved to keep her guard up, Lexie feigned immunity to his teasing. “I’m serious, Lewis.”

“So am I.” Desire, pure and simple, was in his eyes. “If we’re going to be spending time together, for whatever reason, why can’t I tell you what’s on my mind?”

Determined not to put herself in an emotionally vulnerable position with him, she said, “Because it makes us aware of each other in a way we shouldn’t be…and that does not make for a good work environment.”

He flashed her a contemplative grin. “Voice of experience talking?”

Hanging on to her composure by a thread, she revealed, “I got romantically involved with a man who also ended up being my client.”

Lewis grimaced. “Constantine Romeo.”

Years later, people were still talking about the way she had simply picked up and run off with the handsome actor, much to the chagrin of her parents and stepmother. Lexie pinned Lewis with a glare. “That’s not a mistake I intend to repeat.”

“Hmm. Well, if you’re worried about that,” he said, his low, sexy voice doing strange things to her insides, “then maybe you and I shouldn’t work together.”

“We have to!” Lexie countered emotionally, before she could stop herself.

He paused and eyed her thoughtfully. “Why?”

Aware she was revealing far too much of herself to a man she barely knew, Lexie gave him a flippant look. “Besides the fact that you desperately need my help?”

“Yes.”

“Because unless I do a favor for you, then I can’t ask you to do a favor for me,” she explained before turning away.

Lewis clamped a hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. “Why not?”

His strong, capable fingers radiated warmth. “Because then we won’t be even.”

He angled his head. “Why does it have to be even?”

Frustrated, Lexie threw up her hands. “Because that’s the way the world works.”

“Maybe that’s the way Hollywood works,” he agreed, as he caught both of her hands in both of his. “It isn’t the way Laramie, Texas, works. Here, you can do a favor for someone without worrying about whether or not you’re going to get paid back. And vice versa. People just naturally help each other out. They don’t keep score.”

“Well, I’m not comfortable with that,” she retorted, not about to get drawn into any sort of flirtation with him, no matter how desirable she found him. “If I ask something of someone, I give something in return. That way, I don’t have to worry about owing anyone anything.”

Lewis let her go. “I see.”

“You disapprove.” The question was, why did it matter to her what he thought?

His lips took on a reassuring curve. “I think you need to relax, take it down a notch.”

So did she. “Which is why I asked you to climb up here, Lewis,” Lexie explained with a grimace. “I’ve only been here a few hours and I’m already going stir-crazy in this house. I have to get out. I’ve got to have some fresh air and moonlight…and the feel of freedom I get when I ride, or I’m never going to be able to sleep.”

Lewis gave her a seductive smile that was enough to make her stomach drop. “Makes sense.”

Finally, they were on the same page!

Lexie surveyed his vintage ’80s clothing that were not exactly ranch ready. She bit her lower lip. “You do ride, don’t you?”

Lewis nodded.

“Well enough to keep up with me?” she asked.

“Only one way to find that out,” he drawled.

Her curiosity about him intensified. The Lewis she recalled had been awkward with the ladies. The Lewis in front of her seemed to know his way around. “Good. So meet me at midnight,” she urged hurriedly, trying not to think what his newfound confidence was doing to her. “I’ll be waiting at the end of the drive, down by the road.”

Lewis resisted her efforts to push him back toward the open window. Instead, he linked fingers with her. “Why can’t we just tell your parents what you want to do and go now—via the front door?”

She unlinked their palms, not sure how much she could trust him to do what she wanted if he knew everything there was to know about her current situation. “Uh…long story.”

His expression guarded, he studied her. “I have all the time in the world.”

She scoffed, aware far too much time had already passed. “That’s what you think.”

Lewis quirked an eyebrow.

“Do you really want to face my father when he realizes you’re still here?”

Recognition dawned. “I gather he wouldn’t appreciate me spending time in your bedroom,” Lewis remarked, a look of distinctly male satisfaction on his face.

Refusing to consider what it would be like if Lewis really were there for amorous reasons, Lexie stepped away from him. “You gather right.”

He lifted both hands in surrender. “Say no more. I’m out of here.”

Relief flowed through her. Much more of this two-stepping around her bedroom and she’d be thinking about kissing him. She let out a slow breath. “I’ll see you later.”

“Lexie.” Lewis paused, one leg thrown over the windowsill. He looked deep into her eyes. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

Lexie shrugged, unable to admit just how wrong her life had gone as of late. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Now scoot before someone catches you with me and we really have a lot of explaining to do.”

“WELL, LOOK WHO DECIDED to join us after all,” Riley McCabe teased, twenty minutes later.

All eyes were on Lewis as he strolled into the kitchen of the “fixer-upper” his youngest brother, Kevin, had just purchased.

Brad continued removing the sink and its fittings after looking at Lewis with obvious sympathy. “Struck out, huh?”

Unfortunately, they all knew where he had been and why. Lewis’d had to tell them why he was opting out of the kitchen demolition party at the last minute, after promising to help the financially tapped-out Kevin and the rest of his brothers with the task.

Lewis picked up a hammer. “What makes you think I didn’t get a date?”

“Did you?” Kevin asked, unable to stop being a detective even when he wasn’t working for the Laramie County sheriff’s department.