From Texas, With Love

Chapter Two

“Second thoughts?” Will asked, emerging from the cockpit several hours later.

Samantha did not know how the sexy pilot had read her mind—she’d spent years perfecting her poker face. To the point that most people hadn’t a clue what she was thinking or feeling. Will McCabe not only spotted her vulnerabilities, he seemed determined to get around them. She unclasped her seat belt and stood. “About succumbing to your persuasive ways?”

He opened the hatch that also served as the staircase, then watched as she squared her shoulders and slung her purse over her shoulder.

“It’s not going to be that bad,” he told her with a wry smile.

Unsure whether it was resentment or nerves twisting her stomach into knots, Samantha countered, “You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do.” He carried her small suitcase down the steps, then waited for her at the bottom.

Together, they walked across the tarmac toward the hangar.

He reached over and gave her elbow a companionable squeeze. “’Cause I know Howard.”

Another reason why not to develop any kind of friendship or camaraderie with this man, she thought, since his primary allegiance was clearly to her estranged older brother. Not to her, no matter how chivalrous he was acting. Trying not to think about the way her skin was tingling from just that brief, casual contact, Samantha drew a stabilizing breath. “Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, spotting the silhouette of a man coming out of the brightly lit building in front of them.

Samantha hadn’t seen Howard in close to ten years, but she would have known her brother anywhere. He had the same tall, lithe build, dark hair and eyes that she did.

Howard closed the distance between them quickly. He started to hug her, but read her reserve and changed his mind. He moved back awkwardly, then looked her in the eye with a sincerity and warmth she found disquieting. “I’m glad you could come,” he told her, as Will looked on, clearly uncomfortable being put in the middle of this family drama.

Feeling unaccountably glad that Will was with her, so she didn’t have to face this alone, Samantha turned her attention back to Howard. She studied the gray at his temples. That and the crow’s-feet around his eyes were the only signs that her brother had just turned forty. She forced herself not to see the similarities to both their parents. Or the regret on his face. He’d hurt her badly. She wasn’t going to let him do it again. “What’s this about?” she asked wearily.

Howard’s mouth took on a determined slant. “I think it’s time we ended this cold war between us.”

That, they could have said on the phone. Had she picked up, which she wouldn’t have.

Ignoring the wordless entreaty from Will to cooperate, Samantha shrugged. “Well, I don’t.”

Will set her suitcase down beside her. “If you need me, I’ll be in the office,” he said.

Samantha latched on to his arm before he could depart, and reeled him back to her side. “I need you now.”

Will lifted a brow at her and gave Howard a glance. Her brother shrugged. “I don’t mind if you hear everything we say, as long as I get to say it.”

She added, “And I don’t want to be alone with him.”

Will gave Howard a look that let his friend know he was doing this against his better judgment, and Samantha one that told her she was being childish. She didn’t care. Hardening her heart against further devastation was the only way she had survived the years of abandonment and crushing disappointment.

Annoyed that Will wasn’t giving her the emotional backup she needed, Samantha removed her fingers from his taut biceps. She turned back to Howard, enunciating firmly, “The only reason I came was to give you the closure you seem to need, so you’ll leave me alone.” Forever.

Howard held his arms wide. “I don’t want closure. I want a new beginning.”

Samantha shook her head, her customary stubbornness rising up to give her strength. She pushed the words between clenched teeth. “Not going to happen, bro.”

“At least meet my fiancée,” Howard insisted, with a combination of firmness and hope.

Fiancée? The news that her brother was engaged hit Samantha like a sucker punch to the gut. Though why it should… She stared at him in shock, even as unexpected moisture gathered behind her eyes. “You—the guy who has run from every familial obligation for years—is getting married?” She couldn’t believe he was up for such a heavy-duty, lifelong commitment. Didn’t want to believe it.

Howard nodded, suddenly looking as emotional as she felt. “To Molly Weatherby,” he admitted in a low, choked voice. Blinking rapidly, he cleared his throat. “She’s a wonderful woman. I think you’ll like her, and she’s very anxious to meet you.”

Aware that Will was gauging her reaction every bit as carefully as her brother was, Samantha regained her composure with effort. “Clearly, Molly doesn’t understand our dynamic,” she said sweetly.

Will lifted his brow again. Samantha ignored the powerful censure radiating from him.

As did Howard. “Have dinner with us tomorrow,” he pressed.

And open the door to further demands she had no desire to meet? Samantha thought bitterly. She wasn’t that much of a fool. It had been a mistake coming here in the first place. She shook her head and stepped back, away from both men. “I’m leaving in the morning, come hell or high water.”

“Then we’ll make it breakfast,” Howard insisted, with the same polite do-or-die attitude that had made him such a success as an investment banker. “Please, Samantha,” he continued in a quiet tone that tugged on her heartstrings. “Do this for me.”

Samantha supposed this could provide much needed closure for both of them. “Fine. Whatever.” Her voice was as cool as she could make it. “Just so you know this is the last time you and I are going to be seeing each other.” She regarded her brother steadily. “There’ll be no more messages on my machine, no more letters, no more hunky pilots kicking down my front door to save me.”

Now Howard looked at Will with silent reproach.

He held up a hand like a traffic cop. “Long story,” he muttered.

To her surprise, Howard simply nodded.

Pulse pounding, Samantha looked around, desperate for escape. “Is there a ladies’ room handy?”

Will pointed toward a corner of the brightly lit hangar. “To the left there’s a unisex.”

“Thanks.” Head down against the warm Texas wind, Samantha hurried off.

She barely made it through the door of the concrete-floored building before bursting into tears she didn’t want and couldn’t explain.

“I’M STILL AMAZED YOU GOT her here,” Howard told Will as the two of them walked across the tarmac, following the path Samantha had taken.

So was he, if truth be told. Will thought about the sentimental tears Samantha had blinked back. He had learned a long time ago to pay more attention to what people did than what they said. It was actions, not speeches, that told the tale. He looked at the bathroom door, which was still closed, and led the way to his glass-walled office. “I don’t think there is any doubt that Samantha wants to reconcile with you,” he told his old friend kindly.

The confidence Howard had displayed in the presence of his sister faded. In its place were soul-deep regret and frustration. “Be honest, man. She hates my guts.”

“Yeah.” Will sank down in the battered chair behind his equally beat-up metal desk. “But she loves you, too, otherwise she wouldn’t have come this far.” She would have grabbed her mouse and told Will to take a flying leap back to Texas, instead of allowing him to coax her into coming.

Too wound up to sit, Howard paced across the small, square space. He paused in front of the window overlooking the runway. “My sister’s right about one thing.” He shoved his hands through his hair, then clasped the back of his neck. “I let her down.”

A veteran of all sorts of domestic difficulties, Will propped his boots on the edge of his desk. “It happens, even in the best families. It doesn’t mean you can’t make it up to her.”

Howard turned away from the view of the dark Texas sky, his expression bleak. “In the course of one reluctantly-consented-to breakfast?” he asked skeptically.

Will gestured for him to take a seat in one of the military-surplus chairs. “She’ll end up staying however long it takes.”

Howard sank down with a sigh. “She’ll never agree to that.”

Oh ye of little faith. “I’ll soften her up and keep her entertained while she’s in Laramie,” Will promised.

His friend perked up a bit. “You’d do that for me?”

“Even more.” Will grinned. “I owe you for helping me get my business off the ground.”

Feminine footsteps sounded on the concrete floor. Seconds later, Samantha strode in. She looked composed again, but her eyes were rimmed with red, as if she’d been crying. Will felt for her. He knew this had to be hard. He also knew it had to be done.

“It’s late,” she said, before either man could speak. “And I’m exhausted. If one of you could point me toward the closest hotel…”

Will and Howard exchanged uneasy looks.

“What?” she demanded.

Howard risked her wrath and informed her reluctantly, “The state agricultural extension service is holding their spring workshops here in Laramie for the next two weeks. People come from all over West Texas to attend them. All the hotel rooms for miles around are booked. But not to worry,” he assured her. “I’ve got the guest room made up.”

She should have been trapped, albeit nicely, into spending more time with the only family she had. Will had to hand it to Samantha; she didn’t miss a beat. “Thanks,” she said with a breezy smile, “but I’m staying the night with Will.”

He looked at her, making no effort to hide his surprise.

Howard frowned. “You can’t do that,” he argued.

She tilted her head to one side. “Want to bet?”

Doing his best to help his friend, Will murmured, “Your brother is right, Samantha. His place is so much nicer. You’ll be a lot more comfortable there.”

She dug in her heels. “I don’t require fancy digs. Your place is fine.”

Will decided to let her have her way—temporarily. It wouldn’t take her long to cry uncle, once she realized what she had done. “My place it is, then.”

The glint in Howard’s eyes said he had an idea what Will was up to.

Playing along, Howard turned back to his sister with a poker face. “I’ll see you in the morning at my house then,” he stated, cordial as ever.

Distracted, Samantha nodded her assent.

Once again, Howard started to hug his little sister, then decided against it and just walked out.

Will and Samantha were left facing each other.

“Let’s go, then,” she said. She slung the small carry-on bag over her arm. “Like I said, I’m exhausted.”

Curious as to what her reaction was going to be, Will gestured toward the metal stairs just outside his office door. “After you.”

Samantha blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

He pointed to the closed door above them. “That’s where I live.”

SAMANTHA WOULD HAVE thought Will McCabe was joking, had it not been for the way too innocent, I’m-just-giving-you-what-you-asked-for expression on his face.

I can handle this. It’s just for one night. Then I’ll have met any last-ditch familial obligation. I can go back to New York City and get on with my life. Determined not to let Will McCabe’s shenanigans get to her, Samantha turned and headed up the stairs. He followed lazily behind, and his shoulder brushed hers when he unlocked the door and swung it open.

Samantha stared at the sparse decor.

“Not too late to change your mind,” Will told her. “I bet Howard is only a mile or so down the road by now. You can call him on his cell, ask him to double back and get you.”

Which was clearly what the two men had planned all along, Samantha thought. No wonder they had sent each other those indecipherable looks! They had to have known how shocked and dismayed she would be.

“This is fine,” she fibbed. So what if it was one large room with a cement floor and walls? Technically, it had everything she needed. A hot plate, small fridge, microwave. Television with satellite receiver. Stereo. Adjoining bath, with shower stall. She pivoted back to Will and tossed him a devil-may-care smile. “Just one question. Where are you going to sleep?”

Will locked eyes with her. He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on either side of his fly. “Here.”

Right.

“I hate to break it to you,” Samantha replied dryly, “but that’s a metal army cot.”

He turned to look, as if he had never seen it before. “Uh-huh.”

Aware that he was being deliberately dense just to get under her skin, she elaborated, “For one.”

A sexy grin spread across his face. “Then I guess we’ll be real cozy, huh?”

Samantha gave him a look that let him know they would not be hooking up, tonight or at any other time. “Surely you can sleep on the plane,” she said.

His expression gave away nothing. “Surely you can sleep at your brother’s place.”

Beginning to lose patience despite herself, Samantha jabbed a thumb at her chest. “Then I’ll sleep on the jet.”

He vetoed her idea. “It’s either here—in that bed—with me,” he told her flatly, “or at Howard’s.”

It seemed Samantha had been searching her whole life for a man every bit as stubborn and strong-willed as she was. Finally, she’d found one. The only trouble was they had very different ideas about what should happen next.

She edged closer. “Even a car or pickup would do.” She’d learned to get comfortable anywhere and appreciate the roof over her head.

“You’re not sleeping in a vehicle, either.”

Samantha’s heartbeat quickened. “Says who?”

“Me,” he replied with exaggerated seriousness.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Samantha declared, ignoring the tingling sensation that started up inside her whenever he was near.

“I don’t have to provide you with the keys to my pickup truck, either.” He regarded her smugly. “So it looks like you’re back to plan A. Bunking with your brother.”

Samantha flushed. “Absolutely not!”

He looked at his watch. “Five seconds to change your mind.”

She glowered at him.

With a shrug, Will said, “All right, then.” He strolled over to the row of metal clothes lockers against the wall. Opening one, he pulled out boxers and a T-shirt fresh from the laundry. “I’m going to bed.”

Samantha’s jaw dropped. She knew Will was a no-rules kind of guy, but this was beyond ridiculous! “You can’t be serious.”

“Afraid I am.” He gave her a thorough once-over that had her insides fluttering.

Refusing to let him get to her, she merely lifted a brow in return.

The tension between them ratcheted up another notch.

She knew he was thinking about the sexual implications of the hours ahead, as was she.

“You’re not getting lucky.”

“I figured,” he replied.

“So maybe you’d better bunk elsewhere.”

“Don’t think so. I like my quarters and my bed just fine.”

Another stalemate.

She was definitely losing this battle.

Will made a great show of yawning. “If you want to brush your teeth or change into something more comfortable, better do it. Then it’s going to be lights out.”

Samantha knew he still expected her to give in and run to her brother. No way that was happening. He thought he could be difficult? So could she.

“First dibs on the bathroom,” she countered.

With amusement tugging at his lips, he lounged against the wall. “Have at it.”

All too aware of his gaze tracking her every step, Samantha rolled her carry-on suitcase into the bathroom. Ignoring the slight trembling of her fingers, she locked the door behind her and changed into the lavender sleep shirt she had been wearing when Will had kicked in her door. Then she washed her face and brushed her teeth in record time.

Truth to tell, she was exhausted. She didn’t care where she slept as long as she had a place to rest her head. And she was still hoping Will McCabe’s gentlemanly instincts would kick in—surely the aggravating man had some!—and he would go elsewhere to sleep.

Finished, she crammed everything back in her suitcase, sauntered out and looked at Will—then felt her mouth go dry.

He had stripped down to his jeans. Raw power radiated from his tall, extraordinarily fit frame.

So much for the hope he’d make a chivalrous exit, Samantha thought.

He really intended to spend the night with her on that tiny bed! Unless…he was calling her bluff?

Pretending she wasn’t turned on at the sight of all that hard muscle and abundant masculinity, Samantha inclined her head in the direction of the bath. “It’s all yours.”

He ambled past, T-shirt and shorts still clutched in one hand. The door shut and the shower went on.

Not sure whether to be grateful for the respite or worried about what would happen if he really decided to sleep in the single bed next to her, Samantha sighed and climbed beneath the covers—a starched white sheet and green wool blanket. She put her head down, just for a second, and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew the bathroom door opened and a wedge of light spilled into the room. Will strode out, clad in his boxers and T-shirt, then switched off the light. She caught a whiff of man and soap as he slid in beside her, rolled onto his back and locked his hands behind his head. Wedged between the wall and his body, Samantha had nowhere to go. Worse, she was lying on her side, facing him. A position that was far too…intimate.

She turned, bumping her knee against his rock-hard thigh and her elbow against his chest. Her sleep shirt rode up. She tugged it down, then tried easing onto her back so she, too, would be staring up at the ceiling. His shoulders were so wide the two of them didn’t quite fit. She took a deep breath. “Could you turn on your side?”

“Sure.” He rolled to face her.

Heavens, he was a handful. “I meant the other way.”

His broad chest rumbled with suppressed laughter. “I know what you meant.”

Samantha set her jaw. And tried not to think about kissing him. Passionately, and without restraint. “You’re not going to cooperate with me, are you?” she asked irritably.

He gave her an innocent look. “This is me, cooperating.”

And she thought she’d known trouble before. “Forget it.” Samantha bumped bodies with him again, shifting around until she was on her side, facing the wall. They had maybe an inch between them. She could still fell the heat emanating from his skin. Hear his deep, even breathing.

Knowing this had been a gigantic mistake on her part, but not about to admit it, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. Unsuccessfully. Yet before long she could tell, from the sound of Will’s breathing, that he was asleep.

She was safe. There’d be no more verbal sparring, no more quietly searching looks, no more attempts to figure her out, for at least a few hours. Just blissful rest with a strong, capable man lying beside her.

She ought to feel relieved at the respite from all the emotional stuff.

So why didn’t she?

WILL AWOKE AT SHORTLY after six in the morning. Remaining perfectly still, he looked at the woman beside him. She was sleeping soundly, her body not touching his. It hadn’t been that way all night, he recalled, with a strange mix of feelings. At around 2:00 a.m. he had wakened to the sound of a soft gasp and a slight vibration of the bed. It had taken him a minute to realize the shaking was in her chest. Samantha hadn’t struck him as a woman who did a lot of crying—if any—so the sight of the hand pressed to her mouth and the tears running down her face, as she struggled to suppress any signs of weakness, even in sleep, had made his own gut tighten.

Howard had told Will that his kid sister had had one hell of a childhood after their parents died, and it was all Howard’s fault.

Will knew what it was like to lose a parent. Samantha had lost both, plus her only brother, all at once. She’d survived by becoming tough. But that toughness was cracking under the stress of all that had happened to her recently….

Samantha stirred and turned, elbowing him sharply in the chest. Will grunted, and the noise woke her. She looked startled, as if she didn’t know where she was or how the hell he happened to be there. Sure he couldn’t handle an assault on his ears before he’d had coffee, he cupped a hand lightly over her mouth, in case she screamed. “It’s okay.”

A pleat formed between her brows as reality slowed dawned. “Says you. I’m stiff all over.” She moaned. “I need to get up.”

So did he. All this shifting around had made him think of things he didn’t need to be thinking about. He threw back the covers, eased off the mattress, stood and offered her a hand up.

Too late, he noticed that her sleep shirt had twisted around her waist, revealing black French-cut panties and a perfect body. Flushing, she scrambled to cover herself, while he got a clean pair of jeans from the row of metal lockers that served as his closet, and pretended he hadn’t seen. “I’ve got to go talk to my mechanic.” Will grabbed a shirt and boots and headed out the door.